Science Fiction Though the Decades

Showing posts with label underground. Show all posts
Showing posts with label underground. Show all posts

Thursday, March 15, 2012

1973: The Unreal People (Siegel, Martin)

Amidst social decay blossoms revolt (4/5)


Lancer Books had a brief experimental tryst with Martin Siegel in 1969 with Agent of Entropy and in 1973 with The Unreal People. Both books were only published once and left to ebb in the waters of science fiction obscurity. This book was published posthumously after the author's death in 1972. As short as his run at science fiction was, he left an esoteric yet indelible impression on the sub-genre of underground settings, much akin to Guy Snyder's Testament XXI, which, oddly enough, was also publish in 1973 and Louis Trimble's The City Machine (1972), where the oppressed citizens of another hierarchical status and tower strata seek for change by moving OUT of their closed-system society.

Rear cover synopsis:
"Memories of Earth... the world had once been free. Men walked openly in the sunlight, gazed at the starry night, dreamed of conquests greater than that of just staying alive. But freedom had died a long time ago, so many hundreds of years in the past that no one really remembered any longer what freedom really meant. Earth was still there, a few hundred feet over their heads, while men crawled through the ancient tunnels like animals, kept in subjugation by drugs, slaves to the most corrupt government ever conceived--but none dared go there. The surface was dead, poisoned, taboo--until the children of Earth's last generation forced their way out of humankind's grave!"

Less than a dozen floors below the once great city of New York lies the derelict remains of earth's humankind, the filthy enclave a result of an unknown earth-wide cataclysm. In a strata of subterranean and social hierarchy, the First Guides are the privileged class, while on the opposite end of the social spectrum are those living in the Rat Hole. Regardless of wealth or status, it's obvious to everyone that conditions in the complex are deteriorating: the air is more stale, the water is putrid, the food rations are dwindling, and the infant death rate is depressingly high. At the center of the city's existence is the Machine:
Down at the lowest level, far south of the main ganglia of the city, where even the rats seldom went, was Machine, which automatically kept the city clean and sucked some food from the water. Nobody took care of it. The mechanisms were sealed and automatic. Nobody even knew how it worked. (127)
The hellish conditions of the city imbibe their own form of escapism through the government-sanctioned church called the Psychedelic Pswastika:
...offically known as the Cathedral of St. Sominex, PEP (Psychedelic Eclectic Presbyterian)... The religious functions included marriage and death rites; marriage and death counselling; psychoanalytic therapy; other forms of therapy including Reichian, Learyan, Mailerian, Encounter and Botulistic; the Holy Hookers; the drug machines but not the liquor business; the nightclub show, and the pawnshop. (16)
While the First Guides hold a lion's share of the profits from the Psychedelic Pswastika, the shares are lesser for those working further under the tyrant hand of the First Guides. Conrad is second in command of the Narko Skwad and earns a mere pittance from the profits. His disenfranchisement in communal affairs and the loss of his newborn baby have brought him to the wilted edge of the bough of sanity. He decides to kick the habit of the mandatory "loyalty drug" and incur its unpleasant side effects, to partake in treasonous affairs, and to co-plot the murder of the First Guides.

The mention of "Sominex" is a page one introduction to the drug use in the book. Diphenhydramine is only the mildest of drugs used to induce relaxation, inhibition, suggestiveness, and rapture. The protagonist Conrad is often accompanied by his water pipe, while students at the Vincent Price Community College ingest, inhale, or intravenously take their professor-prescribed drugs in order to facilitate their learning (two of the majors offered are Twentieth Century Horror and I-Hate-To-Cookology). The drug use of prevalent but it doesn't override the plot's flow into a psychotropic eddy of imagery and thought association. Only during "Part Two: Conrad's Dream" does the reader get a 24-page surreal view from the use of the "nerve machine" which causes him to detemporalize his memories and forecasts.

The rest of the book dabbles in minor characters tied in with Conrad's life, all of which somehow connect with his plan to assassinate the First Guides and run off to the "out side," where nature has overtaken the city and rumors of illness and radiation keep the people cowering underground. The way Siegel keeps the focus on the grimy tunnel city is unique, as most other authors tend to stray away from their fantastic plot settings in order to chase plot twists and obvious tropes. Siegel keeps is real and he keeps it interesting... and he even drops of huge "uncertainty bomb" is "Part Two."

But Siegel is also inconsistent in his prose. Most of the novel is written without any sort of flare besides the above mentioned focus on the underground city. His characterization of the city's culture is as great as is his personification of Conrad with his hair-trigger finger, dispassionate service, and world-weariness. But his prose fails him sometimes because of his attempt to cross-over the sensation that not everything is kosher in Dodge City... some passages are so herky-jerky that the reading is teeth-clenching-ly bad: "He felt cold. His bowels were in working order but they didn't feel good." (67) and "Coy flashes and twitchings of maniac electricity made the muscles of his thighs and arms move like robot things." (93)

But then Siegel reels the reader back into the poetic fold with:
Suns burst in his head. Sometimes they were the hot suns of deserts--huge blasting balls of heat--sometimes the red eyes of sunset of dying planets; sometimes the blinding but wonderful suns of spring mornings; sometimes even the cool calm peace of the moon. (94)
and
The old man was praying. A mumbling sound, wordless, came from his lips. After a while the cadence merged into one band of sound--like a whispering under the pounding of surf on the ocean. The old man heard the ocean returning to him as if his prayer reechoed back through invisible seashells pressed to his ears. (131)
So, through the syrupy passages of descriptive bliss and gritty travels through one-word sentences and three-word dialogue, Siegel pens a pretty good novel about the inhabitants of a closed-system city wishing to venture out. Methinks I'll give Agent of Entropy a shot, if I can find it. With only two obscure novels penned by this author, it should be hard to come by.

1959: Level 7 (Roshwald, Mordecai)

Hermetic solitude 4400 feet deep is true freedom (5/5)
From May 28, 2009


Splashed across the cover of Level 7 reads, "A horrifying, prophetic document of the future - the diary of a man living 4000 feet underground in a society hell-bent on atomic self-destruction" which does the book no justice at all. Perhaps the rear cover puts the novel into a better light as it reads, "He is safe from nuclear war... safe from sunshine, blue skies, and love. His perpetual assignment is the Bomb - to stand guard ready to push the button that will turn the world into a charred ember of smoking death..." Now, while the back cover sums up the story better, it still doesn't do the book much justice.

It's not exactly poetically sculpted nor is it poorly written, rather, it's a day-to-day journal of a not-so-common man in his not-so-common job and his contemplations on earth's situation, his reflections on his subterranean society and his experiences being a push-button operator. Officer X-127, as he's know to his colleagues, friends and eventual wife paints a detailed picture of what Level 7 is, how it operates and what purpose it ultimately serves. Being 4400 feet underground in a hermetically sealed bunker and being twelve buttons away from the end of the world might make you a bit philosophical, psychotic or just plain numb. We witness the scope of these mental reflections in both X-127 himself and in the others around him.

It's a depressing read, that's true. It'll make you sympathize with all five-hundred of the Level 7 cave-dwellers, the other million or so making up the remaining six levels and even the poor populous stranded on the surface. Level 6 at 3,000 feet deep houses 2,000 military defense personnel and is just as self-sufficient at Level 7, but more prone to contamination, old age and insanity. Level 5 at 1,500 feet deep will house 20,000 elite members of society for about 200 years. Level 4 at 1,000 feet deep will hold 100,000 important people for 100 years. Level 3 is 500 feet deep and will hold 200,000 important individuals for only 25 years. The last two Levels are 100 feet and 60 feet deep and are both designed to hold one million people each but are much more susceptible to all things dangerous in a limited or total nuclear war.

There's so much detail, it's almost juicy if it weren't dryly written. For the sheer sake of exploring Roshwald's leveled world, this is a sci-fi gem.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

1982: Gemini Rising (Filbrun, J.S.)

"Found footage" review of an underground disaster (3/5)
From May 3, 2011

The single edition of the single novel produced by the author J.S. Filbrun... it was destined to become lost among the bookshelves, forgotten about mere weeks after printing, perhaps best used to prop up a slightly lean-to table or to keep a pesky door ajar. I was suckered into buying it for one dollar as the rear cover synopsis was pretty good:

"THE TIME: Tomorrow. THE PLACE: Project Gemini, a top-secret, ultra-sophisticated scientific base a thousand feet below the Texas earth. THE MENACE: An unknown terror rampaging through Gemini, blasting a path of destruction through level after level of computers and crew. THE THREAT: In four hours, unless a daring man-and-woman team of counter-saboteurs can stem the tide of death, Project Gemini will self-destruct, [underlined] and the whole Earth will perish..."

Sounds pretty epic, eh? Though the 179 pages did imbue a rather mundane suspense, it failed to really grab my attention as it started off entirely on the wrong foot. Page one contains a rather overdone eleven-line quote from the Book of Revelations, proceeded by two pages of factual material about the underground base and the next nineteen pages contain one grisly death, two forceful sex scenes and one boob grope.

Thereafter, all which was semi-calm in the underground base comes to a halt as an explosion rocks the ground level, electrify goes on the fritz, communications are non-existent and some heinous facts come to light about the secret project 1,196 feet below the Texas earth. A team of six people back their way to the sub-basement in order to deactivate a binary bomb which threatens to destroy the base in six hours, twenty-seven minutes and four point seven seconds. For a super-classified, super-secure and super-sophisticated base like this, there seems to be an awful lot of air ducts which render the base as porous as a sponge. Predictably, like a bad thrasher film, the team gets knocked off one-by-one in one grisly manner or another. Admittedly, it was a nice change of pace to see something unfold so predictably.

As bad as the beginning was, it was a bittersweet delight to reach the conclusion just two hours after starting the book. You could just throw your brain away when reading this one. The suspense that occurs in the plot is tamed by the reader's knowledge that the heroes comprise of a frail-bodied man and a busty vixen. Picturing the two against the shadowy threat lurking in the darkened corridors put a smile on my face rather than an ounce of adrenaline in my veins. Suspenseful? Hmph.

The one redeeming quality of this book was the computer BRUCE, which had a witty intelligence when conversing with the short-tempered human operators. It didn't play a important role in the end, or even in the middle, but it was a nice addition of comic relief when, otherwise, the book would've been a total stinker. Edit Another redeeming factor, which actually made me put it back onto my bookshelf, was that the book was written in a sort of "found footage" montage where a computer was reconstructing through it's sensors' data what took place. Interesting.

I would recommend buying this novel in a second-hand bookstore if you can find the correct spare change in the lend-a-penny jar... or if you just really love a cheap, cheesy one-off pseudo-suspense novel... or the unique "found footage" aspect of the book, which makes it a keeper.