The Taser's Edge

Odd John by Olaf Stapledon
To start this review, you should see the artwork for various editions of the book, much of it wonderful:
No, it has nothing to do with aliens. Whatever would give you that misleading impression?

This is what a young English boy (the title character) looks like if he stays naked in the sun in the Pacific long enough.

This cover's caption and artwork have nothing to do with the book's plot.

And here we have artwork featuring a green-skinned alien for a book featuring no aliens, green-skinned or otherwise.

Finally, a rendition of John that matches Stapledon's descriptions. Although it obscures the fact that none of the book is set in space.

My older brother likes to mix up his classics with his not-so-classics.  For instance, this summer he followed up Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina with Odd John by Olaf Stapledon.  Z described it to me as “if the X-Men comics were conceived in the 1930s.”  The following is the inscription from the inside cover of the crumbling paperback he loaned me, in cramped cursive handwriting from a previous owner (or so Z claims):

I have purchased this book because it seems about a theme which is the story of my own life: how can a superman live in a world of ordinary men?  Obviously, the penalty is death, to be right about anything; as demonstrated repeatedly by historical occurrences.  And yet, I think we superior men should not give up w/ out a struggle; & I may be able to get some pointers or suggestions as to how to prolong the agony long enough, perhaps, to accomplish some of my ideas.

John R. Martin

The strange thing is, this book really could be read as a manifesto for what a person beyond Homo sapiens should do in relation to the rest of us non-superhumans.  To me that speaks to its strength as speculative fiction.  The author really thought through all kinds of biology, history, politics, physics, engineering, and philosophy.  Actually, it could come across as preachy were it not so fantastical.

The other work with which I think Odd John could be fruitfully compared is Herman Wouk’s epic novel The Winds of War about the build-up to World War II.  Really.  Both Stapledon and Wouk are struggling with the complex modern world and where it is headed.

Stapledon’s Odd John argues that humans have created a world too big for their evolutionary breeches.  Their industrialization and economics have become too big to be tamed or really understood (not a bad insight today either).  At one point, John compares the future advancement of Homo sapiens as a species to a spider trying to escape from a deep porcelain sink.  It can crawl partway up the side, perhaps even most of the way, but its progress is inevitably blocked, and it will eventually slide back down, eventually to its death.  Politically, this would mean a world ever more at war with itself, ever more confused, a confusion perhaps caused by this progress beyond human limits.  Perhaps it could mean worldwide war.  Did I mention it was initially published in 1936?

Meanwhile Wouk’s various characters in Winds of War, published in 1971, are living from the late 1930s up to 1941.  Like the characters of Odd John, they too are arguing about the cause of what’s happening to continental Europe and the larger world.  They throw out theories about the inevitability of the rise of Hitler or a force like him.  Like Stapledon’s characters, Wouk’s characters talk about politics, history, philosophy, physics, and more.  All their conversations and even their existence seem to be about figuring out why the war happened and why the Holocaust happened, and whether either or both were inevitable.  It doesn’t seem too much of a stretch to think this is the author’s own inner dialogue.  But his conclusions are ultimately unconvincing, and perhaps that’s because even a 1,000-page paperback can’t ‘figure out’ something like the 20th century failing to digest the 19th.

Somehow, Odd John, at a brief 191 pages in my (Z’s) copy, manages to think through all these things much more deeply.  And more authentically, written, as it was, during Hitler’s rise, but before it was clear what his rise would mean for the world.  Most interestingly, Odd John works through, just as Nazism did, how superhumanity (self-perceived in both cases and real in only the fictional) might relate to normal humanity.

Check it out.  If it’s not in your local library or bookstore (and odds are, it isn’t), it is available in full on Project Gutenberg Australia.

Tuesday Reading Wrap-up 1 (a.k.a. Tuesday Reading Roundup 11 (a.k.a. Tuesday Reading Retrospective 1))

Due to the 2-hit combo of shrill popular request and common sense (a dramatization of that conversation can be found here), I decided to change the weekly preview to a weekly retrospective.

1. Batman: The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller–This book is divided into four books.  It starts out very promising, but now at 3/4 of the way through, I wonder if there is too much going on.  This is why I hate talking about books before finishing them and judging them before I finish them.  But, so you know what the convolutedness is about, Superman has shown up; the Soviets have launched a nuclear war with a bomb which also had an electromagnetic pulse, knocking out all America’s electronics (and thus her own launch capacities); and Superman has almost died because of the fact that the blast blocked out the sun.  Oh yeah, Batman is still around, getting shivved by the Joker and then getting rescued by the new Robin (who’s a girl!).

2. The Giving Gift: The Holy Spirit in Person by Tom Smail–Smail is (was?) a Church of England priest who had some very real charismatic experiences and then felt the need to write about the charismatic world theologically, in order to correct both the excesses of the non-denominational charismatic movement and the shortcomings of the larger Church in speaking of the work of the Holy Spirit.

3. Great Lent: Journey to Pascha by Alexander Schmemann–Ha.  I finished it…at least the bulk of it.  It has a rather lengthy appendix attached, which I am inclined to read.  It took me forever, but I would still suggest you read it.

4. Beyond Companionship: Christians in Marriage by Diana S. Richmond and David E. Garland–The selection for this week is the final chapter of the book, “What God has Joined Together.”  As you might guess, it is a chapter on divorce, a very good chapter, indeed much better than the other resources we read for this week, apparently Divorce Week, in Esther Acolatse’s Christian Marriage and Family Across Culture.

5. Ending Marriage, Keeping Faith: A New Guide Through the Spiritual Journey of Divorce by J. Randall Nichols–I actually read the selections from this book before the last book, and I was really disappointed by it.  Nichols, I think, is purposely trying to push buttons of conservative Christians with chapters titled “Divorce is Not a Sin” and “Forgiveness Has Its Limits” (which, while they may not sound provocative to you, they certainly do in certain circles).  He then claims to set out to see “what the Bible really says” on the topic of divorce, but fails to do any real exegesis.  While I think that most people need to be shown how complicated the difficult parts of life really can be, Nichols mostly talks in generalities while claiming to talk in specifics about various Scriptures coming into contact with modern life.  As I already said, it’s disappointing.  All caregivers need to problematize life to show how complicated it really is; pastoral caregivers need to take no less trouble in respecting the complexities of Scripture.

6. “Divorce and Remarriage in the Catholic Church” by Michael G. Lawler–Lawler digs into canon law, Church history, and Scripture in order to argue for inconsistencies in the Roman Catholic Church’s views on marriage, annulment, and divorce.  It’s interesting, but only so compelling to me as an outsider.