Munchausen on the Moon!
Aug. 28th, 2008 12:03 pmOkay, been a while since I did a reading list update.
31. Flashman on the March, by George Macdonald Fraser (2005)
32. The Professor and the Madman, by Simon Winchester (1999)
33. The Star’s Tennis Balls, by Stephen Fry (2000)
34. The Scientific Adventures of Baron Munchausen, by Hugo Gernsback (1915ish)
In brief, all four of these books were worth reading, though #34 is mostly an entertaining curiosity. It’s a collection of magazine articles written by Hugo Gernsback for his old Electrical Experimenter magazine. The articles are based around the idea that Baron Munchausen survived into the 20th century, and has discovered a way to travel through space. He relates his experiences in the ether to the narrator, the questionably reliable inventor, I.M Alier. The stories start as amusing (sort of…) Munchausenesque adventures on the battlefields of Europe, but after a couple of installments they move to the Moon and Mars. At this point, they turn into the usual Gernbackian stuff about rays and giant machines. Munchausen’s role is limited to an observer and lecturer – he alternately tells us all about the phases of the moon (complete with diagrams) or breathlessly reports about superior Martian technology. The stories ended suddenly, and in the afterward the editor speculates that Gernsback was worried about presenting a sympathetic German character. The editor also wonders if Gernsback’s partial prediction, in an early installment, of the enormous tunneling and mining actions that preceded Battle of Messines might have come to the attention of the notoriously sensitive military censors.
The stories were reprinted in 1928 with a hasty conclusion tacked on, but otherwise remained lost to posterity until collected and reprinted as a single book in 2007. The current editor states the opinion that they were lost so long because of Gernsback's negative reputation in fandom as a sharp dealer, skinflint, and…er… really bad writer. I wonder if the real reason was Gernsback’s fetish for technical detail. The stories present a very 19th century view of the planets, and the views of Mars, for example, are heavily dependent on Percival Lowell’s ideas. These would have seemed hopelessly antiquated and laughable by late 40s. Gernsback, who died in 1967, was alive well into the age of interplanetary probes. He may simply have not wanted to admit he ever believed there was an atmosphere on the Moon, for example.
Gernsback’s writing style reminds me of Sir Patrick Moore’s. And, like Moore, Gernsback wore a monocle and had a reputation for being a brilliant curmudgeon. I think it’s the monocle that does it.
I worked like the devil yesterday to get a large document finished – essentially wrote straight through from 8:30 AM till 6:30 PM. As a reward for my diligence, I’m going to take my lunch hour to look at a sort of SF-themed exhibit at a local gallery, with
commanderteddog.
31. Flashman on the March, by George Macdonald Fraser (2005)
32. The Professor and the Madman, by Simon Winchester (1999)
33. The Star’s Tennis Balls, by Stephen Fry (2000)
34. The Scientific Adventures of Baron Munchausen, by Hugo Gernsback (1915ish)
In brief, all four of these books were worth reading, though #34 is mostly an entertaining curiosity. It’s a collection of magazine articles written by Hugo Gernsback for his old Electrical Experimenter magazine. The articles are based around the idea that Baron Munchausen survived into the 20th century, and has discovered a way to travel through space. He relates his experiences in the ether to the narrator, the questionably reliable inventor, I.M Alier. The stories start as amusing (sort of…) Munchausenesque adventures on the battlefields of Europe, but after a couple of installments they move to the Moon and Mars. At this point, they turn into the usual Gernbackian stuff about rays and giant machines. Munchausen’s role is limited to an observer and lecturer – he alternately tells us all about the phases of the moon (complete with diagrams) or breathlessly reports about superior Martian technology. The stories ended suddenly, and in the afterward the editor speculates that Gernsback was worried about presenting a sympathetic German character. The editor also wonders if Gernsback’s partial prediction, in an early installment, of the enormous tunneling and mining actions that preceded Battle of Messines might have come to the attention of the notoriously sensitive military censors.
The stories were reprinted in 1928 with a hasty conclusion tacked on, but otherwise remained lost to posterity until collected and reprinted as a single book in 2007. The current editor states the opinion that they were lost so long because of Gernsback's negative reputation in fandom as a sharp dealer, skinflint, and…er… really bad writer. I wonder if the real reason was Gernsback’s fetish for technical detail. The stories present a very 19th century view of the planets, and the views of Mars, for example, are heavily dependent on Percival Lowell’s ideas. These would have seemed hopelessly antiquated and laughable by late 40s. Gernsback, who died in 1967, was alive well into the age of interplanetary probes. He may simply have not wanted to admit he ever believed there was an atmosphere on the Moon, for example.
Gernsback’s writing style reminds me of Sir Patrick Moore’s. And, like Moore, Gernsback wore a monocle and had a reputation for being a brilliant curmudgeon. I think it’s the monocle that does it.
I worked like the devil yesterday to get a large document finished – essentially wrote straight through from 8:30 AM till 6:30 PM. As a reward for my diligence, I’m going to take my lunch hour to look at a sort of SF-themed exhibit at a local gallery, with
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