My 2025 in Review (Best Science Fiction Novels and Short Fiction, Reading Initiatives, and Bonus Categories)

  • Graphic created by my father

Here’s to happy reading in 2026! I hope you had a successful reading year. Whether you are a lurker, occasional visitor, a regular commenter, a follower on Bluesky or Mastodon, thank you for your continued support. As I say year after year, It’s hard to express how important (and encouraging) the discussions that occur in the comments, social media, and via email are to me. I’m so thankful for the lovely and supportive community of readers, writers, and discussion partners that stop by.

What were your favorite vintage SF reads–published pre-1985–of 2025? Let me know in the comments.

Throughout the later part of the year I’ve dropped hints about a research project. Perceptive readers might have parsed together the contours of the research: late 19th/early 20th century, utopian, African American, the American South, radical politics… It’s taking longer than expected. I’ve read a good ten monographs, five dissertations, countless articles. I’ve written twenty pages. I hoped to have it posted by early in this year. Alas. It’s coming together–slowly. Stay tuned.

Without further ado, here are my favorite novels (I only read a few) and short stories (I read a ton of those) I read in 2025 with bonus categories. I made sure to link my longer reviews where applicable if you want a deeper dive.

Check out my 202420232022, and 2021 rundowns if you haven’t already. I have archived all my annual rundowns on my article index page if you wanted to peruse earlier years.

My Top 5 Science Fiction Novels of 2025

  • Alan Gutierrez’s cover for the 1985 edition

1. Octavia E. Butler’s Clay’s Ark (1984), 4.5/5 (Very Good). Full review.

Octavia E. Butler’s Clay’s Ark is the final published volume of her Patternist sequence (1976-1984). It is the third novel according to the internal chronology of the series. Clay’s Ark is, without doubt, the most horrifyingly bleak science fiction novel I have ever read. It’s stark. It’s sinister. It’s at turns deeply affective before descending into extreme violence and displaced morality. The moral conundrum that underpins the central problem, the spread of an extraterrestrial disease, unfurls with an unnerving alien logic. Butler’s characters are trapped by the demands of the alien microbes, scarred by the pervasive sense that their humanity is slipping away, and consumed by the fear of starting an epidemic. A true confrontation of the moment cannot lead to anything other than suicide or the first steps towards an apocalyptic transformation.

  • Mark Weber’s cover for the 1st edition

2. Kim Stanley Robinson’s Icehenge (1984), 4.5/5 (Very Good). Full review.

Kim Stanley Robinson’s Icehenge, a fix-up from two previously published stories “To Leave a Mark” (1982) and “On the North Pole of Pluto” (1980), tells three interconnected tales that all connect to a mysterious monolith left on Pluto (the titular Icehenge). By design Icehenge instead follows the action after the action: men and women attempting to figure out their own place in a world characterizes by lifespans that stretch hundreds and hundreds of years. And its this brilliant interconnection between self-conception and the operations of history that Robinson succeeds and casts his spell. The story is well-told, polished, and filled with fascinating details (technological and sociological).

  • Peter Jones’ cover for the 1978 UK edition

3. Joe Haldeman’s All My Sins Remembered (1977), 4/5 (Good). Full review.

The vast Confederación is comprised of radically distinct worlds ruled by the entire spectrum of political systems with both alien and non-alien inhabitants. There are few rules: don’t take advantage of indigenous populations and don’t wage wars on neighboring planets. At 22, the naive Otto McGavin, an Anglo-Buddhist, joins the Confederación as an agent to protect the rights of humans and non-humans. But there’s a twist. Under deep hypnosis a construct of Otto McGavin will be created for each mission. He’ll take on the identity–under a sheath of plasticine flesh–of whatever person he needs to be depending on the task.  The story follows Otto on three missions over many years.  The interlocking segments convey the deep trauma Otto must confront before he’s immersed in another persona and sent on another mission. His idealism clashes with the violence he must perpetuate. His sense of self conflicts with the violent actions of his “constructs.” The looming sense of dread and despair must finally have its reckoning.

  • Uncredited cover for the 1983 edition

4. Zoë Fairbairns’ Benefits (1979), 3.75/5 (Good). Full review.

Zoë Fairbairns charts the struggles of the British women’s liberation movement in a dystopic near future. An anti-feminist fringe political party called FAMILY comes to power, simultaneously proclaiming family values while systematically dismantling the welfare state. Benefits effectively eviscerates governmental doublespeak and champions the need to organize and educate in order to fight against patriarchal forces and messianic movements that promise to solve all our ills.

  • Colin Hay’s cover for the 1976 edition

5. Edgar Pangborn’s The Company of Glory (1975), 3.5/5 (Good). Full review.

Edgar Pangborn is an unsung SF hero in my book. At his best, he’s a deeply humanistic writer interested in moments of effective metafictional play on the nature of narrative. The Company of Glory (serialized 1974, 1975) is the third novel in the Tales of Darkening World sequence. It forms a prequel to Pangborn’s masterpiece Davy (1964). As with DavyThe Company of Glory attempts to create multiple interlocking layers of narrative, stories within the stories, quotations from various diaries, and the interjections of the overarching narrator of the entire collection of texts who remains anonymous until the final pages. Unfortunately, The Company of Glory is a deeply flawed novel. Recommended only for Pangborn’s fans. Read Davy first if you’re new to his work.

My Top 20 Science Fiction Short Stories Reads of 2025 (click titles for my full review)

1. Philip K. Dick’s “Foster, You’re Dead” (1955), 5/5 (Masterpiece): I featured on a podcast about this story. When the episode is posted, I’ll make sure to link it. Mike Foster spends his school days practicing survival skills–digging, making knives, weaving baskets–in case of a nuclear attack. The kids snicker at him as he walks past. They don’t own a fallout shelter at home. His father refuses to pay into the NATS (National Security fund). If a bomb hit, Mike wouldn’t even be granted access to the school shelter. He’s possessed by a deep, perpetual, encompassing trauma.

2. Fritz Leiber’s “Coming Attraction” (1950), 5/5 (Masterpiece): A rare reread! Leiber imagines an America transformed after a limited nuclear war with the Soviet Union. The physical landscape mirrors the psychological scars of New York’s inhabitants. Perverse new forms of TV entertainment, in particular male wrestlers pitted against masked women, transfix all audiences.

3. Jack Dann’s “A Quiet Revolution for Death” (1978), 5/5 (Masterpiece): Roger and his family head out of the city for a picnic in a vast cemetery. Roger dreams that he is an angel of God guiding mankind through the realm. Visiting the cemetery is an act of devotion. While other kids plug themselves into feelies, Bennie is a fanatic disciple of his father’s pseudo-philosophy of embracing the macabre. Sandra, Roger’s wife, plays along. The kids see through her dislike of the cemetery and the burial rituals happening around them.

4. Izumi Suzuki’s“Terminal Boredom” (1984, trans. by Daniel Joseph 2021), 4.5/5 (Very Good): A nameless young female main character recounts her interactions her one-time boyfriend. HE wants to reconnect with his mother, who abandoned his family. HE joins a staged show called The Psychoanalysis Room in an attempt to convince his mother to take “pity and come and find” him. She also has a dysfunctional family. Her mother, a TV executive, struggles/refuses to connect to her daughter. Like some manifestation of the modern hikikomori, they often refuse to communicate with others, eat as a group or eat at all for days on end, or leave their dwellings for the sun and vista of the aboveground. Both find solace and escape in the vacuities and artifice of television.

5. Philip K. Dick’s “Explorers We” (1959), 4.5/5 (Very Good): Six astronauts return to earth from a voyage to Mars. But they are not treated as heroes. Instead people flee. I found “Explorers We” a well-crafted existential terror. The story plays with narrative expectation and hints at a cosmic enormity that will, at least in this iteration, remain unknown.

6. James Tiptree, Jr.’s “Painwise” (1972), 4.5/5 (Very Good): An explorer who feels no pain is hurled mercilessly from planet to plant where is he tortured, experimented upon, and broken again, and again, and again. His sense of time dissipates. Space becomes a hellscape that he cannot escape. And each time he’s lifted back to his scout ship where a mechanical boditech stitches him back together.

7. Jack Dann’s “The Dybbuk Dolls” (1975), 4.5/5 (Very Good): Chaim Lewis works at a sex shop down below in the Undercity, one of many identical spheres, one mile in diameter, buried one thousand feet below the ground.  As Chaim finishes up his shift in the dingy shop, a group of visitors ask about his hook-ins and 21st century pornos. Eventually one of them asks him about his alien sex doll collection. And when he returns to the room with the dolls, he discovers they’ve all been unpacked and they imprint themselves on his mind! Cue a descent into the bizarre…

8.  Jack Williamson’s “Guinevere for Everybody” (1955), 4.5/5 (Very Good): An artificially created Guinevere stands “chained” in a “vending machine” tempting sleepy passengers in an airport with her plaintive calls. I did not know Williamson had this type of vision in him! The surprise of the year!

9. George H. Smith’s “The Last Days of L. A.” (1959), 4/5 (Good): A nameless character (“you”) wakes from a recurring dream: “the dream that has haunted the whole world since that day in 1945.” A dream of apocalyptic annihilation, in infinite variations. A narrative repetition takes form: Nuclear nightmare. The waking moment. The aimless quest for understanding. Communing with other lost souls. The retreat to the bottle. Fragments of the news suggest a world unraveling.

10. Theodore Sturgeon’s “The Stars Are the Styx” (1950), 4/5 (Good): The premise: Humans created Curbstone, an artificial satellite around Earth, to facilitate the ultimate scientific achievement–near instantaneous transportation across the galaxy. How? Individual spaceships, with a solitary crew person or couple, will be hurled out from Curbstone at various points across the space time continuum. The story revolves around the aging (and rotund) Senior Release Officer on Curbstone, who certifies, counsels, and guides the strange collection of humans who gather at the station willing to take such a risk.

11. Richard Matheson’s “Dance of the Dead” (1955), 4/5 (Good): In a drug and alcohol drenched near-future, a group of young adults take a break-neck road drip and stray from the path set out by parents and small town community. Manifesting the SPEED of the car, Matheson’s prose resonates with pulse and hum, snippets of song and signage, slang and youthful lust. It’s frantic. It’s zappy. It’s vibrant. Recommended for fans of the more linguistically experimental (and bleak) of 50s visions.

12. Jack Dann’s “Rags” (1973), 4/5 (Good): Joanna wanders the streets without seeing a single person. Everything she sees—from garbage cans to parked cars–seem in be various states of decay (“dented, rusted, and discolored”). She teaches herself a new way to walk to avoid the “invisible beings” that flit around her (6). She remembers a past sickness. Deaths in the family. She makes new rules of movement and perception as an act of preservation.  And suddenly she sees The Purple Cat.

13. Jack Dann’s “Fragmentary Blue” (variant title: “There are no Bannisters”) (1973), 4/5 (Good): he elderly dwell underground in large domed cities. It’s a commercial and media-inundated world — tiny machines grant “feeling” as you watch commercials. Professor Fleitman, who “could not rationalize having an orgasm over a cigarette advertisement,” presents a new idea to galvanize the elderly to Entertainment Committee. Rather than a feelie or a movie he wants to put on a circus.

14. Arkady and Boris Strugatsky’s “Wanderers and Travellers” (1963, trans. 1966), 4/5 (Good): Stanisław Ivanovich spends his days submerged in lakes and rivers tagging septopods, a new octopus-like species discovered on Earth. His daughter, Marsha, assists from above. When he emerges from a lake, Marsha is deep in conversation with Leonid Andreevich Gorbovsky, an astroarchaeologist implied to be on leave from an expedition. The two scientists–IIvanovich, with his eyes on earthly mystery, and Gorbovsky, untangling the traces of potential intelligences across the cosmos–and Marsha engage in a series of discussions about the nature of the universe.

15. John Wyndham’s “The Man From Beyond” (variant title: “The Man from Earth”) (1934), 3.5/5 (Good): Somewhere on the Venusian surface the Valley of Dur, with its amalgamation of gasses, traps unsuspecting denizens who wander into its depths. In the city of Takon, Venusians, six-limbed creatures with silvery hair, ogle the strange beasts extricated and caged and exhibited from the Valley. The child, transfixed by the man’s noises and scrawls, pushes his stylus and pad under the bars. And Morgan Gratz, stranded astronaut and self-confessed murderer, draws for the child the respective locations of their planets.

16. Katherine MacLean’s “Contagion” (1950), 3.5/5 (Good) is a contact with an alien planet tale that’s legitimately odd. A hunting party looking for specimens of alien life in order to dissect, sets off from the spaceship Explorer across an alien planet called Minos. Reasonably, the crew is obsessed with a minute medical analysis of flora and fauna. The hunting party encounters a majestically shaped human who spins a crazy tale of adaptation and disease. 

17. Cherry Wilder’s “The Ark of James Carlyle” (1974), 3.5/5 (Good): Carlyle spends his tour of duty in a hut with a wood platform on small landmass surrounded by an “oily purple sea” on an alien planet. A crisis hits — and he suddenly learns the reason for the singular trees that grow in the center of each island.

18. E. C. Tubb’s“Without Bugles” (1952), 3.5/5 (Good): A naive journalist struggles to confront her heroic idealism, regurgitated through the media, in her attempt to save the Mars colony afflicted with a futuristic case of the black lung.

19.  Frank K. Kelly’s “Famine on Mars” (1934), 3.5/5 (Good): President Herbert Hoover infamously proclaimed on the eve of the Great Depression that “given the chance to go forward with the policies of the last eight years, we shall soon with the help of God, be in sight of the day when poverty will be banished from this nation.” “Famine on Mars,” published five years into the Great Depression, evokes similar paradigmatic shifts between propagandistic proclamation and harsh reality. Kelly spins a nightmare account of a famine on Mars and a plan to save the starving legions.

20. Gerald Kersh’s “Whatever Happened to Corporal Cuckoo?” (1953), 3.5/5 (Good): Kersh imagines a literary version of himself returning to New York City from WWII interacting with a fantastical manifestation of a Wound Man on board the Cunard White Star liner Queen Mary. Corporal Cuckoo, the “Wound Man” in question, regals the narrator (Kersh) with the history of his scarred and mutilated form that mysteriously heals from every injury.

Reading Initiatives

I have continued, resurrected, and created new science fiction short story reading series over the course of the year. Most of the stories I’ve picked for the series are available in some fashion online via links to Internet Archive in each review. I’ve included installments from 2024 in each series below. Feel free to read along with me! And thanks for all the great conversation.

Galaxy Science Fiction Read-through (started 2025)

  • Galaxy Science Fiction, ed. H. L. Gold (October 1950)
  • Galaxy Science Fiction, ed. H. L. Gold (November 1950) 
  • Organized Labor and Unions in Science Fiction (started in 2024)

  • Mack Reynolds’ The Earth War (1964)
  • Zoë Fairbairns’ Benefits (1979)
  • The First Three Published Short Fictions by Female Authors (continued from 2021)

  • Cherry Wilder (1930-2002)
  • Translated Short Stories in Translation (with Rachel S. Cordasco) (started in 2024)

  • Arkady and Boris Strugatsky’s “Wanderers and Travellers” (1963, trans. 1966)
  •  Izumi Suzuki’s “Terminal Boredom” (1984, trans. by Daniel Joseph 2021)
  • The Media Landscape of the Future (started in 2022)

  • George H. Smith’s “In the Imagicon” (1966)
  • Izumi Suzuki’s “Terminal Boredom” (1984)
  • Jack Dann’s “Fragmentary Blue” (variant title: “There are no Bannisters”) (1973)
  • The Search for the Depressed Astronaut  (continued from 2020)

  • Philip K. Dick’s “Explorers We” (1959) 
  • James Tiptree, Jr.’s “Painwise” (1972)
  • E. C. Tubb’s “Without Bugles” (1952)
  • E. C. Tubb’s “Home is the Hero” (1952)
  • E. C. Tubb’s “Pistol Point” (1953)
  • John Wyndham’s “The Man From Beyond” (variant title: “The Man from Earth”) (1934)
  • Generation Ship Short Stories (continued from 2019)

  • George Hay’s Flight of the “Hesper” (1952)
  • Exploration Logs (continued from 2022)

  • Exploration Log 7: Interview with Jordan S. Carroll, author of Speculative Whiteness: Science Fiction and the Alt-Right (2024)
  • Exploration Log 8: Pat M. Kuras and Rob Schmieder’s “When It Changed: Lesbians, Gay Men, and Science Fiction Fandom” (1980)
  • Exploration Log 9: Three More Interviews with Clifford D. Simak (1904-1988)
  • Exploration Log 10: Interview with Jaroslav Olša, Jr., author of Dreaming of Autonomous Vehicles: Miloslav (Miles) J. Breuer: Czech-American Writer and the Birth of Science Fiction (2025)
  • Exploration Log 11: Interview with Chukwunonso Ezeiyoke, author of Nigerian Speculative Fiction: The Evolution (2025)
  • My Top 4 History Reads of 2025

    A large portion of my history reading this year pushed my general interest in labor history and leftist politics backwards into the 19th century. Unusual for me I know! Often I write about what I can write about not what I plan on writing about. A brief caveat worth repeating: I’m a PhD-wielding historian and have a high tolerance for academic texts. That said, I’d classify everything in my list as on the approachable side of things if you know the broad strokes of American history.

    1. Laurie F. Maffly-Kipp’s Setting Down the Sacred Past: African-American Race Histories (2010): This filled a complete hole in my knowledge. While I had encountered history-centric militant abolitionist texts written by black authors, I did not know how they fitted into the larger historiographic project of the era. As my PhD looked at universal histories in the medieval period, I’m a sucker for all kinds of histories of historiography! This is a good one.

    2. Deborah Beckel’s Radical Reform: Interracial Politics in Post-Emancipation North Carolina (2011): I read this one for my research project on a black utopian author. Beckel’s brilliant monograph looks at the race and politics in North Carolina after the end of Reconstruction–a “fusion” government of Republicans and Populists managed to take power (temporarily) from the white supremacist Democratic status quo in the 1890s. Depressing. Fascinating. I’m waiting for an alt-history that uses the 1898 election in North Carolina as a jonbar hinge — hah!

    3. Edward K. Spann’s Brotherly Tomorrows: Movements for A Cooperative Society in America (1989): While an older monograph, Spann’s work is a fantastic survey of the fascinating range of radical social idealism-inspired communities that proliferated across America. I’m obsessed by left-wing ideologies that permeate the rural world and movements for working-class utopianism. Spann will inspire you to track down newer monographs on the social movements he surveys.

    4. Jordan S. Carroll’s Speculative Whiteness: Science Fiction and the Alt-Right (2025): Rightly won the Hugo! I interviewed Carroll in January. In the book, he examines the ways the alt-right uses classic science fiction imagery and authors to mainstream fascism and advocate for the overthrow of the state. This is a short monograph designed to encourage thought. Highly recommended.

    Goals for 2026

    1. Keep reading and writing.

    2. Read more reviews by other bloggers.

    3. Cover more SF in translation.

    For cover art posts consult the INDEX

    For book reviews consult the INDEX

    For TV and film reviews consult the INDEX

    #1950s #1960s #1970s #ArkadyAndBorisStrugatsky #bookReview #bookReviews #books #CherryWilder #ECTubb #EdgarPangborn #fiction #FrankKKelly #fritzLeiber #GeorgeHSmith #GeraldKersh #IzumiSuzuki #JackDann #JackWilliamson #JamesTiptreeJr #JoeHaldeman #JohnWyndham #KatherineMacLean #KimStanleyRobinson #OctaviaEButler #philipKDick #RichardMatheson #sciFi #scienceFiction #TheodoreSturgeon #ZoeFairbairns

    Science Fiction in Dialogue with The Great Depression: Frank K. Kelly’s “Famine on Mars” (1934)

    • Graphic created by my father

    Sherwood Anderson (1876-1941) confides in the introduction to his travel memoir Puzzled America (1935) that the Great Depression was inescapable: “I was a writer of tales. It might be that I should have remained just that, but there is difficulty. There are, everywhere in America, these people now out of work. There are women and children hungry and others without enough clothes.”1 Edgar Albion Lyons, in the author’s note to his science fiction novel The Chosen Race: A Novel Based on the Depression and Machine Age (1936), echoes this sentiment: “The following chapters were written during the months of 1932 when the words ‘Depression’ and ‘Unemployment’ were on everyone’s lips.”2 Magazine science fiction, with its eye towards the marvelous technological future, likewise could not escape contemporary economic, political, and societal convulsions.3 Science, “in the form of a hypothesized device or theory,” enabled exciting adventures but also the exploration of “diverse and dire social implications.”4

    On May 9th, 1934, a massive two-day dust storm caused by severe drought and human-made factors, removed massive amounts of Great Plains topsoil. The Dust Bowl unleashed its fury. The dust clouds reached Chicago and cities in the east, blotted out the Statue of Liberty and the United States Capitol. Red snow fell in New England.5 In the September 1934 issue of Astounding, a twenty-year-old Frank K. Kelly published “Famine on Mars” (1934) about a desperate attempt to assist Martians dying of thirst and starvation after a drought. In Kelly’s vision, The Combine, Earth’s government, deliberately caused the genocide and refuses to provide assistance.6

    • M. Marchioni’s interior art for “Famine on Mars” (1934)

    Kelly renders a hyperviolent microcosm of Great Depression-drenched despair within an adventure story package.7 Its protagonists might attack each other with bizarre and futuristic physical and chemical weapons in a transparent space station but the real focus is on the fate of “million dark faces convulsed by the same agony and torn by the same unspent desire” for a drop to drink on the surface of Mars” (79).

    The Lay of the Generic Landscape

    Frank K. Kelly (1914-2010) lived a varied life. He was born in 1914 in Kansas City, MO. When he was sixteen, he published his first science fiction story–“The Light Bender” (1931)–in Wonder Stories (June 1931). 8 Of his ten published short fictions between 1931-1935, the first six appeared in Hugo Gernsback’s Wonder Stories, which at the time was overseen by managing editor David Lasser (1902-1996). Due to his efforts to “bring some realism to their fiction,.”9 Lasser is considered a  “much neglected revolutionary in science fiction” and under his tutelage the genre “started to mature.”10 Ashley describes Kelly as “the best exponent of this hard realism”11 and while his earliest stories might have lacked polish they made up for it in their bleak depiction of life in space.

    After Gernsback fired Lasser in 1933, Kelly published his final four short stories with Astounding and Amazing. While Astounding Stories “was first and always a straight adventure pulp magazine” with no intention of “educating through science and shared no ideals” with Hugo Gernsback,12 the magazine experienced a revival in 1933 and sought out stories of “total originality and scope.”13 Kelly’s bleak visions found a new home.

    After his brief and memorable stint as a SF author, Kelly attended college and later became a speech writer and journalist. He wrote speeches for Truman’s Presidential campaign of 1948 and various other Democratic senators in the 50s, held executive positions in the International Press Institute, elected vice president of the Ford Foundation’s anti-McCarthyism organization Fund for the Republic, co-founded the Center for the Study of Democratic Institutions, and served as the senior vice president of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation.14

    Let’s take a step back to the Great Depression and Kelly’s nightmare.

    • Howard V. Brown’s cover for Astounding Stories (September 1934)

    “The Combine is right” and “You are Wrong”: Institutionalized Brutality in the Age of the Machine

    During the Great Depression, the American government responded with brutality towards protest. In 1932, Henry Ford ordered police to open fire on thousands of workers at his River Rouge plant in Detroit, “killing four and seriously wounding fifty others.” In another instance from 1932, American WWI veterans marched on Washington, D.C. from Portland, Oregon to demand a bonus payment planned for 1945 as immediate relief from economic hardship and unemployment. General Douglas MacArthur ordered troops to disperse the marchers with tear gas and bayonets.15

    Simultaneously drawing on the rise of fascism in Europe, Kelly’s “Famine on Mars” creates an even more draconian governmental manifestation. Earth’s government, The Combine, acts as a genocidal and malevolent political entity that brainwashes its inhabitants in the name of “the brotherhood of man” (79). His use of “combine” evokes two interrelated images of monolithic and mechanical power: new 1920s harvesters pulled by tractors instead of mules and a combination of both political and economic powers.16 Like a new-fangled tractor-driven thresher, the Combine mechanizes society diminishing its human concerns. Kelly suggests the working class in this future receive numerical names while political elite received standard nomenclature.

    President Herbert Hoover infamously proclaimed on the eve of the Great Depression that “given the chance to go forward with the policies of the last eight years, we shall soon with the help of God, be in sight of the day when poverty will be banished from this nation.”17 “Famine on Mars,” published five years into the Great Depression, evokes similar paradigmatic shifts between propagandistic proclamation and harsh reality. The two main characters, NX-4 and NX-5, operate a “station” that seemed “to hang in space like a giant’s lantern” relaying messages between Earth, the moon, and Mars (72). The story starts with the Earthman NX-4, “alone, looking over the edge of the void into space” (72). He looks through the “panels of glassite” and he cannot help but sense how “glorious” it was to be “in the midst of this unstirred immensity” (72). The sense of humanity triumphant permeates. But then his eyes shift towards Mars and its shrinking icecaps. Reality returns: “Life was hard on Mars” (74). As the nature of the crisis on Mars emerges, humanity’s technological genius shifts to humanity’s genocidal brutality.

    In NX-4’s interactions with co-worker NX-5 are emblematic of this shift. NX-4 has the persistent sense that NX-5 is a Martian. He reassures himself that “it made little difference” to him as he “was not one to be too scrupulous of the race prejudice that was so strong on Earth” (76). He rationalizes this difference as a product of life in space, perched in the immensity of the universe, “you saw that all men were brothers, on whatever world they might be” (76). But, moments later, when NX-5 asks “You are my friend, aren’t you?” the hollowness of NX-4 self-assurance hit home: “Yes. Of course,” he says, but admits the emptiness of words to himself (76). NX-5 confesses that he is a Martian, and again NX-4 repeats that it makes not difference to him. But it does. He’s aware of his brainwashing. The Combine taught him what to think and “The Combine is right” (77). As NX-5 describes the message he received from Mars and the man-made crisis unfolding. NX-4’s brainwashing takes over. The possibility of entendre between denizens of Earth and Martians evaporates despite earlier proclamations of equality and brotherhood. NX-5 tells NX-4 that he’ll be forced to act: “I am going to ask you will sometime forgive what I’m going to do now” (78). The Martian deploys his own thought-control abilities and NX-4 becomes a tool to save Mars.

    The conflict between Earth and Mars is rooted in a Civil War twenty years earlier in which Martian colonists managed to overthrow Earth–something “The Combine has never forgotten” (78). In an act of genocidal revenge, The Combine took with them the secret of the vital water generators—only operable by their agents. These references indicate a repressive colonial relationship in which Earth maintained the political upper hand and controlled the vital infrastructure of their colony. Mars’ icecaps only produce so much water. A devastating drought hits. And here Kelly’s prose attempts to place our sympathies with the Martians: “the bottoms of the canals are just barely wet, and men kill each other gladly to lick the sweet mud where it has been damp, to eat the ground where it has turned to slime” (79). And thirst “comes on you like madness” (79). Mars waited for Earth’s citizens to rise up in support of the dead and dying: “we have waited on Mars, thinking with every new year that surely you would throw off the yoke” (79). But The Combine has always been too strong.

    And so NX-5 hatches a wild plan, with NX-4 in tow, to rescue Mars.

    And After the Truth Emerges…

    I doubt many readers will find “Famine on Mars” an exemplar of interwar science fiction. The battle sequences feel tacked on and lacking in wonder considering the space station locale. The prose only hits at an emotional level in the short descriptions of horror on Mars. However, I’d suggest Kelly admirably attempts, if in an unpolished manner, to blend pulp action with political commentary on Great Depression, the rise of authoritarianism in Europe, the fears of unrestrained mechanized capitalism, and an uncaring government prone to violent reprisal when faced with protest. “Famine on Mars” manifests the paradigmatic clash between societal reality (the dead and dying on Mars and Earth’s role) and official propaganda promoted by the Combine (effected through brainwashing and claims to racial superiority). And placed against the interwoven historical reality of the rise of Fascism in Europe and the devastating human impact of the Great Depression, “Famine on Mars” shines.

    For those expecting a rating: 3.5/5 (Good).

    • Stock interior art used at the end of stories in Astounding

    Notes

  • Cited and described in Laura Browder’s Rousing the Nation: Radical Culture in Depression America (1998), 15.. ↩︎
  • Edgar Albion Lyons’ The Chosen Race: A Novel Based on the Depression and Machine Age (1936). ↩︎
  • See Brian Attebery’s useful summary “The magazine era: 1926-1960” in The Cambridge Companion to Science Fiction, ed. Edward James and Farah Mendlesohn, 34. He doesn’t even mention The Great Depression; There is substantial scholarship on the Gernsback era. I’ve consulted the following: Eric Leif Davin’s Pioneers of Wonder: Conversations with the Founders of Science Fiction (1999). Mike Ashley’s The Time Machines: The Story of the Science-Fiction Pulp Magazines from the Beginning to 1950 (2000); Mike Ashley and Robert A. W. Lowndes’ The Gernsback Days: A study of the evolution of modern science fiction from 1911-1936 (2004); John Cheng’s Astounding Wonder: Imagining Science and Science Fiction in Interwar America (2012); For the basic historical background on the Great Depression I’ve consulted Jason Scott Smith’s A Concise History of the New Deal (2014). ↩︎
  • Cheng, 9. ↩︎
  • The Dust Bowl’s Wikipedia entry. ↩︎
  • You can read the story here. ↩︎
  • I’ve compiled a list of other stories and novels from era of the Great Depression that address similar socioeconomic problems. ↩︎
  • Oral history interview with Frank K. Kelly for the Truman Library. ↩︎
  • Ashley, The Time Machine, 72. ↩︎
  • Ashley, The Time Machine, 66. ↩︎
  • Ashley, The Time Machine, 75. ↩︎
  • Ashley, The Time Machines, 69; In Gernsback’s magazines, David Lasser had an important role in attempting to integrate realism. See Ch. 1 “The Age of Wonder: Gernsback, David Lasser, and Wonder Stories” in Eric Leif Davin’s Pioneers of Wonder for Lasser’s role and a wonderful interview; See John Cheng’s Astounding Wonder, 311-313 for Lasser’s labor-oriented career after he was fired. ↩︎
  • Ashley, The Time Machine, 84. ↩︎
  • Oral history interview with Frank K. Kelly ↩︎
  • These two incidents are briefly mentioned in Browder’s Rousing the Nation, 17. ↩︎
  • According to Wikipedia, “In the 1920s, Case Corporation and John Deere made combines, introducing tractor-pulled harvesters with a second engine aboard the combine to power its workings”; Kelly was a Midwesterner! ↩︎
  • Hubert Hoover’s Wikipedia entry. ↩︎
  • For book reviews consult the INDEX

    For cover art posts consult the INDEX

    For TV and film reviews consult the INDEX

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    Dust Bowl - Wikipedia