I don't struggle to get past old favorites. Old favorites coexist with exciting new discoveries. Some of my favorite authors, such as Sigrid Undset, are ones I began to read only in middle age. However, a very important source of "new" reading for me is old books that were well regarded by authors I follow. For example, see the piece pasted below on Lynch's Menace from the Moon. I would hate to be limited to books published in the past 30 years, but recent books often put me on to "new" old books. I just read Eugene Vodolazkin's just-published and excellent Laurus, which I hope will cop a Mythopoeic Society award or World Fantasy award; and it, in turn, put me on to The Greek Alexander Romance, which is about 2000 years old I suppose, and which I will start reading this morning....
Jack and the Bookshelf #6
Bohun Lynch’s Menace from the Moon
This early science fiction novel, published in London by Jarrolds in 1925, is indeed a little-known book. Lewis doesn’t seem to have commented on it, but a copy was in his library as catalogued a few years after his death.
Fans of H. G. Wells and John Buchan -- such as Lewis himself -- could have enjoyed the novel’s imaginative premise, occasional bits of satire, and atmospheric passages. The premise is that, in the seventeenth century, the secret of travel to the moon was discovered and three human couples went there. Their ancestors have survived but not thriven. Now never-specified “terribly hostile” conditions make it imperative that they come to the earth; but they no longer possess the secret. They beam at-first-puzzling messages to earth using, as is eventually realized, the “universal” shorthand devised by Bishop Wilkins (an historical person, onetime Warden of Wadham College, Oxford, author of An Essay Towards a Real Character and a Philosophical Language [1668], subject of an essay by Jorge Luis Borges). They threaten earth with destruction from heat-ray projections unless papers their ancestors left behind are retrieved and their contents beamed back to them by the “super-cinematograph” that they assume earth-dwellers must, like themselves, possess. However, those papers appear to have perished; in any event the people of earth don’t have the technology by which to communicate with the moon people; and doom seems assured.
Lynch develops the satirical or ghastly possibilities of human behavior under such an appalling death-sentence less intensely than an author today might. Many people, at least in England, either deny that there really is such a danger or despite their expectations go about their activities as if nothing dreadful is imminent. (This behavior may be a satire on English phlegm.)
Lynch’s writing conveys a Buchanesque quality of adventure early in the novel, when the narrator is lost in the fog on a moor. The sudden and frightening appearance of strange lights -- he doesn’t realize at first that they are projections of Wilkins’s “hieroglyphics” – and the apparition of a face may remind some readers a little of the frightening experiences “Lewis” has at the beginning of Perelandra. The sequence in Menace, Chapter 14, in which the narrator becomes lost again, this time in Italian mountains, and stumbles upon a weird, torch-lit rite conducted by old men beneath the pines, is a bit like something out of Buchan’s “The Wind in the Portico” or The Dancing Floor, stories Lewis is pretty likely to have read and enjoyed. (Along with books about boxing and a few other novels, Lynch wrote a book about travels in Italy, and the Italian episode in Menace from the Moon is as evocative as his moorland material.) A chapter about a mad Oxford scholar, who happens to reside in an old house that might have contained one of the manuscripts needed by the moon-dwellers, and who sets his own house on fire, is exciting in Buchan’s manner, while the sequence in which an invisible ray causes the Ligurian coast to become terribly hot suggests the fiction of Wells, except that Wells would probably have made the passage more frightening.
The novel’s resolution depends on the release of energy from the nucleus of the atom in a way that is surprising for a fiction published just a few years after Ernest Rutherford split the atom, and twenty years before the “Trinity” nuclear test in New Mexico.
(c) 2015 Dale Nelson