25 Points: 3 Novels by Barry N. Malzberg (Beyond Apollo, The Men Inside, & Galaxies)
Beyond Apollo | 1972, Random House | 156 pages
The Men Inside | 1973, Prestige Books | 175 pages
Galaxies | 1975, Pyramid Books | 128 pages
(Note: all three of these books are out of print, but cheap used copies can be found. In Chicago, I bought Beyond Apollo for $2.95 at Myopic Books (in Wicker Park) and The Men Inside for $3 at Bucket O’ Blood Books and Records (Logan Square). Galaxies I purchased used through Amazon for $1.25 + s/h.)
1. On 15 August 2011, my pal Jeremy M. Davies emailed me and said that I should look for a book called Galaxies by Barry N. Malzberg because it was “seriously beyond belief.”
I’m ashamed to say it took me until earlier this year to pick up a copy and read it. However, once I got started, I finished it under 24 hours.
2. Barry N. Malzberg was born in 1939. Since 1968, he’s written at least 66 books, if not more. (He’s worked under ten different names that I know of, which complicates compiling a full list.) Dozens of them are science-fiction novels—at least in theory. He’s also written story collections, essay collections, movie novelizations, crime novels, and pornography.
3. Galaxies (1975) at first glance tells the story of a young astronaut, Lena Thomas, the sole crew member of the spaceship Skipstone. Her cargo is an immense tank of goo filled with 515 human corpses. It’s the year 3902 and a person can pay to have his/her body ferried into space after death in the hopes that cosmic radiation will revive them.
Midway through the voyage, the Skipstone falls into a black hole, and the majority of the novel’s plot deals with Lena’s attempt to escape the ensuing hallucinatory free fall. During that timeless time she repeatedly dies and is reborn, recalls her lover John, consults with cyborg engineers, and communes with the dead, who have psychically reawakened.
But that’s not really what Galaxies is about.
4. Rather, Galaxies is a work of metafiction, concerned with its own creation, and presented as Malzberg’s notes on how he would write the novel Galaxies, if only he could. (He maintains that the novel is impossible to complete with present knowledge.) As such, most scenes are outlined rather than dramatically depicted. For instance, Chapter 29 begins:
And here could run yet another moody flashback concerning Lena’s relationship with John, dropped in to provide color and poignance, augmenting the mood of despair. Long sexual passages here could alternate with painful streams of consciousness in the present. Sex and space, orgasm and isolation could run counterpoint, and the author’s gifts for irony, which are not modest, would be exhibited to their fullest range. Also, in the traditions of modern science fiction, the sex scenes could be quite titillating, render the novel some extraliterary interest. A construct like this could use all the extraliterary interest it could get.
But even that’s not really what Galaxies is about.
6. Rather, Galaxies is about what science-fiction should look like in the year 1975. Malzberg is surveying contemporary literature and asking: How should science-fiction respond to the then-recent literary experiments of John Cheever, John Barth, Donald Barthelme, Joyce Carol Oates, Philip Roth, and others?
7. I’m not making this up. On page 48 Malzberg writes:
For instance, as the ship falls, there could be some elaboration on the suggestion that neutron stars might be pulsars which would be most intriguing, if the reader has not been intrigued sufficiently by the notion that all of “life” as we understand it when we glimpse the heavens may be merely an incidental by-product of the cycle of neutron stars.
So there, Cheever, Barth, Barthelme, Oates. What in the collected works would touch that for angst?
8. Malzberg calls those authors out again on page 85:
“Madness,” Lena says, shaking her head, “that’s utter madness,” but the author, busily pulling the handles of this little dumb show, sweating behind the canvas, casting a nearsighted, astigmatic eye every now and then through the cardboard of the set to see whether the audience is paying attention, how the audience is taking all of this, is thinking take that Barth, Barthelme, Roth, or Oates! Pace Bellow and Malamud, and may your Guggenheims multiply, but what have any of you or those unnamed created to compare with this?
9. If I haven’t convinced you yet to spend $2–3 on a used copy of Galaxies, you might as well quit reading now.
43 Comments
April 1st, 2013 / 8:01 am
April 1st, 2013 / 8:01 am
First Sentences or Paragraphs #3: Philip Roth Edition
[series note: This post is the third of five, in a week-long series examining first sentences or paragraphs. It's not my intention to be prescriptive about what kinds of first sentences writers ought to be writing. Instead, I hope to simply take a look at five sets of first sentences for the purpose of thinking about how they introduce the reader to the story or novel to which they belong. I plan to post them without commentary, as one might post a photograph or painting, and open up the comment threads to your observations as readers. Some questions that interest me and might interest you include: 1. How is the first sentence (or paragraph -- I'll include some of those, too, since some first sentences require the next few sentences to even be available for this kind of analysis) interesting or not interesting on grounds of language? 2. Does the first sentence introduce any particular (or general feeling of) trouble or conflict or dissonance or tension into the story that makes the reader want to keep reading? 3. Does the first sentence do anything to immerse the reader in the donnee, the ground rules, the world of the story, those orienting questions such as who speaks, when and where are we in space and time, etc.? 4. Since the first sentence, in the wild, doesn't exist in the contextless manner in which I've presented these, in what kinds of ways does examining them like this create false ideas about the uses and functions of first sentences? What kinds of things ought first sentences be doing? What kinds of things do first sentences not do often enough? (It seems likely to me that you will have competing ideas about first sentences. Please offer them here. Every idea or observation gets our good attention.) The sentence/paragraph sets we've been or will be observing: 1. first sentences from Mary Miller's Big World; 2. first sentences from physically large novels; 3. the first sentences from every book written by Philip Roth; 4. first sentences from the Norton Anthology of Short Fiction; 5. first sentences from Best European Fiction 2010.]
The first time I saw Brenda she asked me to hold her glasses.
- Goodbye, Columbus
Dear Gabe, The drugs help me bend my fingers around a pen. READ MORE >
Dept. of Arbitraryish Statistics: Three Variations on Three-Act Structure Edition
J.M. Coetzee
Coetzee, J.M. Disgrace. New York: Viking, 1999.
Acts: 3.
Chapters: 24.
Chapters per Act: 8.
Pages per Chapter: 8-10. READ MORE >
Variations on Hating Part 2! The Young Philip Roth Rebels
I had- and still have, but that’s another post- a huge crush on Philip Roth. Look how hot he was. In an earlier brief post (click here), I touched on a certain artist’s need to embarrass herself. I often feel the same. I think Roth did, too. Perhaps it’s a youthful impulse. Regardless, I believe Roth has three masterpieces (One which is actually four books): Zuckerman Bound (which consists of The Ghost Writer, Zuckerman Unbound, The Anatomy Lesson and The Prague Orgy ), Sabbath’s Theater and American Pastoral. (Oh, And possibly The Counterlife goes in there too.) READ MORE >
The ecstasy of a faint outdoor wind: A photo essay by Philip Roth
Hi, I’m Philip Roth, the author American Pastoral and other books without so much foliage. I love the smell of fresh cut grass and foreskin. But hey, enough with the Jewish jokes. Whenever the camera crew comes to do a profile on me, I say “Hey, I have an idea — it would be nice if we went outside.”
I’m thinking. I’m thinking about America and the plight of the ‘other.’ I’m thinking about a waspy girl I once wanted to make love to. I’m thinking of that protestant ass. I’m thinking of my shopping list: eggs, broccoli, extra virgin olive oil, national book award, toilet paper. God I love being outside at or around dusk.
Viewer Mail!
| from |  M. Baumer |
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| to | Justin Taylor |
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| date | Thu, Dec 4, 2008 at 12:13 AM |
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| subject | a note from thieves jargon |
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| mailed-by | gmail.com |
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Hello Justin Taylor,
I am one of the fiction editors at Thieves Jargon. I was going to write a big thing about Thieves Jargon and Matt DiGangi after I read your HTML post today. I don’t think I’m upset. I think I most agree with Sam Pink. Similar to Zachary German I used to not care for Sam Pink until about a week ago. I was thrown off by his blog. Anyway, I wanted to get across to you that I think Matt has done some really good things with Thieves Jargon. He’s been at it for five years. He started it back when the internet was still good. I don’t know what that means. Someone once said, “The internet died two years ago.” I don’t know what they meant by this. I can only guess. They said this to me one year ago. Three years ago the internet was still alive? Maybe it’s because I don’t like to read comments. Today made me feel a little nauseous.
I believe BB is a good person. I know Matt is. The internet makes people different. I don’t think there is a right and wrong here. I am being cliche or a pussy. Someone should apologize. I will. ”I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I think I was born out of wedlock.”
I feel like I’m doing a bad impression of Sam Pink. Fuck…Bitch…Lewd sexual movements in Langston Hughes face?
I don’t know where else to go with this. You know when you’re watching a movie and you can see the trainwreck coming and you tense up and want to kick the characters in the head because it’s pretty obvious what’s going to happen next. I don’t think this is like that. I don’t think it matters that much.
Maybe I will go to your house some day in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt or a t-shirt. That’s my threat. I hope you’re scared. You can tell all the contributors to HTML GIANT the same goes for them except for Jimmy Chen. If I was going to Jimmy Chen’s house I would make a cake. I have a very easy cake recipe. You only need soda and cake mix. Don’t tell Jimmy. I don’t want him to be disappointed in my cake.
Fuck, I feel like making Mr. DiGangi a cake. I think he deserves one. BB could probably use one. You should make him one.
Both of them wake up in the morning. DiGangi posts the daily Thieves Jargon story. BB probably looks at a Lost Highway poster or something. DiGangi gets on the subway and reads a book that probably no one else around him has heard of. The mailman probably thinks BB is a terrorist receiving airplane manuals. DiGangi works all day publishing boring textbooks, then he goes to class, comes home, does homework, and Thieves Jargon editor duties. BB probably writes a novel in that time. Etc. Etc. Etc.
I don’t know what else to say. I’ve rambled on and said nothing.
Just know I was serious about my threat. I’ve rejected people in person before. I’ve gone to people’s houses and knocked on their doors and said, “Hello, I’m from Thieves Jargon.”
I’m glad today happened.
Everyone should cheer.
Hail DiGangi.
I don’t know what else to think.
-Mark Baumer
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www.thievesjargon.com
www.everydayyeah.com
Gee, that was random.
********BONUS********* JUSTIN TAYLOR REPLIES:
| rom | Justin Taylor |
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| to | “M. Baumer” |
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| date | Thu, Dec 4, 2008 at 11:33 AM |
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| subject | Re: a note from thieves jargon |
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| mailed-by | gmail.com |
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Hi, Mark, thanks for writing. I don’t really know what to make of your letter. To be honest, it doesn’t seem like it should have been addressed to me. It’s not exactly about any of the things I wrote about in my recent blog post, which itself was rather explicit about being somewhat predicated by, but hardly “about,” Matt DiGangi and Thieves Jargon–two entities about which I know very little, and not for lack of opportunity either.
I’m sorry that Matt has to edit boring textbooks. We must, all of us, do something. For example, I have to think of lesson plans and commute to New Jersey twice a week to teach my class, and then I have to grade my students’ papers. Let me tell you, brother, it’s no walk in the park, although I do get to walk through campus, which has many park-like qualities. Also, sometimes the students write things that are very funny. Typically, they have not done so on purpose.
Speaking of which, I have no idea what “when the internet was still good” means, but then I’m not the one who said it. Since you’re the one who said it, it is discomforting to know that you don’t know what it means either. Do you often make declarations incomprehensible even to yourself and then send them off in personal letters to strangers?
Personally, I think shoelaces both got really lame in the mid-90s, but they seem to have really re-emerged during the last year or two, totally transformed and ready to assert their relevance–even necessity, perhaps–to the culture. I can’t wait to see what happens with shoelaces next.
In closing, I wish that I could promise to keep your secret about the simplicity of your cake recipe from Jimmy, but the fact of the matter is that I’m almost certainly going to post your letter and my response (that is, this letter which I’m writing right now) on HTMLGiant later this afternoon, or possibly even this morning, so I guess he’ll probably learn the truth that way.
JT
************DOUBLE YOUR BONUS*********
M. BAUMER REPLIES TO THE REPLY:
| from | M. Baumer |
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| to | Justin Taylor |
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| date | Thu, Dec 4, 2008 at 12:52 PM |
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| subject | Re: a note from thieves jargon |
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| mailed-by | gmail.com |
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Hey Justin,
I give you permission to post my email without my permission.
Please include this:
I also want to say something about BB that makes fun of the way he gets off or something, but I am not very good at shit talking.
Justin, I think you want me to kill myself. ‘Shoelaces’ was my self-termination code word when I was created as a sad pot of soup on the back left burner. Then some family ate me.
I honestly think lots of people would consider being gay with BB’s blogspot account. I guess this is a compliment. Sometimes I worry about saying anything bad about BB and any other expert bloggers because in the back of my head I think, “If they kill themselves someone in the future will read this comment of me calling them a ‘shitfuck’ and then they’ll google my name and find my address and come to my house via google maps and dump un-erasable spam on my front lawn and my wife will say, ‘how could you say that?’ and then stop talking to me over gchat and i’ll marriage will be over.”
Oh well.
To Blake
“You’re a shitfuck. Don’t kill yourself.”
Are we having a feud now? About what?
