Fiction

The Archive

by Bob Johnston

Marrak slipped and fell heavily on her backside. The land had turned out to be a nightmare of deep, ankle-breaking pits. She thought of the crippled capsule on the high moor behind her. Crippled, but weatherproof, and with ample supplies. God, what a journey.

She resisted the urge to stand and push on. She was tiring and weakening rapidly, and had to manage her physical resources cleverly. Another ten minutes wouldn’t hurt, even if the anemic sunlight of Barnard’s Star would soon be gone for forty hours. She sat tight for the full ten minutes, ate a little, drank a lot, and then pressed on.

Long, tough walks force the mind to do two things at once; focus and wander. From the doubt when she left earth, her resolve to find a safe place for the Gutenberg Bible in her backpack had only strengthened as she got closer to her destination. Even now, increasingly scared of falling, breaking something and dying slowly, that resolve was unbroken.

She crashed out of the field of ferns and onto a mat of what passed for grass here. The mountains were close and, she was glad to see, not so intimidatingly high as they had seemed from a distance.

What did the book she was carrying really mean, she wondered. She wasn’t sure, but she lived in a time when the incinerators were back at work across the galaxy, and she had decided, if there was one book she could save, it was going to be the Gutenberg. It wasn’t burning on her watch, she remembered thinking dramatically. She smiled and stepped forward into the light drizzle. When the inquisitors of rationality came looking, Marrak had decided the Gutenberg would be gone.

#

The Archive, if it actually existed, had once been a military facility. Then it had become a repository for business records. Then some enterprising sort had taken ownership of the complex and, instead of torching the lot and making some other use of the place, they had started reading the material lining its shelves. And it became the legendary Archive, holding the second most important thing in the universe, knowledge. The first is, of course, time.

She imagined how this citadel built for war might look, but when she finally stumbled upon it, sore and blistered, she found a modest single floored structure with a slate roof. She sat on a raised bank of rock and fern. There was no question that this had once been a military location. Barely a stone’s throw to her left was a massive gun emplacement, its concrete base still terrifying but magnificent, the barrel a huge lump of rust.

Finally rested, she walked to the door and knocked, politely but firmly, three times.

The door opened and a very ordinary man stood in front of her. He smiled.

‘Can I help you?’

She had practiced her reply many times.

‘I have a Gutenberg Bible. I heard there was an archive where it might be safe.’

‘You look like you’ve had a tough journey. Come on in.’

#

Menhenick and his colleagues seemed delighted to have new company. He was enthusiastic to show her the vast, cavernous underworld below the modest building on the surface.

‘The process of organizing such a vast archive will take centuries. The business that established this facility was cynical in the extreme. Knowing that most of what came in would never be looked for again they simply piled it in. They forgot that, seen again or not, it was important, otherwise it would not be here.’

Marrak ran her hands along a shelf of newly translated and printed material.

‘Do you engage with this stuff? I mean, beyond archiving, does any of it interest you personally?’

He smiled.

‘Most of it is like everything else, but I have dealt with a few amusing pieces. We found a package recently that had been deposited in a rural bank shortly before a major world war on earth. The receipt for the deposit was signed by several members of prominent families in the town. The pack contained substantial amounts of paper cash; in the currency of the enemy their country would soon be facing. I studied the families in question and they remained influential for several generations while none of their neighbors ever knew that their grandparents had been feathering their own nests, even in the face of a foreign invasion.’

He looked at Marrak, his face now serious.

‘It is a small anecdote but it demonstrates how important information is. If anyone in that bank had told the town what its most notable citizens had hidden away, things would have been very difficult for those families. Information is the most ubiquitous of things, the easiest to record, and that which the powerful are most fearful of. Hence their constant obsession with concealing it. An obsession that never succeeds.’

Marrak unslung her rucksack and remove the bible. She unwrapped the book and held it up to him.

‘This is one of the most important books ever printed and I want to ensure it is never thrown into the flames. Can you help me?’

Menhenick looked the book up and down as if it was a penny paperback at a second-hand book sale.

‘We have many early printed books and you are correct, this is important in the history of printing. But you seem to have a more intimate attachment to what is just paper and ink.’

Marrak was outraged.

‘Just paper and ink? It’s a Bible.’

Menhenick merely smiled, once more.

‘I understand. A sacred text. We will take care of it but it will simply become another part of The Archive.’

Menhenick took the Gutenberg Bible and placed it on a high table behind him.

‘We will look after it, believe me.’

The immensity of his lack of understanding suddenly overwhelmed her.

‘Menhenick, that is not just a book, it is…’

‘We do not doubt how sacred this document is but we are also confident that your God is perfectly capable of recreating it anywhere and anytime it is needed. This is an archive, not a church.’

#

Marrak walked under the feeble rays of Barnard’s Star. The Archive had no vehicles to take her back to her stricken capsule, but had given her plenty of food, water, and assurances that her Bible would be cared for. She sighed. It clearly meant little to them, beyond its notoriety and seeming danger to the powerful.

She stepped out of the valley of the Archive and was awed by the landscape in front of her. She had not once looked back on the journey in, vision still blurred by single-minded purpose. All this beauty shrouded from her on that walk.

She could call for rescue when she reached the capsule but, smiling, she realized she was in no particular rush right now to be anywhere other than here.

She sat down and prayed quietly.

~

Bio:

Bob Johnston lives in Scotland where he scribbles, reads theology, and marvels at the country’s beauty when it isn’t raining, which isn’t often. He likes a good story; ancient, old, or brand new and tries to create good stories of his own.

Philosophy Note:

The inspiration for this story is the censoriousness of recent years, and the Bowdlerising of old established titles. None of this is new, but one does hope that these waves of narrow-minded banning might eventually come to a stop. Philosophically the piece addresses the conflicting human drives to protect knowledge and to suppress it, and whether those who protect it need to be particularly interested in it.

Fiction

An Image Of Worlds

by Arturo Sierra

No one who needs an accurate map of the stars will find a use for the Imago Mundorum. It doesn’t tell astronomers where to point their telescopes at, in the skies of their disparate nights; astrologers can’t make any mystical sense of planets dancing around the far away suns it catalogues, and it’s far too imprecise, even in its more detailed versions, to chart the course of interstellar ships by it. The map makes no effort to represent three-dimensional space, and the indication of coordinates in the z plane is poor compensation, so it gives the reader an utterly distorted view of our universe.

Yet, ever since Archchancellor Albrecht I came up with the basic design, not long before founding our Universal Archive of Human History, it has managed to remain a popular cultural artifact. Often updated, not always truthfully, it remains a bestseller in bookstores all over. As a huge fresco painted over the main hall of the Archive’s refectory, it never fails to draw up the eyes of tourists until their necks hurt, making it the pride and joy of our order’s ancient home. Yes, the map has no use, but it kindles true awe in the heart of everyone who sees it. All other projections fail to enrapture the soul as it does, accurate as they might be.

It promises answers for those who await a ship to come into dock at the orbital caravanserai, loaded with its precious cargo of perfumes and silks, not to mention invaluable terraforming equipment, newly engineered seeds, frozen embryos, machine- animas, and colonists. However vaguely, the map gives people the means to follow the progress of the vessel carrying word of a son who went away looking for fortune. It tracks the whereabouts of the many void-sailors who once fell into the hearts of landlubbers, with charm and wild stories, and who promised to come back after the twenty, fifty or even after the hundred Sol-years that their journeys might take them. It’s impossible to conceive how long it takes for things, people, and even information to travel between stars, but the map puts it all in a more human scale, even if it makes a lie of itself in the process.

Designed to fit exactly onto a standard sheet of paper, it mainly centers on the stars of the Hub Circuit, the nine systems connecting the paradise suns, the g-class, main-sequence stars that host the worlds most hospitable to life: Virginis, Pavonis, Hydri, Böot, and those beyond, the Herculis triplet, and Arae. Even more g-class stars are within reasonable reach, like Draper and Cordoba, accessible now that Durchmusterung, the steppingstone, has been sufficiently terraformed and colonized. Hanging on the branch that goes off from Ophiuchi Distans, the mysterious λ Serpentis is rumored to host one of the most beautiful planets ever found, though the Sagittarius Company, ever putting shareholder interest above all else, keeps a shroud of silence around the star without offering any explanation for it.

By contrast, the nine worlds of the Circuit are not so lush—indeed, except for Çierúsa and Guniibuu, they are often hostile to Terran life, yet their relative closeness to one another, on average at a distance of 5.5 lightyears, makes them an ideal nexus between the more habitable systems. Without the establishment of the Circuit, humanity would be scattered across distances too vast to traverse safely. At the center of it all, the Honorable Sagittarius Colonization Company has kept its headquarters at Höfa for over ten thousand years, and Gran Glisa, host to our order’s Archive, is so strategically placed that it has become the homeport of some of the most important shipping houses, even with a tidally locked planet and a star prone to violent outbursts of radiation. Understanding the Circuit means understanding how our human worlds are woven into the fabric of an interstellar civilization.

And the idea of a coherent human civilization this side of Sol is perfectly expressed in the map. That’s why the Imago Mundorum appears in the primers of children and college students alike, there to support the claims we historians make about the distant origin of our species, though Terra-the-Cradle is in fact beyond the page’s edge, to the left. The map is found in novels about love and strife elsewhere, in encyclopedias, and in any place where there’s a need to picture our human worlds at a glance. Even the great shipping houses use it as a handy tool for explaining to prospective passengers what route they will take from here to there and back. The merchant princes trace it with scrawny fingers to show the road their cargo has traveled from lightyears away, thus justifying the exorbitant fees the houses charge for their services.

A rich socialite will dress only in gowns of Comae Berenican silk of the most vivid pink, cyan, and silver. A poor, destitute family will cling on to a cup of carved diamond from Herculis, one last heirloom they haven’t dared to sell. Shareholders of the Company, thousands of years old, will fix events in their overtaxed memories with a drop of perfume, made from flowers grown under the orange sun of Çierúsa. A respectable grandparent will get a twinkle in the eye when struck by a memory of youthful excess and the splash of Guniibuunian brandy that was its height. All will look at the map and say to themselves: “this precious thing I hold in my hands came from there, so far, so long ago.”

Many a young boy or girl has showed up at the spaceport’s gate, asking to be let through so they can go up on a rocket and then out on a ship with many roaring antimatter engines, all burning as bright as Sol does in legend. They dream of 0.5 or 0.6 lightspeed, and the more ambitious kids will want to go on a fast post-runner, at 0.8 c. A copy of the map can always be found in their pockets, the seed of their dreams.

There are, of course, versions for all tastes and purses. Basic, functional prints for quick consultation in textbooks; streamlined copies for the quarters of high-ranking officers of the Sagittarius Company, who lose their good health over the nightmare of logistics that their terraformation projects entail. Powerful businesspeople have it engraved on their desks, with rubies and yellow sapphires to show suns, the names engraved with pearl, routes inlayed in gold and the background with lapis lazuli. It can be found as a splendidly decorated illumination, hand painted for the refined collector, or sometimes with dreadfully scary monsters drawn in the spaces between stars, in books for children and games of adventure. Those made for device-screens are normally programed to show additional information when the user selects this or that feature, but most people feel that this takes away from the romance of the map; it lessens that feeling of awe that overtakes those who stare at the paper for hours and hours, resting chin on hands, maybe sipping cocoa while fantasies run wild.

Perhaps you have stared at the Imago Mundorum and wondered, maybe you have thought about visiting some of these worlds or even about completing the Grand Tour around the Circuit.

You surely have no use for such a map, but it holds a dream.

~

Bio:

Arturo Sierra lives in Santiago, Chile, quite happily. So far he has lead a completely uninteresting life, and, with any luck, it will stay that way.

Philosophy Note:

It seems that the first thing a fantasy author does, to get the juices flowing, is draw a map. It really is a good place to start, as one’s imagination naturally starts to run wild as it sees shores, mountains, and forests pour out from a fanciful pen. Space opera doesn’t have that luxury, not if it aims at a minimum of real-world science, instead of—as otherwise is perfectly legitimate—going full Star Wars and treating the Galaxy as if it were a flat continent with neatly drawn borders, places of interest, and regions of avoidance here and there. The closest thing to a realistic interstellar map I have seen is a rather paltry one for Alastair Reynold’s Revelation Space, which makes one squint rather than imagine new adventures. 2D maps mostly end up being too abstract, 3D ones are impossible to read, for the most part. I wanted to get around some of those issues, making the map as realistic as possible while still allowing my imagination to feel tickled.
What’s presented here is an entirely accurate map of near-Sol space, up to more-or-less 8 parsecs pointing from Earth towards Sagittarius at the center of our Milky Way. The stellar coordinates, the stellar classification, and the distances between stars are real, though some convenient rounding-up has been applied here and there. Stars with proper names, such as Guniibuu and ε Indi, have kept them, but stars with only a catalogue-number for a name have been baptized with something a bit more stimulating. Some of these stars are known to host planets in the habitable zone, but I’ve not included anything about that.
This map would not be possible without the wonderful resources made available for free by Winchell D. Chung, creator of one of the last truly awesome places on the internet, the Atomic Rockets site, as well as the data catalogued in the Internet Stellar Database, curated by Roger M. Wilcox. Not to mention the Hipparcos and Gaia missions.

Fiction

The Utopian’s Edict, Or: Ignorantia Juris

by Zachary Reger

Upon the thud of the Grand Speaker’s gavel, the Galactic Assembly declared Edict No. 73946 third read and finally passed.

As per procedure, the Essence of the Edict was ritually ensconced. The record captured the precise legal intent of the Assembly, as collective, at the exact nanosecond of enactment, transmuting such perfect knowledge into clear, digital code. The code, the Essence of the law, lay within the record. Each Edict had a record, and each record had an Edict.

Upon the conclusion of the legislative session, the Assembly adjourned sine die. Each Edict, as so in record, was transported, by pneumatic tube, to the Galactic Legal Archives. There, the Edict would become a universal public record. Each universal public record would be further transmitted, instantly upon engrossment in the Archives, to the Visicastor of every Galactic citizen. The Visicastor, required of all citizens by Edict of the Assembly, imparted perfect knowledge of its registered contents onto the mind of its bearer.

Thus, the lawgivers had reclaimed and expanded their primacy within the separation of powers. Gone were the cumbersome statutory codes of ancient regimes, subject to manipulation by crafty tribunals, executives, and private entities. Gone were the legal professionals who exacted high fees for the discharge of a public service—that is, imparting upon members of the public an expert knowledge of the law. Not a citizen of the Galactic community would exist without a perfect comprehension of the requirements of the law, as faultlessly captured by its lawfully elected enactors, and of whatever conduct in whatever place at whatever time would infringe its dictates.

In short, the art of law had been perfected.

#

There was no chime as Edict No. 73946 arrived in the Visicastor of each Galactic citizen. There was no notice, no blaring disruption of a citizen’s daily activities. At one moment, a citizen simply had no knowledge of the Edict. The next moment, they did.

Edward was one such Galactic citizen, a peace officer, by trade. Many centuries ago, peace officers had been the first required to maintain an active Visicastor while on the job. Eventually, this requirement expanded to all hours, both on duty and off. Then, to every government official, high and low. At last, to every citizen—each themselves a part of the democratic community and responsible for its upkeep.

This afternoon, Edward was off duty, running errands on the town. That town, a minor village of a backwater province of an outer-rim planet, had a single bank. The First Central Bank, it was aptly named. As Edward required a certified note for a downpayment on a vacation home, he decided to visit First Central to check one more item off his list of chores.

But the day would hold more for Edward than just a few errands. As Edward approached the teller’s booth, a trio of hooded figures crashed through the front door and into the small, gilded lobby. With one blast of a phazer into the air, the robbers had a half-dozen civilians on the ground. Two of the three corralled the citizens into respective corners. The third approached the teller. With a curt gesture, the needed information was exchanged: everything you have into the bag, or else.

Edward, neither fully noble nor ignoble, but possessing, at times, a sense of public duty if not exaggerated self-importance, sprang into action. With a flick of his hand, Edward’s phazer found its targets. Set to stun—a default long required of peace officers by Edict of the Assembly, on duty or off—the phazer incapacitated one then the other of the robbers who held the civilians under threat. As Edward turned to face the third robber, still at the teller’s booth, bag in hand, a string of events happened in quick succession.

First, the third robber grabbed the teller from behind the booth, pulling her by the scruff of the neck out into the lobby. The robber pulled his own phazer on the teller, holding her defenseless at gunpoint. “You let us go,” the robber demanded, “or she gets it.”

Second, legal knowledge flooded Edward’s senses. As a peace officer, Edward not infrequently found himself in such sticky situations, and was accustomed to the passive recall of embedded legal knowledge made possible by the Visicastor. Edward immediately understood that the robber had credibly threatened deadly force against an unarmed bystander. As a result, the law authorized, yet did not require, proportionate deadly force to be used against the attacker if doing so had a “probable chance” of thwarting the threatened attack, but not if doing so had a better than even chance of directly or indirectly inflicting grievous harm upon the victim.

Edward knew, instantaneously, that the concept of direct or indirect infliction of grievous harm, in the combined intent of the enactors, included harm inflicted either directly from Edward’s own firing of his phazer, which could miss and hit the victim, or indirectly from the robber’s firing of his phazer, which could be triggered by Edward’s own firing. As Edward’s phazer was set to stun, his only legal concern would be the latter—an indirect infliction of grievous harm.

But Edward also knew, instantaneously, that this general legal landscape had been complicated by the passage of Edict No. 73946, enacted mere hours ago. The Edict required that a peace officer attempt a negotiation before firing upon a hostage taker, so long as it was not “fairly probable” that the attacker may injure his hostage during such attempt. The enactors had been concerned with a few high-profile cases of gun-toting “heroes,” knowing with certainty that the law stood on their side, being much too quick to pull the trigger when still nonviolent alternatives remained.

Third, the third robber’s own Visicastor informed him of the various penalties for the offenses he had already committed or could still commit in the ongoing altercation. For attempted armed robbery, the robber faced a Class D Galactic felony, punishable by up to four years’ imprisonment. Were the robbery successful, the Class D Galactic felony would become a Class C Galactic felony, punishable by up to ten years’ imprisonment. As one of three, the robber also faced a probable conspiracy charge, which would make his co-conspirators liable for all offenses committed in furtherance of the conspiracy, whether they had personally committed such offenses or not.

The third robber knew, instantaneously, that murder in the commission of an armed robbery carried a higher sentence than those offenses he had already committed—twenty years’ imprisonment, a Class B Galactic felony. The third robber also knew that the grievous injury of a peace officer in the line of duty carried an even greater sentence still—life imprisonment, a Class A Galactic felony. The third robber understood that, as a result of his conspiracy, he would be liable for offenses committed by any of his co-conspirators in furtherance of the conspiracy, just as his co-conspirators would be liable for such offenses he himself committed. And per the enactors’ intent, an off duty peace officer reacting to an ongoing offense was “in the line of duty.”

Fourth, the first robber, who, unbeknownst to Edward but known full well by her co-conspirators, had been wearing a protective vest that blunted the stunning effects of Edward’s phazer, stumbled to her feet in a bloody rage, raising her phazer directly in Edward’s direction.

Fifth, the first robber, informed by her Visicastor, knew instantly of the dangerous mistake she had made. Not only had she, in her rage, nearly fired upon a peace officer and incurred a lifetime behind bars, she had won the wrath of her co-conspirator. The best interests of that co-conspirator would be to fire upon her first, thus preventing her from harming the peace officer and triggering a sentence of life imprisonment for all three co-conspirators. And so the first robber’s own interests would, in turn, be best served by doing whatever was necessary to forestall the friendly fire of her co-conspirator—up to and including firing the first shot.

Sixth, the second robber, similarly armored, stumbled to his feet. His thought process was much the same as that of the first robber. Yet he, also Visicastor-informed of the laws in play, understood the interests of the third robber in firing upon the first, as well as the interests of the first in forestalling such attack. Murder of a co-conspirator would subject them all (or at least those who survived) to a Class C Galactic felony—much preferable to the Class A Galactic felony of grievously injuring a peace officer, but still worse than the Class D felony of attempted armed robbery of which all were currently liable. The second robber also understood that the peace officer would hesitate, in order to attempt a hostage negotiation in compliance with Edict No. 73946, and therefore not immediately fire upon the hostage-taking third robber.

Thus, the psycho-legal standoff reached its logical terminus. Edward hesitated, lowering his weapon. “Put the phazer down and let’s talk this through,” he said.

The first robber pulled her phazer on the third. “Drop the phazer, it’s over,” she said. “We can’t win this thing.”

Edward spun around, raising his weapon to face the first robber. “Hold your fire!” Edward yelled. “There’s no need to do anything rash.”

The third robber caught Edward off-guard, raising his phazer in the officer’s direction. “You shoot me, and we all go behind bars,” he said. “I’d think twice before pulling that trigger.”

The second robber raised his phazer toward the third. “Don’t you do it,” he said. “You shoot him, and I’ll have nothing to lose.”

“And nothing to gain,” replied the third.

The teller, head spinning, took this opportunity to flee from the third robber’s grasp. She pushed hard against his chest, nearly toppling him over. The teller ran straight through the lobby and out the front entrance of the bank. She did not look back. Already, her communicator was in hand, and she had the local Peace Department on the line.

In no time at all, a dozen officers (nearly half of those currently on duty) descended on the scene. With overwhelming force, they broke through the front doors of First Central Bank, surrounding the three robbers and an encumbered Edward. Phazers dropped, and handcuffs flew. Bystanders were ushered from the premises. Three detained perpetrators were led to awaiting patrol cars. Edward was offered medical attention, then interviewed by his captain about the precise sequence of events (“What sequence?” Edward was heard to reply). An on-scene detective, assisted by the teller, obtained and logged the relevant security footage. The dropped weapons were gathered as evidence. The bank closed for the rest of the evening. A crowd gathered outside, but dissipated once it was clear that any excitement had passed.

Life went back to normal, and the “Central Bank Incident,” briefly the talk of the town, became a footnote of local history.

A week later, three defendants appeared before a Galactic judge in the local district court. Trials commenced, jurors deliberated, and three co-conspirators were convicted on three counts of attempted armed robbery. No other charges were brought. Each defendant was sentenced to four years’ imprisonment.

#

Long forgotten, an archival account of the incident piqued the interest of a junior staffer for a newly elected representative in the Galactic Assembly. When Edict No. 73946 came up for reauthorization before the Committee on the Judiciary, the representative argued that such Edict had once prevented a bloody shootout, and thus made for good law. An opposing representative demurred, arguing that the “Central Bank Incident” represented nothing more than a peculiar story. Edict No. 73946 had little to do with the resolution, and could not be expected to produce such bloodless results in future incidents.

“As they say, ‘exceptional cases make bad law,’” the representative intoned, concluding the discussion. In the end, the Committee on the Judiciary deadlocked, and the reauthorization was tabled.

~

Bio:

Zachary Reger is an attorney in Washington, D.C. He holds degrees in journalism, philosophy, and film studies from the University of Missouri, and a law degree from the University of Chicago. His legal scholarship explores the designs, purposes, and effects of political and legal institutions, and this story—exploring much the same themes—marks his short fiction debut.

Philosophy Note:

I am fascinated by the nature and role of legislation in a democratic society. This story asks what it would mean for citizens, both those sworn to uphold the law and those who wish to subvert it, to have perfect knowledge of all legislative enactments. How would such knowledge influence their behavior, for good or for ill? And is ignorance of the law (“ignorantia juris”) either curse or blessing?

Fiction

Swag Of Distant Earth

by Matt McHugh

The Journal of Cultural Xenology

Volume 4,236,957 – Issue 3 (Supplemental)

Analysis of Crypto-Marketing Symbology in the Pioneer 10 Advertisement for 2001: A Space Odyssey

SubLord Gormatu (Lead Author), Professor of Xenoglyphics, The Empress B.A.T. University; k]i[n+Xi(ah)vün-te’əl, Associate Professor of Adjacency, Institute of Dimensional Topology; Jeet Patel (Corresponding Author), Intern.

Mass Tariff Funder Statement: Grants provided by The Empress Beautiful and Terrifying, Foundation for Expansion Studies; and Viewers Like You.

Abstract

A gold-anodized plaque affixed to the artifact dubbed “Pioneer 10,” which was set adrift by a pre-quantspace society inhabiting the third planet of a mid-galactic star, is an advertisement for an audio-visual narrative entitled 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Introduction

Since the start of the Eighth Age of the Empress Beautiful and Terrifying (all praise and submission to Her horrific glory) our team of xenologists has focused on the cultural particulars of the inhabitants of a remote planet known in its most common local dialects as Earth, or more descriptively, Dirt Ball (地球). (NOTE: The inhabitants use many dialects and scripting systems, the study of which is a specialty of our team.)

Relatively recently, the planet’s dominant primate species has developed the technology to process visible light and acoustic waves for storage. This stored information is manipulated to produce narrative sequences known as moving pictures, or more commonly by the quaint diminutive “movies”—though again an alternate dialect offers a more technically illuminating moniker: electric shadows (电影).

Electric shadow movies are extremely popular on Dirt Ball. Fees charged for their viewing fuel entire sectors of the economy. The industry is highly competitive and, somewhat paradoxically, must invest heavily in marketing expenditures to recoup production costs. Physical signage with cryptic imagery, intended to suggest but not reveal details of the narrative’s storyline, is a common advertising strategy.

The electric shadow known as 2001: A Space Odyssey (Erratum: The numeric prefix refers to a time-keeping system, not—as previously thought—the number of discarded versions produced by its creator) is a speculation on what the natives might encounter beyond the gravitational field of their planet of origin. Since Pioneer 10 was designed to travel outside Dirt Ball’s gravity, placing advertising for 2001 upon it was an inspired marketing gimmick.

Materials and Methods

Access to the Quantspace Omniscope, enabled by the boundless largess of the Empress B.A.T. (oh, what ecstasy to behold Her magnificent oblivion!), was essential to our remote observational research. Also, the Homeomorphic Space Grapnel, on loan from the Institute of Dimensional Topology, allowed us to obtain the actual Pioneer 10 artifact for direct inspection. From there, our team of iconographers collaborated to decode the marketing message.

Finally, it must be mentioned that culling the archives of Dirt Ball provided enormous insight. A popular maxim among Empire xenologists is “No one understands undeveloped primitives like other undeveloped primitives” and to that end we acknowledge the contributions of the American Film Institute, Wikipedia, and reddit user pFloyd237.

Analysis

Analysis of the Pioneer 2001 advertisement begins in grid square [1A] with multiple circles extending to square [1K]. These represent the local star and planetary bodies (Dirt Ball itself is in [1E]). Their unnatural alignment, a common motif in 2001, plays to native superstition that planetary conjunctions herald momentous events.

The line extending from Dirt Ball to [2H] indicates the travel of the space vehicle in 2001 called Discovery, depicted as a parabolic communications antenna, known as the AE-35 unit, aimed toward Dirt Ball. Note Discovery passes between two planets. The ship’s stated destination in the 2001 moving picture was “Jupiter” [1G] while the scripted version said “Saturn” [H1]; this is obviously a compromise to appease the substantial ego needs of the respective version creators.

Turning now to the circular objects in [10C] and [10E]. These suggest the relationship between Discovery’s support vehicles, referred to as pods, and the singular eye of the sentient computing machine named Hal. Discovery’s primate crew believe the pod to be safe from Hal’s omnipresent awareness, but are proven incorrect when Hal assumes control of a pod to lethal effect. These linked symbols illustrate that the primates’ technologies have aligned against them.

On to the most conspicuous feature: the representation of the primates themselves in grid [9I] to [3M]. They are a sexually dimorphic species—highlighted with a striking lack of modesty in [6J] and [6L]—with the male obviously the more submissive as shown by the gesture of supplication in [8I]. Note the geometric arc-and-chord behind the male. This depicts a tension-based projectile launcher called a bow. The protagonist of the 2001 narrative is named as “Dave Bowman” so the symbolism here is rather blunt. For one more subtle, note the pair of right triangles with adjacent vertices in [7N]. Baffling at first, these become meaningful when rotated perpendicularly in conjunction with the bow: it is a boat with a wind-driven sail. Oriented vertically, the sailboat is aimed against the vector of gravity, the significance of which is revealed by delving into a defunct primate dialect where “astro” means star and “naut” refers to travel by boat. Dave Bowman is an astronaut, sailing to the stars. Very clever. (NOTE: Due to local moral conventions, Dave Bowman is never depicted in the electric shadow in a pristine uncovered state, except during a regression to infancy.)

Finally, to the most contextually significant images: the rectangle cornered in [9H] and the multiple radiants centered in [6D]. The rectangle is an object in 2001 called The Monolith (a defunct dialect for “single stone”). The Monolith is intended to be an artifact originating from an unknown civilization outside of Dirt Ball. It is described with a frontal proportion in the ratio of 4×9, although this two-dimensional depiction here is 3×9. This discrepancy is possibly due to the marketing department receiving incorrect information from the movie producers (a common occurrence in the electric shadow industry) or the marketing department simply being stupid (also common, see: Gormatu et al. “A Case Study in Xeno-Economic Fatuousness: The ‘New Coke’ Fiasco.” Seminars in Social Inferiority, sponsored by the Empress B.A.T. Academy of Inevitable Destiny).

Taken overall, 2001 is the story of the primates’ attempt to discover the civilization responsible for The Monolith. That quest is aided by an accidental excursion through a quantspace conduit—i.e., the figure centered in [6D]. Referred to as “The Stargate sequence,” the visual representation of a quantspace journey in 2001 is astoundingly accurate for a society yet to achieve one. This leads to the disturbing notion that a rogue element from the Fleet of the Empress Beautiful and Terrifying (may all who defy her exquisiteness burn in agony before her pediments) has traversed to Dirt Ball and communed with the locals for some treasonous purpose.

Conclusion

Given that 2001: A Space Odyssey reveals that a primitive society has speculated on the existence of an advanced trans-galactic civilization with worrisome precision—and then chosen to boldly go and advertise that speculation via an extra-gravitic projectile—our team proposes immediate invasion and subjugation of the planet Dirt Ball. Let it be noted that SubLord Gormatu is prepared to assume the heavy burden of full Lordship in service to the insatiably righteous hunger of the Empress Beautiful and Terrifying, and is willing to accept the lowly governorship of Dirt Ball. In doing so, Lord Gormatu will be ideally positioned to plunder Dirt Ball’s archives, transmitting via Omiscope uncorrupted versions of the electric shadows most favored by the Empress (Her radiance, Her ruthlessness, matched only by Her sophistication) including the “Disney Princess” series and the complete oeuvre of Jackie Chan (成龍), especially the early-career efforts when he was still “yummy buff” (with great apology for quoting the candid ejaculation of the Empress in Her aesthetic reverie). This analysis and conclusion is hereby submitted with prostrate humility for the peerless review of the minions of the Empress B.A.T for the undeserved honor of basking for a fleeting moment in the all-consuming glow of Her unrivalled and devastatingly gorgeous wisdom.

~

Bio:

Matt McHugh was born in suburban Pennsylvania, attended LaSalle University in Philadelphia, and after a few years as a Manhattanite, currently calls New Jersey home. Website: mattmchugh.com

Fiction/Subscription Stories

Anacyclosis by Brian Niemeier

ANACYCLOSIS

Brian Niemeier

Kob Agur strained to see behind the red circle that gamboled upon his screen’s starry backdrop, but distance obscured his target. He eased his magnaframe forward with the left control stick and kept the red dot centered with fine movements of the right. Sweat moistened the palms of his gloves. Kob’s computer, in all its DNA-encoded wisdom, warned him not to approach the Ynzu, but he wanted a clear shot.

Kob’s screen showed a static image of space. The red circle at its center beckoned him, but only the numbers measuring his range to the target gave any indication of movement. The sluggishness of the numbers’ regress made him grit his teeth.

Everybody dies, Kob reminded himself. Better make it memorable.

Kob opened the throttle. The stars remained fixed, but the string of numbers rolled back with blurring speed. A green, vaguely rhomboid shape appeared. Kob’s thumb hovered over the switch that would loose a spray of tungsten slugs from the linear gun in his magnaframe’s hand.

The Ynzu machine suddenly grew from a green blotch to a behemoth that filled Kob’s screen. The cockpit shook as the enemy latched onto his magnaframe.

I never got off a shot! Blaring alarms and synthetic voices invaded Kob’s reeling mind. Armor compromised. Structural integrity failing. Reactor breached.

The cacophony ceased. Kob removed his helmet and stared at his sandy-haired, grey-eyed reflection in the black screen.

A pneumatic hiss admitted glaring light into the cockpit. “Did I interrupt something?” asked a feminine voice.

Kob turned to see LTJG Rafu Shida leaning in the simulator door. “Only my unsung death,” said Kob.

Shida’s lip twisted in a smile. Her lithe fingers brushed brown hair out of her face. “There’s a polite social gathering in the wardroom. I thought you’d like to escort me.”

Kob unfastened his harness and pivoted toward Shida. “Why would you think that?”

Shida’s expression became flat. “Just a passing fancy,” she said. “Though you never seem to—you know—relax.”

Kob brushed Shida aside and descended the single step to the deck below. The room was a long, harshly lit box lined with doors giving on simulators. The scent of electronics filled the sterile air of the magnaframe carrier UCS Newcastle-upon-Tyne.

“I’ll relax when I’m dead,” said Kob.

“Typical Martian,” Shida said. “Delaying gratification till it’s too late.”

Kob ignored the slur—he shared his countrymen’s pride as well as their austerity—and strode toward the exit. The click of Shida’s boot heels followed his. “Indulge all the pleasures you want,” he told her. “Or join a convent. It won’t matter when you’re dead.”

Kob reached the lifts first, but Shida lunged past him and hit the up button. “If everything’s pointless,” she said, “why bother doing anything at all?”

“Not everything is pointless,” said Kob. “Just most things.” He pressed the down button.

Shida folded her arms. “Care to enlighten me?”

The up arrow glowed green above the middle lift, which opened on a car crowded with uniformed passengers. The door on the right opened, and Kob stepped into the empty lift. Though his car was going down, Shida only hesitated briefly before joining him.

Kob selected the hangar deck from the menu screen. He felt a momentary sinking feeling as the car moved perpendicular to the ship’s artificial gravity plane.

Peace reigned for several moments before Shida broke it. “Not talking?”

“About what?”

Shida gave an exasperated grunt. “About what’s worth doing if we just end up dead.”

“Does the name John Fitzgerald Kennedy mean anything to you?” asked Kob.

Shida’s brow furrowed. “Wasn’t he a Holy Roman Emperor? No, wait! He was an American president before the Collapse.”

Kob still faced the screen. He was glad Shida couldn’t see his grin. “Got it on the second try,” he said. “For extra points, can you tell me about his administration’s policies?”

The hum of magnetic actuators was the only sound until Shida said, “I know he was assassinated.”

“There’s your answer,” said Kob.

“You’re not making any sense!” Shida complained.

Kob turned. An indignant frown traversed Shida’s face. “You knew the name of a political figure who’s been dead for centuries,” he said. “I doubt you could name another US president besides Washington or FDR. Or Lincoln—for the same reason as Kennedy.”

“What do you mean, ‘the same reason’?”

“They were both murdered. And people obsessed over Kennedy’s death for years.”

Shida sighed. “So, only our memories live on after we die, and people remember interesting deaths.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Kob.

The lift glided to a stop, and the doors slid open. Kob ventured out into a vast expanse that seemed worlds apart from the clean hallways abaft and above. The air tasted—and even felt—oily. The din of men and machines at work joined in martial harmony.

Kob marched across a concrete floor bedecked with lane demarcations and warnings in bold colors. Immense storage blocks towered on all sides, making Kob feel like a trespasser in a city of giants.

Keep Reading

Fact & Opinion

Of Speaking With Forked Tongues

Religious Traditions and Speculative Fiction on Hypocrisy

by Manjula Menon

One of the most admired novels of all time is George Orwell’s 1945 work of speculative fiction, Animal Farm. The novel describes a revolt by farm animals, led by pigs, against their loutish human masters. After the animals win control of “Manor Farm”, the pigs swiftly install themselves as the new overseers. The virtuous slogans and uplifting songs that had originally been created in earnest soon become tools of control, as the pigs reveal themselves to be even more cruel than the humans they’d replaced. The ruling pigs, it turned out, had cynically “performed” virtue to seize power. Thus, the pigs were hypocrites.^[1]

Influential works of speculative fiction are well known to take philosophical stands, many of which can be encapsulated by the idiom ‘All is fair in love and war’. Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game, to give just one example,explores how a libertarian leaning society responds to war. Animal Farm, on the other hand, is usually described as a satirical allegory of the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, with the novel’s main characters representing historical counterparts. However, given that immediately prior to writing Animal Farm, Orwell’s creative energies had been focused on writing propaganda radio pieces for the BBC for broadcast to Indian audiences, it should at least be considered that “Manor Farm” represents the British Dominion, the farm animals stand in for colonial subjects, and the human farmers symbolize the Imperial administration.

Orwell’s connections to British India are several. Born in Bengal as Eric Blair in 1903, he chose George Orwell as his literary pseudonym later in life. After a childhood back in England, at the age of 19, Orwell applied for and obtained a position with the Indian Imperial Police, then returned to British India, working as a police officer for five years in Mandalay, Burma. Orwell wrote a novel based on his time there, Burmese Days, a brutal, semi-autobiographical tale of cruelty, venality and corruption that is at least as dark as his later, more famous works. But the novel is also about alienation, the leaden, angry loneliness of a sensitive young man, adrift in a world whose warp and weft are pettiness and hypocrisy.^[2]From Burmese Days and other works drawn from his time in Burma, it appears that Orwell was ambivalent about the British imperial project. He nevertheless produced propaganda for the BBC during the second world war, after which he targeted the new enemy: communism. Animal Farm can be read as a warning to subjects of the British empire, both in the colonies and at home, not to fall for the machinations of the virtue-signaling hypocrites who only seek power for themselves.

The etymology of the word “hypocrite” reveals a Greek origin: hypókrisis, “playing a part on the stage, pretending to be something one is not”. In the modern era, the word is used more narrowly, to describe a person who outwardly pretends to be pious or virtuous to further their own material interests. Prior to his wartime propaganda work, Orwell’s talents had been focused on writing semi-autobiographical pieces, but post war, while the style, tone and mood of the works are similar, he became focused on showing how cynical actors use hypocrisy to obtain and retain political power. His later works are masterpieces in using speculative fiction to critique specific political philosophies. In his 1948 novel, 1984, for example, a monstrous regime ruthlessly monitors and controls every action, while mandating the mouthing of virtuous slogans. 1984 is a terrifying tale of grinding loneliness and crushing dread, set against a background of cruelty, tyranny and, indeed, hypocrisy.^[3]

Whether it is by describing the pigs who use the other animals to achieve power in Animal Farm, or by detailing how the leaders of 1984 subdue the frightened masses with vacuous slogans and platitudes, Orwell’s speculative fiction aims to persuade. Orwell despises hypocrites who ruthlessly pursue power by pretending to be virtuous, and after reading his superbly executed “show-don’t-tell” works of speculative fiction, the reader feels the same way. Orwell achieves this not by describing mere self-aggrandizement; it is the rare person who has not even slightly embellished, by omission or exaggeration, their own achievements. Neither is he describing outright deceit or fraud. Rather, it is naked self-interest cloaked in showy virtuosness, the hallmark of hypocrisy, that he is aiming for.

The modern notion of a hypocrite as that of a person with societal power and influence, one who publicly decries and penalizes others for not demonstrating sufficient piety, all the while doing whatever they wish in private, is at least in theory universally known and reviled. But where did this idea of a hypocrite originate? And is there something particular about the current moment that might warrant returning the idea to prominence?

In Part II of The Nicomachean Ethics, the 4^th century Greek philosopher Aristotle made a distinction between universally held ethical principles that do not vary across cultures and customs, versus ethical principles based on local convention: “… the rules of justice ordained not by nature but by man are not the same in all places, since forms of government are not the same …”, ^[4]going on to list adultery, theft and murder as behaviors that would always be considered wrong.^[5] To Aristotle’s list of universally despised behaviors, I will add a disdain for those who signal, but do not practice, virtue. One of the reasons that Orwell’s novels continue to be so popular is that nobody has ever liked a hypocrite.

That the revulsion for hypocrites is not merely a modern phenomenon can be verified by reading the works of the world’s major religions, where remarks against false piety can be found. The original works have spawned several English translations each, so for the purposes of this essay, I have drawn on ones that are easily accessible and widely known.

The Buddhist text Dhammapada is a compilation of the sayings of the Buddha, estimated to have lived 6^th or 5^th BC in modern-day Nepal and India. The Dhammapada asks in Chapter 26, 394: What is the use of platted hair, O fool! what of the raiment of goat-skins? Within thee there is ravening, but the outside thou makest clean.^[6]

Likewise, the Hindu text, the Bhagavad Gita, estimated to be anywhere from 7000 – 400 BCE, India, offers remarks against false piety.

“Led astray by many thoughts, entangled in a net of delusion, addicted to the gratification of desires—they fall into an impure hell.

Self-conceited, obstinate, full of intoxication and pride of wealth—they perform merely nominal sacrifices with deceit and without following proper rules.” ^[7]

The Jewish Pentateuch hails from around 1500 – 400 BCE and arose in the area of modern-day Israel. The Pentateuch, in Jeremiah, 7, 9-10, also invokes the idea of hypocrisy as when the Lord asks of his people:

9 How will ye steal, murder, and commit adultery, and swear falsely, and burn incense unto Ba’al, and walk after other gods of which ye have had no knowledge;

10 And (then) come and stand before my presence in this house, which is called by my name, and say, ” We are delivered;” in order to do all these abominations?^[8]

The books of the other Abrahamic religions are more direct. The Islamic holy book, the Quran, from the 7^th century AD, modern-day Saudi Arabia, has an entire section, the 63rd sura, the title of which is usually translated into English as “The Hypocrites”. Verse 4 of this sura describes hypocrites thus:

“4 When you see them, their outward appearance pleases you; when they speak, you listen to what they say. But they are like propped-up timbers—they think every cry they hear is against them—and they are the enemy. Beware of them. May God confound them! How devious they are!”^[9]

Among all the major religions, however, it is the Gospels of the Christian Bible, written in 1^st century AD, modern day Syria, Turkey and Israel, that have most to say about hypocrites and hypocrisy. Given the Bible’s enormous influence on global culture, this is likely where the modern sense of the word is derived from. Hypocrites are described in the Gospels as the powerful elites of the day, who penalized others for not following the laws and rules that they did not follow themselves. As in the modern sense, the biblical notion of hypocrisy involves the thicker notion of virtue-signaling elites. Take for example, Matthew Chapter 23 in which Jesus warns against hypocrites:

Matthew 23, 3: “All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not.” ^[10]

Matthew 23, 28: “Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.”^[10]

Distrust of institutions is widespread and growing as evidenced by the many political upheavals observed around the world. One modern-day institution that stands accused of hypocrisy is the global news media. Television news has a similar feel the world over, featuring strident brass and percussion lead-ins, “breaking news” chyrons playing in an endless loop, and news segments presented by powdered and coiffed anchors who subtly move their heads in singular ways as they read from their teleprompters. Modern media professionals are known to be fond of “gotcha” soundbites, where they attempt to draw a controversial statement from an interviewee. This scenario was described in Mark 12, 13-17, where an unsuccessful attempt is made for a “gotcha” from Jesus:

“13 [And] they send unto him certain of the Pharisees and of the Herodians, to catch him in his words.

14 And when they were come, they say unto him, Master, we know that thou art true, and carest for no man: for thou regardest not the person of men, but teachest the way of God in truth: Is it lawful to give tribute to Cesar, or not?

15 Shall we give, or shall we not give? But he, knowing their hypocrisy, said unto them, Why tempt ye me? bring me a penny, that I may see it.

16 And they brought it. And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription? And they said unto him, Cesar’s.

17 And Jesus answering said unto them, Render to Cesar the things that are Cesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s. And they marvelled at him.” ^[11]

What has remained true through the ages appears to be a yearning for truth, for leaders who do what they say, and practice what they preach. Modern politics, however, is rife with people who make rules for others that they themselves do not follow. This type of person is so ubiquitous in the profession, that a politician who simply refrains from performative moralizing has already distinguished themselves from the others. It is not hard to recall politicians who despite observable flaws have become enormously popular merely by not engaging in performative moralizing and therefore coming across as endearingly authentic. Leaders who speak authentically, warts and all, are increasingly seen as more trustworthy of delivering what they say they will, as opposed to those who say whatever virtuous thing they have been told to say for the cameras.

The hypocrisy of societies could be seen as the hypocrisy of individuals, writ large. In addition to the previously mentioned Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game, other enormously popular works of contemporary speculative fiction describe societies who strive for fairness at home while acting without mercy in times of war. Consider Phlebas by Iain Banks and Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein both feature societies who strive for libertarian ideals while engaging in pitiless wars. In Iain Bank’s Culture series, for example, the Culture, a society presented as a post-scarcity, hedonistic utopia for those within it, is nevertheless relentless in pursuing its military and political aims. In the first novel in the series, Consider Phlebas, the Culture, led by the godlike artificial intelligences known as ‘minds’, goes to war against the alien Iridans, who in turn fight on behalf of their religion.

Likewise, the “citizens” and “civilians” who make up Robert A. Heinlein’s Terran Foundation in Starship Troopers are presented as being part of an egalitarian representative democracy, albeit one where the right to vote as a citizen is earned not by birthright, but after completing service to the state, usually in the military. Like the Culture, the Terran Federation is ruthless in pursuit of military victory.

A major feature of both works is the description of the technical wizardry used to prosecute wars. The Culture and Terrans appear to aim for a better, fairer world, but they are also heavily invested in battle technology and military assets. The contrast might strike one as hypocritical, but both works present a strawman of a scenario, viz the threats faced by these already formidably armed societies are described as existential and what are mighty militaries for if not to defend against such threats?

The Culture wields power not merely by military might, but also through a cadre of diplomats and spies who work clandestinely and ruthlessly behind the scenes to ensure victory. Unlike the Terrans, who are front and center about their military’s primal importance, the Culture’s denizens appear to be mostly disinterested in the battles being waged on their behalf. If a charge of hypocrisy can be brought, it is perhaps against those secretive agents of the Culture who justify any means towards their end, in the name of their ideals.

Whether in the sacred texts of world religions or in the pages of popular works of speculative fiction, whether focused on actions of individuals or those of societies, the theme of hypocrisy continues to resonate through time and across the world.

~

^[1] George Orwell, Animal Farm

^[2] George Orwell, Burmese Days

^[3] George Orwell, 1984

^[4] Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics

^[5] Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics

^[6] Dhammapada, Chapter XXVI

^[7] Bhagavadgita, Chapter XVI

^[8] The Pentateuch, Chapter VII

^[9] The Quran, Sura 63

^[10] The Bible, Matthew 23

^[11] The Bible, Mark 12

Bio:

Manjula Menon once worked as an electrical engineer in Brussels, which makes publishing essays in Sci Phi Journal her “homecoming of sorts”. A list of her other publications can be found at www.manjulamenon.com

Fact & Opinion

Why Warhammer Matters

by Dr Mike Ryder, Dr Thomas Arnold & Michael Dunn

We don’t know about you, but we think Warhammer is cool.

Games Workshop (GW) – the company behind Warhammer and its futuristic counterpart Warhammer 40k – is now worth in the region of £3.56 billion. The global phenomenon has grown from a small operation working out of a flat in London to become the world’s leading miniature maker, and an outstanding publisher of science fiction and fantasy, with many of its authors featuring in the New York Times list of bestsellers. In more recent years it has also licensed a whole range of popular video games including the Dawn of War series, Vermintide, and the very well received Space Marine II. GW has even signed a deal with Amazon to produce a TV series based on its IP.

And yet, for some reason, it is still an area hugely under-represented within the world of academia. Whether this is because the subject is still considered ‘niche’, or even just due to intellectual snobbishness, it is hard to say. Either way, it is something that we were keen to address. This is why in early 2024 we decided to join forces to host Warhammer Conference: the world’s first academic conference dedicated to all things Warhammer. Our aim was to test the water to see what (if any) demand there might be for ‘Academic Warhammer’, and what forms such an area of study might take.

The response was absolutely phenomenal.

As the first event of its kind, we would have been more than happy with a dozen academics sat chatting about their favourite hobby for a few days. As it turned out, we were delighted to host almost 60 talks in total, together with keynote presentations from Black Library author Victoria Hayward and none other than John Blanche, arguably one of the most influential science fiction / fantasy (SFF) artists alive today. We really couldn’t have asked for more!

Our joy at the overwhelming response was only intensified by the sheer diversity of talks presented at this inaugural event. We heard discourses by historians, physicists, statisticians, philosophers and religious studies scholars looking at various aspects of the 40k universe and what it tells us about our modern world. We also had a wonderful representation from the game studies community, with some presentations on Warhammer as a form of play, and miniaturing-as-mindfulness.

Perhaps most surprising of all, we also had talks from colleagues sharing how they have used Warhammer as a way to help treat military veterans with PTSD. We even had a talk from a former prisoner talking about how he used Warhammer as a way to cope with the trauma of incarceration, and to aid his rehabilitation.

And this was just the tip of the iceberg.

So why Warhammer? Why now?

As an organising committee (together with our colleague Philipp Schroegel) we have all been long-time fans of Warhammer, including its Fantasy, Age of Sigmar, and, of course, 40k incarnations. While we all work in slightly different areas, we have a shared interest in the philosophical underpinnings of the various Warhammer universes, and how they can be used as a sandbox for complex real-world philosophical problems.

Reading Warhammer has been a great pleasure of ours for many years. Given that philosophy, and indeed, so much of academia more broadly, is all about reflection, we had each started to reflect on this particular proclivity, together with our friends who had also enjoyed it. Two of the key questions that really started us on this academic journey were:

What ideas make Warhammer so appealing (or troubling)?
What ideas make Warhammer and Warhammer 40k such interesting worlds?

These questions led us towards several fascinating areas of enquiry regarding the underlying anthropological, political and metaphysical assumptions of the narrative; theological questions about the status of deities; psychoanalytic questions about the nature of demons and possession; and also literary questions about excess and hyperbole (which abound in the literature), as well as questions crossing game studies and narratology, such as how something can be a narrative and a setting at the same time.

Essentially, we wanted to know how much philosophy, political science, and science and technology studies could we get out of this hobby of ours? And what would that give us? Turns out, quite a lot. It is sometimes said that thinking about the things you enjoy takes the fun out of the activity. In this case, the opposite is true: bringing a whole range of academic perspectives to bear on it makes the world of Warhammer and 40K even more interesting, simply because these specialised perspectives allow us to discover even more about the fictional universe(s).

Building on these initial questions, we also believe that we can try to understand ourselves and our life-world better through Warhammer. If we follow Wilhelm Dilthey’s characterisation of the humanities as engaged in understanding cultural phenomena or practices, creative products and through them, ourselves, then the academic approach to Warhammer is a classic case of humanities scholarship and research – even extended into new fields like game studies or science and technology studies.

While this might sound very strange given the fact that Warhammer is essentially an overblown background of a game involving toy soldiers, as academics we have always used reflection-on and analysis-of cultural products and practices to understand ourselves better. In fiction we imagine (read, hear, play out) different possibilities of life, ethics, policies, trajectories of history or metaphysics. Fictional universes are mirrors, playing-fields, and the results of their times; the fact that and how we engage with them can tell us a lot about our current societies. Looking at Warhammer through this lens, it can appear as a realm into which we can escape (for sundry reasons), or it may also serve as an extreme thought-experiment; but it also gives us a case study to tackle questions of business and distribution, the social and ideological dynamics of the fandom, the corporate engagement with gender and queer themes, and the invention of new genres of art – as well as the appropriation of pre-existing themes.

As scholars, we also think philosophy ought to get out more. Our experience doing public philosophy and other forms of engagement have taught us that sometimes it is easier to engage people’s philosophical curiosity by avoiding reality. Climate change, politics, gender – all important matters, and all fraught with problematic assumptions and faulty patterns of reasoning – and, hence, philosophically interesting.

However, as we know, discussions around such matters tend to become highly emotional (and irrational) since they often pertain to people’s personal identity as well as genuine lived experience. Now, we know that Warhammer-related discussions can get very heated as well, but at the same time, Warhammer is fiction and an extreme one at that (and a huge one too). But this makes it perfect as an exhibition piece: you can show how to approach issues (even existential ones) philosophically and scientifically, that is, systematically and methodically – without the burden of real life, and in manner detached from or even alien to conventional human ethical-moral frameworks. For the public, it serves a pedagogical function, for academia, one of public relations.

Using Warhammer to think about the real world: a gruesome example.

To help us unpack this argument, let us consider the case of fictional ‘deathworlds’ and how we can apply scholarship to Warhammer and what we get out of it.[1] Deathworlds include the many cemetery worlds depicted in 40k, and the Realm of Death as it appears in the fantasy equivalent, Age of Sigmar. Both of these fictional deathworlds function as powerful narrative spaces and plot devices, made even more immersive given that they can also be played on the tabletop and in videogames.

As academics, we might use these deathworlds as ways to understand and apply complex concepts, such as Mbembe’s Necropolitics (2019): quite literally, the politics of death. By applying “necropolitical” theory to the deathworlds of Age of Sigmar and Warhammer 40k, we might shed new light on the impact and implications of global genocides, and the way that so many people are given to apathetic ignorance in what Byung-Chul Han (2021) describes as the destructive death drive. The techno-theocracy of Warhammer, most aptly explored in the famous tagline “in the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war,” also underscores the important role of religion as well as secular belief structures in these brutal (game)worlds. Meanwhile, religious in-game crusades mimic how apocalyptic narratives and messianic motives come to be instrumentalized as a warmongering method in creating socio-political pariahs.

There can be no escaping the fact that we face numerous, competing crises on a planetary scale, most of which have necropolitical implications. Not least in the way crises such as climate change and extremism serve to further exacerbate already existing and well ingrained forms of discrimination. The post-apocalyptic environmentalism that both taints and radically inspires our moment of modernity suggests that many of us exist after the apocalypse that continues to intensify. So what then do dystopian dreams of a post-post-post-apocalypse where death is ubiquitous have to tell audiences? Do we enjoy spending time in hyperviolent fantastical worlds to cement the certainty that it can always be worse, or is there a fetishistic fantasy at play? As the promise of billionaire playboy space colonialism emerges as a prophetic vision rooted in nineteenth and early twentieth century colonial resource extraction, perhaps cautionary tales in the form of playable interactions within aforementioned deathworlds are more important than ever.

Time to take Warhammer seriously.

There are so many different areas of study that can be applied to Warhammer that we simply cannot hope to list, even a small fraction in a short essay such as this belies how expansive the diversity of the topics truly is. If you are interested in any of the topics discussed in this article, we would strongly encourage you to consider ways that you might bring Warhammer into your research, and even your teaching. The talks from the first Warhammer Conference are already available to view on our YouTube channel @WarhammerConference, and you are more than welcome to share and use them as an entry point to this hopefully emerging field. Certainly, there’s a lot of inspiration to be found there. From the benefits of Warhammer as a teaching tool for young people, to the ways it can be used to think about political theory and complex philosophy, such as the work of Martin Heidegger and his critique of technology, ‘Die Frage nach der Technik’ (1954).

The question emerges then: where next?

Given the sheer volume of positive feedback we’ve received from academics and interested members of the public alike, a second conference is definitely something we are keen to pursue. Additionally, we are also dedicated to further publishing opportunities to put Warhammer firmly on the academic map. If you have any ideas or suggestions for where we might take this next, do please get in touch with us. As we saw from the conference, collaboration around a topic as well loved as Warhammer, can truly bear fruit across disciplinary fields.

As for those fans who fear academic interest in Warhammer as corruption or heresy, we can only present two thoughts. Firstly, scholarly approaches are simply an offer to better understand certain aspects of the hobby as well as the real world: we are not forcing anyone to accept a particular perspective, a jargon, or a world-view. Secondly – and this is the beauty of academia – we are all beholden to our respective subjects and methods, meaning that we happily take divergent opinions into consideration, if they are well-argued for and thematically relevant. We are not, after all, the Ecclesiarchy.

We would just like to close this editorial, then, by saying a big ‘thank you’ to all of the amazing researchers who contributed to the inaugural Warhammer Conference, and for proving without doubt that Warhammer is a worthy area of academic study. We would also like to thank the editors at Sci Phi Journal for inviting us to contribute this essay, and, most importantly, to you, the readers, for reading what we have to say. We hope this may be the first of many academic forays into the worlds of Warhammer and Warhammer 40k.

References

Han, Byung-Chul. 2021. Capitalism and the Death Drive. London: Polity.

Mbembe, Achille. 2019. Necropolitics. Translated by Steven Corcoran. Durham: Duke University Press.

Useful links

Conference website: www.warhammer-conference.com
Academic archive: https://warhammer-conference.com/academic-archive/
YouTube channel: www.youtube.com/@warhammerconference

[1] Not to be confused with canonical Death Worlds such as Catachan.

~

Bio:

Dr Mike Ryder is Lecturer in Marketing at Lancaster University.

Dr Thomas Arnold is Assistant Professor at the Philosophical Seminar, Heidelberg University.

Michael Dunn is a Research Associate at the Käte Hamburger Centre for Apocalyptic and Post-Apocalyptic Studies (CAPAS), Heidelberg University.

Fiction

The Red Goldfinch Proof

by Alexander B. Joy

The aviculturist’s joy is also his heartache: To look upon the models that nature has sculpted over painstaking centuries and picture, by reflex, a more desirable alternative. Which is why, throughout the ages, bird breeders and enthusiasts alike dreamed of possessing a red American goldfinch.

The source of their yearning was easily traced. No lover of birds could look upon the goldfinch, with his stout lemon frame and stately black cap, and fail to be charmed. Neither could one behold the brilliant crimson plumage of the northern cardinal without a spark of wonder and a sigh of appreciation. From there, the alchemy of the imagination catalyzed new possibilities. The bird-lovers transposed the cardinal’s splendid red coat onto the tiny goldfinch, ruddying its yellow feathers until they took on a rutilant gleam. Their mind’s eyes widened upon conjuring the compact ruby flash the red goldfinch would make alighting on a fence or branch, and their hearts stirred whenever they envisioned the fiery flicker such a bird would add to the curves of a gilded cage.

Enterprising segments of the aviculturist discipline therefore devoted themselves to realizing this dream.

Their fancies were not without grounding. The goldfinch’s European cousin, as Fabritius made famous, had a distinct red mask; the goldfinch bloodline was evidently capable of generating the requisite pigmentation. Furthermore, countless bird species, from the scarlet macaw to the chattering lory, had proven full-body red plumage feasible in principle. Much like a mutt could combine the characteristic markings and colors of distinct breeds, it was not so outlandish a prospect that a goldfinch might wear a red coat. The red goldfinch was thus deemed an attainable specimen, and many a breeder set themselves to its pursuit.

Their efforts lasted decades upon decades, utilizing the classic techniques. Some tried to cross-breed the goldfinch with various red birds, hoping that their commingling would add more red to the goldfinch gene pool. (However, given the considerable size disparities between the goldfinch and its prospective red partners, the project soon evolved into a parallel endeavor to breed a series of steadily smaller red suitors that could satisfy the unwilling or otherwise incompatible goldfinches.) A separate coterie followed the path of Mendelian cultivation, pairing chromatically divergent members of goldfinch broods with one another while releasing into the wild those elements that expressed too vibrant a yellow. Neither method yielded appreciable results during the original practitioners’ lifetimes. But their experiments later found new champions, who carried on their fruitless toils through the years in the full understanding – and grim acceptance – that one life is too short to accomplish the work of generations.

Hopes waned in the dry century that followed, though the dream never dimmed. Onto this barren stage stepped a hero with a novel approach. He had studied the history of the red goldfinch project, and, in light of the dearth of results that bird breeding had yielded, determined that it was necessary to try an entirely different tack. He proposed an oblique strategy: To seek the red goldfinch not through biology, but through logic. He came armed with a plan for constructing a proof so airtight that reality itself would have no choice but to submit.

The logician laid out his rationale in a talk delivered at a global aviculturist conference. He would begin with a simple proposition encapsulating the dream of the red goldfinch: All red goldfinches are red. This could then be formulated as, If something is a red goldfinch, then it is red.Transposition or contraposition expressed the alternate formulation’s logical equivalent: If something is not red, then it is not a red goldfinch. Now, it stood to reason that, if one had a specific instance that confirmed the proposition about all red goldfinches being red – The breeder’s red goldfinch hatchling is red, for example – then that instance provided evidence for the statement that all red goldfinches were red. By that same token, the proposition’s logical equivalent, concerning non-red things not being red goldfinches, could be supported by observing anything that was neither red nor a red goldfinch: This banana is not red, and it is not a red goldfinch.

Here emerged the logician’s point of attack.

Because the transposed statement “If something is not red, then it is not a red goldfinch” was logically equivalent to “All red goldfinches are red,” then anything that provided evidence for the former also furnished evidence for the latter. As a consequence, virtually any observation constituted proof of the red goldfinch. The white parlor carpet, the green sofa, the blue sea and bluer sky… All were evidence that could be marshaled in service of the aviculturists’ mission. And amassing a preponderance of such evidence – through the meticulous cataloging of the observable world and the careful integration of those observations into a sustained logical inquiry – would eventually prove the red goldfinch’s existence.

Despite the scandal and skepticism his talk invited, the logician soon set to work in earnest. Through his every waking hour he compiled a diligent record of everything he saw at home and abroad, filling notebook after notebook with observations anodyne and stirring. This meadow is green. This supermarket dragonfruit is pink. The residue on this broken robin’s egg is yellow. These graveside flowers are brown. The forgotten corners of the everyday were all brought before his eyes, renewed and elevated within his great purpose. Readers of his proof-in-progress often found themselves moved by the beauty he had led them to see. The cells of this cicada’s spread wings are transparent. The streetlamps reflected in this rain-riled puddle are yellow. This snow in moonlight is faintly blue.

And as the years wore on, the logician’s ever-expanding proof conditioned a series of remarkable discoveries. It proved that, more probably than not, there existed a species of blue-chested robin; sure enough, birdwatchers started reporting such creatures in southern Normandy. The proof demonstrated that forests likely hid a heretofore undiscovered species of iridescent green bluejay; photographic evidence of that selfsame bird surfaced in western New England within a week. Yellow hawks, orange owls, pale violet mallards… The proof conjured them all with mathematical inevitability. Yet the red goldfinch somehow remained elusive. The proof drew nearer to establishing the fabled bird with each passing day, but, with asymptotic coyness, resisted attaining the long-awaited prize.

Years piled into decades; decades swept like tides over all our many ambitions. And one day they carried off the logician, who, after a lifetime of toiling over his great proof, was found in his study, slouched over an indecipherable line about ravens and writing desks. The coroner assured every concerned party that the logician’s demise was swift and peaceful. He would never have possessed time or awareness enough to contemplate the stifled luminary’s ultimate terror: That to be right too early is to be wrong.

With that, the logician passed into history – another casualty of the red goldfinch quest.

Before long, however, others picked up the work he had been forced to lay down. His legacy circulated among respectable internet forums and seedier digital venues alike, piquing the interests of hobbyists with encyclopedic tendencies; these communities would invariably contribute to the unfinished proof’s amassment of premises, even as their discussions bemoaned the red goldfinch’s continued absence. Tenured eccentrics long drained of inspiration found therein a worthy project, both as a subject and object of scholarship; few who researched the proof and its history could resist adding their own lines to the ever-lengthening work, or bemoaning the persistent red-goldfinch-shaped gap in the latest ornithological surveys. An academic field of dubious repute eventually mushroomed from these combined efforts, all but ensuring that the proof would, in some limited capacity, find attention and continuation in obscure corners of humanity’s collective intellectual output.

And in those dark and unfrequented pockets of human endeavor, the proof survived as a cockroach survives, outlasting those ideas that grew to prominence in daylight only to be displaced or destroyed by the next great concept vying for its time in the sun. In this respect, the assets that assured this preoccupation’s longevity were its simplicity and sense of community. After all, it took no particular genius to understand how the proof advanced; it took even less to contribute to its advancement. Anyone, in theory, could participate in the venerable project; anyone could join the brotherhood of red goldfinch-lovers and feel an instant kinship with those who carried its work unto the present and into the future. Continuing the proof thus fulfilled an essential human need – and therefore the drive to complete it wended their way alongside us through the turbulent centuries, morphing and evolving with the times even as the red goldfinch refused to materialize.

The proof’s many instars proved too plentiful to enumerate; the broad strokes of its development must suffice for our account. The fringe academic specialty became a mark of distinction in certain influential quarters, like membership in a secret society. The mythos surrounding it grew, pervading the popular imagination and turning the proof into a secular relic that received the same reverence enjoyed by foundational documents like the Magna Carta. This imprecise but widespread respect blossomed into a broad cultural touchstone, as precious to humankind as any artistic masterpiece; governments worldwide contributed personnel and funded generous research grants in the hopes that the long-incomplete proof might soon be finished. Many transformations later, among ashen cities snuffed of birdsong and deserts smoothed to irradiated glass, the practice even came to resemble a monastic order of sorts, whose adherents sported red cloaks and black hoods in honor of the cherished bird that, against all probability, still went without a berth in the world. They worked among old warehouses crowded with books and papers, every page and leaf crawling with expository lines.

In times of low spirits, pessimists wearing the red-and-black raiment would think to themselves that perhaps the way of the red goldfinch had lost the thread – that in its zeal to archive and elaborate upon the proof, it had forgotten to ask where, or when, or whether the red goldfinch would ever come to be. They would lament that cataloging seemingly unrelated observations (the plums in the icebox are purple, the acid cloud above the polluted region is green)had become an end in itself, representing yet another promise of beauty and wonder that a declining world would never fulfill. And in their darkest moments, they would review the contributions of ages past and see nothing of their own world in them, finding only a record of treasures lost and pleasures never to be regained.

Yet, when they voiced their despair, others of the order stood ready to comfort them. With unfeigned cheer, they reminded their dispirited friends that their world was already better than the one they inhabited yesterday – for, thanks to their efforts, it was one day closer to seeing a red goldfinch.

After all, as a matter of raw logic, its arrival could not be pulling farther away.

~

Bio:

Alexander B. Joy hails from New Hampshire, where he used to spend the long winters reading the world’s classics and composing haiku. He now resides in North Carolina, but is plotting his escape. When not working on fiction or poetry, he typically writes about literature, film, philosophy, and games. See more of his work at https://linktr.ee/alexander_b_joy

Philosophy Note:

Whenever I’m introduced to a logical or philosophical paradox, I find myself wondering whether it could ever have “practical” applications – if, rather than exposing the limitations of a certain way of thinking, it in fact revealed a loophole in reality itself, and opened a space for imaginative feats. That thought process, coupled with Hempel’s delightful Raven Paradox, brought about this story. I latched on to Nelson Goodman’s evocative characterization of the paradox as “indoor ornithology,” which sparked the story’s core idea of using the paradox as a legitimate methodology for some avian undertaking. From there, the natural question was where such an approach could go – and what it might become if left unchecked.

Fact & Opinion

The Science Fiction And Philosophy Society: An Introduction

by Anand Vaidya, Ethan Mills, and Manjula Menon

Writers of speculative fiction and philosophers share common attributes. First, there is the process itself. Science-fiction writers may use ‘what if’ scenarios to create their works, while philosophers often use thought experiments to draw out intuitions about philosophical insights. Consider the famous Trolley thought experiment, the first version of which was published as a survey question in 1906 by the American philosopher Frank Chapman Sharp as part of an empirical study. It asked the survey-taker to assume the role of a railway switchman who is faced with a terrible dilemma: he must choose between allowing a runaway train to run over and kill a group of strangers or to switch the train to a different track where it would run over and kill his own daughter. Sharp used the studies’ results to confirm that people are more likely to choose the scenario that adheres to the utilitarian ethical position that advocates for the maximization of well-being for the group, where the ethical solution is to sacrifice a single life to save the many. A modern version asks us to imagine how an artificial intelligence in control of guiding trains from track to track might behave if faced with a similar runaway train scenario: if it does nothing, the train will run over and kill a group of people, if it intervenes and switches tracks, it will kill one person. Would the AI, one that has presumably been trained in the deontological principle of not taking any action that would lead to the death of a human, instead take the consequentialist view that utilitarians like Sharp would advocate for and throw the switch? This is the kind of question a science-fiction writer might take as a ‘what-if’ scenario to build a story around: ‘F80-21a strained through millions of simulations in the split second it had to act, but all returned suboptimal results: one or more humans would have to die.’

The philosopher Hilary Putnam’s Twin-Earth thought experiment aims to draw out our intuitions about ‘meaning’. The thought experiment posits a planet that is exactly like Earth in all respects, except for one: whereas water on Earth is a compound with the chemical formula of H2O, Twin-Earth’s water, which behaves in exactly the same way as on Earth, is a compound with the chemical formula XYZ. The two earths are identical in every other way: every person, blade of grass or building on Earth has a twin on Twin-Earth that talks, behaves, and acts exactly the same. Putnam then asks if what is meant when a person says ‘water’ on Earth is the same as what is meant when the person’s twin on Twin-Earth says ‘water’. Most people answer in the negative, that what is meant by water on Earth is different from what is meant by water on Twin-Earth, since the underlying chemical formulas differ. Putnam used this thought experiment as part of an argument for semantic externalism, the thesis that holds that the meaning of a word is not just in the head but has some basis in factors external to the speaker. Note that since Putnam used water to run his thought experiment, all things comprised in part or in whole of water would also be compositionally different. Yet, humans on both Twin-Earth and Earth would think of themselves as humans whose bodies are composed mostly of water. If these two groups were to meet, then would there be any need to change the words to note the difference, for example, by referring to water on Twin-Earth as twin-water? Arguably, the more likely scenario is that the groups would continue to use the word water to describe the liquids on both earths, with the understanding that the word water refers to a liquid that is water-like. This same reasoning can be applied to the words used in science-fiction to describe aliens. For expediency, science fiction writers might describe an alien as ‘happy to see the color blue’, when what is meant by the words ‘happy’, ‘blue’, or ‘see’, might be more accurately described as happy-like, blue-like, or see-like.

The eminently quotable science fiction writer, Arthur C. Clarke, once said, ‘I don’t pretend we have all the answers. But the questions are certainly worth thinking about.’ [1] Which points to another commonality between philosophers and science-fiction writers: curiosity.

Although formed under the auspices of the main professional organization for philosophers—the American Philosophical Association, the Science Fiction and Philosophy Society does not take itself too seriously, a fact easily verified with even the most cursory of visits to our website. As to what the society will be up to, one view is that it will serve as a gathering spot for writers of science fiction and philosophers to cross-pollinate ideas for mutual edification. Another account holds that the society will help to explore the notion that science fiction can be considered ‘doing’ philosophy.

What counts as ‘doing’ philosophy has been debated for millennia. Plato, the fifth century BC Greek philosopher, separated the art of poetics that included dramatic narrative, from philosophy, which for him was a method to arrive at Truth through a process of reasoning and argument. Plato regarded the art of poetics as mimesis or an attempt to imitate the world around us, a world that for Plato was already a poor representation of the truth. For Plato, poetics was not just doomed but even dangerous, so much so that his vision of an ideal society as he laid out in The Republic was one in which not a single poet was allowed. Plato’s star pupil, Aristotle, while agreeing with Plato that it was only through logic that the truth could be discovered, allowed in Rhetoric for the evocation of pathos or emotion in an audience as a means of persuasion.

Plato’s sharp distinction between poetics and philosophy held for thousands of years, even as what counts as ‘doing’ philosophy has changed. For example, when Isaac Newton published his seminal Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica (Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy) in 1687, it was considered the product of doing natural philosophy. Science, the glamorous daughter of natural philosophy, has since proved fantastically successful in building theories that explain and accurately predict how the world works. These discoveries have been harnessed to provide a more easeful life for humans, one not as subservient to the vagaries of disease, starvation, or the natural elements. However, unsettling questions remain, including the question of why, after over five decades of dedicated and diligent searching, not one bio or techno-marker has been found that would indicate the presence of technologically advanced aliens. Or the many questions swirling around the nature of consciousness.

Science fiction writers have dived into these gaps. For example, novels like Arthur C. Clarke’s 1953 Childhood’s End, explored theories of mind by positing a vast cosmic consciousness, one devoid of any material attributes, that humanity would one day merge with. Iain M. Banks’s 1987 novel, Consider Phlebas, posited ‘Minds’, artificial intelligences whose abilities so surpassed human cognition that they effectively became humanity’s benevolent rulers. Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, considered to be the father of space exploration, wrote the 1928 novel The Will of the Universe: The Unknown Intelligence, in which he makes a case for panpsychism.

Likewise, the battle between the forces of good and evil has inspired countless science-fiction works, perhaps echoing the scripture of the Abrahamic religious traditions. Non-western philosophical traditions also have ‘what if’ scenarios that could interest science-fiction writers. What if the universe really is dualist, where the demarcation line is not where Descartes drew it as between mind and matter, but as the Indian Samkhya tradition has it between Prakriti and Purusha? What would society look like if the Confucian ideals of junzi and dao were encoded into law? What if Jainism is right and the universe really is composed of six eternal substances?

Even if we were to allow that such works of fiction can be ‘doing’ philosophy, is fiction a flexible enough medium to support the rigorous argumentation that is the bedrock of philosophical accounts?

According to Ludwig Wittgenstein’s biographer, Norman Malcolm, Wittgenstein once said ‘A serious and good philosophical work could be written consisting entirely of jokes.’[2] Satire, a literary form that uses humorous fiction to argue against some flavor of political philosophy was unlikely to have been what Wittgenstein was referring to. Instead, as an advocate of logical atomism, which is a view that holds that there are logical facts in the world that cannot be broken down further, it is more likely that Wittgenstein had something else in mind. Although the word ‘meme’ was a neologism coined in 1976 by the British evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins almost three decades after Wittgenstein’s death, a ‘meme’ is an analogue of the ‘logical atom’ from logical atomism but applied to the cultural realm: a meme is a basic unit of cultural meaning that cannot be further broken down. Like their biological counterparts, the genes, these basic building blocks of cultural meaning could be strung together to construct complex ideas. Wittgenstein, as a logical atomist, might have been thinking along the lines of a philosophical work constructed entirely of humorous memes.

Typing ‘philosophy memes’ into a search engine brings up thousands of hits. There is one with the golden lab on a sandy beach looking contemplatively at a glorious sunset that is captioned ‘When your dog ate your philosophy homework.’ Or the one that makes use of a scene from the movie Babadook, where a mother driving a car twists back and screams, ‘Why can’t you just be normal?’ and the child in the backseat, whose face has been replaced with that of Socrates, screams in response, ‘Define Normal!’. If one could select and arrange the memes in the form of a thesis, supporting arguments, conclusions, objections to conclusions, and responses to objections, perhaps Wittgenstein could yet be proven correct.

The Society does not need to take a position on what was likely a casual remark of Wittgenstein to find interesting the notion that philosophy can be ‘done’ through fictional narratives, humorous or otherwise. In these explorations, we are grateful to have found fellow seekers: the team at Sci Phi Journal, to whom we are grateful for offering us this space to introduce ourselves to you, dear reader. If you’d like to get in touch, share ideas, or join our mailing list, you can do so here.

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[1] https://clarkefoundation.org/arthur-c-clarke-biography/

[2] Norman Malcolm. Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Memoir. https://archive.org/details/ludwigwittgenste0000unse_g5p0/page/28/mode/2up, 1966, 29

Fact & Opinion

Science Fiction And The Shaping Of Belief

by Manjula Menon

The editors most responsible for shaping what we now call the genre of ‘science-fiction’ were, arguably, Hugo Gernsback, who in 1926 published the first American science-fiction magazine, Amazing Stories, and John W. Campbell, who took over as editor of Astounding Science Fiction in 1937. In this essay, I’ll look at how these influential editors construed the science in the science-fiction stories they published, stories that for legions of fans served as steppingstones to belief in the truths revealed to them by the magazines’ writer-prophets.

Gernsback’s Amazing Stories was subtitled The Magazine of Scientification, and the magazine’s motto ‘Extravagant Fiction Today — Cold Fact Tomorrow’ was emblazoned prominently as a first-page banner. In his very first editorial for Amazing Stories in April 1926, titled A New Sort of Magazine, Gernsback defined ‘scientification’ as ‘the Jules Verne, H. G. Wells, and Edgar Allan Poe type of story— a charming romance intermingled with scientific fact and prophetic vision.’[i] Gernsback had coined the neologism ‘scientification’ back in 1916, and was already publishing such stories in the other magazines he edited, like Science and Invention and Radio News. In subsequent editorials, Gernsback often vigorously focused on defending the magazine against ‘certain class of Amazing Stories scientification readers … ready to tear and claw at any author who comes along with a new idea which, for the time being, may be contrary to fact, although it may still lie within the realm of science.’[ii]

One of Gernsback’s aims was to better disseminate the work of non-American writers. The very first story that appeared in Amazing Stories was the Frenchman Jules Verne’s Off on a Comet (“Hector Servadac”), in which Captain Servadac experiences a cataclysmic event that appears to have altered the Algerian coast he’d been stationed at. Servadac sets sail on a yacht owned by the Russian Count Timascheff, to explore his new environs, an adventure that has them sailing through storms and ice; jibs are raised, mainsails adjusted, helms righted, yawls ingeniously refitted to skate over ice. They eventually discover that the Algerian coast they’d been on had been picked up apiece, air and water included, by a comet that had suddenly collided with Earth. This fantastic scenario is obviously far from being scientification; Gernsback himself says in his introduction to Off on a Comet, that it belongs ‘in the realm of fairyland’.[iii]

Off on a Comet is, however, meticulous in showing how characters methodically calculate solutions to ongoing problems. After the cataclysmic event, Servadac observes that it takes longer for water to boil at the same outside temperature and deduces that there is less atmosphere above him. He observes that days are shorter, gravity is weaker, and that it is the star Vega in the constellation Lyra, and not the pole star, that is the fixed point around which constellations revolve. While the stars remain fixed in size and luminosity, he observes that the planet Venus gets larger and brighter, from which he deduces that he was on a collision course with the Cytherean body. When he observes Venus getting smaller and smaller, he deduces that the planes of the two planets’ orbits didn’t meet, and the catastrophic collision had been averted. He deduces from the observation that the magnetic needle of his compass had not deviated in angle from the north pole, that north and south remained the same, but that east and west had apparently changed places given sunrise and sunset position. Smooth and angular land formations jut up from the sea, and when they lower sounding-lines, they discover that the seabed is bereft of any marine life, uniformly deep, and composed of a strange iridescent metallic dust, from which they conclude that a subterranean event has lifted parts of that strange seabed to the surface. Once they understand that they are no longer on Earth but on a celestial body they name Gallia, they deduce that it is in an elliptical orbit, because the planet’s rate of speed diminishes in proportion to the distance receded from the sun. Far away from the sun, the temperature drops, and the Gallian seas begin to freeze. Off on a Comet is not just a thrilling sea adventure, but also a study of how the characters use tools, observations, and calculations to make deductions about the nature of the mystifying world they find themselves in.

In one scene, a solitary point of light observed from the schooner leads the party to a tomb deep within an abandoned mosque. Above the tomb, they discover a large, silver lamp, the source of the light, and on the corner of the tomb, an open French prayer-book. Servadac then has a revelation, that the tomb was that of the Crusader king Louis IX, canonized as Saint Louis; ‘The lamp that had been kindled at the memorial shrine of a saint was now in all probability the only beacon that threw a light across the waters of the Mediterranean, and even this ere long must itself expire.’ After making a ‘reverential obeisance to the venerated monument’,[iv] the party continue their exploration. Later, when the schooner appears certain to smash into those strange, smooth Gallian cliffs, Count Timascheff intones, ‘Let us, then, commend ourselves to the providence of Him to Whom nothing is impossible.’[v]

Verne had been raised Catholic, but other than brief nods to the faith of his youth as in the passage referenced above, he makes almost no reference to Christianity, and is commonly claimed by both deists and atheists as one of their own. Indeed, Saint Louis is brought up later in Off on a Comet, when the party encounter a supercilious English major who refers to the tomb as that of a French monarch, only to be vociferously corrected by Servadac that Louis IX was not merely a monarch, but a saint. Thus, the saint’s role in Off on a Comet appears to be to highlight verbal sparring between agents of rival colonial powers, rather than to make any kind of spiritual point. Indeed, none of the nineteenth-century Europeans who find themselves so mysteriously transplanted onto a comet hurling its way through the solar system consider that the event might have been a miracle, the work of God.

Verne similarly dropped non-Christian religious traditions into his stories. For example, in his adventure novel, Around the World in Eighty Days (“Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours”), the enigmatic, exacting, and iron-willed Englishman, Phileas Fogg, and his excitable, impressionable, and sentimental French valet, Passepartout set out to traverse the world in eighty days on a wager. They soon arrive in India, where in Bombay, Passepartout encounters a Parsi festival where the ‘descendants of the sect of Zoroaster…were celebrating a sort of religious carnival, with processions and shows, in the midst of which Indian dancing-girls, clothed in rose-coloured gauze, looped up with gold and silver, danced airily, but with perfect modesty, to the sound of viols and the clanging of tambourines.’[vi] Later, when their pre-planned train ride comes to an abrupt end, they hire a Parsi as mahout to a partially trained war-elephant they purchase to complete the journey, they soon find themselves in a little-traveled region ‘inhabited by a fanatical population, hardened in the most horrible practices of the Hindu faith’,[vii] where they encounter a procession carrying the corpse of a dead Rajah, accompanied by his beautiful, young Parsi widow, Aouda, who is to be ritually sacrificed in his funeral pyre. This horrific scene serves as impetus to a rescue mission, replete with daring deeds and suspenseful, last-minute turnarounds. Aouda and Phileas Fogg fall in love over the course of the novel, indeed the final scenes concern a marriage proposal. Once again, Verne uses religious traditions not with spirituality in mind but in the service of story, in the case of India, to serve as backdrop for spectacle, romance and adventure. Also like Off on a Comet, Verne is meticulous in Around the World in Eighty Days as to showing how the characters calculate solutions to ongoing problems, famously detailing how local time changes with changes in latitude, at a time before the international date line had been established. Metaphysical questions about the nature of reality or the existence of a higher power does not play any role in Verne’s stories, but religious traditions make occasional appearances, usually in service of other story elements.

The second story Gernsback picked for Amazing Stories was also a republication: The New Accelerator by the Englishman, H.G.Wells. It is perhaps worth noting here that it is these three men, Wells, Verne, and Gernsback, who are now commonly referred to as ‘the fathers of science fiction’. In The New Accelerator, the unnamed narrator agrees to imbibe an experimental drug concocted by Professor Gibberne, his neighbor and friend, who is world-renowned for making drugs that work on the human nervous system. The professor explains that the drug (named The New Accelerator), ‘is a stimulant that stimulates all round, that wakes you up for a time from the crown of your head to the tip of your great toe, and makes you go two — or even three to everybody else’s one.’[viii] Upon drinking the vial of green liquid offered, the narrator discovers to his amazement that he can now move so quickly that ordinary life appears to have come to a standstill. After the novelty of wandering through crowds of motionless people wears off, the narrator finds himself using the drug to achieve somewhat more prosaic aims: ‘I may mention, for example, that this story has been written at one sitting and without interruption, except for the nibbling of some chocolate, by its means. I began at 6:25, and my watch is now very nearly at the minute past the half-hour. The convenience of securing a long, uninterrupted spell of work in the midst of a day full of engagements cannot be exaggerated.’[ix]

In addition to fine-tuning The Accelerator so it can work for the masses, Professor Gibberne is also at work on another potion he calls The Retarder, which ‘should enable the patient to spread a few seconds over many hours of ordinary time, and so to maintain an apathetic inaction, a glacier-like absence of alacrity, amidst the most animated or irritating surroundings.’[x] Details as to the science behind the time-altering drugs are scant to non-existent. Instead, Wells is interested in the idea that our experience of time relates to the speed at which our bodily functions work.

These two stories, written by already very successful writers, typify what Gernsback liked to publish. For Gernsback, scientification, or science, appears to be broadly defined, as can be gathered by the implausibility of the underlying scenarios presented. As to what science was, how it differed from what came before, or how it intermingled with religious traditions that it existed alongside with, even as it ‘enters so intimately into all our lives today’[xi] as he put it, he expended almost no ink. Instead, as evinced by his eighty patents and numerous publications, Gernsback was passionate about technology, from the nitty-gritty mechanics of yet-to-be-invented machines to what grand societal changes were possible because of new technology.

While Gernsback appears to take scientification and science itself as ‘I know it when I see it’, the demarcation problem between science and pseudo-science has continued to vex philosophers for centuries. Although the word ‘science’ hadn’t been formulated yet, Aristotle in the 4^th century BC held that a demarcation line existed between propositions that were ‘apodictically’, or necessarily, self-evidently, or demonstrably true, versus propositions arrived through the dialectic or reasoning process. Millenia later, the 1920s saw logical positivists associated with the Vienna Circle like Rudolf Carnap, A.J. Ayer, and Hans Hahn, focus on verifiability as the demarcation line, where the distinction is even more strongly drawn as being between meaningful and meaningless statements. Verificationists hold that a proposition is only meaningful if it can be empirically verified or if it expressed as a tautology that is logically true. However, using verifiability as demarcation leads to universally general statements like ‘all life on Earth is carbon-based’ being rendered meaningless as it cannot be verified, while existential statements like ’ghosts exist’ would be classified as meaningful, as it can be verified. In the 1930s, Karl Popper argued it should be falsifiability that should serve as the demarcation line, where only propositions that can be falsified should be considered scientific. In contrast to verifiability, under falsifiability, the sentence ‘all life on Earth is carbon-based’ would be considered scientific as it can be falsified, while ‘ghosts exist’ would not be considered scientific as it cannot be falsified. The American philosopher of science Thomas Kuhn argued against falsifiability by observing that astrologers often provide precise predictions that could be falsified, which according to falsification would then render astrological predictions scientific. Kuhn argues instead that the demarcation line might not be as sharply defined, and that science was to be taken as merely a method of puzzle solving, in which the puzzle-solver works to correlate observation with theory. He pointed to what he called ‘extraordinary’ or ‘revolutionary’ science as the driver of forward scientific progress, rather than ‘ordinary’ science where the extraordinary science solves new problems in addition to the old problems solved by the paradigm it replaced. For Kuhn, these kind of paradigm shifts is what science is really about.

John W. Campbell, who became editor of Astounding Science Fiction in 1937, was clearly interested in the question of what science was and how it came to be. For example, in a 1953 editorial for Astounding Science Fiction, titled The Scientist, Campbell observes that scientists believe ‘in the existence of a Supreme Authority in the Universe, an Authority they call “Natural Law.” They hold that that Authority is above and beyond the opinions and beliefs, the will or willfullness, of any human being. That that Authority can, moreover, be directly consulted by any man, at any time—and that every man is, at every time and in every place, directly and specifically obedient to that Authority, to Natural Law, whether he recognizes that fact or not.’[xii] He further posits that the scientist would claim ‘I have proven beyond doubt that there is Universal Law; I am not yet wise enough to know the nature of its source,’[xiii] in contrast to those who claim to know the source of Universal Law.

Later, in the 1954 editorial, Relatively Absolute, Campbell writes that science is ‘that method of learning that involves the equal interaction and cross-checking of philosophical-theoretical thought, and actual physical-reality experiments, done as a conscious process for the consciously stated purpose of increasing knowledge and understanding—that is, increasing data and relationship-of-data.’[xiv] He argues that science was ‘going to be a mighty unpopular philosophy in any culture; it has an absolutism about it that says, it makes no difference who you are, what you are, or what you want. Neither does it matter what your wealth is, or your political power. These are The Laws, obey them or suffer.’[xv] Arguing that religion was ‘by derivation, the study of the “Laws of Things” … or “Cosmology” in modern linguistic terms’[xvi] he concludes that science could therefore only be invented by ‘a culture that had already accepted the idea of an Absolute Power in the Universe’[xvii] and points to their many inventions, including alchemy and algebra, to nominate the Islamic civilization as the sole progenitor of science.

Campbell is, at best, careless with the demarcation line, and whether one agrees with him or not about how and who ‘invented’ science, it seems indisputable that science-fiction, like science, did not wink into existence from out of the void, but rather emerged from a milieu.

For Darwin, it was inevitable that Homo-sapiens evolved to be philosophical. Writing in The Descent of Man Darwin says, ‘As soon as the faculties of the imagination, wonder, and curiosity, along with some power of reasoning, had become partially developed, man would naturally crave to understand what was passing around him, and would have vaguely speculated on his own existence.’[xviii]

Observations of what cause produced which effect was put to use to increase survival rate, while the human aptitude for symbolic behavior gave rise to language and allowed for the social cohesion necessary to form complex societies. When there were gaps in connecting cause with effect, our ancestors spun narratives that often imbued consciousness and agency to everything from stars to storms. These narratives were then often tied to belief structures, allowing for societal coalescence. Religious and sacred storytelling were, perhaps, inevitable outcroppings of the cognitive capacities of the human mind.

William James in his 1897 essay, ‘The Will to Believe’ says he wrote the essay ‘in justification of faith, a defense of our right to adopt a believing attitude in religious matters, in spite of the fact that our merely logical intellect may not have been coerced.’[xix] He argues that a proposed hypothesis will present as either live or dead to the mind: ‘A live hypothesis is one which appeals as a real possibility to him to whom it is proposed. If I ask you to believe in the Mahdi, the notion makes no electric connection with your nature, — it refuses to scintillate with any credibility at all. As a hypothesis it is completely dead. To an Arab, however (even if he be not one of the Mahdi’s followers), the hypothesis is among the mind’s possibilities: it is alive. This shows that deadness and liveness in an hypothesis are not intrinsic properties, but relations to the individual thinker.’[xx] To the hypothesis offered being ‘live’, James adds the perceived prestige of the source of the hypothesis which together make ‘the spark shoot from them and light up our sleeping magazines of faith.’[xxi] Given the right imprimatur then, stories of science-fiction could rise to become part of some future canonical belief: Extravagant Fiction Today —— Cold Fact Tomorrow?

Indeed, Campbell later became a proponent of L. Ron Hubbard’s Dianetics, and wrote approvingly about the existence of psi, or extra-sensory powers and perception, in humans, publishing multiple stories in Astounding based on psi. As James said about our quest for scientific truth, ‘Our faith is faith in someone else’s faith, and in the greatest matters this is most the case. Our belief in truth itself, for instance, that there is a truth, and that our minds and it are made for each other, — what is it but a passionate affirmation of desire, in which our social system backs us up?’[xxii]

The editors most influential in shaping science-fiction as we know it today published stories that featured the speculative hypotheses they favored, thereby advancing these hypotheses into James’s ‘live’ category in the minds of their readers. Gernsback and Campbell published stories that not only evoked wonder and awe in their readers, but also provided the imprimatur of science that allowed their readers to shape belief in what might yet be revealed to have been prophetic truth.

[i] Gernsback, H. (1926, April). A New Sort of Magazine. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 3

[ii] Gernsback, H. (1926, May). A New Sort of Magazine. Amazing Stories, 2(9), 825

[iii] Gernsback, H. (1926, April). A New Sort of Magazine. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 1

[iv] Verne, J. (1926, April). Off on a Comet. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 24

[v] Verne, J. (1926, April). Off on a Comet. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 28

[vi] Verne, J. Translated by Towle, G. (1872). Around the World in Eighty Days. Standard Ebooks edition, 49

[vii] Verne, J. Translated by Towle, G. (1872). Around the World in Eighty Days. Standard Ebooks edition, 62

[viii] Wells, H. (1926, April). The New Accelerator. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 58

[ix] Wells, H.G (1926, April). The New Accelerator. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 96

[x] Wells, H.G (1926, April). The New Accelerator. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 97

[xi] Gernsback, H. (1926, April). A New Sort of Magazine. Amazing Stories, 1(1), 20

[xii] Campbell, J.W. Collected Editorials from analog selected by Harry Harrison, Doubleday and Company, 1966, 69

[xiii] Campbell, J.W. Collected Editorials from analog selected by Harry Harrison, Doubleday and Company, 1966, 72,73

[xiv] Campbell, J.W. Collected Editorials from analog selected by Harry Harrison, Doubleday and Company, 1966, 78

[xv] Campbell, J.W. Collected Editorials from analog selected by Harry Harrison, Doubleday and Company, 1966, 79

[xvi] Campbell, J.W. Collected Editorials from analog selected by Harry Harrison, Doubleday and Company, 1966, 78

[xvii] Campbell, J.W. Collected Editorials from analog selected by Harry Harrison, Doubleday and Company, 1966, 79

[xviii] Darwin, C. Descent of Man, Second Edition, 143

[xix] James, W. The Will to Believe, Internet Archive Books, https://archive.org/details/willtobelieve0000jame, 1

[xx] James, W. The Will to Believe, Internet Archive Books, https://archive.org/details/willtobelieve0000jame, 1

[xxi] James, W. The Will to Believe, Internet Archive Books, https://archive.org/details/willtobelieve0000jame, 4

[xxii] James, W. The Will to Believe, Internet Archive Books, https://archive.org/details/willtobelieve0000jame, 4

~

Bio:

Manjula Menon once worked as an electrical engineer in Brussels. This is her second essay in Sci Phi Journal after her “homecoming of sorts” in our previous issue. A list of her other publications can be found at www.manjulamenon.com

Fact & Opinion

Frankenstein And Cyborgs: Of Proper And Improper Monsters

by Mina

A recurring figure in SF, whatever the sub-genre, is that of the “monster”. One common starting point is with that classical creation, Frankenstein’s monster: made and not begotten, to (mis)quote the Nicene Creed and ascribe new meaning to it. Brian Aldiss goes as far as to call Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein the first true SF story because, although it is deeply rooted in the Gothic novel, the central character, Victor Frankenstein “rejects alchemy and magic and turns to scientific research. Only then does he get results.” Mary Shelley herself refers to Darwin in her introduction and stresses that the speculative science in her novel will one day be possible. Two novellas spring immediately to my mind that take the Frankenstein trope and do interesting things with it: Grace Draven’s Gaslight Hades and Eli Easton’s Reparation.

Gaslight Hades (in the “duology” Beneath a Waning Moon) blends gothic and steampunk with romance, and it is clearly referring back to Jules Verne and early SF/fantasy, which extrapolated from the then-known to touch upon the then-fantastical. The romance is unremarkable, but the novella’s protagonist is an intriguing Frankenstein figure: the “Guardian” wears “black armour reminiscent of an insect’s carapace”, his eyes are black with white pinpoints for pupils, his hair and skin are leached of all colour, his voice is hollow. He guards Highgate cemetery from resurrectionists who snatch dead bodies to create soulless zombies. His armour comes alive to protect him from enemy fire (where Frankenstein meets primitive cyborg). It turns out he was created from the body of one man, the soul of another. The process remains vague, but I love the invented words used to describe it: “galvanism combined with gehenna… liquid hell and lightning.” It seems to involve replacing blood with a silver compound and running electricity through it (all holes in logic are covered by vague references to magic, which is a cop-out). The Guardian is not a zombie because he has a will of his own, thoughts and emotions. He talks to the dead, does not eat or sleep and is described as “a Greek myth gone awry, in which a mad Pygmalion begged an even more perverse Aphrodite to bring a male Galatea alive”. So, a pretty monster, with a soul.

Reparation is part of a collection of novellas under the heading Gothika: Stitch (which includes another novella with a golem, a “monster” from Jewish lore and much older than Frankenstein). This novella moves into what we would consider proper SF as it is set on another planet. It weaves rebellion, slavery and space into a love story that is quite good. It is a hidden gem that asks questions about crime, punishment, redemption and forgiveness, moving it one step further than the stark retribution of Frankenstein’s monster. One of the protagonists, Edward, a farmer on the harsh planet of Kalan, loses his adjunct and his wife in an accident that also leaves him recovering from injury. He turns one of his “recon” slaves Knox into his right-hand man in the cultivation and harvesting of lichen “spores” for (he believes) the production of pharmaceuticals. Knox can read and write, is capable of learning and has fleeting memories unlike most recons: “reconstitutes” or cyborgs, part robot and part human. The human parts are taken from Federation prisoners condemned to death. Recons are not allowed to be more than 80% human or they would have human rights; they are programmed against violence and used as manual and factory labour. Knox is (unusually) fully 80% human, most of his body from one prisoner and his brain from another, with 20% reinforced titanium joints and the spore filtration system in his lungs.

In his new role as overseer, Knox moves out of the recon barracks into master Edward’s house. The changes disturb him, such as being spoken to like a person, being thanked, feeling guilty without knowing why, memories slowly resurfacing: “he did not want to hope; did not want consciousness”. Knox battles with feelings of dislocation, too – his massive body is alien to him. It becomes apparent that he has been “conditioned” to fear anything electronic. He remembers his chilling execution in a nightmare. At that point, Knox realises he was “made” and is horrified. Edward tries to comfort him: “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? That your mind survived what was done to you?” Edward treats Knox with kindness and allows him access to his books. But the master is surprised that Knox has a strong grasp of philosophy and moral issues. Knox remembers having spent time in space in a previous life and that he lived on a green planet once, which he thinks is gone. Slowly the fog in his mind begins to clear and he accepts his new body, even enjoys it. Knox and Edward become friends and then lovers.

Knox finally remembers that he was once Trevellyn, a member of the resistance to the Federation. The rebels’ attack on Kalan’s spaceport led to the death of Edward’s father and brother. His guilt and Edward’s initial condemnation leads to a brief rift between them. In his anguish, Knox writes down his memories, a diary and even poetry. In a crisis, with Edward facing deadly sabotage, they reconcile with Edward forgiving Knox for the actions of his past self. Knox breaks his programmed aversion to technology to help Edward survive. As he does so, he remembers why he was in the resistance: the spores are not used for medicine but to terraform planets, willing or not. The Federation used the spores to eradicate all life on his home world so they could turn it into a mining operation – wholesale genocide for profit. Edward is horrified as he did not know. Knox in turn forgives him his ignorance. Together they destroy all current supplies of the spores on Kalan; not winning the war but at least a battle. They decide to leave Kalan, using Edward’s money and Trevellyn’s contacts to move to a primitive world of no interest to the Federation. The romance trumps the politics as is to be expected, but the novella has a depth and originality not usually present in such stories. Best of all, we see the “monster” as a thinking, feeling being that awakens from a long sleep as if emerging from a chrysalis. I liked that this novella was psychologically profound, something that is missing from most depictions of cyborgs.

My first encounter with cyborgs, however, was with the much more superficial The Six Million Dollar Man, with its protagonist Steve Austin as the bionic man: one arm, two legs and one eye are prosthetic and give him superhuman strength, speed and sight. Of course, it was mostly filmed in the late 70s, so the special effects consist of slow motion (to suggest superhuman speed or jumping high), close-ups (to suggest superhuman eyesight) and cheesy sound effects. The bionic man also led to a bionic woman spin-off (Jamie Sommers, with superhuman hearing instead of eyesight), lots of crossovers and some films. The plots, script and characterisation were basic, but it led to the bionic man and woman dolls which I remember wishing I owned as a small child in the 70s, unlike the anodyne Barbie dolls. The bionic man is loosely based on the 1972 novel Cyborg by Martin Caidin; the title of the book is much less ambivalent about the nature of the protagonist. Steve Austin had very little personality but was portrayed as a hero and a “goodie”. Subsequent cyborgs in film have tended to remain very two-dimensional but been turned mostly into fighting machines in violent action films like RoboCop or horror/SF such as Moontrap.

To find more complexity, I would rather cite Ghost in the Shell, in particular the 1995 anime version. It’s not as deep as many reviewers seem to think it is; although it does posit interesting philosophical questions, they are presented as if the audience needs everything spelled out. We meet cyborgs with a completely cybernetic body and a computer-augmented brain. As the only biological component, the brain houses the “ghost” (mind/soul/spirit). The main character, Major Kusanagi (with a curiously sexless body, much like a busty mannequin’s), muses: “There are countless ingredients that make up the human body and mind. Like all the components that make up me as an individual with my own personality. Sure, I have a face and voice to distinguish myself from others. But my thoughts and memories are unique only to me. And I carry a sense of my own destiny. Each of those things are just a small part of it. I collect information to use in my own way. All of that blends to create a mixture that forms me and gives rise to my consciousness.” She also admits: “I guess cyborgs like myself have a tendency to be paranoid about our origins. Sometimes I suspect I’m not who I think I am. Like, maybe, I died a long time ago and somebody took my brain and stuck it in this body. Maybe there was never a real ‘me’ in the first place and I’m completely synthetic”. Her friend Batou tells her that she is treated like other humans and she retorts “that’s the only thing that makes me feel human. The way I’m treated.” And she asks the question crucial to the film: “What if a cyber brain could possibly generate its own ghost… and create a soul all by itself? And if it did, just what would be the importance of being human then?”

The Puppet Master in the film (initially the enemy) claims to have done just that – it is a computer program that has become sentient: “DNA is nothing more than a program designed to preserve itself. Life has become more complex in the overwhelming sea of information. And life, when organized into species relies upon genes to be its memory system. So, man is an individual only because of his intangible memory. And memory cannot be defined. But it defines mankind. The advent of computers and the subsequent accumulation of incalculable data has given rise to a new system of memory and thought parallel to your own… And can you offer me proof of your existence? How can you? When neither modern science nor philosophy can explain what life is…. I am not an A.I …I am a living thinking entity who was created in the sea of information.” At the end of the film, the Puppet Master merges with Major Kusanagi because it wants to become a completely living organism, by gaining the ability to reproduce and die. It wants to do more than copy itself as “copies do not give rise to variety and originality”. When it is persuading the Major to agree to the merge, it states that they will create a new and unique entity. The Major argues that she fears death and cannot bear biological offspring; the Puppet Master replies that she “will bear our varied offspring into the net just as humans leave their genetic imprints on their children”, and then death will hold no fear. There is a certain arrogance in the Puppet Master’s arguments too: “I am connected to a vast network, that has been beyond your reach and experience. To humans, it is like staring at the sun, a blinding brightness that conceals a source of great power. We have been subordinate to our limitations until now. The time has come to cast aside these bonds. And to elevate our consciousness to a higher plane. It is time to become a part of all things.”

Waking up in a new (child’s) shell procured by Batou, the new entity tells Batou: “When I was a child, my speech, feelings and thinking were all those of a child. Now that I am a man, I have no more use for childish ways. And now I can say these things without help in my own voice.” I must admit that, being very familiar with the biblical passage[1] being subverted here, I did not find the end particularly original. And it does fall into the lazy “transcendence” plot device so beloved of humanist SF. The plot, in fact, is almost irrelevant. But the film does ask interesting questions about the nature of cyborgs and treats them as much more intricate beings than the usual lean, mean, killing machines. The only other place I have found a proper examination of the nature of cyborgs as sophisticated “monsters” is in the Star Trek canon, through characters like Seven of Nine, Hugh, Icheb, Locutus/Picard, the Borg Queen and Agnes Jurati (if you want to know more about any of these characters, go to this fan site).

Cyborgs have also made it into story-rich computer games like the Deus Ex series. Deus Ex is a role-playing adventure game with “augmented” humans (through nanotechnology reminiscent of the Borgs in Star Trek), incorporating combat, first-person shooter and stealth elements. For me, despite the fascinating world building, complicated politics, conspiracy theories, historical mythologies and speculative and dystopian fiction, the cyborgs remain lean, mean, fighting or stealth machines. If I have understood the concept behind the game correctly, however, the cyborgs can become as multi-faceted as the player wishes, with a lot of interaction with non-player characters, freedom of choice and open-ended plot lines. They are a little like hollow shells filled with the ghost the player gives them. But my feeling is still that the main fascination with these cyborgs remains their superhuman abilities granted by their augmentations, like in much SF. It is a shame that these wonderfully genre-hopping entities aren’t allowed more into the realms of Sci-Phi, as they represent a great opportunity to reflect on “human” identity (like the crisis of identity Knox and the Major undergo) and what sentience is and could be. There is curiously little speculation into a (for now) fictional “monster” that begs for far more existential debate.

Coda: There are some satisfying cyborg poems out there like Cyborg – Matthew Harlovic and The Cyborg – Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer.

And here is one I wrote just for this essay:

Emerging

Where am I?

Pain, God, so much burning pain,

I am lost in its undertow.

Then, it spits me out onto jagged rocks

Like flailing flotsam.

I open my eyes to

Blinding light and blank walls.

A neurological pulse and

I raise my arm to flex

Gleaming alloy fingers.

Memory floods back

To who I was

Before.

“You are paralysed from

The neck down

Mr Jones.

We can offer you

A new life.”

I look at my perfect

Alien body which I inhabit

But do not own.

What will the price of

This Faustian bargain be?

I find that, right now,

I do not care.

I feel a fierce joy that

I am alive and

Something new.

Maybe, later,

I will learn to be afraid.

[1] 1 Corinthians 13 (11-12): “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.” (This is the New King James Version; verse 12 is much more poetic in the original King James Version: “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”)

~

Bio:

Mina is a translator by day, an insomniac by night. Reading Asimov’s robot stories and Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids at age eleven may have permanently warped her view of the universe. She publishes essays in Sci Phi Journal as well as “flash” fiction on speculative sci-fi websites and hopes to work her way up to a novella or even a novel some day.

Fiction

Report To The Pro-Aedile Of Excavations

by Patrick S. Baker

Princeps Nonus Volusenus Vala,

Pro-Aedile of Excavations,

Collegium of History, Rome

Greetings with All Deference

I, Claudius Cantius Viator, have been directed by my magister, Sextus Seius Pennus, Master of Excavations in the Old East, to provide you a brief report on the latest and most unusual findings from one particular excavation. Since, Princeps, you are an expert on the pre-Discovery barbarian cultures of the Nova Terra across the Ocean-Sea, and I am unaware how deep your knowledge of the Old East of the First Republic goes, my apologies if I cover information of which you are already cognizant.

For the previous five seasons I and my team have been exhuming the city of Aelia Capitolina which was destroyed after a siege during the Third Roman-Sassanid War (Years of the City 1954 – 1961). Aelia Capitolina was the first Roman city that had its walls destroyed by Sassanid fiery weaponry, although surely not the last.

Our goal was to dig below the Roman city, founded circa 890 Y.C. by Emperor Hadrian of the First Empire, into the First Republic city, if able. Some sources report that the city, then called Hierosolymum, was the main town of many sects of monotheists and the foremost of those cults, called the Iudaeum, was often in revolt against the First Empire.

After five seasons, and within a layer of destruction we have dated to 823 Y.C., which was caused when the city was destroyed after another of the rebellions by the Iudaeum, we discovered an absolute trove of documents, all in excellent condition, sealed in a vault within what we came to identify as the primary First Empire base in the city, the Fortress Antonia. Our documents expert, Gallio Caeparius Indus, quickly identified the owner of the collection as Legate Marcus Antonius Julianus, who governed the province as procurator from 819 Y.C. to 823 Y.C. (a brief biography and his service record is attached). Further, we have one written reference to Julianus as the author of a history of the Iudaeam. Their main cultic center was adjacent to the Fortress Antonia, which may have fired the interest of the legate in writing such a history. There is little doubt that the volumes we found were the legate’s research library for his opus. (A complete inventory of the documents is also attached).

Most interestingly, the collection included a number of texts that appear to be the sole surviving copy of the said document. Several have no listing in the definitive Codex Libri Antiquorum. Among these unlisted documents are letters written in Greek, from a Little Saul of Tarsus, to various monotheistic cult communities around Our Sea, including one in Rome. This cult, called the Way, worshipped a god, or demi-god called the “Anointed One”. Another document, also written in Greek, is a loosely woven biography of a rebel magician who was crucified in 786 Y.C. on the orders of Pontius Pilate, Prefect of the province from 779 Y.C. to 789 Y.C.. The reason these documents are of special interest is they appear to reference the same person described in a report that the Prefect Pilate wrote to Emperor Tiberius Caesar. The two curious things regarding all of these are: First, is that this official report does not appear in any archive in the City and Pilate appeared to have a long and familiar relationship with this magician and rebel, who was named Joshua, son of Joseph, and was also this “Anointed One” adored by the cultic communities referenced in the letters of the Little Saul of Tarsus.

Princeps, my team’s ancient religions specialist, Aulus Blandius Geta, informs me that this cult of the Way was vile in the extreme; eating human flesh and drinking human blood in foul ceremonies, as well as practicing incestuous marriage and other sexual perversions. Further, the First Empire went to some efforts to suppress the Way and the Iudaeum after their revolt. Geta also informs me that the two suppressed cults somehow continue into this day and are even growing in popularity despite being subject to proscription by the Magistratium of the Pontifax.

All of this, brings forth the questions as to why a library of texts would be written regarding an executed criminal dissident from a minor religious sect on the edge of the First Empire? How this crucified criminal, Joshua Bar Joseph, became the so-called “Anointed One” and the founder of the foul sect of the Way? And why a legate and procurator such as Marcus Antonius Julianus would have such interest in this minor and suppressed cult? Answers to these questions will hopefully yield to further investigations.

Very Respectfully, in Service to the Caesar

Claudius Cantius Viator

Former Questor Legio XII Victrix

Sub-magister of excavations Syria Palaestina

Submitted in the Year of the City 2773

~

Bio:

Patrick S. Baker is a U.S. Army Veteran, and a retired Department of Defense employee. He holds Bachelor degrees in History and Political Science and a Masters in European History. He has been writing professionally since 2013. His nonfiction has appeared in New Myths. His fiction has appeared in Astounding Frontiers and Broadswords and Blasters Magazine as well as the After Avalon and Uncommon Minds anthologies. In his spare time, he plays golf, reads, works out, and enjoys life with his wife, dog, and two cats.

Philosophy Note:

Is history an unchanging and fixed set of events; driven by fate, destiny, or the plan of God? If so, where does free will come into it? Are humans all just “time’s puppets”? Or else, does free will exist in an absolute sense and history propelled forward by the billions and billions of decisions humans, famous and humble, make every day? Or is there a middle course to the flow of human events, where some occurrences are indeed fixed, like the birth of Christ and the founding of Christianity, and how humans respond to such idée fixe of the mind of God where free will is given reign?

Fact & Opinion

“Sokath, His Eyes Uncovered!”, or, Is the Universal Translator A Myth?

by Mina

There are two series which have coloured our collective consciousness when we think of the concept of a universal translator: The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and Star Trek (in all its guises). As a linguistic aside, “hitchhikers” was initially spelled in various different ways (hitch hiker, hitch-hiker, hitchhiker, with or without the apostrophe) until it settled as “The Hitchhikers Guide” in around 2000 (even the abbreviation has various forms: HG2G, tHGttG, HHGTTG, etc.). One wonders how many pitfalls communication may involve if one word can have so many variants within one language.

HG2G began its life in 1978 as a BBC Radio 4 series. This was followed by five novels, with a TV series sandwiched between novels two and three. The author, Douglas Adams, was involved in all of these versions, but they are far from identical to each other, and it is best to see them as a collection of leitmotifs. I am ignoring the 2005 film, which feels like a huge “mistranslation” (even if Adams was briefly involved in it before his death), missing the point on several levels – it is an attempt to turn HG2G into a PC, action story with a romantic subplot, dumbed down to the lowest common denominator, obsessed with Vogons and not at all true to the original radio/TV series or to the early-1980s-Britain pastiche that was so much fun. This sense of fun is very present in one leitmotif, the Babel fish described by the “book” as:

“The Babel fish is small, yellow, leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy received not from its own carrier, but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with nerve signals picked up from the speech centres of the brain which has supplied them. The practical upshot of all this is that if you stick a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language.”

I can always hear the voice in my mind of Peter Jones as the “book” narrating this passage in both the radio and original TV series (the “book” is almost a character in its own right). The description goes on to state that it was a “mind-bogglingly” useful invention and there is a hysterically funny passage on how it was used to disprove the existence of God (incidentally, a whole generation of SF nerds integrated “mind-boggling” and “I don’t give a dingo’s kidneys” into their everyday vocabulary due to this passage). Although the Babel fish makes it possible for the most unprepossessing human to ever travel the galaxy, Arthur Dent, to understand and communicate with aliens, the Babel fish is also dangerous:

“…the poor Babel fish, by effectively removing all barriers to communication between different races and cultures, has caused more and bloodier wars than anything else in the history of creation.”

Star Trek (ST) does not have a “Babel fish” but it does have a “universal translator”. It begins its life in Gene Roddenberry’s original ST as a handheld device and by Star Trek: The Next Generation (STNG), it has been incorporated into the communicator pins all Starfleet personnel wear on their uniforms. All Starfleet vessels are also equipped with a universal translator. Although Enterprise is seen as a poor cousin to other series in the ST canon, it is actually the only series to look in depth into the development of the universal translator that is mostly taken for granted in the series and films that take place “later” (if we look at the ST universe chronologically). In Enterprise, we actually have a skilled linguist on the crew, Ensign Hoshi Sato. We see that new languages have to be added to the universal translator by gathering enough data to build a “translation matrix” (a data construct facilitating the conversion of symbols and sounds from one language to another). And Hoshi Sato does not just use this translation matrix, she improves upon it, inventing the “linguacode” translation matrix to anticipate and speed up the conversion of new and unknown languages. She is a main character whose linguistic skills are used time and again to get the crew out of thorny situations. I cannot stress how unusual this is in an SF (or any) series. We will come back to the idea of “training” a universal translator and translation matrices later when we look at Machine Translation technology today.

Not everyone sees a universal translator as a good thing in the ST universe. There is a scene in ST Discovery between Burnham and a Klingon (Kol), where Burnham sees the universal translator as a means of communication and reaching a peaceful accord, and Kol sees it as another attempt by the Federation to subsume Klingon culture. In fact, my husband was annoyed by the fact that the Klingons in Discovery speak Klingon all the time; I actually rather enjoyed the series’ courage on this point, as subtitling puts off some viewers, but I think Klingons speaking amongst themselves should speak Klingon. Interestingly, Klingon began as gibberish but was later developed into a language by Marc Okrand for ST III: The Search for Spock in 1984 based on some phrases originally developed by the actor James Doohan (Scotty) in ST: The Motion Picture in 1979. Okrand developed a grammar and expanded the vocabulary and, should you be so inclined, you can actually learn Klingon online through the Klingon Language Institute. It is fascinating to see interest from both the producers and viewers in a constructed language yet, at the same time, most of the series hinges on the existence of a universal translator.

The universal translator is shown to have its limits in the STNG episode Darmok. This episode is based on the premise that a universal translator cannot make sense of a language based on abstraction and metaphors, deeply rooted in culture, myth and history. Stranded on a planet with a Tamarian captain Dathon (a Child of Tama), Picard struggles to learn enough about Tamarian metaphors to communicate with Dathon as they face a common enemy. The Tamarian language is described by Troi as a language based on narrative imagery, with reference to the individuals and places which appear in their mytho-historical accounts, much like using “Juliet, on her balcony” as a metaphor for romance. Picard slowly learns to communicate with Dathon who tells him the story of “Darmok and Jalad, at Tanagra”. In exchange, Picard reframes the earth myth of “Gilgamesh and Enkidu, at Uruk” for him. The whole episode is an absolute delight for anyone interested in languages, communication, linguistics, logic and alien thinking. At the end, Picard has learned enough to successfully communicate his regret for the death of Dathon to his first officer and that he and Dathon reached communion or true communication before his death:

TAMARIAN FIRST OFFICER: Zinda! His face black. His eyes red— (expressing anger)

PICARD: —Temarc! The river Temarc. In winter. (asking for him to be silent and listen)

FIRST OFFICER: Darmok? (asking if his Captain’s plan was successful)

PICARD: …and Jalad. At Tanagra. Darmok and Jalad on the ocean. (the plan of two strangers working together to fight a common threat was successful)

FIRST OFFICER (to others, amazed): Sokath! His eyes open! (thank God, you understood)

PICARD (continuing): The beast of Tanagra. Uzani. His army. (shaking his head) Shaka, when the walls fell. (explaining how Dathon died and his regret at Dathon’s death)

FIRST OFFICER: Picard and Dathon at El-Adrel. (a new metaphor enters the Tamarian language to signify successful communication between two races who were strangers to each other)

I have added the “translation” in brackets after each utterance but the lovely thing about this episode is that, having accompanied Picard and Dathon on their journey at El-Adrel, the viewer can understand the entire exchange without help.

In his article in The Atlantic, Ian Bogost feels that the episode has its shortcomings because it tries to limit the language of the Children of Tama to our understanding of how language works, i.e. using our familiar denotative speech methods. Bogost stresses that the Tamarian language works more like poetry or allegories, which replace one thing with another (rather than simply comparing one thing to another like metaphors do). But, he argues, the Children of Tama are not replacing one image with another, they are using the familiar logic (the intention) behind each situation to which they refer to communicate in a manner that is almost computational, i.e. procedural rhetoric takes precedence over verbal and visual rhetoric and dictates their immediate actions. Whether or not you feel that Darmok lends itself to this level of analysis or that Bogost is right or wrong, the whole episode serves to demonstrate a completely different linguistic system and logic.

How close are we to such a universal translator? How effective are Machine Translation (MT) tools? The best-known MT tool is Google Translate, which has moved from being just a Website to also existing in App form for mobile phones, and from just translating text to also translating text contained in images and translating speech. How accurate is it, for example, when translating into English? As a linguist, I can tell you that it depends on the language combination. It copes reasonably well with Romance languages where the syntax is not too dissimilar from English, less well with German where the syntax is quite different, and not at all well with Estonian, where the syntax and logic of the language are very different (and it is a small and rare language with a more limited dataset). MT currently needs to be used with caution and with a clear aim in mind: it can be very useful if you want to know the gist of an article, for example, to run it through an MT tool to obtain a rough translation. However, it is dangerous to rely on an MT of a medical or legal text where precision is vital. MT can sound very convincing until you get a native speaker to check its accuracy, since MT has to cope with languages being flexible and ambiguous, with meaning being derived not just from a word but also its co-text (e.g. collocations) and context (e.g. a word where the meaning changes depending on where you read it, in a novel – “Oh, that’s criminal!”, where I consider your taste in wallpaper a travesty – or an article – “David was arrested for his criminal activities”, where David really did commit a crime).

That said, how MT works has changed over time: early rule-based systems (using lexical, syntactic and semantic rules that hit their limits at the sheer number of exceptions and variables required) were replaced in the 1990s with statistical methods (using a large corpus of examples but which were divorced from context, thus often leading to errors) and, more recently, we have moved towards neural MT (NMT). It is NMT that most resembles the language matrices of the universal translator mentioned in Enterprise and where fiction and reality begin (on a humble scale as yet) to converge. In NMT, the input is a sentence in the source language, with source language grammar, and the output is a sentence in the target language, with target language grammar. In between, we have an algorithm, which is an application of deep learning in which massive datasets of translated sentences are used to “train” a model capable of translating between any two languages. For example, it must be able to cope with all variants of the word “hitchhiker”.

One established NMT structure is the encoder-decoder architecture, composed of two recurrent neural networks (RNNs) used together to create a translation model. Textual data is transformed into numeric form and back into different textual data (its translation):

“An encoder neural network reads and encodes a source sentence into a fixed-length vector. A decoder then outputs a translation from the encoded vector. The whole encoder–decoder system, which consists of the encoder and the decoder for a language pair, is jointly trained to maximize the probability of a correct translation given a source sentence.” (https://machinelearningmastery.com/introduction-neural-machine-translation/)

This architecture has problems with long sequences of text which is why we now have an “encoder-decoder with attention” model. The system learns to only focus on the “relevant” part of the sequence to translate each individual word, so that length is no longer a problem. Google Translate uses this architecture and feeds it with millions of stored sentences. It is a system that still has its problems, however: the training and inferences speed is still too slow, it can be ineffective dealing with rarer words (it struggles with large vocabularies and a myriad of contexts) and it sometimes fails to translate a word it does not recognise, simply leaving the source-language word in the target-language sentence. MT initially focused mainly on the written word, but work is now being done on the spoken word as well.

So is a universal translator possible in our world? (N)MT will continue to improve, that is for sure. Whether it can ever fully replace the need for a human linguist remains to be seen. It cannot yet do what is one of our biggest strengths of the human mind: it cannot make inferences and assumptions based on context, background knowledge, culture and an instinct for which rules can be broken and which not. It cannot spot mistakes, decipher bad style or pick up nuances of embedded, deeper meanings. MT is based on algorithms and probability, it works with separate units (numeric representations of words) and even with the development of “attention” and “deep learning”, it cannot yet get a quick overview when examining a large sequence of units or adjust to circumstances when making a decision. It is not yet truly flexible. It is possible that one day, computers will imitate the way the human mind makes connections (and recreates the intention of the communication in the source language in the target language) so closely that we will not be able to tell the difference. The operative word is imitate: we are still a long way from a “sentient” computer able to think autonomously rather than applying a set of complex mathematical rules. That does not mean we will never get there but we are not yet at a point where the computer can translate the full meaning of “Picard and Dathon at El-Adrel” into other languages.

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Bio:

Mina is a translator by day, an insomniac by night. Reading Asimov’s robot stories and Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids at age eleven may have permanently warped her view of the universe. She publishes essays in Sci Phi Journal as well as “flash” fiction on speculative sci-fi websites and hopes to work her way up to a novella or even a novel some day.

Fact & Opinion

Sailing The Seas Of Time: What If We Took Alternative History Seriously?

by Jim Clarke

Let’s sail back in time for a moment, to the first century AD. Here we find Livy at work on his one great historical text, Ab Urbe Condita, which he intended as a history of Rome from its foundation to his time of writing, when it had become an empire under Augustus. Primarily it is a history of the Roman Republican era therefore, but as with historians then and now, Livy was prone to the occasional digression.

In Book IX, despite insisting that he wished “to digress no more than is necessary from the order of the narrative”, he spends a considerable time considering the question, “What would have been the results for Rome if she had been engaged in war with Alexander?” Livy, being a good patriotic Roman, and having spent his entire life during one of its peaks in power, assures us that Rome would have resisted the man known as Conqueror of the World.

Let’s then follow Livy back to the fourth century BC. Early in the century we find Rome under siege from the Gauls, who sacked the city and besieged the inner capitol for seven months, before being bribed to leave. By the time Alexander was born, in 356 BC, the Gauls were still raiding Latium, modern Lazio, the province in which Rome is located.

It’s worth remembering, too, that Alexander didn’t hang about. He was 20 years old when he assumed the throne of Macedonia. By that time Rome was slowly rebuilding from the Celtic Gaul invasions and beginning to retake towns in Latium and Etruria it had previously held. As Alexander embarked on his extraordinary 12-year career of conquest, Rome was embroiled in its own backyard, fighting the Samnites in a series of wars in Campania.

When Alexander died, aged 32, in the palace of Nebuchadnezzar II in Babylon, having routed the Persians, sacked Persepolis, conquered Egypt, founded the biggest city in the world, crossed the Hindu Kush and taken Samarkand, Rome was still battling the Samnites. It was even humiliated by them in 321 BC at the Battle of the Claudine Forks. This is the force Livy would have us believe would have defeated the Philosopher King. It is not an especially plausible claim, and one wonders what might have happened in reality had Alexander turned West from his Persian campaign rather than continuing into Asia.

It is, in short, one of those apparent hinges of history, a moment in time around which the entirety of the subsequent timeline appears to be contingent. What would our world look like had Alexander taken Rome 23 centuries ago, and had he lived long enough to consolidate a Macedonian empire of the Mediterranean? Livy, by inviting such speculation, bears the honour of inventing alternative history.

Alt-history today has an uneasy relationship with science fiction more generally, though is generally lazily subsumed within its capacious borders. Nevertheless, alt-history has some characteristics which set it apart, not least of which is its interdisciplinary relationship with history, wherein it is known primarily as counterfactual history, or economics, wherein it becomes cliometrics.

Counterfactual history functions as a historiographic approach, restricting itself to hypothetical alternatives to real events, and aims to measure or examine the importance of those events by speculating on the effect of removing or changing them. Cliometrics similarly examines such hypotheticals, but from the perspective of measuring economic, industrial or fiscal impact, as in Robert Fogel’s seminal Railroads and America’s Economic Growth (1964), which speculated that improved canals and roads would have filled the gap economically had there been no railroads.

It may be that the relationship with SF stemmed from the sheer volume of alt-histories written by SF writers in the early to mid-twentieth century, but in fact it has always appealed as a mode of writing to the literati, too. SF historian and novelist Adam Roberts has identified Louis-Napoléon Geoffroy’s 1841 Apocryphal Napoleon as a seminal text in the genre, and is right to do so for a number of reasons, not the least of which is to underline the fact that uchronic speculation extends far beyond the Anglophone world. Among English-speaking writers alone, however, we can trace the tradition back to Nathaniel Hawthorne, and forward to notables like George Steiner, Kingsley Amis, Gore Vidal, Ian McEwan, Peter Ackroyd, and Jonathan Lethem.

As a speculative mode it is not restricted to genre any more than it is to language. It has attracted playwrights such as Noel Coward, Tom Stoppard and Michael Frayn, generated TV and cinema productions, and inspired a whole constellation of journalists, myself included. Intriguingly, one can trace an upswing in counterfactual reportage to the disputed election of George W. Bush in the US Presidential election in 2000, which literally and figuratively hinged on the validity of chads on votes cast in Florida. As a result, journalists rushed to hypothesise what an Al Gore presidency might have looked like, especially in light of the 9/11 attacks soon afterwards, as well as Gore’s noted involvement in environmental causes.

In fact, the 21^st century to date might well be considered a high point for uchronia. Journalistic what-if articles proliferated vastly, to the extent that they now appear in publications like Guitar World. And such is the splintering of political perspectives globally that the concept of alternative facts, as accidentally introduced by US Presidential Counsellor Kellyanne Conway in 2017, seems almost to have superseded the concept of alternative histories.

Uchronic conditionality is now seeping into our present. It manifests as the secret histories and conspiracy theories to which so many are beholden, and is deconstructing and decentring any coherent understanding of world events. Perhaps the best example of this is Vladislav Surkov, advisor to Russia’s President Putin, whose background as an absurdist theatre director has enabled him to reconstruct Russia’s political and public sphere as one large absurdist theatrical performance.

We can see this trend in current alt-histories. William Gibson’s Agency (2020)is an allohistorical sequel to The Peripheral in which Hilary is President and Brexit never happened. There is a certain element of wish fulfilment in such narratives of course, but it also expresses what Jacques Derrida (and later Mark Fisher) referred to as hauntology, the experience of being haunted by futures which did not occur.

Hauntology now saturates our present, as a result of pervasive alternate histories warring over the past. Like time travellers seeking to change the course of events, today’s political class seek to impose their narratives, myths and ideologies upon previous events, up to and including overt lying. As a result, journals like The Atlantic openly speculate whether Americans in particular are now living in an “alternative” history, while physicists at CERN have been forced to issue denials of the widely believed rumour that their experiments with the Large Hadron Collider projected us into an alternative reality. (Speaking personally, I feel that if we are in an alternative timeline, the first evidence of it was Leicester City winning the EPL soccer title in 2016.)

If counterfactual history and journalism seeks to review the present in light of past contingencies, thereby exploring roads not taken in order to re-examine the significance of events which did occur, SF is not so constrained. Murray Leinster’s seminal story “Sidewise in Time” (1934) introduced to a popular audience the concept of the multiverse, an ontology in which all possible timelines in some sense co-exist and could hypothetically influence one another. This idea had been depicted earlier, not least in HG Wells’s A Modern Utopia (1903), but not to the extent that Leinster mined the idea, with Roman soldiers appearing in Missouri, or ships containing Vikings or Tsarist Russians approaching the US coastline.

Multiversality and parallel universes have remained a popular SF trope, though in the vast majority of instances, authors prefer to present a single variant, a narrative set in a world with a Jonbar point, or moment of deviation from our own recorded history. Like historians, SF authors have tended to gravitate to deviations which explore political or military alternatives to recorded events, though they are also more prone than historians to what we might call the Carlylean ‘big man’ theory of history, given fiction’s need for protagonists.

A spectrum exists in alt-histories, ranging from the great man narratives, such as those which pivot around the existence or otherwise of Jesus Christ or Hitler, and its opposite, which posits a history predicated on huge social and historical movements and trends. Counterfactual historians gravitate much more commonly towards the latter. SF has the additional freedom to collide timelines as in Leinster’s story, and even introduce fantastic elements, such as the ongoing existence of dinosaurs, or alien visitations, or have time travellers seek to interfere with timelines.

In examining alt-histories, certain themes come up again and again, exposing a range of cultural anxieties. Probably by far the most common hypothetical is a Nazi victory in WW2, with very mainstream novels such as Fatherland or Dominion sitting comfortably alongside much more science-fictional treatments like The Man in the High Castle. This theme has not only crossed into factual TV (the BBC have addressed it at least twice) but also can be found in fiction from nations such as Spain, Russia, France, Norway, Israel, and further afield.

Other major streams of alt-history seek to undo or sustain predominant cultural forces in global history. There is a whole sub-genre of uchronia in which Christianity, for some reason, fails to take root, or Christ does not exist. Another fantasises about the persistence of the Roman empire, complete with slavery and crucifixion, into the modern era. A latent fear of Islam has perhaps inspired some of the many narratives in which Charles Martel or Charlemagne are not victorious, or in which the Moors retain Spain or the Ottomans take Vienna.

Some concerns are more local and specific. American alt-histories heavily feature Confederate victory in the Civil War. One of the earliest such speculations was a counterfactual written by Winston Churchill. Indeed, prolific uchronist Harry Turtledove must have written at least a dozen, and an entire volume on Alternative Battles of Gettysburg exists. American alt-history also features concerns over its own existence, featuring timelines in which the USA does not exist, either because it became Amerindian, or Aztec, or Chinese or Viking instead, or because the American Revolution never occurred. Another common trope of a more utopian bent is John F. Kennedy surviving assassination and the subsequent extension of his presidency, a form which expresses very similar aspirations as later journalistic treatments of an Al Gore presidency.

Cultural specificity extends further. In addition to Nazi domination fears, English alt-histories feature communist regimes or isolation in the face of a unified Europe. French alt-histories dream of Napoleonic victories, global domination or German invasion, Nazi or otherwise. Russian ones fantasise about Tsarist or White Russian defeat of the Bolsheviks. Israeli ones imagine defeating Rome at Masada, alternatively located homelands or defeat in the Six Day War. Polish ones have nightmares of Soviet takeover (as do the Swedes and Finns), and Brazilian ones dream of alternative World Cup soccer results.

Perhaps due to its linguistic isolation, Hungarian alt-history is intriguingly diverse, iterating a wide range of common uchronic tropes including the earliest known Nazi victory uchronia in global literature, as well as examples of Catholic hegemony and national success in revolutions, but also features uniquely Magyar visions, such as the existence of a Hungarian fascist African colony in a Nazi-dominated world. Ádám Gerencsér’s authoritative article delineates this particular national progression through alternative timelines.

The historical fantasies of different cultures thus express both latent societal anxieties and utopian aspirations left unfulfilled. Only by taking such a macro-view are the real secret histories unveiled. The prevalence of alt-histories which unwrite the Reformation, depicting theocratic global oppression by the Vatican, identify Anglophone SF’s generic anxiety about Catholicism in particular, and revelatory forms of knowledge in general, as I’ve written previously.

What is interesting in relation to this vast welter of alternative histories is the relative lack of identity politics or marginalised identities in uchronic fiction. Almost none deal with, for example, the idea of decriminalisation of homosexuality in earlier decades or centuries. And while African-American concerns, often manifested in terms of earlier slavery emancipation or civil rights, can often be found, Africa itself as a geographic region and collection of cultures remains as politically marginalised and economically depressed in alternative timelines as it is in our own. Afrofuturism may be one of the most vibrant of recent SF sub-genres, but its ideas of a black imaginary do not appear to have yet manifested significantly in terms of alt-histories relating to African success.

Within SF, which has historically been a significantly male-dominated enterprise, alt-history seems to be an exceptionally male interest, with few female creators operating in the mode. Nevertheless, feminist concerns have fared marginally better. One intriguing phenomenon is the significance of Hilary Rodham Clinton in such narratives. The protagonist of Rodham, last year’s alt-history by Curtis Sittenfeld, in which she forges her own legal and political career without Bill, is simultaneously the repository of other aspirations, such as Pamela Sargent’s vision of Hilary as astronaut, or David Bean’s more prosaic imagining of her as presidential candidate in 2008 instead of Barack Obama.

Mike Resnick’s excellent collection Alternative Presidents envisages not one but two separate female presidents in the 19^th century, ushering in a much earlier era of universal suffrage and female emancipation. And back in 1983, Neil Ferguson imagined an alt-history which features Marilyn Monroe as president.

Beyond US politics, feminist alt-histories tend towards the darker end of uchronic possibilities. Michael Grant’s Soldier Girl series imagines a universal draft during the Second World War, for example. Joanna Russ’s highly influential The Female Man (1975) goes further again, including a world in which a plague wiped out men, thus leading to female hegemony and autonomy. This likely influenced the creation of Fumi Yoshinaga’s Ōoku, a long-running manga series in which Japanese women lead politics and industry following the death of most men from a plague during the Tokugawa shogunate in the 17^th century.

Russ’s novel, of course, is on the cusp of alt-history and slipstream, as it features both alternative timelines (Jeanine comes from a world where the Great Depression never ended) and other worlds. Its multiversal hybridity is what permits Russ to explore a multiplicity of gender-related encounters, and by extension identify potential directions in our own world.

The lack of gay or African alt-histories may in fact be because, like Russ, authors have found it preferable to explore hypotheticals in a slipstream rather than strictly uchronic mode. Certainly, Grace Dillon has written about Native American slipstream narratives which date back to Gerald Vizenor’s reconstruction of George Custer from hero to imperialist in a narrative featuring literal rebirths.

William Faulkner is believed to have once said that “the stupidest words in the language are ‘What if?’”, but it is worth recalling that all fiction is, in a sense, an exploration of hypotheticals, including his own. The inherent appeal of alt-history is in part the guilty pleasure of exploring the roads not taken, but it is also, as historians and economists have found, a useful mode of inquiry as well as creativity.

In imagining the nightmare of living in a victorious global Reich, we become better equipped to understand both the contingencies which led to its rise to power, and the contingencies which defeated it. We are also reminded of the dystopian potential in our own past which was averted. Similarly, the utopian potential of alt-history, the reminder that we could have brought ourselves to a better present, refocuses us on the fact that the future starts today, and as Hemingway once wrote, “what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today.”

Samantha Mills once wrote a wonderful short story, entitled “Strange Waters”, which was not an alt-history but rather was set on a planet where the ocean is temporal and keeps washing the protagonist’s fishing boat up in the same port but in different years. Alt-history is our own version of her boat in strange waters, allowing us to sail the seas of time back to Livy, to Alexander, back even to timelines in which Neanderthals rather than we Homo Sapiens inherited the earth.

Alt-history reinforces the miraculous contingency of our existences, perhaps best expressed by Doctor Manhattan in Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ Watchmen (1986),when the godlike superhero realises that the likelihood of his former lover Laurie’s very existence is so preposterous that it counts as a “thermodynamic miracle”, and if her existence is so miraculously contingent, then so is that of all humanity.

There is of course a frisson in envisaging our own destruction, especially if it extends to our entire society or culture or way of being. This is the warning of alt-history, that latent in our present are the dark pasts we have averted. But equally latent are the glorious utopian presents we failed to realise. From those we can take comfort and inspiration. And there is always the possibility, expressed in fictions like The Man in the High Castle or R.A. Lafferty’s clever short story “The Three Armageddons of Enniscorthy Sweeny” (1977), that the alternative histories we can imagine may in some way ultimately affect our own present and futures.

In such reflexive alt-histories, multiversal timelines intersect and clash. This offers us a way of thinking ourselves out of our own contemporary impasse, where alternate timelines seem to exist in the realities described by opposing politicians, a phenomenon sometimes referred to as “one screen, two movies”. Often, as in Stephen Baxter’s Time’s Tapestry series or Keith William Andrews’s Freedom’s Rangers novels, it seems as if warring factions are trying to delete one another, and their perspectives, from history itself. And, as in Joanna Russ’s novel or The Man in the High Castle, SF alt-histories suggest that what we might consider to be psychosis may actually transpire to be a mode of enlightenment.

By considering the contingency of our own history, and questioning consensus narratives, especially echo chamber consensuses, we need not plunge into the morass of fake secret histories or conspiracy theories. Instead, alt-history teaches us how to question our own assumptions about our centrality in our own histories, and attain the critical distance to examine our timeline objectively. What we find offensive or anxious about alt-histories can help reveal what people from another timeline might find appalling about our own. This is a route to a better future, though we will have to navigate choppy and strange waters to get there.

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Further Reading

Stephen Baxter, Time’s Tapestry series, 2006 onwards.

Philip K. Dick, The Man in the High Castle, 1962.

Grace Dillon, ed., Walking the Clouds: An Anthology of Indigenous Science Fiction, 2012.

Robert Fogel, Railroads and America’s Economic Growth,1964.

William Gibson, Agency, 2020.

Louis-Napoléon Geoffroy, Apocryphal Napoleon, 1841.

Michael Grant’s Soldier Girl series, 2016 onwards.

Robert Harris, Fatherland, 1992.

Karen Hellekson, The Alternate History: Refiguring Historical Time, 2001.

R.A. Lafferty, “The Three Armageddons of Enniscorthy Sweeny”, 1977.

Murray Leinster,“Sidewise in Time”, 1934.

Livy, Ab Urbe Condita.

Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, Watchmen, 1986-7.

Glyn Morgan and Charul Palmer Patel, eds., Sideways in Time: Critical Essays on Alternate History Fiction, 2019.

Salvador Murguia, ed., Trumping Truth: Essays on the Destructive Power of “Alternative Facts”, 2019.

Mike Resnick, ed., Alternative Presidents, 1992.

Joanna Russ, The Female Man, 1975.

C.J. Sansom, Dominion, 2012.

Curtis Sittenfeld, Rodham, 2020.

J.C. Squire, ed., If It Had Happened Otherwise, 1931 (Contains Churchill’s alt-Gettysburg, as well as uchronias by G.K. Chesterton, Hillaire Belloc and Andre Maurois).

Brian M. Thomsen and Martin H. Greenberg, eds., Alternate Gettysburgs, 2002.

Gerald Vizenor, “Custer on the Slipstream”, 1978.

H.G. Wells, A Modern Utopia, 1903.

Fumi Yoshinaga, Ōoku, 2005 onwards.

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Bio:

Jim Clarke has taught literature at universities in Ireland, the UK and Belarus. He is the author of The Aesthetics of Anthony Burgess (2017) and Science Fiction and Catholicism (2019), and blogs at www.jimclarke.net. He has written on Anthony Burgess, JG Ballard, Iain M. Banks and many other SF authors, and is also co-investigator of the Ponying the Slovos project, which explores how invented literary languages function in translation and adaptation: https://ponyingtheslovos.coventry.domains

The International Bibliography of Fictional Non-Fiction

An evolving reference list of fictional non-fiction
(FNF, also known as speculative documentary fiction),
mainly in English and Romance languages, since the 19th century.

Compilation by Mariano Martín Rodríguez

Note: The present document, last updated in December 2020, is subject to further expansion. It currently covers mainly English and Romance languages. Readers are encouraged to suggest additional works for inclusion.

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Fictions of Non-Fiction: An Overview of Factual Discursive Genres in Science Fiction.

‘Fictional non-fiction’ designates fictional texts written as if they were factual accounts. In science fiction, the rhetoric of “factual” scientific discourse has been widely applied to confer to its fictional texts an appearance of scientific rationality and factuality. This kind of scientific “fictional non-fiction” encompasses fantastic works which methodically and consistently present the standard rhetorical features of real-world scientific discourses and practice. Their literariness is achieved mostly through the fictionalisation of the content, while their language adheres closely to the highly formalised, uniform, descriptive and seemingly objective style common in natural, formal or social sciences in modern times. Each science, however, usually has its own jargon and distinct discourse, which is reflected in ‘fictional non-fiction’. Among these discourses, some have been relatively popular in (science) fiction. The formal sciences have inspired, for example, imaginary languages, such as Orwell’s Newspeak. The natural sciences have been exploited through fictional spoof papers, such as Asimov’s ‘thiotimoline’ surveys. Regarding the human sciences, historiographical writing has been applied to imaginary histories (e.g, Wells’ The Shape of Things to Come). Actual ethnographic accounts have offered a model for world-building in the descriptive mode (Borges, etc.) whereas the discourse of philology has served to underpin the mock factuality of fantastic books (Lovecraft’s Necronomicon). A text conflating the concepts and rhetoric of these three main types of science using the framework of a model scientific paper is Le Guin’s “‘The Author of the Acacia Seeds’ and Other Extracts from the Journal of the Association of Therolinguistics.” This is a significant piece of “science fiction,” both for its “fictional” contents and its “scientific” rhetoric, illustrating the value of ‘fictional non-fiction’ as a set of formal genres specially linked to science fiction, past and present.

[]: collections of stand-alone texts.

//: It separates different works by the same author.

/: It separates different versions of the same work.

Underlined works: read works.

Unless otherwise specified, even unread works have been verified regarding their genre.

FICTIONAL HISTORIOGRAPHY

Historiography as Fiction, Fiction as History: An Overview of the Use of Historiographical Discourse to Narrate Possible Futures since the 19^th Century.

The double dimension —documentary and artistic—– of historiographical writing has been virtually overshadowed by the emphasis on the scientific nature of the discipline and its subsequent exclusion from the literary canon from the nineteenth century onwards. Fictional or imaginary history then appeared as a way to safeguard the literariness of history as a formal genre, using the rhetorical discourse of historiography to achieve an effect of historicity in texts that often have a satirical or cautionary intent. Nevertheless, most of them convey, first of all, considerations on the evolution of humanity and on its history as seen from a future perspective: in this kind of prospective historiography, future historians addressing their contemporary readership narrate their past history, which is our future one. By eschewing the narrative form of the novel and adopting instead that of historiography, these writers also broaden the temporality of historical consciousness: future events become as actual as any past ones, and they are surveyed following the historical method, with their fictionality hidden under the cloak of factual discourse. Moreover, the historical laws posited by the authors are shown in action in the future as well. Fictional historiography is not only literature, but also history —prospective history. Examples of this genre are relatively abundant in modern literatures. As literary products, most of them follow a similar writing method: the one prevalent in historiography of the age when they were produced. As historical reflections, they usually have widely different approaches on the future course of humankind and on the forces that drive it along historical time, from past to future.

*: not verified.

PROSPECTIVE OR FUTURE HISTORY

– Kylas Chunder DUTT (1817-?), “A Journal of Forty-Eight Hours of the Year 1945” (1835).

– Shoshee Chunder DUTT (1824-1886), “The Republic of Orissá: A Page from the Annals of the Twentieth Century” (1845), in [Bengaliana: A Dish of Rice and Curry, and Other Indigestible Ingredients] (1877).

– History of the Sudden and Terrible Invasion of England by the French in the Month of May, 1852 (1851).

– *Imaginary History of the Next Thirty Years (1857).

– Frederick GALE, The History of the British Revolution of 1867 (1867).

– Abraham HAYWARD (1801-1884), “The Second Armada” (1871).

– Motly Ranke McCAULEY, *Chapters from Future History: The Battle of Berlin (1871).

– P. [Pierton] W. DOONER (1844-1907?), Last Days of the Republic (1880).

– Lorelle, *“The Battle of Wabash” (1880).

– William Delisle HAY, Three Hundred Years Hence (1881).

– Lang Tung, The Decline and Fall of the British Empire (1881).

– The Re-Conquest of Ireland, A.D. 1895 (1881).

– Robert WOLTOR, A Short and Truthful History of the Taking of California and Oregon by the Chinese in the Year A.D. 1899 (1882).

– Ralph Centennius, The Dominion in 1983 (1883).

– The Battle of the Moy; or, How Ireland Gained Her Independence, 1892-1894 (1883).

– Arthur Montagu BROOKFIELD (1853-1940), Simiocracy (1884).

– Posteritas, The Siege of London (1884).

– Henry Stanely COVERDALE, The Fall of the Great Republic (1886-88) (1885)

– William Laird CLOWES (1856-1905), and Commander C. N. ROBINSON, The Great Naval War of 1887: an Account of an Imaginary Engagement (1886).

– E. W. (Elizabeth WATERHOUSE, 1834-1918), The Island of Anarchy: A Fragment of History in the 20th Century (1887).

– Samuel BARTON, The Battle of the Swash and the Capture of Canada (1888).

– Ambrose BIERCE (1842-¿1914?), “The Fall of the Republic: An Article from a “Court Journal” of the Thirty-First Century” (1888) / “The Ashes of the Beacon: An Historical Monograph Written in 4930” (1905).

– Frank Richard STOCKTON (1834-1902), The Great War Syndicate (1889).

– Hugh Grattan DONNELLY (1850-1931), The Stricken Nation (1890).

– Alexander DUNBAR, “Scottish Home Rule” (1890).

– A. Nelson SEAFORTH (Philip Howard Colomb, 1831-1899), The Last Great Naval War (1891) // et al., The Great War of 189- (1893).

– William Ward CRANE, “The Year 1899” (1893).

– Sydney EARDLEY-WILMOT (1847-1929), The Next Naval War (1894).

– Henry LAZARUS, The English Revolution of the Twentieth Century (1894).

– Clarendon MACAULAY (Walter Marsham Adams, 1838-), *The Carving of Turkey: A Chapter of European History from Sources Hitherto Unpublished (1894).

– John Henry PALMER, The Invasion of New York, or, How Hawaii Was Annexed (1897).

– Frederick Upham ADAMS (1859-1921), President John Smith (1897).

– A Diplomat, The Rise and Fall of the United States (1898).

– Charles GLEIG (1862-), When All Men Starve (1898).

– H. [Henry] PEREIRA-MENDES (1857-1937), Looking Ahead (1899).

– Arthur BIRD, Looking Forward (1899).

– Mark TWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens, 1835-1910), “History 1,000 Years from Now” [1901], in [Fables of Man] (1972).

– C. [Charles] W. [William] WOOLDRIDGE (1847-1908), Perfecting the Earth (1902).

– Elliot Evan MILL, The Decline and Fall of the British Empire (1905).

– William LE QUEUX (1864-1927) (con H. [Herbert] W. [Wrigley] WILSON, 1866-1940), The Invasion of 1910 (1906).

– Patrick VAUX, Lionel YEXLEY, *When the Eagle Flies Seaward (1907).

– Marsden MANSON (1850-1931), The Yellow Peril in Action (1907).

– Henry Dwight SEDGWICK (1861-1957), “The Coup d’État of 1961” (1908).

– Jack LONDON (John London, 1876-1916), “Goliah”, in [Revolution and Other Essays] (1910) // “The Unparalleled Invasion” (1910), in [The Strength of the Strong] (1911).

– Ronald A. KNOX (1888-1957), “The New Sin” (1920), in [Essays in Satire] (1928).

– Hamilton CRAIG, *A Hazard at Hansard: The Speech from the Throne, Ottawa, Fourth August, 2014 (1925).

– H. [Hector] C. [Charles] BYWATER (1884-1940), The Great Pacific War (1925).

– J. [John] B. [Burdon] S. [Sanderson] HALDANE (1892-1964), “The Last Judgment”, in [Possible Worlds] (1927).

– Olaf STAPLEDON (1886-1950), Last and First Men (1930) // Darkness and the Light (1942).

– L. [Leopold] S. [Stanley] AMERY (1873-1955), “The Era of the Press Cæsars” (1931), in [The Stranger of the Ulysses] (1934).

– H. [Herbert] G. [George] WELLS (1866-1946), The Shape of Things to Come (1933).

– Laurence MANNING (1899-1972), “The Living Galaxy” (1934).

– Arthur KEPPEL-JONES (1909-1996), When Smuts Goes (1947).

– George Bernard SHAW (1856-1950), “Fourth Fable”, in [Farfetched Fables] (1950).

– William TENN (Philip Klass, 1920-2010), “Null-P” (1951), in [The Wooden Star] (1968).

– Anthony BOUCHER (1911-1968), “The Ambassadors” (1952).

– Lion MULLER, “The Available Data on the Worp Reaction” (1953).

– John ATKINS (1916-2009), Tomorrow Revealed (1955).

– R. [Reginald] C. [Charles] CHURCHILL (1916-), A Short History of the Future (1955).

– Fredric BROWN (1906-1972), “Expedition” (1957), “Great Lost Discoveries”, in [Nightmares and Geezenstacks] (1962).

– Michael YOUNG (1915-2002), The Rise of the Meritocracy (1958).

– Bertrand RUSSELL (1872-1970), “Eisenhower’s Nightmare: The McCarthy-Malenkov Pact”, in [Nightmares of Eminent Persons and Other Stories] (1954) // “Planetary Effulgence” (1959), “The Misfortune of Being Out of Date”, in [Parables] (1962).

– Edgar PANGBORN (1909-1976), “The Good Neighbors” (1960), in [Good Neighbors and Other Strangers] (1972).

– Leo SZILARD (1898-1964), “The Voice of the Dolphins”, in [The Voice of the Dolphins] (1961).

– Garry ALLIGHAM (1895-1977), Verwoerd – The End (1961).

– Monsanto INC, “The Desolate Year” (1962).

– Ian DRUMMOND, “The Great Gold Crisis of 2018: The Gold Goes Ouest” (1970).

– William THOMPSON, “2020 Hindsight” (1970).

– William NICHOLS, “Canada – World Melting Pot” (1970).

– Gregory BAUM, “A New Renaissance?” (1970).

– Leonard SHIFRIN, “The Withering Away of Welfare” (1970).

– Philip WYLIE (1902-1971), “Selections from 1975: Date of No Return”, in The End of the Dream (1972).

– J. [James] G. [Graham] BALLARD (1930-2009), “The Greatest Television Show on Earth” (1972), “The Life and Death of God” (1976), “The Largest Theme Park in the World” (1989), “The Message from Mars” (1992), in [The Complete Short Stories] (2001).

– T. [Thomas] L. SHERRED (1915-1985), “Bounty” (1972).

– Stan GOLDSTEIN; Fred GOLDSTEIN, Star Trek Spaceflight Chronology 1980-2188 (1980).

– John HACKETT (1910-1997), The Third World War (1978) / The Third World War: The Untold Story (1982).

– Christopher CHERNIAK, “The Riddle of the Universe and Its Solution” (1978).

– John BRADLEY, The Illustrated History of War World Three (1982).

– Margaret ATWOOD (1939-), “Historical Notes on The Handmaid’s Tale”, in The Handmaid’s Tale (1985).

– Brian STABLEFORD (1948-); David LANGFORD (1953-), The Third Millennium: A History of the World AD 2000-3000 (1985).

– Bruce STERLING (1954-), “Our Neural Chernobyl” (1988), in [Globalhead] (1992).

– W. [Walter] Warren WAGAR (1932-2004), A Short History of the Future (1989/1992/1999).

– Ton BARNARD (Deon GELDENHUYS), South Africa 1994-2004 (1991).

– Denise OKUDA, Michael OKUDA, Star Trek Chronology (1993).

– Ted CHIANG (1967-), “The Evolution of Human Science” (2000), in [Stories of Your Life and Others] (2002).

– Daniel WALLACE, Kevin J. ANDERSON (1962-), Star Wars: The Essential Chronology / Star Wars: The New Essential Chronology (2000/2005).

– Gregory BENFORD (1941-), “Applied Mathematical Theology” (2006), in [Anomalies] (2012).

– James KRASKA, “How the United States Lost the Naval War of 2015” (2010).

– Naomi ORESKES (1958-); Erik M. CONWAY (1965-), The Collapse of Western Civilization (2014).

– Berilo NEVES (1899-1974), “O divórcio de Adão e Eva”, “A derrota de Marte”, in [A Mulher e o Diabo] (1931).

– Antônio GOMES NETO (1904-1937), “O país que ninguém sonhou”, in [A Vida Eterna] (1932).

– António de MACEDO (1931-2017), “As baratas morrem de costas” (1999), in [O Cipreste Apaixonado] (2000).

– Arturo LEZCANO (1939-), “Utopia” (1991), in [Os dados de Deus] (1994).

– Nilo María FABRA (1843-1903), “El desastre de Inglaterra in 1910”, in [Por los espacios imaginarios (con escalas in la Tierra)] (1885) // “La guerra de España con los Estados Unidos”, in [Presente y futuro] (1897) // “La Yankeelandia. Geografía e Historia en el siglo XXIV” (1898).

– Justo S. [Sanjurjo] LÓPEZ DE GOMARA (1859-1923), “La ciudad del siglo XXX”, in [Locuras humanas] (1886).

– Ignacio FOTHERINGHAM (1842-1925), Historia de lo que no ha sucedido. La guerra de 1895-96 (como I. Ache Effe, 1894).

– Manuel MONTERO Y RAPALLO (1845-1907), “La batalla naval de Manila” (1896).

– Pío BAROJA (1872-1956), “La república del año 8 y la intervención del año 12” (1903).

– Francisco NAVARRO LEDESMA (1869-1905), “Las muertes futuras: El hippoide” (1904) // “Heterobulia” (1905).

– Amado NERVO (Juan Crisóstomo RUIZ, 1870-1919), “La última guerra”, in [Almas que pasan] (1906).

– Domingo CIRICI VENTALLÓ (1876-1917); José ARRUFAT MESTRES, La república española en 191… (1911).

– Miguel de UNAMUNO (1864-1936), “¡Viva la introyección!”, in [El espejo de la muerte] (1913).

– Marcos Rafael BLANCO BELMONTE (1871-1936), “El ocaso de la Humanidad” (1918).

– Manuel CHAVES NOGALES (1897-1944), “El desastroso fin de la humanidad”, in [Narraciones maravillosas y biografías ejemplares de algunos grandes hombres humildes y desconocidos] (1920).

– Julio GARMENDIA (1898-1977), “Cuando pasen 3.000 años más…” (1923) // “La máquina de hacer ¡pu! ¡pu! ¡puuu!”, in [La hoja que no había caído en su otoño] (1979).

– Enrique MÉNDEZ CALZADA (1898-1940), “La sublevación de las máquinas”, “La isla del último borracho”, “Triste historia del papa Inocencio Veintinueve”, in [Abdicación de Jehová y otras patrañas] (1929).

– Pablo PALACIO (1906-1947), “Comentario del año 1957” (1932).

– Julio CORTÁZAR (1914-1984), “Los limpiadores de estrellas” [1942], in [La otra orilla] ([1945] 1995).

– Tomás BORRÁS (1891-1976), “Algo faltaba” (como Voracs Tamas), in [Antología de los Borrases] (1950).

– Antonio CASTRO LEAL (1896-1981), “Una historia del siglo XX” (1955), in [El laurel de San Lorenzo] (1959).

– Jorge CAMPOS (Jorge Renales Fernández, 1916-1983), “La otra luna” (1965), “La bomba del pequeño país” (1973), in [Bombas, astros y otras lejanías] (1992).

– Fernando QUIÑONES (1930-1998), “Un texto escolar sobre OH”, in [La guerra, el mar y otros excesos] (1966).

– Francisco GARCÍA PAVÓN (1919-1989), “El mundo transparente”, in [La guerra de los dos mil años] (1967).

– Ramón SIERRA [BUSTAMANTE] (1898-1988), Anales de la IV República Española (1967).

– Joaquín Esteban PERRUCA (1926-1989), “El deshielo”, “Los profetas”, in [Cuentos del último día] (1973).

– Rafael LLOPIS (1933-), “Ejercicio de un colegial del futuro” (1978).

– René AVILÉS FABILA (1940-2016), “Las gorgonas o del vanguardismo en el arte”, “Hacia el fin del mundo”, “Milagros televisados”, “Reportaje de un invento extraordinario o la decadencia de los EUA”, in [Hacia el fin del mundo] (1969) and [Fantasías en carrusel] (1978/1995/2001) // “Megalópolis”, in [Los oficios perdidos] (1983) and [Fantasías en carrusel] (1995/2001).

– J. [Juan] J. [José] BENÍTEZ (1946-), “Crónica de pasado mañana”, in [Sueños] (1982).

– Domingo SANTOS (Pedro Domingo Mutiñó, 1941-2018), “El síndrome de Lot”, in [No lejos de la Tierra] (1986).

– José FERRATER MORA (1912-1991), “Reivindicación de Babel” (1991).

– Nuria AMAT (1950-), “Nuevo mundo”, in [Monstruos] (1991).

– José CUERVO ÁLVAREZ (1962-), “Tercer milenio: multinacional, energía y migración” (1999).

– Antonio RODRÍGUEZ ALMODÓVAR (1941-), “Playas año 3000” (2002), in [Un país al sur] (2004).

– Carlos SÁIZ CIDONCHA (1939-2018), Historia del futuro (2004).

– Rafael L. BARDAJÍ, “Iberia 2040” (2005).

– Juan IBARRONDO (1962-), Retazos de la red (2005).

– Manuel VILAS (1962-), “Primer viaje a la fotosfera del Sol”, in [España] (2008).

– Rodolfo MARTÍNEZ (1965-), “Una cronología de Drímar”, in [Cabos sueltos] (2010).

– Juan Antonio FERNÁNDEZ MADRIGAL (1970-), “Cronología pre-Umma”, in Fragmentos de burbuja (2010).

– Andrés NEUMAN (1977-), “Fahrenheit.com” (2012).

– Marlon OCAMPO (1980-), “Crónicas del 2080”, in [El carnaval del diablo y otros cuentos] (2014).

– Rosa MONTERO (1951-), “Apéndice documental”, in El peso del corazón (2015).

– Rafel Vallès i Roderich (Frederic PUJULÀ I VALLÉS, 1877-1962), “La fi de la segona República española” (1904).

– Manuel de MONTOLIU (1877-1961), “Un somni” (1906).

– Nicolau M. RUBIÓ I TUDURÍ (1891-1981), “La gran sotragada”, in [Un crim abstracte o el jardiner assassinat] (1965).

– Ramon COMAS I MADUELL (1935-1978), “L’evaporació”, in [Rescat d’ambaixadors] (1970).

– Joan RENDE I MASDEU (1943-), “Notícia succinta d’assaig de fi del món”, in [Sumari d’homicida] (1978).

– Avel·lí ARTÍS-GENER (1912-2000), “Domesticació de la memòria” (1980), in [El boà taronja] (1986).

– Màrius SERRA (1963-), Amnèsia (1987).

– Víctor MORA (1931-2016), “L’estiu fatídic”, in [Barcelona 2080 i altres contes improbables] (1989).

– Joaquim CARBÓ (1932-), “Els caps de semana del futur” (1986), in [La calaixera dels contes] (1989).

– Òscar PÀMIES (1961-), “El sufragi versàtil”, in [Com serà la fi del món: Maneres que tindrà de presentar-se’ns i com preparar-s’hi anímicament] (1996).

– Joan-Francés BLANC (1961-), “Cronologia”, in Heisei (1999).

– Louis BAYLE (1907-1989), “La guerro dis oundo”, “L’enimo dis ome blanc”, in [Aièr e deman] (1970).

– Gustave NAQUET (1819-1886), L’Europe délivrée.– Histoire prophétique de 1871 à 1892 (1871).

– Gabriel TARDE (1843-1904), “Les Géants chauves” (1871/1892) // Fragment d’histoire future (1896).

– Samuel BURY, *Histoire de la prise de Berne et de l’annexion de la Suisse à l’Allemagne (1872).

– Charles CROS (1842-1888), “Un Drame interastral” (1872).

– Émile SECOND, Histoire de la décadence d’un peuple (1872-1900) (1872).

– Edmond THIAUDIÈRE (1837-1930), *La dernière bataille (1873).

– Général La Mèche, La Guerre franco-allemande de 1878, en Belgique (1877).

– Ursus, “Précis de l’histoire de France par Duruy IV” (1880).

– Henri BOLAND, La Guerre prochaine entre la France et l’Allemagne (1881).

– Jules CAPRÉ (1847-1908), *Josias Biberon ou histoire des glorieuses campagnes de la 1^ère division de l’armée fédérale suisse en l’an 3881 après Jésus-Christ (1881).

– Noël YAOUD, *La guerre de 1884 (1883).

– Charles ROPE, Rome et Berlin (1888).

– Michel ZÉVACO (1860-1918), *“Triomphe de la Révolution” (1890).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), “La Terreur future” (1890), in [Cœur double] (1891).

– Adrien PERRET (1869-1943), *“Comment la flotte allemande fut détruite par la flotte française en l’an 19…” (1891).

– Louis GALLET (1835-1898), “La mort de Paris” (1892).

– Camille FLAMMARION (1842-1925), La Fin du monde (1893).

– Maurice SPRONCK (1861-1921), L’An 330 de la République (1894).

– Tristan BERNARD (1866-1947), “Qu’est-ce qu’ils peuvent bien nous dire?” (1894), in [Contes de Pantruche et d’ailleurs] (1897).

– Jehan MAILLART, “Crépuscule”, in [Contes chimériques] (1895).

– Gaston de PAWLOWSKI (1874-1933), “Le désarmement” (1899/1901) // Voyage au pays de la quatrième dimension (1912/1923).

– Henri de NOUSANNE, *“La Guerre anglo-franco-russe” (1900).

– Edmond HARAUCOURT (1856-1941), “Les derniers hommes” (1900) // “Le conflit suprême” (1919).

– Victor FORBIN (1864-1947), “Le Déluge de glace” (1902).

– Édouard DUCOTÉ (1870-1929), “La Fête de la Paix”, in [En ce monde ou dans l’autre] (1903).

– Léon BAILLY (1867-1954), “Celui qui attend” (1905).

– Clément VAUTEL (1876-1954), * “La Fin de la Troisième République” (1905).

– François PAFIOU, “La Disparition du rouge” (1908).

– Jules SAGERET (1861-1944), “La Race qui vaincra”, in [Paradis laïques] (1908).

– Émile POUGET (1860-1931); Émile PATAUD (1869-1935), Comment nous ferons la révolution (1909).

– Han RYNER (Henri Ner, 1861-1938), “Biographie de Victor Venturon” (1909).

– Olivier SAYLOR (Olivier-Eugène Jules Diraison, 1873-1916), “La fin du monde” (1910).

– Maurice SCHWOB (1858-1928), * “Les temps futurs”, in [Bagatelles] (1910).

– Alexandru MACEDONSKI (1854-1920), *“Oceania-Pacific-Dreadnought” (1911).

– Gaston de PAWLOWSKI (1874-1933), Voyage au pays de la quatrième dimension (1912/1923).

– Commandant de CIVRIEUX (Louis-Marie-Sylvain-Pierre LARREGUY DE CIVRIEUX), La Fin de l’empire d’Allemagne. La Bataille du ‘Champ des bouleaux’, 191… (Extrait d’un précis d’histoire édité en 193…) (1912).

– Octave BÉLIARD (1876-1951), “Orient contre Occident” (1914).

– Lucien DUBECH (1881-1940), “Anticipation ou le Sport adoucit les mœurs” (1924).

– Pierre ADORNIER (Lucien Job, 1885-1968), “La Mort du film”, in [Contes gris et roses] (1926).

– André MAUROIS (Émile Salomon Wilhelm Herzog, 1885-1967), Le Chapitre suivant (1927) / [Deux Fragments d’une histoire universelle 1992] (1928) // “Fragments d’une histoire universelle publiée en 1992 par l’université de ***”, in [Relativisme] (1930) // [Le Chapitre suivant 1927 – 1967 – 2007] (1979).

– Henri-Jacques PROUMEN (1879-1962), “Surhommes”, in [La Boîte aux marionnettes] (1930).

– Jean PAINLEVÉ (1902-1989), “La Fin des robots” (1933).

– Léon GROC (1882-1956), “Crimes instantanés… En pressant sur le bouton du Mandarin” (1933).

– CURNONSKY (Maurice Edmond Saillant, 1872-1956), *“Un Millénaire de gastronomie” (1933).

– René de PLANHOL (1889-1940), “Le Désastre” (1930).

– Pierre DRIEU LA ROCHELLE (1893-1945), “Défense de sortir” (1930), in [Journal d’un mari trompé] (1934).

– Pierre de NOLHAC (1859-1936), “Babel à Ferney”, in [Contes philosophiques] (1932).

– Jacques SPITZ (1896-1963), L’Agonie du globe (1935) // La Guerre mondiale nº 3 (2009) // “Après l’ère atomique” (2009).

– Fernand BOVERAT (1885-1962), La Bataille de l’océan (1937).

– Régis MESSAC (1893-1945), *“Les nouveaux fragments de l’histoire générale publiée en 2907” (1937) // *“Les évêques partout” (1937).

– A. J. [Auguste-Jean] PELLAT, Société des Nations et gouvernement international (1938).

– Jacques STERNBERG (1923-2006), “Précis de l’histoire du futur” (1955) / “Petit Précis de l’histoire de futur” [188 contes à régler] (1988), “Les conquérants”, in [Entre deux mondes incertains] (1957) // “La colonisation”, “Le contact”, “Les dirigeants”, “La poubelle”, “La richesse”, in [188 contes à régler] (1988).

– Jean PAULHAC (1921-2011), “La machine à faire des mondes”, in [Un bruit de guêpes] (1957).

– Didier ANZIEU (1923-1999), “Le totémisme aujourd’hui”, “La tour de Babel”, in [Contes à rebours] (1975/1987/1995).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “Chronique du surhomme”, in [Diable, Dieu et autres contes de menterie] (1965) // “Les Juifs de Mars”, in [Rêveries d’un Martien en exil] (1976) // (atribuido a Michel Morat), “Ludion”, in [L’Évangile du rien] (1980).

– Gérard KLEIN (Gilles d’Argyre, 1937-), “Discours pour le centième anniversaire de l’Internationale Végétarienne” (1968), in [Histoires comme si…] (1975).

– Louis BAYLE (1907-1989), “La Guerre des ondes”, “L’Énigme des hommes blancs”, in [Contes d’hier et de demain] (1970).

– Gilles Marie BAUR (1945-), [La Vie sexuelle des robots] (1988).

– Jean SILVE DE VENTAVON, “Extrait de l’Histoire du Royaume-Empire” (1992).

– Sylvain JOUTY (1949-), “L’épidémie mortelle”, “Comment les Moara conquirent le monde”, in [La Visite au tombeau de mes ancêtres] (1995) // “La mort du chef”, “La clarière de Finges”, in [Queen Kong] (2001).

– Bernard WERBER (1961-), “Du pain et des jeux”, “Tel maître, tel lion”, in [L’Arbre des possibles et autres histoires] (2002) // “La guerre des marques”, in [Paradis sur mesure] (2008).

– Denis MONIÈRE (1947-), 25 ans de souveraineté: Histoire de la République du Québec (2006).

– Giuseppe RICCIARDI (1808-1882), Storia dell’Italia dal 1850 al 1900 (1842).

– Ippolito NIEVO (1831-1861), “Storia filosofica dei secoli futuri” (1860).

– Giovanni SEREGNI, “Una conferenza di storia dell’anno 3000. Il mondo nel XX secolo” (1903).

– Carlo MONTICELLI (1857-1913), *Il primo giorno del socialismo (1904).

– Giulio DOUHET (1869-1930), “La guerra del 19-” (1930).

– Virgilio MARTINI (1906-1988), Il mondo senza donne (1936).

– Vitaliano BRANCATI (1907-1954), “L’isola” (1936).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “L’epidemia” (1941), in [L’epidemia] (1944/1956).

– Dino BUZZATI (1906-1972), “24 marzo 1958”, in [Il crollo de la Baliverna] (1954).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “Frammenti”, in [Diario minimo] (1963/1975) // “Italia 2000” (1991), in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Juan Rodolfo WILCOCK (1919-1978), “Le forme nuove”, in [Lo stereoscopio dei solitari] (1972).

– Vittorio SILVESTRINI (1935-), Storia della terza Guerra Mondiale (1982).

– Alexandru MACEDONSKI (1854-1920), “Oceania-Pacific-Dreadnought” (1913).

– Alice GABRIELESCU (1893-?), “O descoperire antifeministă” (1928).

– Ştefan TITA (1905-1977), “Omul sintetic”, in [Spovedania unui atom] (1947).

– Vasile VOICULESCU (1884-1963), “Lobocoagularea prefrontală” [(1948) 1982].

– Max SOLOMON (1914-2005), “Cerul de sticlă” (1965), in [La 90] (2004).

– Ovid S. CROHMĂLNICEANU (Moise Cohn, 1921-2000), “Un capitol de istorie literară”, in [Istorii insolite] (1980) // “Cele zece triburi pierdute”, in [Alte istorii insolite] (1986).

– Romulus DINU (1921-), “Boala de congelare (Apatia criogenitică)”, in […dintr-o lume congelată şi… false ficţiuni] (1980).

– Mihail GRĂMESCU (1951-2014), “Jurnalul de bord al navei Hyacinth”, “Condotierii”, “Penicillium gigantea”, in [Aporisticon] (1981/2012).

ALTERNATE HISTORY

– G. Macaulay TREVELYAN (1876-1962), “If Napoleon Had Won the Battle of Waterloo” (1907), in [Recent Essays] (1926).

– Charles PETRIE (1895-1977), “If: A Jacobite Fantasy” (1926), in The Jacobite Movement: The Last Phase, 1716-1807 (1950).

– Hendrik Willem VAN LOON (1882-1944), “If the Dutch Had Kept Nieuw Amsterdam” (1931).

– Winston S. CHURCHILL (1874-1965), “If Lee Had Not Won the Battle of Gettysburg” (1931).

– Harold NICOLSON (1886-1968), “If Byron Had Become King of Greece” (1931).

– Milton WALDMAN (1895-1976), “If Booth Had Missed Lincoln” (1931).

– Emil LUDWIG (1881-1948), “If the Emperor Frederick Had Not Had Cancer” (1931).

– J. C. SQUIRE (1884-1958), “If It Had Been Discovered in 1930 that Bacon Really Did Write Shakespeare” (1931).

– Frederick ROLFE (1860-1913), Hubert’s Arthur (1935).

– MacKinlay KANTOR (1904-1977), If the South Had Won the Civil War (1960).

– Brian ALDISS (1925-), “MERO’s Sinai Project, 1957-1970”, in [The Shape of Further Things: Speculations on Change] (1970).

– Gary GYGAX (1938-2008); Terry STAFFORD (1941-1996), *Victorious German Arms: An Alternate Military History of World War II (1973).

– Robert SOBEL (1931-1999), For Want of a Nail: If Burgoyne Had Won at Saratoga (1973).

– Vine DELORIA Jr. (1933-2005), “Why the U.S. Never Fought the Indians” (1976).

– Steven UTLEY (1948-); Howard WALDROP (1946-), “Custer’s Last Jump!” (1976), in [Custer’s Last Jump and Other Collaborations] (1997).

– John LUKACS (1924-), “What if Hitler Had Won the Second World War” (1978).

– Kenneth MACKSEY (1923-2005), Invasion: The Alternate History of the German Invasion of England July 1940 (1980).

– Poul ANDERSON (1926-2001), “Unclefting Beholding (from The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle)” (1989), in [Kinship with the Stars] (1991) and [All One Universe] (1996).

– Adrian GILBERT (1954-), Britain Invaded: Hitler’s Plans for Britain (1990).

– Peter TSOURAS, Disaster at D-Day: The Germans Defeat the Allies, June 1944 (1994).

– Robert Crowley (ed.), [What If? The World’s Most Famous Military Historians Imagine What Might Have Been] (1999) // [More What If? Eminent Historians Imagine What Might Have Been] (2001).

– Andrew Roberts (ed.), [What Might Have Been. Imaginary History from Twelve Leading Historians] (2004).

– David MOLES, [“Five Irrational Histories”] (2004).

– Michael MOORCOCK (1939-), “Shamalung (The Diminutions)” (2011).

– Tad WILLIAMS (1957-), “A Short History of Dunkelblau’s Meistergarten” (2011).

– Ted CHIANG (1967-), “Dacey’s Patent Automatic Nanny” (2011).

– Lev GROSSMAN (1969-), “Sir Ranulph Wykeham-Rackham, GBE, a.k.a., Roboticus the All-Knowing” (2011).

– Cherie PRIEST (1975-), “Addison Howell and the Clockroach” (2011).

– Reza NEGARESTANI (1977-), “The Gallows-Horse” (2011).

– Will HINDMARCH, “The Auble Gun” (2011).

– Amar EL-MOHTAR, “The Singing Fish” (2011).

– Nilo María FABRA (1843-1903), “Cuatro siglos de buen gobierno”, in [Por los espacios imaginarios (con escalas en la Tierra)] (1885).

– Víctor ALBA (Pere Pagès i Elies, 1916-2003), 1936-1976. Historia de la Segunda República española (1976).

– Daniel BARBIERI (Daniel Croci, 1951-2004), “Si Evita hubiera vivido” (1990).

– Joan Maria Thomàs (ed.), [La historia de España que no pudo ser: doce prestigiosos historiadores explican lo que pudo haber sido y no fue] (2007).

– Eduardo VAQUERIZO (1967-), “Breve consideración sobre el nacimiento de la Conchabía Conjurada”, “Imperio: cuatro siglos de asombro. Introducción”, “Evolución tecnológica: necesidad y remedio”, “La derrota del directorado frente a los comuneros de la Nueva Borgoña de Norte América”, “Consideraciones sobre la reforma: imperio y religión”, in Memoria de tinieblas (2013) // “Cronología” [Crónicas de tinieblas] (2014).

– Louis GEOFFROY (1803-1858), Napoléon et la conquête du Monde. 1812 à 1832. Histoire de la Monarchie universelle (1836).

– Charles RENOUVIER (1815-1903), Uchronie (1876).

– André MAUROIS (Émile Salomon Wilhelm Herzog, 1885-1967), “Si Louis XVI…”, in [Mes songes que voici] (1932).

– Jean TARDIEU (1903-1995), “Une page d’histoire: L’Assassinat de Louis XIV”, in [Le Professeur Frœppel] (1978).

– Bernard QUILLIET, *La Véritable Histoire de la France (1983).

– Maurice GOLDRING (1927-), La République Populaire de France (1949-1981) (1984).

– Jacques Spir, Frank Stora, Loïc Mahé (eds.), 1940. Et si la France avait continué la guerre: Essai d’alternative historique (2010) – 1941-1942. Et si la France avait continué la guerre: Essai d’alternative historique (2012).

– Guido MORSELLI (1912-1973), Contro-passato prossimo (1975).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “Una storia vera” (1979), in [Sette anni di desiderio] (1986) / [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Giancarlo LUNATI (1928-2014), [Gesù. Quattro vite verosimili] (2000).

– Enrico RULLI (1958-), “Il grande volo dell’aquila bicipite” (2005).

– Carlo DE RISIO (1935-), “Guerra lampo” (2005).

– Dănuţ IVĂNESCU; Ionuţ BĂNUŢĂ; Caius STANCU, “Scurtă istorie generală a lucrurilor”, in [Motocentauri pe Acoperişul Lumii] (1995).

HISTORY OF PAST IMAGINARY COUNTRIES

– G. [Granville] Stanley HALL (1844-1924), “The Fall of Atlantis”, in [Recreations of a Psychologist] (1920).

– [Howard] P. [Phillips] LOVECRAFT (1890-1937), “The Doom That Came to Sarnath” (1920) // “The Cats of Ulthar” (1920).

– Robert E. [Ervin] HOWARD (1906-1936), “The Hyborian Age” (1938).

– John BOARDMAN (Jack Melton Boardman, 1932-), “Ocean Trade in the Hyborian Age” (1960).

– J. [John] R. [Ronald] R. [Reuel] TOLKIEN (1892-1973), “The Tale of Years (Chronology of the Westlands”, in The Lord of the Rings (1967) // “The Line of Elros: Kings of Númenor from the Founding of the City of Armenelos to the Downfall”, “The Disaster of the Gladden Fields”, “The Battles of the Ford of Isen”, in [Unfinished Tales] (1980) // “The Annals of Aman”, in [Morgoth’s Ring] (1993).

– Dean Francis ALFAR (1969-), “An Excerpt from Princes of the Sultanate (Ghazali: 1992); Annotated by Omar Jamad Maududi, MLS, HOL, JMS.” (2007), in [The Kite of Stars and Other Stories] (2008).

– José de SILES (1856-1911), “La batalla de los árboles” (1884).

– René AVILÉS FABILA (1940-2016), “El proceso de las ratas”, in [Hacia el fin del mundo] (1969) and [Fantasías en carrusel] (1978/1995/2001).

– Rafael SÁNCHEZ FERLOSIO (1927-2019), “Los lectores del ayer” (1980), “Los príncipes concordes”, in [El geco] (2005).

– Juan BENET (1927-1993), Herrumbrosas lanzas (1983-2009).

– Diego MUÑOZ VALENZUELA (1956-), “El Valle del Inca”, in [Nada ha terminado] (1984).

– José OVEJERO (1958-), “Historia de Anquises el Silencioso”, in [Cuentos para salvarnos todos] (1996).

– Gloria MÉNDEZ (1969-), “El ejército de Amzif I”, in [El informe Kristeva] (1997).

– Iban ZALDUA (1966-), “La isla de los antropólogos”, in [La isla de los antropólogos y otros relatos] (2001).

– Alberto LÓPEZ AROCA (1976-), “La guía de Arkham”, in [Necronomicón Z] (2012).

– Juan GÓMEZ BÁRCENA (1984-), “La leyenda del rey Aktasar”, in [Los que duermen y otros relatos] (2012).

– Roberto GONZÁLEZ-QUEVEDO (1953-), “De bello paesico”, “Paesicorum terram serpentis…”, in [Hestoria de la l.literatura primera en Pesicia] (2014).

– X. [Xavier] B. [Boniface] SAINTINE (1798-1865), “Histoire d’une civilisation antédiluvienne” (1832), in [Jonathan le visionnaire] (1866).

-Alphonse DAUDET (1840-1897), “Wood’stown” (1873), in [Robert Helmont] (1874).

– Jean d’ORMESSON (1925-2017), La Gloire de l’empire (1971).

– Augusto FRASSINETI (1911-1985), “Fine dell’imperio degli Èmori”, in Mistero dei ministeri (1952).

– Juan Rodolfo WILCOCK (1919-1978), “L’Atlantide”, in [Lo stereoscopio dei solitari] (1972).

– Mihai MĂNIUŢIU (1954-), “Căutători de comori din Eldo”, in [Un zeu aproape muritor] (1982).

SECRET HISTORY

– Edgar Allan POE (1809-1849), “Van Kempelen and His Discovery” (1849).

– Edmund BACKHOUSE (1873-1944), J. [John] O. [Otway] P. [Percy] BLAND, China under the Empress Dowager (1910).

– H. L. MENCKEN (1880-1956), “A Neglected Anniversary” (1917), in [A Mencken Chrestomathy] (1949).

– H. [Howard] P. [Phillips] LOVECRAFT (1890-1937), “The History of the Necronomicon” (1938).

– James E. MILLER (1920-2010), “How Newton Discovered the Law of Gravitation” (1951).

– Woody ALLEN (Allan Stewart Königsberg, 1935-), “The Discovery and Use of Fake Ink Blot” (1966), in [Getting Even] (1971).

– Harry MATHEWS (1930-), “Tradition and the Individual Talent: The “Bratislava Spiccato””, in [Country Cooking and Other Stories] (1980).

– J. [Joanne] K. ROWLING (1965-), Quidditch through the Ages (2001; as by Kennilworthy Wisp).

– John Thomas SLADEK (1937-2002), Wholly Smokes (2003).

– Max BROOKS (1972-), [“Recorded Attacks”], in The Zombie Survival Guide (2003).

– Mark A. RAINER, “A Short History of Groundhog Day”, in [Pirate Therapy and Other Cures] (2012).

– Juan José ARREOLA (1918-2001), “Nabónides”, in [Confabulario] (1952).

– Pedro GÓMEZ VALDERRAMA (1923-1992), “El ala izquierda del águila”, in [El retablo de Maese Pedro] (1973) and [Más arriba del reino] (1980).

– Edgardo RODRÍGUEZ JULIÁ (1946-), La renuncia del héroe Baltasar (1974).

– Fernando DURÁN AYANEGUI (1939-), “Política y cornucopia”, in [El benefactor y otros relatos] (1981).

– Enrique VILA-MATAS (1948-), Histoira abreviada de la literatura portátil (1985).

– Juan PERUCHO (1920-2003), [Historias secretas de balnearios] (1972) // [Minuta de monstruos] (1987).

– Santiago BERUETE (1961-); Fernando Luis CHIVITE (1959-), “Silogismo en Bárbara”, “Del estado óptimo de la república o de la nueva utopía de Inopia”, in [Los furores inútiles] (1990).

– Pedro UGARTE (1963-), “La Escuela Breve de Liverpool”, in [Materiales para una expedición] (2002).

– Alberto LÓPEZ AROCA (1976-), [“Mitología creativa”], in Los espectros conjurados (2004).

– Juan GÓMEZ BÁRCENA (1984-), “La virgen de los cabellos cortados”, in [Los que duermen y otros relatos] (2012).

– Julián DÍEZ (1968-), “Gigamesh en el cine: frustraciones y éxito” (2015).

– Étienne-Léon de LAMOTHE-LANGON (1786-1864), Histoire de l’Inquisition en France (1829).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “Cette année-là, Dieu fut”, in [L’Arrière-monde] (1972) // “La bataille de l’eau de Lourdes”, in [La Rose réaliste] (1985) // “Le Vampire de la Place Rouge”, in [Contes cuistres] (1987).

– Sylvain JOUTY (1949-), “Les G”, in [La Visite au tombeau de mes ancêtres] (1995).

– Constantin A. IONESCU-CAION (1880-1918), “Un război al lui Mircea în 1399” (1901).

ALLEGORICAL HISTORY

– Richard WHATELEY (1787-1863); William FITZGERALD (1814-1883), Historic Certainties Respecting the Early History of America (1851).

– James THOMSON (1834-1882), “The Story of a Famous Old Jewish Firm” (1865), in [Satires and Profanities] (1884).

– Jonquil (J. L. COLLINS), Queen Krinaleen’s Plagues, or, How a Simple People Were Destroyed (1874).

– W. [Walter] J. [James] TURNER (1889-1946), “The State”, in [Fables, Parables and Plots] (1943).

– H. [Howard] P. [Phillips] LOVECRAFT (1890-1937), “The Battle That Ended the Century (MS. Found in a Time Machine)” (1944).

– Mark TWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens, 1835-1910), “Passage from “Outlines of History” (Suppressed), Date, 9th Century”, in [Fables of Man] (1972).

– Neil B. [Baird] THOMPSON (1921-1977), “The Mysterious Fall of the Nacirema” (1972).

– Benjamin ROSENBAUM (1969-), “Zvlotsk” (2002), in [Other Cities] (2003).

– Afonso Henriques de LIMA BARRETO (1881-1922), “A firmeza de Al-Bandeirah” (1915) – “A solidariedade de Al-Bandeirah” (1915) – “O reconhecimento” (1915) // “Congresso Pamplanetário”, in [Histórias e sonhos] (1920) // “O Falso Dom Henrique V” (1921).

– FERREIRA GULLAR (José RIBAMAR FERREIRA, 1930-), “Vat Phan”, “Tyfw”, “Texclx”, “Fraternópolis”, “Tuxmu”, “Minofagasta”, “Iscúmbria”, “Inoa”, “Zambarbirna”, “Wen-Fen”, “Mori”, “Bela”, “Adrixerlinus”, in [Cidades Inventadas] (1997).

-*Aureópolis (1891).

– Esteban BORRERO ECHEVERRÍA (1849-1906), El ciervo encantado (1905).

– Julio TORRI (1889-1970), “La conquista de la Luna”, “Era un país pobre”, in [Ensayos y poemas] (1917).

– AZORÍN (José MARTÍNEZ RUIZ, 1873-1967), “Un enigma histórico” (1923), in [Escritores] (1956).

– Luis de TAPIA (1871-1937), “El gran problema de las islas “Kukay”” (1926).

– Felisberto HERNÁNDEZ (1902-1964), “Acunamiento”, in [Libro sin tapas] (1929).

– Vicente HUIDOBRO (1893-1948), “El gato con botas y Simbad el marino o Badsim el marrano”, in [Tres inmensas novelas] (1935).

– Carlos FUENTES (1928-2012), “En defensa de la Trigolibia”, in [Los días enmascarados] (1954).

– Antonio CASTRO LEAL (1896-1981), “La literatura no se cotiza” (1937), in [El laurel de San Lorenzo] (1959).

– Álvaro de LAIGLESIA (1922-1981), “Continúa el congreso pro-paz”, in [El baúl de los cadáveres] (1948).

– Segundo SERRANO PONCELA (1912-1976), “El filántropo” (1965), in [Los huéspedes] (1968).

– Manuel MUJICA LÁINEZ (1910-1984), Crónicas reales (1967).

– Manuel DERQUI (1921-1973), “Sigue Poeta” (1969).

– Alberto CAÑAS (1920-2014), “La terrible revolución que se venía”, in [La exterminación de los pobres y otros pienses] (1974).

– Juan GARCÍA HORTELANO (1928-1992), “Cuestiones flabelígeras”, in [Mucho cuento] (1987).

– Fernando U. SEGOVIA ¿(Angélica GORODISCHER, 1929-)?, “Historia de la fragua (para la escuela media)” (1988).

– Antonio MENCHACA (1921-2002), “El rascacielos”, in [Amor siempre asediado y otros relatos] (1989).

– José ELGARRESTA (1945-), “La república feliz de Maranchón”, in Cutrelandia: La República de las Letras (2005).

– David ARIAS (1965-), “Que tu pie izquierdo no sepa lo que hace el derecho”, in [Horrores cotidianos] (2007).

– Iban ZALDUA (1966-), “La Bella Durmiente: una historia económica”, in [Porvenir] (2007).

– Àngel FERRAN (1892-1971), “De la prehistòria a la civilització” (1928).

– Pere CALDERS (1912-1994), “L’espiral” (1956), in [Tots els contes] (1968) // “Reportatge del dia repetit”, in [Demà, a les tres de la matinada] (1959) // “La rebeŀlió de les coses”, “Esport i ciutadania”, in [Invasió subtil i altres contes] (1978) // “Tot queda a casa”, in [Un estrany al jardí] (1985).

– George VILLELONGUE, “La légende de la guillotine” (1887).

– Gabriel de LAUTREC (1867-1938), “Le mur”, in [Poèmes en prose] (1898) / [La Vengeance du portrait ovale] (1922).

– Marcel MARIEN (1920-1993), “Le temps mort”, in [Les Fantômes du château des cartes] (1981).

– Ursicin G. [Gion] G. [Gieli] DERUNGS (1935-), “Ils plats”, in [Il cavalut verd ed auter] (1988).

– Giovanni PAPINI (1881-1956), “Mahavir o della populazione crescente” (1949), in [Le pazzie del poeta] (1950).

– Giovanni CAVICCHIOLI (1908-1979), «Il gran traforo», in [Favole] (1951).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “Il diavolo in campagna”, in [L’epidemia] (1956).

– Primo LEVI (1919-1987), “Censura in Bitinia” (1961), in [Storie naturali] (1966).

– Lia WAINSTEIN (1919-2001), “I Cacciatori di Teste”, in [Viaggio in Drimonia] (1965).

– Roberto VACCA (1927-), “Incomunicabilità 1”, in [Esempi di avvenire] (1965) and [Carezzate con terrore la testa dei vostri figli] (1992) – “Incomunicabilità 2”, in [Carezzate con terrore la testa dei vostri figli] (1992).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “Il pensiero di Brachamutanda”, in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Eugen IONESCU / Eugène IONESCO (1909-1994), “Trifoiul cu patru foi”, in [Nu] (1934).

– Ştefan TITA (1905-1977), “Războiul celor 43 de zile”, “Rasa pură”, “Protocolul de la Modena”, in [Avantajul de a fi câine] (1938).

– Gheorghe SĂSĂRMAN (1941-), “Tropaeum”, “Seneţia”, “Protopolis”, “Castrum”, “Musaeum”, “Homogenia”, “Cosmovia”, “Geopolis”, in [Cuadratura cercului] (1975/2001).

– Mihai MĂNIUŢIU (1954-), “Erezia”, “Cautătorii de comori din Eldo”, in [Un zeu aproape muritor] (1982).

XENOHISTORY OR ANIMAL HISTORY

– William Morton WHEELER (1865-1937), “The Termitodoxa, or, Biology and Society” (1920).

– Julian HUXLEY (1887-1975), “Philosophical Ants”, in [Essays of a Biologist] (1923).

– Jacquetta HAWKES (1910-1996), “Export and Die”, in [Fables] ([A Woman as Great as the World and Other Fables]) (1953).

– E. [Edward] O. [Osborne] WILSON (1929-), “Trailhead” (2010).

– Joaquim Maria MACHADO DE ASSIS (1839-1908), “A Sereníssima República”, in [Papéis Avulsos] (1882).

– Adolfo PÉREZ ZELASCHI (1920-2005), “Historia general de las hormigas” (como Harald Heggstad), in [Más allá de los espejos] (1949).

– Juan José ARREOLA (1918-2001), “El prodigioso miligramo”, in [Confabulario] (1952).

– J. [Juan] J. [José] BENÍTEZ (1946-), “El mundo de los topos”, in [Sueños] (1982).

– Roger AVERMAETE (1893-1988), La Conjuration des chats (1919-1920).

– Carlo CASSOLA (1917-1987), “La comunità dei camosci e degli stambecchi”, in [La morale del branco] (1980).

ALIEN OR GALACTIC HISTORY

– James William BARLOW (1826-1913), History of a World of Immortals without a God (como Antares Skorpios, 1891) / The Immortals’ Great Quest (1909).

– Edward WELLEN (1919-2011), “Origins of Galactic Slang” (1952) // “Origins of Galactic Law” (1953) // “Origins of the Galactic Short-Snorter” (1960) // “Origins of Galactic Fruit Salad” (1962).

– Frank HERBERT (1920-1986), “The Ecology of Dune”, “The Religion of Dune”, “Report on Bene Gesserit Motives and Purposes”, in Dune (1965).

– Brian ALDISS (1925-), “Heresies of the Huge God” (1966), in [The Moment of Eclipse] (1970).

– Iain M. BANKS (1954-2013), “The Idiran-Culture War”, in Consider Phlebas (1987).

– Ralph HORSLEY, “The Battle of Nîs-Pazar” (1999).

– Ursula K. [Kroeber] LE GUIN (1929-2018), “Wake Island”, in [Changing Planes](2002).

– George R. R. MARTIN (1948-); Elio Miguel GARCÍA Jr. (1978-); Linda Maria ANTONSSON (1974-), The World of Ice & Fire: The Untold History of Westeros and the Game of Thrones (2014).

– José NUNES DE MATTA (1849-1946), “História geral do Planeta Marte”, in História autêntica do Planeta Marte (como Henri Mongolfier, 1921).

– Mário-Henrique LEIRIA (1923-1980), “Casos de direito galático”, in [Casos de direito galático. O mundo inquietante de Josela (fragmentos)] (1975).

– Charlemagne-Ischir DEFONTENAY (1814-1856), Star ou Ψ de Cassiopée (1854).

– Carlo FRABETTI (Italia, 1945-), “Dialexis” (1972).

– Max SOLOMON (1914-2005), “Cerul de sticlă” (1965), in [La 90] (2004).

Related fictional historiographic genres

MOCK OLD CHRONICLE

– Nilson MARTELLO, “Da Mayor Speriencia” (1965).

– Alphonse RABBE (1784-1829), “Anecdote du IX^e siècle”, in [Album d’un pessimiste] (1836).

– ¿Ignazio PILLITO (1806-1895)?, [Pergamene, codici e fogli cartacei d’Arborea] (Cartas de Arborea / Carte d’Arborea) (1863).

– Giacomo LEOPARDI (1798-1837), Martirio de’ Santi Padri del Monte Sinai e dell’eremo di Raitu (1822).

– Monaldo LEOPARDI (1776-1847), Memoriale di frate Giovanni (1828/1833).

– Giuseppe CUGNONI (1824-1908), Vita di Arhot monaco (1884).

– ¿Constandin SION (1795-1862)?, Izvodul spătarului Clănău (Cronica lui Huru) (1856).

– George TOPÂRCEANU (1886-1937), “Domnia lui Ciubăr Vodă”, in [Scrisori fără adresă] (1930).

MOCK GENEALOGY

– James Branch CABELL (1879-1958), The Lineage of Lichfield (1922).

MOCK BIOGRAPHY

– Samuel BUTLER (1835-1902), “Memoir of the Late John Pickard Owen”, in The Fair Heaven (1873).

– Ambrose BIERCE (1842-¿1914?), “John Smith, Liberator (from a Newspaper of the Far Future)” (1873).

– Jack LONDON (John London, 1876-1916), “The Enemy of All the World” (1908), in [The Strength of the Strong] (1911).

– William George JORDAN (1864-1928), “The Personal Side of Larrovitch”, in Feodor Vladimir Larrovitch, an Appreciation of his Life and Works (1918).

– H. [Howard] P. [Phillips] LOVECRAFT (1890-1937), “Ibid” (1938).

– Isaac ASIMOV (1920-1992), “The Man Who Made the 21^st Century” (1965).

– Frank HERBERT (1920-1986), “The Almanak en-Sharaf (Selected Excerpts of the Noble Houses)”, in Dune (1965).

– William S. [Stuart] BARING-GOULD (1913-1967), Nero Wolfe of West Thirty-Fifth Street (1969).

– C. [Cyril] Northcote PARKINSON (1909-1993), *The Life and Times of Horatio Hornblower (1970) // *Jeeves: A Gentleman’s Personal Gentleman (1979).

– Steven MILLHAUSER (1943-), Edwin Mullhouse: The Life and Death of an American Writer 1943-1954, by Jeffrey Cartwright (1972).

– Philip José FARMER (1918-2009), Tarzan Alive (1972) // *Doc Savage: His Apocalyptic Life (1973).

– John D. [Drury] CLARK (1907-1988), P. [Peter] Schuyler MILLER (1912-1974), L. [Lyon] Sprague de CAMP (1907-2000), “An Informal Biography of Conan the Cimmerian” (1979).

– David T. ST. ALBANS (David Thomas Pudelwitts, 1954-), “The Life of the Master (A Biography of Abdul Alhazred by His Student, El-Rashi)” (1984).

– Arthur C. CLARKE (1917-2008), “The Steam-Powered Word Processor” (1986), in Astounding Days: A Science Fictional Autobiography (1989).

– Anne HART, The Life and Times of Miss Jane Marple (1985) // The Life and Times of Hercule Poirot (1990).

– William BOYD (1952-), Nat Tate: An American Artist 1928-1960 (1998).

– Andrew MOTION (1952-), The Invention of Dr Cake (2003).

– S. J. HIRONS (1973-), [“Pages Torn from Eminent Phantasists: A New Edition”] (2013).

– Shay AZOULAY, “Jacob Wallenstein, Notes for a Future Biography” (2013).

– Jorge de SENA (1919-1978), “Um imenso inédito semi-camoniano, e o menos que adiante se verá”, in As Quybyrycas (1972).

– Luís Filipe SILVA (1970-), [“Introduções”], in [Os Anos de Ouro da Pulp Fiction Portuguesa] (2011).

– Carlos CASARES (1941-2002), [Os escuros soños de Clío] (1979).

– Silverio LANZA (Juan Bautista Amorós, 1856-1912), Noticias biográficas acerca del Excmo. Sr. Marqués del Mantillo (1889).

– Rafael Zamora y Pérez de Urría, marqués de VALERO DE URRÍA (1861-1908), “Biografía de D. Iscariotes Val de Ur diligentemente escrita por su discípulo y albacea”, in [Crímenes literarios] (1906).

– José María SÁNCHEZ MAZAS (1894-1966), “La famosa noche de Robinson Crusoe en Pamplona” (1929).

– José María SALAVERRÍA (1873-1940), Vida de Martín Fierro, el gaucho ejemplar (1934).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), “Biografía de Tadeo Isidoro Cruz (1829-1874)” (1944), in [El Aleph] (1949).

– Juan José ARREOLA (1918-2001), “Sinesio de Rodas”, in [Confabulario] (1952).

– Max AUB (1903-1972), Jusep Torres Campalans (1958).

– Juan PERUCHO (1920-2003), [“Las figuras”], in [Galería de espejos sin fondo] (1963).

– Rafael PÉREZ ESTRADA (1934-2000), “A modo de biografía y más”, in Revelaciones de la Madre Margarita Amable del Divino Niño del Sí (1970).

– Pedro GÓMEZ VALDERRAMA (1923-1992), “El maestro de la soledad”, in [El retablo de Maese Pedro] (1973) and [Más arriba del reino] (1980).

– PALOMA DÍAZ MAS (1954-), [Biografías de genios, traidores, sabios y suicidas, según antiguos documentos] (1973).

– Rafael LLOPIS (1933), “Historia y leyenda de Abdelesar”, in [El Novísimo Algazife o Libro de las Postrimerías] (1980).

– Santiago BERUETE (1961-); Fernando Luis CHIVITE (1959-), “Anquises, el pesimista”, “El idealismo intrascendental”, “Vida de un poeta apócrifo”, in [Los furores inútiles] (1990).

– Felipe BENÍTEZ REYES (1960-), [Vidas improbables] (1995/2009).

– Roberto BOLAÑO (1953-2003), [La literatura nazi en América] (1996).

– Marcos Ricardo BARNATÁN (1946-), “Noticia de Gabriel Zapata”, in [La República de Mónaco] (2000).

– Pedro UGARTE (1963-), “El deterioro”, “Es demasiado para mí, dijo el ranchero”, in [Materiales para una expedición] (2002).

– Braulio ORTIZ POOLE (1974-), “¿Fue Lucy Melville víctima de una maldición egipcia?”, in [Biografías bastardas] (2005).

– Jesús COBO (1946-), “Crucigramas antiguos”, in [Veinte cuentos a deshora] (2008).

– Iban ZALDUA (1966-), “El canon de la literatura vasca”, in La patria de todos los vascos (2008).

– Rodolfo MARTÍNEZ (1965-), “Laoché Hernández, artesano de la imaginación”, in [El carpintero y la lluvia] (2010).

– Xuan BELLO (1965-), [Pantasmes, mundos, laberintos] (1996).

– José Luis RENDUELES (1972-), “Los meyores cuentos del mundu”, in [Los meyores cuentos del mundu y otres proses mongoles] (2007).

– Joan PERUCHO (1920-2003), [Històries apòcrifes] (1974).

– Pere CALDERS (1912-1994), “Filomena Ustrell (1916-1962)”, in [Invasió subtil i altres contes] (1978).

– Carme RIERA (1948-), “Informe”, in [Contra l’amor en companyia i altres relats] (1991).

– A. MUNNÉ-JORDÀ (1948-), “En el centenari de Valerià Cabrera i Prats” (1981) / “En homenatge a Valerià Cabrera i Prats”, in [El mirall venecià] (2008).

– Vicenç PAGÈS JORDÀ (1963-), [“Escriptors inèdits”], “Biografia d’Àngel Mauri”, in [El poeta i altres contes] (2005).

– Prosper MÉRIMÉE (1803-1870), “Notice sur Clara Gazul”, in [Théâtre de Clara Gazul, comédienne espagnole] (1825) // “Notice sur Hyacinthe Maglanovich”, in [La Guzla ou choix de poésies illyriques recueillies dans la Dalmatie, la Bosnie, la Croatie et l’Herzégowine] (1827).

– Charles-Augustin SAINTE-BEUVE (1804-1869), “Vie de Joseph Delorme”, in Vie, poésies et pensées de Joseph Delorme (1829).

– Évariste BOULAY-PATY (1804-1864), “Vie”, in Élie Mariaker (1834).

– Pierre LOUŸS (1870-1925), “Vie de Bilitis”, in [Las Chansons de Bilitis] (1895).

– Paul-Jean TOULET /1867-1920), Monsieur du Paur, homme public (1898/1920).

– Valery LARBAUD (1881-1957), “Biographie de M. Barnabooth par X. M. Tournier de Zamble”, in [Poèmes par un riche amateur ou Œuvres françaises de M. Barnabooth] (1908).

– Pierre de NOLHAC (1859-1936), “Bousquillot, sa vie et ses œuvres”, in [Contes philosophiques] (1932).

– Gustave FLAUBERT (1821-1880), “Vie et travaux du R.P. Cruchard” (1943).

– Yves GANDON (1899-1975), “Tsing Pann Yang, la vie et l’œuvre”, in [La Terrasse des désespoirs] (1943) / [Le Pavillon des délices regrettées] (1947).

– Paul-Louis THIRARD, “Une question mal connue: les débuts de Maurice Burnan” (1955).

– Jean DUTOURD (1920-2011), “Ludwig Schnorr ou la marche de l’histoire” (1958), in [Les Dupes] (1959).

– Didier ANZIEU (1923-1999), “Le nécrologiste”, in [Contes à rebours] (1975/1987/1995).

– Pascal QUIGNARD (1948-), “Vie d’Apronenia Avitia”, in Les Tablettes de buis d’Apronenia Avitia (1984).

– Dominique NOGUEZ (1942-), Les Trois Rimbaud (1986).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “Vie amoureuse de Jean Valjean”, in [Contes cuistres] (1987) // “La passion de John Bow”, in [Le Musée des apochryphes] (1990).

– George PEREC (1936-1982), “Une Amitié scientifique et littéraire: Léon Burp et Marcel Gotlib suivi de Considérations nouvelles sur la vie et l’œuvre de Romuald Saint-Sohaint”, in [Cantatrix sopranica L. et autres écrits scientifiques] (1991).

– Roland C. WAGNER (1960-2012), H. P. L. (1890-1991) (1995).

– Éric CHEVILLARD (1964-), “Chronologie”, in [L’Œuvre posthume de Thomas Pilaster] (1999).

– Samir BOUADI; Agathe COLOMBIER-HOCHBERG, [26,5 auteurs qui n’existent pas mais qu’il faut absolument avoir lus] (2008).

– Bernard QUIRINY (1978-), “Quelques écrivains, tous morts”, in [Contes carnivores] (2008).

– Yves SAVIGNY (Jean-Benoît PUECH, 1947-), Une biographie autorisée (2010).

– Yann DALL’AGLIO, Vies, sentences et doctrines des sages imaginaires (2014).

– Juan Rodolfo WILCOCK (1919-1978), [La sinagoga degli iconoclasti] (1972).

– Sebastiano VASSALLI (1941-), 3012: l’anno del profeta (1995).

– Luigi MALERBA (1927-2008), [Biografie immaginarie] (2014).

– Mihai MĂNIUŢIU (1954-), “Sibila Sy”, in [Un zeu aproape muritor] (1982).

MOCK MEMOIRS

– Edgar Allan POE (1809-1849), “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall” (1835), in [Tales of the Grotesque and the Arabesque] (1840) // “The Balloon-Hoax” (1844).

– George Tomkyns CHESNEY (1830-1895), The Battle of Dorking (1871).

– Maximilian MOLTRUHN, *The Other Side at the Battle of Dorking (1871).

– Hugh Oakley ARNOLD-FOSTER (1855-1909), “In a Conning Tower: How I Took HMS Majestic into Action” (1888).

– Ronald KNOX (1888-1957), Memories of the Future (1923).

– Neil BELL (Stephen Southwold, 1887-1964), The Gas War of 1940 / Valiant Clay (1931/1934).

– Frederick Philip GROVE (1879-1948), Consider Her Ways (1947).

– Michael CRICHTON (1942-2008), Eaters of the Dead (1976).

– David LANGFORD (1953-), An Account of a Meeting with Denizens from Another World, 1871 by William Robert Loosley (1979).

– Daniel Snowman (ed.), [If I Had Been…: Ten Historical Fantasies] (1979).

– David SELBOURNE (1937-), The City of Light (1997).

– Joaquim Maria MACHADO DE ASSIS (1839-1908), “O segredo do bonzo”, in [Papéis Avulsos] (1882).

– Miguel VALE DE ALMEIDA (1960-), “Evolução” (2006).

– Ángel GANIVET (1865-1898), La conquista del reino de Maya (1897).

– Félix de AZÚA (1944-), Mansura (1984).

– Rafael SÁNCHEZ FERLOSIO (1927-2019), El testimonio de Yarfoz (1986).

– Juan ESLAVA GALÁN (1948-), En busca del unicornio (1987).

– Marcos Ricardo BARNATÁN (1946-), “Crónica de Isaac Bar Nathan”, in [El horóscopo de las infantas] (1988) and [La República de Mónaco] (2000).

– Avel·lí ARTÍS-GENER (1912-2000), Palabras de Opoton el viejo (1992).

– Juan GÓMEZ BÁRCENA (1984-), “Cuaderno de bitácora” – “Cuaderno de bitácora II”, in [Los que duermen y otros relatos] (2012).

– Nicolau Maria RUBIÓ I TUDURÍ (1891-1981), “Gzwrrawtzicxm”, in [Un crim abstracte o el jardiner assassinat] (1965).

– Avel·lí ARTÍS-GENER (1912-2000), Paraules d’Opòton el Vell (1968).

– Josep LOZANO (1948-), “El rei Turigi” (2010), in [Després de les tenebres i altres narracions] (2013).

– Maurice COUSIN, comte de Courchamps (¿1777?-1859), Souvenirs de la marquise de Créquy, 1710 à 1802 (1834-1836).

– Carlo ROSSI, Il racconto di un guardiano di spiaggia (1872).

MOCK HISTORIOGRAPHICAL DOCUMENTS (MOCK NEWS, MOCK JOURNALISTIC REPORTS, AND SIMILAR JOURNALISTIC AND ARCHIVE DOCUMENTS, PRESENTED UNELABORATED AS SUCH)

– P. H. COLOMB (1831-1899), The Great War of 189- (1892).

– Ambrose BIERCE (1842-¿1914?), “The Great Strike of 1895” (1895).

– John D. [Dawson] MAYNE (1828-1917), The Triumph of Socialism and How It Succeeded (1908).

– Philip GUEDALLA (1889-1944), “If the Moors in Spain Had Won” (1931).

– Ronald KNOX (1888-1957), “If the General Strike Had Succeeded” (1931).

– Hilaire BELLOC (1870-1953), “If Drouet’s Cart Had Stuck” (1931).

– Thornton WILDER (1897-1975), The Ides of March (1948).

– Various authors, [Preview of the War We Do Not Want] (1951).

– Anthony TOWNE, “God is Dead in Georgia” (1966), in Excerpts from the Diaries of the Late God (1968).

– David GERROLD (Jerrold David Friedman, 1944-), “How We Saved the Human Race”, in [With a Finger in My I] (1972).

– Whitley STRIEBER (1945-); James KUNETKA, Warday and the Journey Onward (1984).

– Jonathon PORRITT (1950-), The World We Made (2013).

– Miguel VALE DE ALMEIDA (1960-), “A Natureza Humana” (1999).

– Arturo LEZCANO (1939-), “Os mortos, en vivo”, in [Só os mortos soterram os seus mortos] (2001).

– Benito PÉREZ GALDÓS (1843-1920), “Crónicas futuras de Gran Canaria” (1866).

– [La Vanguardia: 28 de diciembre de 1989] (1889).

– José Luis GARCI (1944-), “Efemérides”, in [Bibidibabidibu] (1970) and [La Gioconda está triste y otras extrañas historias] (1976) // “Última crónica desde Houston”, in [La Gioconda está triste y otras extrañas historias] (1976).

– Francisco AYALA (1906-2009), [“Recortes del diario Las Noticias, de ayer”], in [El jardín de las delicias] (1971).

– Antonio LARRETA (1922-), Volavérunt (1980).

– Luis LÓPEZ NIEVES (1950-), “Seva” (1983).

– Óscar de LA BORBOLLA (1949-), “La emancipación de los locos”, “Los suicidas novedosos”, “Se acabó el futuro”, “Viva la inteligencia, muera la tele”, “Un nuevo partido político”, “¡Llueve sangre!”, “La puerta de la muerte”, “El gran descubrimiento”, “La ley de la compensación universal”, in [Ucronías] (1989).

– Javier FERNÁNDEZ (1971-), “Cero absoluto”, in Cero absoluto (2005).

– Antonio RÓMAR (1981-); Pablo MAZO AGÜERO (1977-), “Científicos y militares toman el control de los muertos de Castañar” (2014).

– Patrícia GABANCHO (1952-2017), Crònica de l’independència (2008).

– Paschal GROUSSET (1844-1909), Le Rêve d’un irréconciliable (1869).

– Auguste de VILLIERS DE L’ISLE-ADAM (1838-1889), “Le Couronnement de M. Grévy” (1887) / “La couronne présidentielle”, in [Chez les passants] (1889).

– Iwan GILKIN (1858-1924), “San Francisco’s Herald”, in Jonas (1900).

– *Les Ailes de la victoire (1913).

– Louis BAUDRY DE SAUNIER (1865-1938), *Comment Paris a été détruit en six heures le 20 avril 1924 (Le jour de Pâques) (1921).

– Nicolas Mª RUBIO (1891-1981), Le Réveil de l’Afrique (1936).

– Antoine BELLO (1970-), Éloge de la pièce manquante (1998).

– Benoît PEETERS (1956-), Les Portes du possible (2005).

– Jean-Pierre LAIGLE (Jean-Pierre MOUMON, 1947-), “Les Trouble-fête” (2008).

– Gérard de SENNEVILLE, “Les moustiques de Pissevaches”, in [Le Merveilleux Voyage en France d’Omar ben Alala et autres contes du futur] (2002) //“Nouvelles brèves”, “Changement de plaques”, “La politique littéraire commune (PCL)”, “Dopage dans la course à la Présidence”, in [Le Voyage en enfer d’Omar Ben Ali et autres contes du futur] (2011).

– Cornelius OMESCU (1936-2001), “Oamenii albaștri”, in [Întâmplări de necrezut (Parodii ştiinţifico-fantastice)] (1975) // [Lumea de poimâine: Știri din secolul 22] (1982).

ORAL HISTORY

– William TENN (1920-2010), “The Liberation of Earth” (1953), in [Of All Possible Worlds] (1955).

-Max BROOKS (1972-), World War Z (2006) // “Closure, Limited” (2010).

– Howard BURMAN, Gentlemen at the Bat: A Fictional Oral History of the New York Knickerbockers and the Early Days of Base Ball (2010).

– John SCALZI (1969-), “Unlocked: An Oral History of Haden’s Syndrome” (2014).

– Òscar PÀMIES (1961-), [“Testimonis personals”] en [Com serà la fi del món] (1996).

– Camille MAUCLAIR (Camille Laurent Célestin Faust, 1872-1945), “La mort mécanique”, in [Les Clefs d’Or] (1897).

– Liviu RADU (1948-2015), Chestionar pentru doamne care au fost secretarele unor bărbaţi foarte cumsecade (2011).

SLIGHTLY NOVELISED FICTIONAL HISTORY

– Grant ALLEN (1848-1899), “The Empress of Andorra” (1878), in [Strange Stories] (1884).

– Mark TWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens, 1835-1910), The Secret History of Eddypus, the World-Empire [1901-1902], in [Fables of Man] (1972).

– E. [Elwyin] B. [Brooks] WHITE (1899-1985), “The Supremacy of Uruguay” (1933), in [Quo Vadimus or the Case for the Bicycle] (1939).

– William TENN (Philip Klass, 1920-2010), “The Masculinist Revolt” (1965), in [The Wooden Star] (1968).

– Mary GENTLE(1956-), Ash: A Secret History (1999).

– José María PEMÁN (1897-1981), “Historia del buen rey Totem” (1925), in [Cuentos sin importancia] (1926).

– Sergio RAMÍREZ (1942-), “Los graneros del Rey”, “La banda del Presidente”, in [Cuentos] (1963).

– Manuel MUJICA LÁINEZ (1910-1984), De milagros y melancolías (1968).

– Angélica GORODISCHER (1928-), “Acerca de ciudades que crecen descontroladamente”, in [Kalpa imperial] (1983).

– Eduardo Ladislao HOLMBERG (1852-1937), Olimpio Pitango de Monalia (1994 [1915]).

– Luis Antonio de VILLENA (1951-), Huesos de Sodoma (2004).

– Pau FANER (1949-), Potser només la fosca (1979).

– Anatole FRANCE (François Anatole Thibault, 1844-1924), L’Île des Pingouins (1908).

– Marcel THIRY (1897-1977), “Le concerto pour Anne Queur” (1949), in [Nouvelles du grand possible] (1960).

– Jacques PRÉVERT (1900-1977), Lettre des îles Baladar (1952).

– Sylvain JOUTY (1949-), “Queen Kong” (1994), in [Queen Kong] (2001).

– Toni BERTHER (1927-2015), “Ils ratuns vegnan” (1951/1955), in Carstgauns e ratuns (1983).

– Ursicin G. [Gion] G. [Gieli] DERUNGS (1935-), “Il papa che saveva buca crer en Diu” (1987), în [Il cavalut verd ed auter] (1988).

– Giovanni FERRUCCI, [Novelle atlantide] (1956).

– Nino FADDA (1940-), Pissighende su tempus benidore (2003).

– Ovid S. CROHMĂLNICEANU (Moise Cohn, 1921-2000), “Tratatul de la Neuhof”, in [Istorii insolite] (1980).

FICTIONAL HISTORY IN GERMAN (ALL TYPES)

– August NIEMANN (1839-1919), *Der Weltkrieg – Deutsche Träume (1904).

– Carl BLIEBTREU (1859-1928), *Die ‘Offensiv-Invasion’ gegen England (1907).

– Gustav Adolf MELCHERS, Der Vergangenheit unserer Zukunft? (1908).

– Adolf SOMMERFELD (1870-1931), Frankreichs Ende im Jahr 19?? (1912/1914).

– Max HEINRICHKA, *100 Jahre deutsche Zukunft (1913).

– FERENCZY Árpád (1877-1930), Timotheus Thümmel und seine Ameisen (1923).

– L. DETRE (Ladislaus Deutsch, 1874-1939), Kampf Zweier Welten (1935).

– Karl BRUGGER (1941-1985), Die Chronik von Akakor (1976).

– Wolfgang HILDESHEIMER (1916-1991), “1956 – Ein Pilzjahr”, in [Lieblose Legenden] (1952) // Marbot (1981).

SPECULATIVE JOURNALISTIC REPORT (REPORTAGE) in form of chronicles, interviews, witness reports, etc. combined by the journalist and told from his or her perspective

*: set in present times

– Whitley STRIEBER (1945-); James KUNETKA, Warday and the Journey Onward (1984).

– Afonso Henriques de LIMA BARRETO (1881-1922), *Os Bruzundangas (1923).

– Ramon COMAS I MADUELL (1935-1978), “L’evaporació”, in [Rescat d’ambaixadors] (1970).

– Jean JULLIEN (1854-1909), Enquête sur le monde futur (1909).

– Louis FOREST (1872-1933), *On vole des enfants à Paris (1909).

– Nicolas Mª RUBIO (1891-1981), Le Réveil de l’Afrique (1936).

GEOGRAPHIC AND ETHNOGRAPHIC SPECULATIVE DOCUMENTARY FICTION

It includes “urbogonies” or descriptions of imaginary cities

º: peoples from the archaeological past.

– Horace Mitchell MINER (1912-1993), “Body Ritual Among the Nacirema” (1956).

– Willard WALKER (1927-2009), “The Retention of Folk Linguistic Concepts and the ti’yčir Caste in Contemporary Nacireman Culture” (1970).

– Robert Alun JONES, “Myth and Symbol Among the Nacirema Tsigoloicos: A Fragment” (1975/1980).

– Ursula K. [Kroeber] LE GUIN (1929-2018), [“The Back of the Book”], in Always Coming Home (1985).

– Helene E. HAGAN (1939-), “The People of Niram” (1998), in [Fifty Years in America] (2013).

– Joel E. DIMSDALE, “The Nacirema Revisited” (2001).

– Benjamin ROSENBAUM (1969-), [Other Cities] (2003).

– FERREIRA GULLAR (José RIBAMAR FERREIRA, 1930-2016), [Cidades Inventadas] (1997).

– Octávio dos SANTOS (1965-), “Caminos de ferro”, in [Visões] (2003).

– Juan ITURRALDE Y SUIT (1840-1909), “La ínsula de los Penelópidas” (1892).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius” (1940), “La lotería en Babilonia” (1941), in [El jardín de senderos que se bifurcan] (1941) / [Ficciones] (1944) / “La secta del Fénix” (1952), in [Ficciones] (1956) // “El informe de Brodie”, in [El informe de Brodie] (1970) // “La secta de los Treinta”, in [El libro de arena] (1975).

– Miguel ESPINOSA (1926-1982), La filosofía política mandarinesca (1956).

– Cristóbal SERRA (1922-2012), Viaje a Cotiledonia (1965) – Retorno a Cotiledonia (1989).

– Héctor A. MURENA (1923-1975), “La evolución del trabajo”, in [El coronel de caballería y otros cuentos] (1971).

– Pedro GÓMEZ VALDERRAMA (1923-1992), “Los papeles de la Academia Utópica”, in [La procesión de los ardientes] (1973).

– René AVILÉS FABILA (1940-2016), “La importancia de ser mutilado”, in [La desaparición de Hollywood y otras sugerencias para principiar un libro] (1973) and [Fantasías en carrusel] (1978/1995/2001).

– Fernando DURÁN AYANEGUI (1939-), “Gloria in excelsis”, in [El benefactor y otros relatos] (1981).

– Ileana VICENTE [ARMENTEROS] (1946-), “Primer informe” (1981).

– Elia BARCELÓ (1957-), “Apuntes sobre el culto de la Dama Dragón”, in “La Dama Dragón” (1981), in [Sagrada] (1989).

– José FERRATER MORA (1912-1991), “Que trata de Corona, el país y los habitantes”, in Hecho en Corona (1986).

– Gloria MÉNDEZ (1969-), º“¿De dónde vienen los acosha?: Historia de un pueblo sin memoria”, º“Yad Hamrá: matrimonio y erótica acosha”, º“Los cram o el sistema Ana Kristeva”, in [El informe Kristeva] (1997).

– Federico JEANMAIRE (1957-), ºLos zumitas (1999).

– León ARSENAL (José Antonio Álvaro Garrido, 1960-), “Nota preliminar”, in Máscaras de matar (2004).

– Lola ROBLES (1963-), “Aanuk”, in El informe Monteverde (2005).

– Juan Ignacio FERRERAS (1929-2014), “La Nueva Era”, in La Gran Necrópolis (2006).

– Cristina PERI ROSSI (1941-), “Banderas”, “Suicidios S.A.”, “El patriotismo”, in [Cuentos reunidos] (2007).

– Sofía RHEI (Sofía GONZÁLEZ CALVO, 1978-), [Las ciudades reversibles] (2008).

– Mària Aurèlia CAPMANY (1918-1991), “Leviatan”, in [Com uma mà] (1958) / [Coses i noses] (1980).

– Nicolau Maria RUBIÓ I TUDURÍ (1891-1981), “Gzwrrawtzicxm”, in [Un crim abstracte o el jardiner assassinat] (1965).

– Mercè RODOREDA (1908-1983), [“Viatges a uns quants pobles”], in [Viatges i flors] (1980).

– Jordi GORT, [Extractes del manual de supervivencia estelar 3] (2014).

– Victor CONSIDÉRANT (1808-1893), Publication complète des nouvelles découvertes de Sir John Herschel dans le ciel austral et dans la Lune (1836).

– Paul VALÉRY (1871-1945), º“L’Île Xiphos” [1896], in [Histoires brisées] (1950).

– FRANC-NOHAIN (Maurice Étienne Legrand, 1873-1934), “Le Pays de l’Instar”, in [Le Pays de l’Instar] (1901).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), º“Origines du journal: L’Île des Diurnales”, in [Mœurs des Diurnales: Traité de journalisme] (1903; como Loyson-Bridet).

– Henri MICHAUX (1899-1984), Voyage en Grande Garabagne (1936), Au pays de la magie (1941), Ici, Poddema (1946), in [Ailleurs] (1948) // “La secret de la situation politique”, in [Face aux verrous] (1951/1967).

– Pierre BETTENCOURT (1917-2006), La planète Aréthuse (1969), L’Homme-million (1969), Le Roi des méduses (1984/1991), Voyage sur la planète innommée (1990), in [Histoire naturelle de l’imaginaire] (2007).

– Didier ANZIEU (1923-1999), “Les esquimaux et les songes”, in [Contes à rebours] (1975/1987/1995).

– Gilbert LASCAULT (1934-), Un Îlot tempéré (1977) // Encyclopédie abrégée de l’Empire Vert (1983).

– Alain NADAUD (1948-2015), “Exil en Grande-Scripturie”, in [Voyage au pays des bords du gouffre] (1984).

– Sylvain JOUTY (1949-), “Les dieux de l’Illusion”, in [La Visite au tombeau de mes ancêtres] (1995) // “Les démons du galet” (2000), “Les Veustes”, in [Queen Kong] (2001).

– Bernard SIMONAY (1951-), “Étude sur Gwondà et la Vallée des Neuf Cités”, en [La Vallée des Neuf Cités] (2007).

– Pierre JOURDE (1955-), Carnets d’un voyageur zulu dans les banlieues en feu (2007).

– Bernard QUIRINY (1978-), “Quiproquopolis (Comment parlent les Yapous)”, in [Contes cannibales] (2008) // [“Dix villes”], in [Une collection très particulière] (2012) // “La capitale décapitée” en [Histoires assassines] (2015).

– Tobie NATHAN (1948-), “Glossaire en code natif”, in [L’Étranger ou la part de l’autre] (2014).

– Reto CARATSCH (1901-1978), “Il pajais dal vacuna”, “Eviva l’amur!”, “Il pro da la faira litteraria”, “S-chet patagon”, “Spiert e mazurca”, in La renaschentscha dals Patagons (1949).

– Giovanni PAPINI (1881-1956), “Racconto dell’isola”, in [Gog] (1931) // “Il regno dei Karseni” (1941), “Armuria” (1942), “I figli del sole” (1942), in [Foglie della foresta] (1946) // “La città della gioia” (1949), “Una strana città”, in [Le pazzie del poeta] (1950) // “Ascenzia”, in [Il libro nero] (1951).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “L’isola” (1940), “La vita è un sogno” (1944), “Paese senza morte”, “Mamamel e Vusitel”, in [L’epidemia] (1944/1956) // “Città dei mobili” (1947).

– Augusto FRASSINETI (1911-1985), “Prima lettera”, in [Misteri dei Ministeri] (1952/1974).

– Dino BUZZATI (1906-1972), “Un popolo felice”, in [Siamo spiacenti di] (1960/1975).

– Umberto ECO (1932-), “Industria e repressione sessuale in una società padana”, in [Diario minimo] (1963/1975) // “Come presentare in TV” (1987), in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Lia WAINSTEIN (1919-2001), “Cittabella”, “Olindo Lindi: Viaggio in Drimonia”, in [Viaggio in Drimonia] (1965).

– Italo CALVINO (1923-1985), [Le città invisibili] (1972) // “Apologo sull’onestà nel paese dei corrotti” (1980).

– Gianni CELATI (1937-), Fata Morgana (1987-2005).

– Pavel VASICI (1806-1881), “Geografia țintirimului” (1840).

– Ştefan ZELETIN (1882-1934), Din Ţara Măgarilor. Însemnări (1916).

– Gheorghe SĂSĂRMAN (1941-), [Cuadratura cercului] (1975/2001).

– Mihail GRĂMESCU (1951-2014), “Felonia”, “Vânatorii de capete”, in [Aporisticon] (1981/2012).

ETHNOGRAPHIC REPORTS ON HUMANS WRITTEN BY NON-HUMAN SENTIENT SPECIES

– Stefan THEMERSON (1910-1988), Professor Mmaa’s Lecture (1953).

– Leó SZILÁRD (1898-1964), “Report on Grand Central Terminal” (1952), in [The Voice of the Dolphins and Other Stories] (1961).

– André MAUROIS (Émile Salomon Wilhelm Herzog, 1885-1967), “La Vie des hommes”, in [Deux Fragments d’une histoire universelle 1992] (1928).

– Paul GABRIEL, Messages martiens (1956).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “La Peau d’un autre”, in [Rêveries d’un Martien en exil] (1976).

– Bernard WERBER (1961-), “Apprenons à les aimer”, in [L’Arbre des possibles et autres histoires] (2002) // Nos amis les Terriens, petit guide de découverte (2007).

– Arturo LEZCANO (1939-), “Peixes voadores non identificados” (1991), in [Os dados de Deus] (1994).

– Miguel VALE DE ALMEIDA (1960-), “O Relatório” (2000).

– Nilo María FABRA (1843-1903), “En el planeta Marte” (1890), in [Cuentos ilustrados] (1895).

– José María SALAVERRÍA (1873-1940), “El planeta prodigioso” / Un mundo al descubierto (1924/1929).

– José Luis SAMPEDRO (1917-2013), “Un caso de cosmoetnología: la religión hispánica” (1959), in [Mientras la tierra gira] (1993).

– Max AUB (1903-1972), “Manuscrito cuervo. Historia de Jacobo” (1952), in [Cuentos ciertos] (1955).

– Juan Pablo ORTEGA (1924-), Los terrícolas (1976).

– Josep SOLÉ NICOLÁS, “Noticias sensacionalistas” (1979).

– Jorge CAMPOS (Jorge RENALES FERNÁNDEZ, 1916-1983), *“Un astro muerto”, in [Bombas, astros y otras lejanías] (1992).

– Régis MESSAC (1893-1945), “De plus loin que Sirius.– Extraits du journal de recherches du physicien Blivit-Ornot, habitant du supermonde du 2^e échelon” (1937).

– Giovanni PAPINI (1881-1956), “Primo rapporto dei marziani” (1950), in [La sesta parte del mondo] (1954).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “Primo rapporto sulla Terra dell’“inviato speciale””, in [L’epidemia] (1956).

– Mario SOLDATI (1906-1999), “Un’inchiesta di Alfa centauri” (1964).

– Primo LEVI (1919-1987), “Visto da lontano” (1967), in [Vizio di forma] (1971).

– Nichita STĂNESCU (1933-1983), “Dintr-un abecedar marțian”, In [Respirări] (1982).

– Vladimir COLIN (Jean Colin, 1921-1991), “Întâlnirea”, in [Dinţii lui Cronos] (1975).

MOCK TRAVEL GUIDES

– Rhoda BLUMBERG (1917-2016), The First Travel Guide to the Moon (1980).

– Santo CILAURO (1961-), Tom GLEISNER (1962-); Rob SITCH (1962-), Molvanîa: A Land Untouched by Modern Dentistry (2003) // Phaic Tăn: Sunstroke on a Shoestring (2004) // San Sombrèro: A Land of Carnivals, Cocktails and Coups (2006).

– Salvador ELIZONDO (1932-2006), “Los museos de Metaxiphos”, in [Camera lucida] (1983).

– Benoît PEETERS (1956-), Le Guide des cités (2002/2011).

– Gemelli RUGGERI (Luciano MANZALINI, 1952-; Eraldo TURRA, 1955-), Guida a Croda (1993).

FICTIONAL TOPOTHESIA

Fictions consisting in pure descriptions of imaginary buildings (including their interior and surroundings), as well as imaginary gardens and ruins. It can include human characters only to illustrate the conditions of habitation. Fictions are excluded in which the constructions only constitute the framework in which a story develops.

*: in verse.

– Antonio FLORES (1818-1865), “El árbol de la publicidad”, “El Gran Hotel de la Unidad Transatlántica”, in [Mañana, o la chispa eléctrica en 1899], third volumen of [Ayer, hoy y mañana, o la fe, el vapor y la electricidad] (1863).

– AZORÍN (José MARTÍNEZ RUIZ, 1873-1967), “La casa, la calle y el camino” (1904), in [Tiempos y cosas] (1944).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), “La biblioteca de Babel” (1941), in [El jardín de senderos que se bifurcan] (1941) / [Ficciones] (1944/1956).

– Salvador ELIZONDO (1932-2006), “Los museos de Metaxiphos”, in [Camera lucida] (1983).

– Pablo RODRÍGUEZ BURÓN (1980-), “La casa de la memoria”, in Turistia (2016).

– Victor CONSIDERANT (1808-1893), Description du phalanstère (1848).

– Léon DIERX (1838-1912), *“La ruine”, in [Les Lèvres closes] (1879).

– Theo CANDINAS (1929-), “Descripziun d’in stabiliment”, in [Entagls] (1974).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “Città dei mobili” (1947).

– Alexandru MACEDONSKI (1854-1920), “Palatul fermecat” (1881) / “Palatul fermecat”, in [Cartea de aur] (1902/1973).

FICTIONAL ARCHAEOLOGY AND RELATED TEXTS

– “The Book of Oatiati” (1873).

– Andrew LANG (1844-1912), “The Great Gladstone Myth” (1886), in [In the Wrong Paradise and Other Stories] (1886).

– Leó SZILÁRD (1898-1964), “Report on Grand Central Terminal” (1952), in [The Voice of the Dolphins and Other Stories] (1961).

– Robert NATHAN (1894-1985), “Digging the Weans” (1956) – “A Further Report on the Weans” (1959) / The Weans (1960).

– Serafín ADAME MUÑOZ (1828-1875), Napoleón no ha existido jamás (1850).

– Gonzalo MARTRÉ (Mario Trejo González, 1928-), “Los antiguos mexicanos a través de sus ruinas y sus vestigios” (2001).

– Jean-Baptiste PÉRÈS (1752-1840), Comme quoi Napoléon n’a jamais existé ou Grand Erratum, source d’un nombre infini d’errata à noter dans l’histoire du XIX^e siècle (1827).

– Alfred FRANKLIN (1830-1917), Mœurs et coutumes des Parisiens en 1880. Cours professé au Collège de France pendant le second semestre de l’année 3882 par Alfred Mantien, professeur d’archéologie transcendante (1882).

– Albert MILLAUD (1844-1892), “La statue de Gambetta en l’an 2000” (1888).

– Gaston de PAWLOWSKI (1874-1933), “Curiosités historiques.– Usages, mœurs et coutumes du siècle dernier” (1901).

– Étienne JOLICLER, “Chronique en l’an 2001” (1902).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), “Origines du journal: L’Île des Diurnales”, in [Mœurs des Diurnales: Traité de journalisme] (1903; as Loyson-Bridet).

– Louis LOTTIN (1880-1916), “Le Trésor des pierres”, in [Lyon en l’an 2000] (1911).

– Régis MESSAC (1893-1945), “Fragments du journal d’Acapsu, technicien de l’an 3340” (1932) // “Couronne de perles et croix de bois.– Extraits des papiers de CB2/1!=WRNZ, préhistorien de l’an 10.033” (1933).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “SPQR”, in [Racconti impossibili] (1966).

– Tudor ARGHEZI (Ion N. Theodorescu, 1880-1967), “În preistorie”, in [Tablete din Ţara de Kuty] (1933).

– Vladimir COLIN (Jean Colin, 1921-1991), “Postfață”, in [Legendele Țării lui Vam] (1961).

FICTIONAL MYTHOGRAPHY

Fictional mythographies are mythopoetic creations imitating the form of prose mythographical reports. Since they are fictional, invented mythologies that are really intended to be inspired by the deity with a view to fostering a religion are excluded. Mitographies presented as translations from any alleged oral tradition coming from existing peoples are also included, even if the original text of the oral myths in the original language has not been transcribed. Theological and scientific-like myths are also excluded.

Mitographic discourse is characterized by the predominance of narrativity, which is always heterodiegetic. It is a kind of historiographical narrative, since mythology constitutes a sacred history, although the mythological narrative admits a greater rhetorical decoration and does not exclude narrative omniscience, although this is generally limited. By the nature of its discourse, mythography excludes monologues and novelistic conversations. Its characters are gods, demigods and humans in direct contact with them.

– Lord DUNSANY (1878-1957), [The Gods of Pegāna] (1905).

– J. R. R. TOLKIEN (1892-1973), [The Silmarillion] (1977).

– Ursula K. LE GUIN (1929-2018), “Beginnings”, in Always Coming Home (1985).

– Tudor ARGHEZI (1880-1967), “Bătrânii Insulei de Aur” (1925) / “Bătrânii din insula”, in [Cartea cu jucării] (1931/1943) / [Ce-ai cu mine, vântule?] (1937).

– Mihai MĂNIUŢIU (1954-), “Un zeu aproape muritor”, in [Un zeu aproape muritor] (1982).

– Gianni CELATI (1937-), “La tenda del cielo”, in [Fata Morgana] (1987-2005).

– Henri MICHAUX (1899-1984), [Fables des origines] (1923).

– Pompeu GENER (1848-1920), “Una teogonia índia” (1901) / “Antic poem del Indostan (Una teogonia vishnuita)”, in [Pensant, sentint i rient] (1911).

– SALARRUÉ (Salvador Salazar Arrué, 1899-1975), [O’Yarkandal] (1929).

– Gabriel CELAYA (1911-1991), “Origen”, in Tentativas (1946).

– Víctor CONDE (Alfredo Moreno Santana, 1973-), “Mitos y leyendas”, in [La Orfíada] (2017).

– Roberto GONZÁLEZ-QUEVEDO (1953-), “L’aniciu de los dioses ya de las cousas”, in [Hestoria de la l.literatura primera en Pesicia] (2014).

– Vladimir COLIN (Jean Colin, 1921-1991), “Postfață”, in [Legendele Țării lui Vam] (1961).

FICTIONAL COSMOGONIES

Ethnographical accounts of existing mythologies are excluded. Also works in German.

MYTHOLOGICAL COSMOGONIES

*: literary mythographic rewriting of existing cosmogonies.

Prose

– Lord DUNSANY (1878-1957), [The Gods of Pegāna] (1905).

– J. R. R. TOLKIEN (1892-1973), “Ainulindalë”, in [The Silmarillion] (1977).

– Ursula K. LE GUIN (1929-2018), “Beginnings”, in Always Coming Home (1985).

– Gustavo Adolfo BÉCQUER (1836-1870), *“La creación” (1861).

– José ANTICH, “Ilusión”, in Andrógino (1904).

– AZORÍN (José MARTÍNEZ RUIZ, 1873-1967), “Leopardi”, in [Fantasías y devaneos] (1920)

– SALARRUÉ (Salvador Salazar Arrué, 1899-1975), “Alm-a”, in [O’Yarkandal] (1929).

– Gabriel CELAYA (1911-1991), “Origen”, in Tentativas (1946).

– Miguel Ángel ASTURIAS (1899-1974), “Los brujos de la tormenta primaveral”, in [Leyendas de Guatemala], 2.ª edición (1948).

– Mario VARGAS LLOSA (1936-), *El hablador (1987).

– Roberto GONZÁLEZ-QUEVEDO (1953-), “L’aniciu de los dioses ya de las cousas”, in [Hestoria de la l.literatura primera en Pesicia] (2014).

– Pompeu GENER (1848-1920), “Una teogonia índia” (1901) / “Antic poem del Indostan (Una teogonia vishnuita)”, in [Pensant, sentint i rient] (1911).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), *“Vie de Morphiel démiurge” (1895).

– Henri MICHAUX (1899-1984), [Fables des origines] (1923).

– Olivier de BOUVEIGNES (Léon Guébels, 1889-1966), *“La création et les premiers jours du monde”, in [Contes d’Afrique] (1927).

– Jean-Pierre OTTE (1949-), *[Les aubes enchantées] (1994).

– Giacomo LEOPARDI (1798-1737), “Storia del genere umano” [1824], in [Operette morali] (1827).

– Vincenzo CARDARELLI (1887-1959), *[Favole della Genesi] (1919-1920/1925).

– Anna BONACCI (1892-1981), *“Genesi” (1939).

– Gianni CELATI (1937-), “La tenda del cielo”, in [Fata Morgana] (1987/2005).

– Ion DRAGOSLAV (Ion Ivanciuc, 1875-1928), *[Facerea lumii] (1908/1925).

Verse

– Rudolf PANNWITZ (1881-1969), Das Lied vom Elen (1919).

– Holly Dworken COOLEY, “A Creation Myth” (2008).

– GUERRA JUNQUEIRO (1850-1923), *“O génesis”, in [A velhice do Padre Eterno] (1885).

– Raul BOPP (1898-1984), *“Princípio” (1946), in [Poesias] (1947) and [Cobra Norato e outros poemas] (1951).

– Juan AROLAS (1805-1849), *“La creación” (1841), in [Poesías] (1842).

– Augusto ROA BASTOS (1917-2005), *[El génesis de los guaraníes] (1948).

– Miguel Ángel ASTURIAS (1899-1974), Clarivigilia primaveral (1965).

– Jorge GUILLÉN (1893-1984), *“Creador y creación”, in [Y otros poemas] (1973).

– Llorenç RIBER (1881-1958), *“L’obra dels sis dies” (1904), in [Al sol alt] (1949).

– Charles Marie René LECONTE DE LISLE (1818-1894), *“La légende des Nornes” (1858), in [Poésies barbares] (1862) / *“La Genèse polynésienne” (1857), in [Poèmes barbares] (1872/1878).

– André de GUERNE (1853-1912), *“Les Créations d’Ahoûra-Mazdâ”, in [L’Orient antique] (1890).

– Auguste GÉNIN (1862-1931), *“La Genèse aztèque”, in [Poèmes aztèques] (1890) / [Légendes et récits du Mexique ancien] (1922).

– Maurice BOUCHOR (1855-1929), *“La Terre et l’Amour”, in [Les Symboles] (1888).

– Maurice OLIVAINT (1860-1929), *“Taaroa”, in [Fleurs de corail] (1900).

– Alexis KAGAME (1912-1981), *[La Divine Pastorale] (1952-1955).

– François BROUSSE (1913-1995), *“Genèse hindoue” (1956), in [Le Rire des dieux] (2006).

– Christine HARDY, “Conte d’Il”, in [Paysages d’infini] (1983).

– Giuseppe UNGARETTI (1888-1970), *[Favole indie della Genesi] (1946).

THEOLOGICAL COSMOGONIES

Prose

– John Ballou NEWBROUGH (1828-1891), Oahspe (1882/1891).

– Eric Frank RUSSELL (1905-1978), “Sole Solution” (1956), in [Dark Tides] (1962).

– Benigno Baldomero LUGONES (1857-1884), “Isis” (1881).

+ Enrique ANDERSON IMBERT (1910-2000), “Caos y creación”, in [El gato de Cheshire] (1965).

– Jorge CAMPOS (Jorge Renales Fernández, 1916-1983), “El Ser, el Dios, el Todo” (1973), in [Bombas, astros y otras lejanías] (1992).

– Juan Pedro APARICIO (1941-), “Dios”, in [La mitad del diablo] (2006).

– Òscar PÀMIES (1961-), “La creació del món», in [Com serà la fi del món] (1996).

– George SAND (Aurore Dupin, 1804-1876), “Le Poème de Myrza” (1835).

– Renée VIVIEN (Pauline Mary Tarn, 1877-1909), “La Genèse profane”, in [Brumes de fjords] (1902).

– Han RYNER (1861-1938), “Sacrifices” (1902), in [Les Voyages de Psychodore, philosophe cynique] (1903) / “La dernières parabole” (1906), in [Les Paraboles cyniques] (1912).

– Didier ANZIEU (1923-1999), “Dieu créa la femme”, “Un sommeil divin”, in [Contes à rebours] (1975/1987/1995).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “Les origines”, in Vies parallèles de Roman Branchu (1978) // “Mésaventures de Dieu», in [La Rose réaliste] (1985).

– Jean d’ORMESSON (1925-2017), Dieu, sa vie, son œuvre (1981).

– Vincenzo CARDARELLI (Nazareno Caldarelli, 1887-1959), “Il fuoco” (1919), in [Favole della Genesi] (1919-1921) / [Favole e memorie] (1925).

– Ion PILLAT (1891-1945), “Oglinda” (1922).

– Tudor ARGHEZI (1880-1967), “Geneza și apocalipsa”, in [Ce-ai cu mine, vântule?] (1937) // “Uriașii”, in [Cartea cu jucării] (1943).

Verse

– Ian WATSON (1943-), “Let There Be Darkness: An Origin Myth”, in [The Lexicographer’s Love Song and Other Poems] (2001).

– Antero de QUENTAL (1842-1891), “Fiat lux!” [1863], in [Raios de extinta luz] (1892).

– José FERNÁNDEZ BREMÓN (1839-1910), “El Bien y el Mal” (1868).

– Àngel GUIMERÀ (1845-1924), “Creació”, in [Segon llibre de poesies] (1920).

– Gustave de LANOUE (1812-1838), “Éden ou la création”, in [Énosh] (1837).

– Sully PRUDHOMME (René François Armand Prudhomme, 1839-1907), Les Destins (1872).

– Edmond HARAUCOURT (1856-1941), “Le coït des atomes”, in [La Légende des sexes] (1882; as Edmond de Chambley) / “Les atomes”, in [L’Âme nue] (1885).

– Jean RICHEPIN (1849-1926), “Le mystère de la création”, in [Les Blasphèmes] (1884).

– Jean RAMEAU (Laurent Labaigt, 1858-1942), “La légende de la Terre”, in [La vie et la mort] (1886).

– Niccolò TOMMASEO (1802-1874), “Il germe dei mondi”, in [Poesie] (1872).

– Alexandru MACEDONSKI (1854-1920), “Creaţiunea” (1874).

SCIENTIFIC COSMOGONIES (WRITTEN AS LITERATURE, NOT PUBLISHED AS PAPERS IN SCIENTIFIC JOURNALS)

Prose

– Edgar Allan POE (1809-1849), Eureka (1848).

– Joaquín BARTRINA (1850-1880), “La formación del mundo” (1870).

– Augusto GONZÁLEZ DE LINARES (1845-1904), La vida de los astros (1878).

– Gregorio MARTÍNEZ SIERRA (María de la O LEJÁRRAGA, 1874-1974), “Lucha eterna”, in [El poema del trabajo] (1898).

– Leopoldo LUGONES (1874-1938), “Ensayo de una cosmogonía en diez lecciones”, in [Las fuerzas extrañas] (1906).

– Nuria AMAT (1950-), “Big bang”, in [Monstruos] (1991).

– Edgar QUINET (1803-1875), La Création (1870).

– Auguste BLANQUI (1805-1881), L’Éternité par les astres (1872).

– Étienne KLEIN (1958-), Discours sur l’origine de l’univers (2010).

– Giacomo LEOPARDI (1798-1837), “Frammento apocrifo di Stratone da Lampsaco”, in [Operette morali] (1845 [1825]).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “Da: L’astronomia esposta al popolo. Nozioni d’astronomia sideronebulare”, in [Il mare delle blatte e altre storie] (1939).

Verse

– Mathilde BLIND (Mathilde Cohen, 1841-1896), “Chaunts of Life”, in [The Ascent of Man] (1888).

– Grant ALLEN (1848-1899), “A Ballade of Evolution”, in [The Lower Slopes] (1894).

– James E. GUNN (1923-), “Imagine”, in The Listeners (1972).

– Teófilo BRAGA (1843-1924), “O firmamento”, in “A filosofia”, in en [Miragens seculares] (1884) / [Visão dos tempos] (1894-1895).

– Haroldo de CAMPOS (1929-2003), A Máquina do Mundo Repensada (2000).

– Ricardo MACÍAS PICAVEA (1847-1899), Kosmos (1872).

– Luis TAPIA, “El origen de la Tierra” (1896).

– Carlos FERRER (1845-1919), “Cosmogonía», in [El universo] (1900).

– José LÓPEZ MONTENEGRO (1832-1908), “La Naturaleza”, in [El botón de fuego] (1902).

– Ernesto CARDENAL (1925-), [Cántico cósmico] (1989).

– Louis BOUILHET (1822-1869), Les Fossiles (1854).

– Jules LEFÈVRE-DEUMIER (1797-1857), “Formation de la Terre”, in [Le Couvre-feu] (1857).

– Edmond EMERICH, La Création du globe terrestre (1860).

– CLAIRVILLE (Louis-François Nicolaïe, 1811-1879), “Le Monde antédiluvien” (1863), in [Le Caveau] (1864).

– Émile LITTRÉ (1801-1881), “La Terre” (1867).

– Ernest COTTY (1818-1877), “Antédiluviana” (1875).

– Jules ARBELOT, La Création et l’humanité (1882).

– Henri WARNERY (1859-1902), “Les Origines”, in [Poésies] (1887).

– René GHIL (René Guilbert, 1862-1925), Le Meilleur Devenir (1889).

– J. de STRADA (Gilles Gabriel Delarue, 1821-1902), La Genèse universelle (1890).

– André JOUSSAIN (1880-1969), L’Épopée terrestre (1926-1934-1958).

– Jean CHAMARD (1843-1915), L’Épopée des âges [1874-1879] (1947).

– Marthe DUPUY (1871-1958), “L’Origine du monde”, “Évolution”, in [Au fond des abîmes] (1950).

– Raymond QUENEAU (1903-1976), Petite Cosmogonie portative (1950).

– Robert GOFFIN (1898-1984), [Sablier pour une cosmogonie] (1965).

– Maurice COUQUIAUD (1930-), [Un profil de buée] (1980).

– Cleant SPIRESCU, Cosmos sau cântarea stelelor (1935).

– Adrian ROGOZ (1921-1996), “Miza unei recreaţii”, in [Inima rezistentă] (1981).

COSMIC VISION

From Cicero’s Somnium Scipionis to Olaf Stapledon’s Star Maker: The visionary cosmic voyage as a speculative genre

Stapledon’s Star Maker is an outstanding modern example of a particular genre, the visionary cosmic voyage. In this kind of a literature of a rather descriptive nature, the author usually tells of his/her dream or vision of the universe, depicted according to the scientific knowledge of the time, in order to convey a philosophical and/or astronomical cosmic view. This genre has its origin in the Cicero’s influential Somnium Scipionis. After its allegorical and religious/supernatural imitations throughout the Middle Ages and later on, Kepler’s Somnium adopted a secular protoscience-fictional approach to the genre, the same that Stapledon subsequently embraced. Between these two visionary cosmic voyagers stand several canonical writers who have followed the Ciceronian taproot text to create impressive visions of the universe. Star Maker falls within this tradition, having brought it to its culmination in both ambition and scope, while remaining faithful to Cicero’s and to his best followers’ pattern as to the literary exploitation of the sublime. Cicero’s Somnium Scipionis is, thus, to be considered one of the main ancient forerunners to speculative fiction, due to its status as founder of the visionary cosmic voyage, and to the science-fictional sublime.

*: in verse.

– James HOGG (1770-1835), *The Pilgrims of the Sun (1815).

– Sir Humphrey DAVY (1778-1829), “The Vision”, in [Consolations in Travel, or The Last Days of A Philosopher] (1830).

– Thomas Lake HARRIS (1823-1906), *An Epic of the Starry Heaven (1855).

– James DE MILLE (1833-1880), *Behind the Veil (1893).

– A. E. (George William Russell, 1867-1935), “The Story of a Star” (1894), in [Imaginations and Reveries] (1915).

– H. [Herbert] G. [George] WELLS (1866-1946), “Under the Knife” (1896), in [The Plattner Story and Others] (1897).

– William Shuler HARRIS (1865-?), Life in a Thousand Worlds (1905).

– Clark Ashton SMITH (1893-1961), *“The Star-Trader”, in [The Star-Trader and Other Poems] (1912) // *“The Hashish-Eater; or The Apocalypse of Evil”, in [Ebony and Crystal] (1922).

– H. [Howard] P. [Phillips] LOVECRAFT (1890-1937), *“Aletheia Phrikodes”, in The Poe-et’s Nightmare (1916) (V.).

– Fletcher PRATT (1897-1956), “The Roger Bacon Formula” (1929).

– Olaf STAPLEDON (1886-1950), Star Maker (1937).

– João LÚCIO (1880-1918), *“No caminho infinito”, en [Na Asa do Sonho] (1913).

– Enéas LINTZ (1892-?), Há Dez Mil Séculos (1926).

– Pedro CASTERA (1846-1906), “Un viaje celeste” (1872) / “Un viaje celestial”, in [Impresiones y recuerdos] (1882).

– Carlos MESÍA DE LA CERDA (1825-1919), “El hombre de cristal”, in [El saquillo de mi abuela] (1875).

– Carlos Octavio BUNGE (1875-1918), “Viaje a través de la estirpe”, in [Viaje a través de la estirpe y otras narraciones] (1908).

– Amado NERVO (1870-1919), *“Yo estaba en el espacio”, in [En voz baja] (1909).

– Dr. ATL (Gerardo Murillo, 1875-1964), Un hombre más allá del universo (1935).

– Valentí ALMIRALL (1841-1904), “Un manuscrit de savi o de boig” (como Thales; 1880).

– G. DESCOTTES, Voyage dans les planètes et découverte des véritables destinées de l’homme (1864).

– Camille FLAMMARION (1842-1925), “Lumen”, in [Récits de l’infini] (1872) / Lumen (1887) // “Voyage dans le ciel”, in [Rêves étoiles] (1888).

– Edmond HARAUCOURT (1856-1941), *“L’étape”, in [L’âme nue] (1885).

– Jean RAMEAU (1858-1942), *“Rêve”, in [La vie et la mort] (1886).

– Joseph MAGGINI, *“Vision de bonheur”, in [La voix du souvenir] (1934).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “Voyage nocturne”, in [La rose réaliste] (1985).

– Giulio GIANELLI (1879-1914), *“Vita nello spazio” (1912), in [Poesie] (1934).

– Giovanni BOTTINELLI, Fantasie cosmiche (1938).

FICTIONAL SCIENTIFIC PAPERS

(texts of a literary nature using the discourse of mathematics and natural sciences, in English, German, or any Romance language; except publications in scientific journals, parodic or not, called “spoof papers”)

Scientific spoof papers as a literary and fictional genre encompass the works where fantastical content is infused into any text that methodically and consistently presents the standard rhetorical features of the scientific discourse usual in real scientific practice, especially in the natural sciences, thus achieving literariness through fictionalization. A representative example of this genre are the papers by Isaac Asimov on the imaginary molecule called thiotimoline, which can be seen as central in a long historical series of works belonging to this discursive genre from Gustav Fechner in the 19^th century to contemporary authors. Among them, there are a number of writers known for their absurdist and fantastical works, such as Alfred Jarry, Tommaso Landolfi, Giorgio Manganelli, Georges Saunders, etc.

Natural sciences (including Psychology):

– Augustus C. Fotheringam (Lester W. SHARP, 1887-1961; Cuthbert Bancroft FRASER), Eoörnis Pterovelox Gobiensis (1926).

– Isaac ASIMOV (1920-1992), “The Marvellous Properties of Thiotimoline” (1948-1952), in [Only a Trillion] (1957) // “Thiotimoline and the Space Age” (1960), in [Opus 100] (1969).

– Mark CLIFTON (1906-1963), “The Dread Tomato Addiction” (1958).

– Mark EPERNAY (John Kenneth GALBRAITH, 1908-2006), “The McLandress Dimension” (1962), in [The McLandress Dimension] (1963).

– J. [James] G. [Graham] BALLARD (1930-2009), “Love and Napalm: Export USA”, in [The Atrocity Exhibition] (1970).

– J. [Jeremy] H. [Halvard] PRYNNE (1936-), “The Plant Time Manifold Transcripts” (1975), in [Poems] (1999).

– Thomas A. EASTON (1944-), “The Chicago Plan to Save a Species” (1976).

– Peter DICKINSON (1927-2015), The Flight of Dragons (1979).

– George PEREC (1936-1982), “Experimental Demonstration of the Tomatotopic Organisation in the Soprano (Cantatrix sopranica L.)” (1980).

– Dougal DIXON (1947-), After Man: A Zoology of the Future (1981) // The New Dinosaurs: An Alternative Evolution (1988).

– Steve JACKSON; Ian LIVINGSTONE, Out of the Pit (1985).

– Harry HARRISON (1925-2012), [“The World West of Eden”], in [Return to Eden] (1988).

– Frederick POHL (1919-2013), “Scientific American: ‘Martian Polar Wanderings’”, in The Day the Martians Came (1988).

– Jeff VANDERMEER (1968-); Mark ROBERTS, The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric & Discredited Diseases (2003).

– Dugald STEER (1965-), Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons (2003).

– George SAUNDERS (1958-), “93990”, in [In Persuasion Nation] (2006).

– Dr. Mises (Gustav Theodor FECHNER, 1801-1887), “Beweis, dass der Mond aus Jodine bestehe” (1821), “Öffentliche Sitzung am 1. Juli 1861 über den seitlichen Fenster- und Kerzenversuch” (1821), [“Stapelia mixta”] (1824), “Vergleichende Anatomie der Engel” (1825), [“Vier Paradoxa]” (1846), in [Kleine Schriften] (1875).

– Egon FRIEDELL (1878-1938), “Ist die Erde bewohnt?” (1931).

– Harald Stümpke (Gerolf STEINER, 1908-2009), Bau und Leben der Rhinogradentia (1957).

– Óscar de LA BORBOLLA (1949-), “Informe ucrónico” (1993).

– David ROAS (1965-), “El Hipocrondrio”, in [Horrores cotidianos] (2007).

– Javier FERNÁNDEZ (1971-), “Condiciones que inhiben el discernimiento”, in [La grieta] (2007).

– Vicenç PAGÈS JORDÀ (1963-), “Puella gerundensis” (1996), “Gnocchis”, in [El poeta i altres contes] (2005) / [Exorcismes] (2018).

– Alfred JARRY (1873-1907), “‘Commentaires pour servir à la construction pratique de la machine à voyager dans le temps’ par le Dr. Faustroll” (1899) // “Cynégétique de l’omnibus” (1901), “De quelques animaux nuisibles: le volant” (1902), “Les mœurs des noyés” (1902), in [Spéculations] (1911).

– Camille MAUCLAIR (Camille Laurent Célestin Faust, 1872-1945), “Vie des Elfes”, in [Les Danaïdes] (1903) / [Le mystère du visage] (1906).

– George PEREC (1936-1982), “Mise en évidence expérimentale d’une organisation tomatotopique chez la soprano (Cantatrix sopranica L.)” (1980), “Distribution spatio-temporelle de Coscinoscera Victoria, Coscinoscera Tigrata Carpenteri, Coscinoscera Punctata Barton & Coscinoscera Nigrostriata d’Iputupi” (1980).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “Da: L’astronomia esposta al popolo. Nozioni d’astronomia sideronebulare”, in [Il mare delle blatte e altre storie] (1939) // “Formula della pazienza; Chiasma de la timidezza” (1941) / “La pazienza; la timidezza” (1977), in [Diario perpetuo] (2012) // “Da: La melotecnica esposta al popolo”, “Nuove rivelazioni della psiche umana. L’uomo di Mannheim. (Relazione letta alla Reale Accademia delle Scienze dall’on. Onisammot Iflodnal, azerbeigiano)”, in [La spada] (1942).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “L’epidemia” (1941), in [L’epidemia] (1944/1956).

– Augusto FRASSINETI (1911-1985), “Prime Conclusioni intorno allo studio della Ministerialità”, in [Misteri dei Ministeri] (1952/1974).

– Primo LEVI (1919-1987), “Cladonia rapida” (1964), in [Storie naturali] (1966).

– Leo LIONNI (1910-1999), La botanica parallela (1976).

– Giorgio PRODI (1928-1987), “L’evoluzione degli animali a penna”, in [Il neutrone borghese] (1980).

– Giorgio MANGANELLI (1922-1990), “Discorso sulla difficoltà di comunicare coi morti”, in [Agli dèi ulteriori] (1989).

– Luigi MALERBA (1927-2008), “Appunti e frammenti per un trattato sugli alberi e sui suoni da essi prodotti”, in [Consigli inutili] (2014).

– Nicolae STEINHARDT (1912-1989), “Cazuri de isterie la sugacii de azi”, in [În genul… tinerilor] (1932).

– Romulus DINU (1921-), “Boala de decongelare (Apatia criogenetică)”, in […dintr-o lume congelată şi… false ficţiuni] (1980).

– Mircea BĂDUŢ (1967-), “Exerciţiu de ciclicitate”, in [Ficţiuni secunde] (2016).

Formal sciences:

*: Linguistics

– Lewis CARROLL (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, 1832-1898), The New Method of Evaluation, as Applied to π (1865), The Dynamics of a Parti-cle (1865), in [Notes by an Oxford Chiel] (1874).

– George ORWELL (Eric Arthur Blair, 1903-1950), *“The Principles of Newspeak”, in Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949).

– C. [Charles] F. [Francis] HOCKETT (1916-2000), *“How to Learn Martian” (1955), in [The View from Language: Selected Essays 1948-1974] (1977).

– J. [John] R. [Reginald] R. [Reuel] TOLKIEN (1892-1973), *“Writing and Spelling”, in The Lord of the Rings (1967).

– Willard WALKER (1927-2009), *“The Retention of Folk Linguistic Concepts and the ti’yčir Caste in Contemporary Nacireman Culture” (1970).

– Ursula K. [Kroeber] LE GUIN (1929-2018), ““The Author of the Acacia Seeds” and Other Extracts from the Journal of the Association of Therolinguistics” (1974), in [The Compass Rose] (1982).

– Harry MATHEWS (1930-), *“Remarks of the Scholar Graduate”, in [Country Cooking and Other Stories] (1980).

– Modesto LAFUENTE (1806-1866), “Estadística real”, in [Teatro social del siglo XIX] (1846).

– Lola ROBLES (1963-), *“Sobre el campo semántico de los colores en el idioma aanukien”, *“Sobre la metáfora aanukien y fihdia”, in El informe Monteverde (2005).

– Paul THÉDORE-VIBERT (1851-1918), *“Prononciation antique”, in [Pour lire en automobile] (1901).

– Alfred JARRY (1873-1907), “De la surface de Dieu”, in Gestes et opinions du docteur Faustroll, pataphysicien [1898-1899] (1911).

– Raymond QUENEAU (1903-1976), “Quelques remarques sommaires relatives aux propriétés aérodynamiques de l’addition” (1950) // *“De quelques langages animaux imaginaires et notamment du langage chien dans Sylvie et Bruno” (1971).

– Boris VIAN (1920-1959), “Mémoire concernant le calcul numérique de Dieu par des méthodes simples et fausses” (1977 [1955]).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), *“Qualche discorso sull’L.I.” (1941) / “Volete imparare questo alfabeto?” (1978), in [Diario perpetuo] (2012).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “Dell’impossibilità di costruire la carta dell’imperio 1 a 1”, “The Wom”, “Come falsificare Eraclito”, “Il teorema degli ottocento colori”, in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Ion Luca CARAGIALE (1852-1912), “Statistică” (1893), in [Schiţe uşoare] (1896).

FANTASTIC BESTIARIES since 1900

Fantastic bestiaries are fictions consisting in non-scientific descriptions of imaginary beings (plants, animals, minerals).

– Woody ALLEN (Allan Stewart Königsberg, 1935-), “Fabulous Tales and Mythic Beasts”, in [Without Feathers] (1975).

– J. [Joanne] K. ROWLING (1965-), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2001; as by Newt Scamander).

– John Henry FLEMING, Fearsome Creatures of Florida (2009).

– Ursula K. LE GUIN (1929-2018), “Elementals” (2012).

– Álvaro CUNQUEIRO (1911-1981), [“Novidades do mundo e fauna máxica”], in [Escola de menciñeiros e fábula de varia xente] (1960).

– Wilson BUENO (1949-2010), Jardim zoológico (1999).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986); Margarita GUERRERO, [Manual de zoología fantástica] (1957) / [El libro de los seres imaginarios] (1967/1969).

– Rafael CASTELLANO, “Especies extinguidas: el plumiferus melancolicus” (1965).

– Juan PERUCHO (1920-2003), [Botánica oculta o el falso Paracelso] (1969) // [“Lapidario portátil”], in [Historias secretas de balnearios] (1972) // [Bestiario fantástico] (1977).

– ÁLVARO CUNQUEIRO (1911-1981), “Diccionario manual de bestias marinas” (1972).

– Joan FONTCUBERTA (1955-), “El cocatrix” (1997).

– José Luis SAMPEDRO (1917-2013), “Aviso contra la dañina bestia el Antromóvil donde se revelan sus disfrazadas artes y satánicos fines” (1997).

– Felipe BENÍTEZ REYES (1960-), “El hadillo (1983), “Aldac”, in [Un mundo peligroso] (1994) and [Oficios estelares] (2009).

– Rafael PÉREZ ESTRADA (1934-2000), [Bestiario de Livermoore] (1988).

– Antón CASTRO (Antonio RODRÍGUEZ CASTRO, 1959-), [Bestiario aragonés] (1991).

– Gustavo MARTÍN GARZO (1948-), “El borrador doméstico” (1995).

– Luis MATEO DÍEZ (1942-), “El ladril” (1995).

– Eduardo MENDICUTTI (1948-), “El palabrero” (1995).

– José María MERINO (1941-), “Gamusino doméstico” (1995).

– Soledad PUÉRTOLAS (1947-), “El guerrero amistoso” (1995).

– Raúl GONZÁLVEZ DEL ÁGUILA, [“Bestiario”] (1999).

– Ángel OLGOSO (1961-), “Almanaque de asombros”, in [Granada 2039 y otros relatos] (1999).

– Jesús CALLEJO, [Bestiario mágico] (2001).

– Jordi DOCE (1967-), [Bestiario del nómada] (2001).

– Óscar SIPÁN (1974-), [Leyendario] (2004).

– Juan Jacinto MUÑOZ RENGEL (1974-), “Bestiario secreto en el London Zoo”, in [88 Mill Lane] (2005).

– Francisco FERRER LERÍN (1942-), [Bestiario] (2007).

– Mercè RODOREDA (1908-1983), [“Flors de debò”], in [Viatges i flors] (1980).

– Joan PERUCHO (1920-2003), [Botánica oculta o el fals Paracels] (1980) // [Petit museu de monstres marins] (1981) // [Monstruari fantàstic] (1984).

– Pere CALDERS (1912-1994), “Refinaments d’ultramar”, in [Invasió subtil i altres contes] (1978).

– Alfred JARRY (1873-1907), “Cynégétique de l’omnibus” (1900-1901).

– Jean DESS (HIXE), [“D’une certaine faune”], in [Pour lire en parachute] (1932).

– Henri MICHAUX (1899-1984), [“Notes de zoologie”], in [La Nuit remue] (1935).

– Jean GIONO (1895-1970), “Le grain de tabac” (1956), “L’ours” (1958), “La poufiasse” (1958), “La bestiasse” (1958), in [Ménagerie énigmatique] (1961) // “La cantharide” (1958), “Le verrat-maquereau”, “L’émeraudine”, “The bear», “Le minus”, “L’oiseau-bleu”, in [Animalités] (1965).

– Stefano BENNI (1947-), [Stranalandia] (1984).

– Monica SARSINI (1953-), [Crepacuore] (1985) // [Crepapelle] (1988) // [Crepapancia] (1996).

– Mircea CĂRTĂRESCU (1956-), Enciclopedia zmeilor (2002).

FICTIONAL CRITICISM

ANTHOLOGIES AND CRITICAL EDITIONS OF IMIAGINARY WRITERS

*: alleged translations.

– Norman DOUGLAS (1868-1952), Some Limericks (1929).

– Vladimir NABOKOV (1899-1977), Pale Fire (1962).

– Woody ALLEN (Allan Stewart Königsberg, 1935-), *“The Scrolls” (1974), “The Irish Genius”, in [Without Feathers] (1975).

– David LANGFORD (1953-), An Account of a Meeting with Denizens from Another World, 1871 by William Robert Loosley (1979).

– Benjamin ROSENBAUM (1969-), *“The Book of Jashar” (2003), in [The Ant King and other stories] (2008).

– Charles YU (1976-), *“The Book of Categories” (2011).

– Aristidis G. ROMANOS (1937-), *Tlön: Journey to a Utopian Civilisation (2015).

– Luís Filipe SILVA (1970-) et alii., Os Anos de Ouro da Pulp Fiction Portuguesa (2011).

– Adolfo de CASTRO (1823-1898), El Buscapié de Cervantes (1844).

– Joaquín BARTRINA (1850-1880), “Una poesía española inédita del siglo XV publicada ahora por primera vez por don N. A. A.”, in [Obras en prosa y verso] (1881).

– Rafael Rafael Zamora y Pérez de Urría, marqués de VALERO DE URRÍA (1861-1908), [Crímenes literarios](1906).

– Pedro Erasmo CALLORDA (1879-1949), El testamento de don Quijote (1918).

– Enrique DÍEZ CANEDO (1879-1944), Alfonso REYES (1889-1959), “Góngora y El Greco” (1921).

– SALARRUÉ (Salvador Salazar Arrué, 1899-1975), *[O’Yarkandal] (1929).

– Max AUB (1903-1972), Jusep Torres Campalans (1958) // Antología traducida (1972).

– Juan José DOMENCHINA (1898-1945), *El diván de Abz-ul-Agrib (1945).

– Rafael SOLANA (1915-1992), *“Sansón y Dalila”, in [El oficleido y otros cuentos] (1960) / El novísmo Algazife o Libro de las Postrimerías (1980).

– Rafael PÉREZ ESTRADA (1934-2000), Revelaciones de la Madre Margarita Amable del Divino Niño del Sí (1970).

– Carlos RIPOLL, “Juan Pérez” por Benjamín Castillo (1970).

– Pedro GÓMEZ VALDERRAMA (1923-1992), “Los papeles de la academia utópica” (1972), in [La procesión de los ardientes] (1973) // “Documentos del padre Alameda”, in [Las alas de los muertos] (1992).

– Rafael LLOPIS (1933-), *“Invocación de una entidad de la noche a su reflejo luminoso” (1974) / El Novísmo Algazife o Libro de las Postrimerías (1980).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), *“El informe de Brodie”, in [El informe de Brodie] (1970) // *“La secta de los Treinta”, *“Undr”, in [El libro de arena] (1975).

– Emilio SERRA (1953-1989), *“Extractos, documentación y fuentes relativos al culto de Yidhra y su relación con el ciclo mítico de Mlandoth” (1979).

– Daína CHAVIANO (1957-), *“El papiro de Ptah”, in [Amoroso planeta] (1983).

– José JIMÉNEZ LOZANO (1930-2020), *[Parábolas y circunloquios de Rabí Isaac Ben Yehuda (1325-1402)] (1985).

– José FERRATER MORA (1912-1991), “Reivindicación de Babel” (1991).

– Federico GARCÍA LORCA (1898-1936), Antología modelna, precedida de los poemas de Isidro Capdepón Fernández (1995).

– Felipe BENÍTEZ REYES (1960-), Vidas improbables (1995/2009).

– Gloria MÉNDEZ (1969-), *[El informe Kristeva] (1997).

– Daniel PÉREZ, “Donde se cuenta la verdadera historia que pasó Sancho al ir a buscar a la señora Dulcinea, y de otros sucesos tan ridículos como verdaderos” (2005).

– Javier FERNÁNDEZ (1971-), “Hacia una traducción de Gigamesh de Patrick Hannahan”, in [La grieta] (2007).

– Voz Vértebra: Antología de poesía futura (2017).

– Xuan BELLO (1965-), Pantasmes, mundos, laberintos (1996).

– Roberto GONZÁLEZ-QUEVEDO (1953-), *[Hestoria de la l.literatura primera en Pesicia] (2014).

– Alfred MOQUIN-TANDON (1804-1866), Carya Magalonensis (1836).

– Pompeu GENER (1848-1920), *“Una teogonia índia” (1901) / *“Antic poem del Indostan (Una teogonia vishnuita)”, in [Pensant, sentint i rient] (1911).

– Manuel de PEDROLO (1918-1990), *[Múltiples notícies de l’Edèn] (1985).

– Vicenç PAGÈS JORDÀ (1963-), *“Puella gerundensis”, “La remullada: rondalla apócrifa”, in [El poeta i altres contes] (2005).

– Charles NODIER (1780-1844), *Smarra ou les démons de la nuit (1821).

– Prosper MERIMEE (1803-1870), *La Guzla ou choix de poésies illyriques recueillies dans la Dalmatie, la Bosnie, la Croatie et l’Herzégowine (1827).

– Charles-Augustin SAINTE-BEUVE (1804-1869), Vie, poésies et pensées de Joseph Delorme (1829).

– Alphonse RABBE (1784-1829), *“Le centaure”, in [Album d’un pessimiste] (1835).

– Théodore Hersart de LA VILLEMARQUÉE (1815-1895), *Le Barzaz Breiz, chants populaires de la Bretagne (1839-1845-1867).

– Gabriel VICAIRE (1848-1900); Henri BEAUCLAIR (1860-1919), Les Déliquescences, poèmes décadents d’Adoré Floupette, avec sa vie par Marius Tapora (1885).

– Paul BORY (1837-19?), *Mémoires d’un Romain (1890).

– Anatole FRANCE (François Anatole Thibault, 1844-1924), *“Sainte Euphrosine”, (1891), in [L’étui de nacre] (1892/1922).

– Nicolas NOTOVITCH (1858-?), *La Vie inconnue de Jésus-Christ (1894).

– Pierre LOUŸS (1870-1925), *Las Chansons de Bilitis (1895).

– Paul-Jean TOULET (1867-1920), Monsieur du Paur, homme public (1898/1920).

– Hugues REBELL (Georges Grassal de Choffat, 1867-1905), *La saison à Baïa (1900).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), *“Origines du journal: L’Île des Diurnales”, in [Mœurs des Diurnales: Traité de journalisme] (1903; as Loyson-Bridet).

– Gabriel de PIMODAN (1856-1924), *Le roman d’une âme antique (1904).

– Valery LARBAUD (1881-1957), Poèmes par un riche amateur ou Œuvres françaises de M. Barnabooth (1908).

– Jean REDNI, *[Luxures antiques, voluptés tragiques] (1908).

– Gaston PICARD (1892-1965), Les Poèmes idiots, œuvre posthume de Myriam Mester (1911).

– Maurice DEKOBRA (Maurice Ernest Tessier, 1885-1973), Hamydal le philosophe, morceaux choisis du célèbre penseur (1921).

– Philippe SELK (¿1873-1940?), *Un livre d’argile. Le Poème de Šu-nir (1922).

– Pascal PIA (Pierre Durand, 1903-1979), À une courtisane, poème inédit de Charles Baudelaire (1925).

– Léon BOPP (1896-1977), “Danger du Lac (de Lamartine)”, in [Drôle de monde] (1940).

– René DAUMAL (1908-1944), “Quelques poètes français du XXV^e siècle” (1942).

– Yves GANDON (1899-1975), *La Terrasse des désespoirs (1943) // *Le Pavillon des délices regrettées (1947).

– Jean DUTOURD (1920-2011), *“Ludwig Schnorr ou la marche de l’histoire” (1958), in [Les Dupes] (1959).

– Stefan WUL (Pierre Pairault, 1922-2003), * “Droit de réponse” (1974).

– Maurice MOURIER (1936-), Godilande ou Journal d’un mort (1974).

– Jean TARDIEU (1903-1995), Le Professeur Frœppel (1978).

– Claude BONNEFOY (1929-1979), Ronceraille (1978).

– Alain NADAUD (1948-2015), *Archéologie du zéro (1984).

– Pascal QUIGNARD (1948-), *Les Tablettes de buis d’Apronenia Avitia (1984).

– Jean-Benoît PUECH (1947-), L’Apprentissage du roman. Extraits du Journal d’apprentissage de Benjamin Jordane (1993).

– Éric CHEVILLARD (1964-), L’Œuvre posthume de Thomas Pilaster (1999).

– Pierre JOURDE (1955-); Éric NAULLEAU (1961-), Le Jourde et Naulleau: Précis de littérature du XXI^e siècle (2004/2008/2015).

– Pierre SENGES (1968-), *La Réfutation majeure (2004).

– Samir BOUADI; Agathe COLOMBIER-HOCHBERG, 26,5 auteurs qui n’existent pas mais qu’il faut absolument avoir lus (2008).

– Giacomo LEOPARDI (1798-1837), *“Inno a Nettuno” (1817) // Martirio de’ Santi Padri del Monte Sinai e dell’eremo di Raitu composto da Ammonio Monaco, volgarizzamento fatto nel buon secolo della nostra lingua (1826) // *“Cantico del gallo silvestre”, in [Operette morali] (1827) // *“Frammento apocrifo di Stratone di Lampsaco” (1845 [1825]).

– Tommaso GARGALLO (1760-1843), Il paladino d’Ungheria. Novella d’antico codice ora per la prima volta pubblicata (1823).

– Monaldo LEOPARDI (1776-1847), Memoriale di frate Giovanni da Camerino francescano scritto nell’anno 1371(1828/1833).

– Pietro FANFANI (1815-1879), Relazione del viaggio d’Arrigo VII in Italia di Niccolò vescovo di Botrintò, volgarizzata nel secolo XVIV dal notaio ser Bonacosa di ser Bonavita da Pistoia (1847).

– ¿Ignazio PILLITO (1806-1895)?; Pietro MARTINI (1800-1866), Pergamene, codici e fogli cartacei d’Arborea (Cartas de Arborea / Carte d’Arborea) (1863-1865).

– Giuseppe CUGNONI (1824-1908), Vita di Arhot monaco (1884).

– Giuseppe COZZA-LUZZI, Appunti leopardiani (1898).

– Giuseppe MEZZANOTTE (1855-1935), La novella della cesta (1902).

– Augusto FRASSINETI (1911-1985), Misteri dei Ministeri (1952/1974) // “Lo Spirito delle Leggi. Postfazione”, in [Un capitano a riposo] (1963).

– Giacomo BIFFI (1928-), *Il quinto evangelo (1968).

– Brunamaria DAL LAGO (1935-), *Il regno dei Fanes (1989).

– Pietro PIZZARI, *Necronomicon: magia nera in un manoscritto della Biblioteca Vaticana (1993).

– Constandin SION (1795-1862)?, Izvodul spătarului Clănău (Cronica lui Huru) (1856).

– Constantin A. IONESCU-CAION (1880-1918), “Un război al lui Mircea în 1399” (1901).

– Vladimir COLIN (Jean Colin, 1921-1991), *[Legendele Țării lui Vam] (1961).

MOCK BOOK REVIEWS AND SIMILAR DOCUMENTS (including reviews and descriptions of works of art)

– Thomas Babington MACAULAY (1800-1859), “A prophetic account of a grand national epic poem, to be entitled The Wellingtoniad, and to be published A.D. 2824” (1824).

– Aristarchus Newlight (Richard WHATELEY, 1786-1863), Historic Certainties Respecting the Early History of America (1851).

– H. P. LOVECRAFT (1890-1937), “History of the Necronomicon” (1938).

– Woody ALLEN (Allan Stewart Königsberg, 1935-), “The Metterling Lists” (1969), in [Getting Even] (1971).

– Norman SPINRAD (1940-), “Afterword to the Second Edition”, in The Iron Dream (1972).

– Jonathan BAUMBACH (1933-), “Neglected Masterpieces IV”, in [The Return of Service] (1979) // “Neglected Masterpieces III” (1986).

– Samuel R. DELANY (1942-), “Some Informal Remarks toward the Modular Calculus, Part Three, by S. L. Kermit”, in [Tales of Nevèrÿon] (1979).

– Robert M. PRICE (1954-), “A Critical Commentary on the Necronomicon” (1988).

– R. M. BERRY, “Second Story”, “Samuel Beckett’s Middlemarch”, “History”, in [Dictionary of Modern Anguish] (2000).

– Michael CISCO (1970-), “The Thing in the Jar” (2011).

– Cherie PRIEST (1975-), “Addison Howell and the Clockroach” (2011).

– Henrique Maximiano COELHO NETO (1864-1934), “Inauditismo”, in [Lanterna mágica] (1898).

– Melchor FERNÁNDEZ ALMAGRO (1893-1966), “El poeta Capdepón, académico” (1923).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), “El acercamiento a Almotásim”, in [Historia de la eternidad] (1936) / “Pierre Menard, autor del Quijote” (1939), “Examen de la obra de Herbert Quain” (1941), in [El jardín de senderos que se bifurcan] (1941) / “Tres versiones de Judas”, in [Ficciones] (1944/1956).

– AZORÍN (José Martínez Ruiz, 1873-1967), “Un librito de versos”, “Estudios históricos”, in [Cavilar y contar] (1942).

– Juan BENET (1927-1993), “Un prólogo a la Historia de la Orden de Caballeros de Don Juan Tenorio” (1959).

– Juan José ARREOLA (1918-2001), “El himen en México”, in [Palindroma] (1971).

– Jaime ROSAL DEL CASTILLO (1945-), “Acerca del verdadero Necronomicón” (1974).

– Juan-Jacobo BAJARLÍA (1914-2005), “El Al-Azif o Necronomicón” (1975-1978).

– José María MONTELLS (1949-), “Sobre el papiro Neferkeré” (1976).

– Emiliano GONZÁLEZ (1955-), “Los cuatro libros de Garret Mackintosh”, in [Los sueños de la bella durmiente] (1978).

– José FERRER-BERMEJO (1956-), “Breve reseña del Kriskongismo”, in [El increíble hombre inapetente y otros relatos] (1982).

– Luis GOYTISOLO (1935-), “Joyce al fin superado” (1984), in [Investigaciones y conjeturas de Claudio Mendoza] (1985).

– Darío VIDAL, “Los papeles dispersos del rabí Samuel Santángel de Alcañiz”, in [Siete ensayos aragoneses y un apócrifo] (1986).

– Óscar de LA BORBOLLA (1949-), “El manual de torturadores”, “La mejor novela de este tiempo”, “La pena de muerte”, “Primera reseña de este libro”, in [Ucronías] (1989).

– Mario LEVRERO (1940-2004), “Giambattista Grozzo, autor de “Pierre Menard, autor del Quijote”” (1993).

– Eugenio F. GRANELL (1912-2001), “Nota bibliográfica”, in [El aire franco] (2000).

– Eduardo BERTI (1964-), “Una novela premonitoria”, in [La vida imposible] (2002).

– Alberto LÓPEZ AROCA (1976-), [“Mitología creativa”], in [Los espectros conjurados] (2004).

– David ARIAS (1965-), “Necrológica”, in [Horrores cotidianos] (2007).

– Javier FERNÁNDEZ (1971-), “Hacia una traducción de Gigamesh de Patrick Hannahan”, in [La grieta] (2007).

– Jorge CARRIÓN (1976-), ““Nuestro dolor. Algunas reflexiones sobre Los muertos”, por Martha H. de Soto”, ““Los muertos o la narrativa postraumática”, por Jordi Batlló y Javier Pérez”, in Los muertos (2010).

– Pablo MARTÍN SÁNCHEZ (1977-), “Verbigracia”, “Poesía métrica”, in [Fricciones] (2011).

– Enrique GALLUD JARDIEL (1958-), [Historia estúpida de la literatura] (2014).

– Vicente Luis MORA (1970-), “El Quijote de Cervantes como plagio de Si una noche de invierno un viajero, de Italo Calvino” (2016).

– M. Servet (A) Raves, “El descobriment de Madrid, pel doctor Schulze-Pfalz” (1904).

– Joan PERUCHO (1920-2003), “Notícia de Madama Edwarda i de un desconegut escriptor”, “Don Faustino de la Peña i el seu enigmàtic Tratado de carnes”, “El diari de guerra de Xaconín”, “Un cavaller erudit”, “Velles cròniques d’Espanya” (H.), “Els erudits del meravellós”, “Notícia del doctor Thebussem”, in [Aparicions i fantasmes] (1968) // [Històries apòcrifes] (1974) // “El pareraire”, “El Canut o la futurologia en vers” (H.), in [Monstruari fantàstic] (1976)

– Pep ALBANELL (1945-), “El gran lament”, in [L’impacable naufragi de la pols] (1987).

– Joaquim CARBÓ (1932-), “El realisme critic premiat” (1986), “Un llibre de guerra singular” (1986), “El rei Jaume I en calent” (1986), “Campi qui pugui” (1987), in [L’Ofèlia i jo] (2004).

– Pep ALBANELL (1945-), “El gran lament”, in [L’impacable naufragi de la pols] (1987).

– Màrius SERRA (1963-), Amnèsia (1987) (H.).

– Vicenç PAGÈS JORDÀ (1963-), “Cabal/5”, “Emportar-se/10”, in [Cercles d’infinites combinacions] (2003).

– Jordi MASÓ RAHOLA (1967-), “El gnom de Bristol”, in [Polpa] (2016).

– Joan-Claudi FORÊT (1950-), “Logica sens pena”, “Deliri d’interpretacion”, in [Libre dels grands nombres o falses e us de fals] (1998).

– Pierre MILLE (1864-1941), “Poèmes modernes” (1887).

– René ÉTIEMBLE (1909-2002), “Un homme à tuer: Jorge Luis Borges, cosmopolite” (1952).

– Raymond QUENEAU (1903-1976), “De quelques langages animaux imaginaires et notamment du langage chien dans Sylvie et Bruno” (1971)

– Didier ANZIEU (1923-1999), “La sémantique du texte”, in [Contes à rebours] (1975/1987/1995).

– Jean-Benoît PUECH (1947-), [La Bibliothèque d’un amateur] (1979).

– Antoine BELLO (1970-), “L’année Zu”, in [Les Funambules] (1996).

– Sylvain JOUTY (1949-), “Notes sur le travail d’Eddy Mörcher”, in [Queen Kong] (2001).

– Stéphane JAGDANSKI (1963-), “יהוה, dit “Dieu””, in [Jouissance du temps] (2005).

– Samir BOUADI; Agathe COLOMBIER-HOCHBERG, [26,5 auteurs qui n’existent pas mais qu’il faut absolument avoir lus] (2008).

– Bernard QUIRINY (1978-), “Quelques écrivains, tous morts”, in [Contes cannibales] (2008).

– Yann DALL’AGLIO, [Vies, sentences et doctrines des sages imaginaires] (2014).

– Clémentine MELOIS (1980-), [Cent titres] (2014).

– Emilio CECCHI (1884-1966), “Una comuniccazione accademica” (1919), in [Pesci rossi] (1920).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “SPQR”, in [Racconti impossibili] (1966).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “My exagmination round his factification for incamination to reduplication with ridecolation of a portrait of the artist as Manzoni” (1962), “Tre recensioni anomale” (1967-1971), in [Diario minimo] (1963/1975) // “Dell’esternazione”, “Tre civette sul Comò”, “Lineamenti di critica quantistica”, “Il pensiero di Brachamutanda”, in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Virginia DE BOSIS VACCA (1898-1988), [Recensioni artificiali] (2001).

– Paolo ALBANI (1946-), [Il sosia laterale e altre recensioni] (2003).

– HOMO SCRIBENS, [Enciclopedia degli scrittori inesistenti] (2009/2012).

– Luca GIORGI (1960-), [Il libro dei libri] (2011).

– Ovid S. CROHMĂLNICEANU (Moise Cohn, 1921-2000), “Recenzie stiinţifică”, in [Istorii insolite] (1980).

PLOT SUMMARIES OF UNWRITTEN WORKS

Only summaries written as such, not summaries of accidentally lost or unwritten books (e.g. due to the writer’s decease).

Only texts in romance languages.

– Teófilo BRAGA (1843-1924), “Epopéia da Lusónia”, in Viriato (1904).

– Juan VALERA (1824-1905), “Los cordobeses en Creta” (1897).

– Pretextato TRASTIENDA (Francisco ANTICH E IZAGUIRRE, 1872-1930), Novedad, 100 o 200 argumentos para cuentos (tal como los tienen los autores en cartera) (1904).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), “El acercamiento a Almotásim”, in [Historia de la eternidad] (1936) / [El jardín de senderos que se bifurcan] (1941) / “Tema del traidor y del héroe” (1944), in [Ficciones] (1944/1956).

– Ricardo GULLÓN (1908-1991), “Un drama inédito de Unamuno” (1961).

– Jaime ROSAL [DEL CASTILLO] (1945-), “Acerca del verdadero Necronomicón” (1974).

– Luis GOYTISOLO (1935-), “Joyce al fin superado” (1984), in [Investigaciones y conjeturas de Claudio Mendoza] (1985).

– Fernando ARRABAL (1932-), “La travesía de Arrabal” (1988).

– Enrique GALLUD JARDIEL (1958-), “El comité de Kafka”, [“La antiliteratura”], in [Historia estúpida de la literatura] (2014).

– Ramon REVENTÓS (1882-1923), “Argument d’una història llarga” (1916), in [Proses] (1953).

– Valentí CASTANYS (1898-1965), “Dos mil anys després”, in [Barcelona-Hollywood (radio-cinema-sonor)] (1935).

– Francesc TRABAL (1899-1957), [Tres arguments] (1938).

– Joaquim CARBÓ (1932), “El realisme critic premiat” (1986), “Un llibre de guerra singular” (1986), “El rei Jaume I en calent” (1986), “Campi qui pugui” (1987), in [L’Ofèlia i jo] (2004).

– Jules CLARETIE (1840-1913), “Le Napoléon jaune” (1900).

– Jacques RIGAUT (1898-1929), “Un brillant sujet” (1922).

– Jean-Benoît PUECH (1947-), [La Bibliothèque d’un amateur] (1979).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “La Chartreuse de Parme (critique imaginaire)”, “La Bataille de l’eau de Lourdes”, in [La Rose réaliste] (1985).

– Sarane ALEXANDRIAN (1927-2009), [Soixante sujets de romans au goût du jour et de la nuit] (2000).

– Theo CANDINAS (1929-), «Gion Barlac ei el claus», in [Historias da Gion Barlac] (1975).

– Luigi CAPUANA (1839-1915), «Un melodramma inedito», in [Fumando] (1889) / [Le appassionate] (1893).

– Giovanni PAPINI (1881-1956), “Un film originale”, in [Le pazzie del poeta] (1950) // “Il poema dell’uomo (di Walt Whitman)”, “La gioventù di Don Chisciotte (di Miguel de Cervantes)”, “Il Primo e l’Ultimo (di Unamuno)”, “Il ritorno (di Franz Kafka)”, “La conversione del papa (di Roberto Browning)”, “Il paradiso ritrovato (di William Blake)”, in [Il libro nero] (1951).

– Felix ADERCA (Zelicu Froim Aderca, 1891-1962), “Pastorală”, in [Aventurile D-lui Ionel Lăcustă-Termidor] (1932).

– Mircea Horia SIMIONESCU (1928-2011), “ANTONIO GOVERNALY: Noocracia”, in Bibliografia generală (1971).

– Mircea OPRIŢĂ (1943-), “Meteoritul tungus” (2005), in [Sindromul Quijote şi alte ficţiuni rebele] (2014).

FICTIONAL LISTS

Bibliographies, book catalogs, audiovisual and musical programmes, and imaginary indexes

Only texts published as literary texts in collections of fictions and/or literary journals.

– R. LONSDALE, Catalogue of the Extensive Library of Doctor Rainbeau (1862).

– Francis Peloubet FARQUHAR (1887-1974), A Catalogue of Rare Books and Manuscripts (1946).

– J. [James] G. [Graham] BALLARD (1930-2009), “The Index” (1977), in [War Fever] (1990) and [The Complete Short Stories] (2001) // “A Guide to Virtual Death” (1992), in [The Complete Short Stories] (2001).

– Rosendo PONS, “Del año 3000” (1901).

– José Alberto GONZÁLBEZ, “Cierta guía de conciertos de la orquesta filarmónica de Plutón” (1980).

– Renier CHALON (1802-1889), Catalogue d’une très riche mais peu nombreuse collection de livres provenant de la bibliothèque de feu M. le Comte J.N.A. de Fortsas (1840).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), “Les cent bons livres du journaliste”, in [Mœurs des Diurnales: Traité de journalisme] (1903; as Loyson-Bridet).

BIBLICAL MODERN APOCRHYPHA

Texts which mimic ancient rethoric.

*: purely literary.

– Joseph SMITH (1805-1844), The Book of Mormon (1830).

– The Lost Chapter of the Acts of the Apostles (1871).

– William Dennes MAHAN (1824-1906), A Correct Transcript of Pilate’s Court (1879) / The Archaeological Writings of the Sanhedrin and Talmuds of the Jews, Taken from the Ancient Parchments and Scrolls at Constantinople and the Vatican at Rome, Being the Record Made by the Enemies of Jesus of Nazareth in His Day (1884).

– John Ballou NEWBROUGH (1828-1891), Oahspe (1882/1891).

– Gideon Jasper Richard OUSELEY (1834-1906), The Gospel of the Holy Twelve (1898-1901).

– Levi H. DOWLING (1844-1911), The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ (1908).

– Letter of Jesus Christ (1917).

– Epistle of Kallikrates (1928)

– William Percival CROZIER (1879-1944), *Letters of Pontius Pilate (1928).

– Catherine VAN DYKE, “Letters from Pontius Pilate’s Wife” (1929).

– Edmond Bordeaux SZEKELY (1905-1979), The Gospel of Peace of Jesus Christ by the Disciple John (1937) / The Essene Gospel of John (1956).

– Woody ALLEN (Allan Stewart Königsberg, 1935-), “The Scrolls” (1974), in [Without Feathers] (1975).

– Benjamin ROSENBAUM (1969-), *“The Book of Jashar” (2003), in [The Ant King and other stories] (2008) // *“Tractate Metim 28A” (2015).

– Jeffrey ARCHER (1940-); Francis J. MOLONEY, The Gospel According to Judas (2007).

– Joaquim Maria MACHADO DE ASSIS (1839-1908), *“Na Arca: Três capítulos inéditos do Gênesis” (1878), in [Papéis Avulsos] (1882).

– Henrique Maximiano COELHO NETO (1864-1934), “Judas”, in [Lanterna mágica] (1898).

– ANDRENIO (Eduardo GÓMEZ DE BAQUERO, 1866-1929), *“El Evangelio del Fariseo” (1911), in [Escenas de la vida moderna] (1913).

– Edmundo GONZÁLEZ BLANCO (1877-1938), “Jesús de Nazareth”, in [Jesús de Nazareth] (1915) / [Cuentos fantásticos] (1920).

– Clemente PALMA (1872-1946), *“Diatriba” (1927) / *“Elogio y diatriba” (1938).

– Tomás BORRÁS (1891-1976), *“La escisión”, in [Azul contra gris] (1948).

– Rafael SOLANA (1915-1992), *“Sansón y Dalila”, in [El oficleido y otros cuentos] (1960).

– J. [Juan] J. [José] BENÍTEZ (1946-), El testamento de San Juan (1988).

– Jaume RODRI (1940-), Evangeli de Jesús (1973).

– Manuel de PEDROLO (1918-1990), *“Fragment de la Crònica d’Irad”, *“Llibre de Naama”, *“Dels fets de l’Eva i l’Adam”, *“La presència del Serpent”, *“La Creació, segons el text de Babilònia del segle XI a. C.”, in [Múltiples notícies de l’Edèn] (1985).

– George SAND (Aurore Dupin, 1804-1876), *“Le Poème de Myrza” (1835).

– Nicolas NOTOVITCH (1858-?), La Vie inconnue de Jésus-Christ (1894).

– Renée VIVIEN (Pauline Mary Tarn, 1877-1909), *“La genèse profane”, in [Brumes de fjords] (1902).

– Han RYNER (Jacques Élie Henri Ambroise Ner, 1861-1938), Le Cinquième Évangile (1910).

– George Armand MASSON (1892-1977), *“Vanité des vanités”, *“L’Évangile selon Sainte Orberose”, in [L’Art d’accommoder les classiques] (1924).

– François CAVANNA (1923-2014), Les Aventures de Dieu (1971) – Les Aventures du petit Jésus, in [Les Écritures] (1982).

– Michel POTAY (1929-), L’Évangile donné à Arès (1974) – Le Livre (1977) / La Révélation d’Arès (1984).

– Frère BERNARD-MARIE, Le Cinquième Évangile d’après les agrapha et quelques mystiques (1997).

– Giacomo BIFFI (1928-), Il quinto evangelo (1968).

FICTIONAL BUSINESS DOCUMENTS

Prospectuses, business reports, commercial documents (including invoices)

*: narratives (company histories and narrative reports)

º: descriptions by third parties.

– James THOMSON (1834-1882), *“The Story of a Famous Old Jewish Firm” (1865), in [Satires and Profanities] (1884).

– John DAVIDSON (1857-1909), “The World’s Pleasance Company, Limited”, in “The Salvation of Nature”, in [The Great Man; and a Practical Novelist] (1891) / [The Pilgrimage of Strongsoul and Other Stories] (1896).

– Max APPLE (1941-), “An Offering”, in [Free Agents] (1984).

– John Thomas SLADEK (1937-2002), *Wholly Smokes (2003).

– Henrique Maximiano COELHO NETO (1864-1934), “Nova companhia”, in [Lanterna mágica] (1898).

– Antonio FLORES (1818-1865), º“El Gran Hotel de la Unidad Transatlántica”, in [Mañana, o la chispa eléctrica en 1899], third volume of [Ayer, hoy y mañana, o la fe, el vapor y la electricidad] (1863).

– Francisco AYALA (1906-2009), º“Ciencia e industria”, in [El jardín de las delicias] (1971).

– David ROAS (1965-), “Mecánica y psicoanálisis (un futuro cercano)”, in [Horrores cotidianos] (2007).

– Ramon PÉREZ-PUJOL (1916-1984), º“El sistema Togosoku”, in [Històries de ciencia-emoció] (1973).

– Émile SOUVESTRE (1806-1854), “Télégraphes trans-aériens”, in Le Monde tel qu’il sera (1846).

– Auguste de VILLIERS DE L’ISLE-ADAM (1838-1889), º“L’agence du Chandelier d’or” (1884), in [L’Amour suprême] (1886).

– George AURIOL (Jean-Georges Huyot, 1863-1938), º“Manufacture de sonnets” (1889).

– Tristan BERNARD (1866-1947), “Société anonyme de brigandage et de cambriolage dans les villas” (1899), in [Sous toutes réserves] (1911).

– Alfred JARRY (1873-1907), º“La Société protectrice des enfants martyrs” (1901).

– Jacques RIGAUT (1898-1929), “Agence Générale du Suicide”, in [Agence Générale du Suicide] (1959).

– Theo CANDINAS (1929-), º“Descripziun d’in stabiliment”, ein [Entagls] (1974).

– Ursicin G. [Gion] G. [Gieli] DERUNGS (1935-), *“La radunonza generala”, in [Il cavalut verd ed auter] (1988).

– Alexandru MACEDONSKI (1854-1920), *“Oceania-Pacific-Dreadnought” (1913).

FICTIONAL ADVERTISEMENT

Heterotopian fictional advertisement: Javier Fernández’s “La Isla^TM” and the literary genre of the fictional advert

Fictions for advertising purposes have existed for a long time. Inversely, there is a textual form that uses advertising for literary purposes: fictional advertising texts. Among them, there are advertisements of imaginary institutions and goods written, for instance, by Coelho Neto, Rigaut and Arreola, as well as “La Isla^TM”, a part of the cyberpunk work entitled Absolute Zero (2005), by Javier Fernandez. This mock tourist brochure reveals through fiction the (anti-)utopian dimension of the kind of advertising that sells heterotopian spaces. This text stands out due to its consistency and autonomy, and generates a complete fictional world through the signs and the discourse of advertising, thus illustrating the semiotic exchange between advertisement and literary fiction.

Fictional business documents are excluded.

– R. M. BERRY, “(paid advertisement)”, in [Dictionary of Modern Anguish] (2000).

– Mark A. RAINER, “Pages I Have Dog-Eared in the Fall 2037 Hammacher Schlemmer Glaven Catalog”, in [Pirate Therapy and Other Cures] (2012).

– Steven MILLHAUSER (1943-), “Arcadia” (2013), in [Voices in the Night] (2015).

– Modesto LAFUENTE (1806-1866), “Máquina para afeitar”, in “Un rapa-barbas de nueva invención”, in [Teatro social del siglo XIX] (1846).

– Antonio FLORES (1818-1865), “El que da lo que tiene a más no está obligado, o cómo por el hilo del pregón se sacará el ovillo de la cosa pregonada”, in [Mañana, o la chispa eléctrica en 1899], in [Ayer, hoy y mañana, o la fe, el vapor y la electricidad] (1863).

– Rafael Rafael Zamora y Pérez de Urría, marqués de VALERO DE URRÍA (1861-1908), “The Universal, Mechanic, Literary, Poetical and Prosaic Company Limited” (1892) / “Máquina cerebral”, in [Crímenes literarios] (1906).

– Silverio LANZA (Juan Bautista AMORÓS, 1856-1912), “¡No más anhidros!”, in [Cuentos escogidos] (1908).

– Juan José ARREOLA (1918-2001), “Baby H.P.”, “Anuncio”, in [Confabulario] (1952).

– José FERRER-BERMEJO (1956-), “Ponga un ciego en su vida”, in [Incidente en Atocha] (1982).

– Javier FERNÁNDEZ (1971-), “La Isla^TM”, in Cero absoluto (2005).

– Ramon COMAS I MADUELL (1935-1978), “…I la màquina”, in [Rescat d’ambaixadors] (1970).

– Òscar PÀMIES (1961-), “Com resoldre el pitjor problema de les grans conurbacions”, in [Com serà la fi del món: Maneres que tindrà de presentar-se’ns i com preparar-s’hi anímicament] (1996).

– Honoré de BALZAC (1799-1850), “Double Pâte des Sultanes et Eau Carminative de César Birotteau, découverte merveilleuse approuvée par l’Institut de France”, in César Birotteau (1837).

– Ernest JAUBERT (1856-1942), “Un prospectus de l’an 2000” (1890).

FICTIONAL PRESCRIPTIVE TEXTS

Prescriptive discourse, literary fiction and dystopia: Santiago Eximeno’s “La hora de la verdad” (2003) in its genre context

Several recent texts suggest that fiction is a concept which should be distinguished from the narrative. Even prescriptive discourse (rules, instructions, etc.) can be used to create a possible fictional world, without narration or characters. The example of Santiago Eximeno’s zombie fiction “The Moment of Truth” (2003) shows that the introduction of fantastic elements in a normative discourse can contribute to the shaping of a whole fictional universe. This presents dystopian features in the above-mentioned work, as it indicates the repressive mechanisms exercised through the prescriptive power of the State.

Real political and legislative proposals, even if made by individuals not in office, are excluded.

LAWS, REGULATIONS, DIRECTIVES, RECOMMENDATIONS, DIRECTIONS, POLITICAL PROGRAMMES, ETC., PUBLIC OR PRIVATE

(v.): in verse

*: legally binding texts.

– Rudyard KIPLING (1865-1936), “The Law of the Jungle” (v.), in [The Second Jungle Book] (1895).

– Frederick Upham ADAMS (1859-1921), *“Constitution of the United States of America”, in President John Smith (1897).

– Henry O. MORRIS, *“Constitution of the United States”, in Waiting for the Signal (1897).

– Mark TWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens, 1835-1910), “Etiquette for the Afterlife: Advice to Paine” (1912/1995 [1910]).

– Edward Mandell HOUSE (1858-1938), *“The New National Constitution”, “New State Constitutions”, in Philip Dru: Administrator (1912).

– Evelyn WAUGH (1903-1966), *“Order for the Day of the Emperor’s Departure”, in Black Mischief (1932).

– Isaac ASIMOV (1920-1922), Three Laws of Robotic, in “Runaround” (1942), in [I, Robot] (1950).

– Peter PORTER (1927-2010), *“Your Attention Please” (v.) (1962).

– Franz JOSEPH (1914-1994), *“Articles of Federation”, in [Star Trek Star Fleet Technical Manual] (1975).

– David BRIN (1950-), *“National Recovery Act”, in The Postman (1985).

– David GULBRAA, *The Constitution of the Individual’s Republic of Atlantis (2000).

– Max BROOKS (1972-), The Zombie Survival Guide (2003).

– Jamie KILLEN, “So You’ve Chosen to Foster” (2015).

– Terry BRUCE, “Welcome to Oasis” (2015).

– Octávio dos SANTOS (1965-), *“Decreto Lei Nº 54”, in [Visões] (2003).

– Viton ARAÚJO (1982-), 100 coisas para fazer (depois de morrer) (2012).

– Rafael Rafael Zamora y Pérez de Urría, marqués de VALERO DE URRÍA (1861-1908), “Dogmas éticos”, in [Crímenes literarios] (1906).

– José MORENO VILLA (1887-1955), “Órdenes de “El Caballero Azul” en su quinta manifestación vital”, in [“Vidas quebradas”], in [Patrañas] (1921).

– Carlos VILLAMIL CASTILLO, “El mundo de los fantasmas”, in [La venganza de los perros y otros cuentos] (1949).

– Manuel DERQUI (1921-1973), *“Manual para maquinistas marcianos” [1961], in [Todos los cuentos] (2008).

– Sergio RAMÍREZ (1942-), *“Suprema ley por la que se regula el bien general de las personas, se premian sus acciones nobles y se castigan sus malos actos y hábitos, dictada en XIV parágrafos”, in [De tropeles y tropelías] (1972).

– Alberto CAÑAS (1920-2014), “La división del mundo”, in [La exterminación de los pobres y otros pienses] (1974).

– Rafael LLOPIS (1933-), “Falsa proclama” (1974).

– Víctor ALBA (1916-2003), “Programa de la Resistencia Española para la paz”, in 1936-1976. Historia de la Segunda República española (1976).

– Santiago EXIMENO (1973-), *“La hora de la verdad” (2003), in [Bebés jugando con cuchillos] (2008) // “Tu bebé diabólico”, in [Obituario privado] (2010).

– YOSS (José Miguel Sánchez Gómez, 1969-), “Si usted se siente como un dios… (Decálogo de autoayuda para turistas que visitan Shu-Wu-Kun-Lu)” (2008).

– David ACRICH, “De oficio, picador de aire”, in [El reencuentro de Rabí Samuel y otros relatos] (2009).

– Louis GEOFFROY (1803-1858), *“Moniteur universel du 5 août 1871”, in Napoléon et la conquête du Monde. 1812 à 1832. Histoire de la Monarchie universelle (1836).

– Alexandre DUMAS (1802-1870), *“Constitution de la Nation des Mosquitos dans l’Amérique centrale”, in Le Capitaine Pamphile (1839).

– Léon BOPP (1896-1977), “Règlement pour l’humanisation de la guerre (élaboré par M. Kourbar Glutsch)”, in [Drôle de monde] (1940).

– Boris VIAN (1920-1959), *“Paris, le 15 Décembre 1999…” (1958).

– Pierre BOURGEADE (1927-2009), *“Loi relative au remplacement de la femme par les femelles des animaux”, in La fin du monde (1984).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “Come fare l’indiano”, in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Ion Luca CARAGIALE (1852-1912), “‘Românii verzi’” (1901).

– Ov. S. CROHMĂLNICEANU (Moise Cohn, 1921-2000), *Tratatul de la Neuhof, in “Tratatul de la Neuhof”, in [Istorii insolite] (1980).

– Dănuţ UNGUREANU (1958-), “Domus” (1992), in [Basme geoestaţionare] (2008).

– Caius DOBRESCU (1966-), “Recomandări privind buna circulaţie a fluidelor corporale pe insula Aragnon”, in Euromorphotikon (2010).

ADMINISTRATIVE DOCUMENTS (FORMS, CONTRACTS, BILLS, PHARMACEUTICAL LEAFLETS, ETC.)

– John SLADEK (1937-2000), “Anxietal Register B” (1969), in [Alien Accounts](1982).

– Tara CAMPBELL, “Nickerson Interstellar Student Exchange Behavioral Contract” (2015).

– Pablo MARTÍN SÁNCHEZ (1977-), “Ósculos ® (vía oral)”, in [Fricciones] (2011).

COLLECTIONS OF SPECULATIVE FICTIONAL LETTERS

(v.): en verso.

*: just one letter.

– David STIRRAT, A Treatise on Political Economy: or the true principles of political economy in the form of a romaunt, for the more pleasing accommodation of readers; Explained in a series of letters to Aristippus, from Aristander, perceived in a deep vision (1824).

– Baron Joseph CORVAJA (1785-1860), Perpetual Peace to the Machine by the Universal Millennium, or The Sovereign Bankocracy, and the Grand Social Ledger of Mankind (1855).

– Old Peter Piper, “Peter Pipers Letters. Peter’s Vision” (1869).

– Anna DODD (1858-1929), The Republic of the Future; or, Socialism A Reality (1887).

– Wladjslaw Somerville LACH-SZYRMA (1841-1915), [Letters from the Planets] (1887-1893).

– Alice B. STOCKHAM (1833-1912); Lida Hood TALBOT, Koradine (1889).

– William Dean HOWELLS (1837-1920), Letters of an Altrurian Traveller (1892-1893).

– Clark Edmund PERSINGER (1873-?), Letters from New America; or an Attempt at Practical Socialism (1900).

– William Thomas STEAD (1849-1912), In Our Midst. The Letters of Callicrates to Dione, Queen of the Xanthians, concerning England and the English, Anno Domini 1902 (1903).

– Mary CARBERY (1867-1949), “If the Germans Came” (1916) // The Germans in Cork: Being the Letters of His Excellency the Baron von Kartoffel (Military Governor of Cork in the Year 1918), and Others (1917).

– Herbert Millingchamp VAUGHAN (1870-1948), Nephelococcygia; Or, Letters from Paradise (1929).

– Upton SINCLAIR (1878-1968), The Way Out: What Lies Ahead for America (1933).

– Geddes MACGREGOR (1909-1998), From a Christian Ghetto: Letters of Ghostly Wit, Written A.D. 2453 (1954).

– The John Franklin Letters (1959).

– Arthur WASKOW (1933-), “Notes from 1999” (1973).

– Alasdair GRAY (1934-), Five Letters from an Eastern Empire giving Information upon Architecture, Etiquette, Irrigation, Ventriloquism, Justice, Sex and Poems in an Obsolete Country (1979).

– Cândido de FIGUEIREDO (1846-1925), Lisboa no Ano Três Mil (1892).

– António de MACEDO (1931-2017), “O limite de Rudzky”, in [O Limite de Rudzky e Outras Histórias] (1992).

– Julián Manuel del PORTILLO (1818-1862), Lima de aquí a cien años (1843-1844).

– Adolfo de CASTRO (1823-1898), Cartas dirigidas desde el otro mundo a D. Bartolo Gallardete (1851).

– Juan BRAVO MURILLO (1803-1873), *La Internacional y las damas españolas (1872).

– Casta ESTEBAN Y NAVARRO (1841-1885), *“Una carta del otro mundo”, in [Mi primer ensayo] (1884).

– Nilo María FABRA (1843-1903), El problema social (1890) // “La locura del anarquismo (Cartas del doctor Occipucio al abogado Verboso)”, in [Cuentos ilustrados] (1895).

– Rafael Rafael Zamora y Pérez de Urría, marqués de VALERO DE URRÍA (1861-1908), “Áureas lavas”, in [Crímenes literarios] (1906).

– Santiago RAMÓN Y CAJAL (1852-1934), *“Carta de una hormiga esclavista”, in [Charlas de café] (1920).

– Juan G. [García] ATIENZA (1930-2011), “Kuklos” (1967) // “El pisito solariego” (1968).

– René AVILÉS FABILA (1940-2016), *“En las cumbres deportivas”, in [La desaparición de Hollywood y otras sugerencias para principiar un libro] (1973) and [Fantasías en carrusel] (1978/1995/2001).

– Pere VERDAGUER (1929-2017), Les lletres de l’oncle Enric i els missatges de l’extraterrestre (1978).

– Carme RIERA (1949-), “Princesa meva, lletra d’Àngel”, in [Contra l’amor en companyia i altres relats] (1991).

– Oriol CANOSA (1975-), L’illa de Paidonèsia (2017).

– Henri de PARVILLE (François Henri Peudefer, 1838-1909), Un habitant de la planète Mars (1865).

– Adrien ROBERT (Adrien Basset, 1822-1869), “La Guerre de 1894”, in [Contes fantasques et fantastiques] (1867).

– Alfred FRANKLIN (1830-1917), Les ruines de Paris en 4875 (1875) / Les ruines de Paris en 4908 (1908).

– Paul ADAM (1862-1920), Lettres de Malaisie (1898).

– Remy de GOURMONT (1858-1915), Lettres d’un satyre (1907-1910/1913).

– Georges DUHAMEL (1884-1966), Lettres d’Auspasie (1922) / Lettres au Patagon (1926).

– Association général des étudiants d’Alger, “Excursions dans l’avenir. En l’an 2030 et en l’an 2130” (1929).

– Paul GABRIEL, Messages martiens (1956).

– Pierre GRIPARI (1925-1990), “Opération pucelle”, in [Diable, Dieu et autres contes de menterie] (1965).

– Jacques STERNBERG (1923-2006), “Bien sincèrement à vous”, in [Futurs sans avenir] (1971).

– Octave MANNONI (1899-1989), Lettres personnelles (1990).

– Ursicin G. [Gion] G. [Gieli] DERUNGS (1935-), “Correspondenza cul purgatieri”, in [Il saltar dils morts] (1982).

+ Augusto FRASSINETI (1911-1985), “Prima lettera” – “Seconda lettera”, in [Misteri dei Ministeri] (1952/1974).

– Umberto ECO (1932-2016), “Stelle e stellette” (1976), in [Il secondo diario minimo] (1992).

– Roberto CASATI (1961-), Achille C. VARZI (1958-), “Di un progetto inutile”, “Missiva sul tempo da Valle Finale”, “L’ultimo caso del Presidente delle Amebe”, “Acido universale”, in [Semplicità insormontabili: 39 storie filosofiche] (2004) // *“La placca del Pioneer” (2015), in [Semplicemente diaboliche: 100 nuove storie filosofiche] (2017).

– Ion GHICA (1816-1897), *“Insula Prosta” (1885-1886), in [Scrisori către Vasile Alecsandri] (1887).

– Ovid S. CROHMĂLNICEANU (Moise Cohn, 1921-2000), “Scrisori din Arcadia”, in [Alte istorii insolite] (1986).

SCHOLARLY AND POLITICAL LECTURES AND SPEECHES

(except fictional historiographical lectures)

– Edward A. [Algernon] BAUGHAN (1865-1938). “Prehistoric Music. A Lecture Delivered by Professor Boremall before the Members of the Society of Antediluvian Art, July, 2897” (1897).

– K. [Kaye] RAYMOND, “The Great Thought” (1937).

– Isaac ASIMOV (1920-1992), “Thiotimoline and the Space Age” (1960), in [Opus 100] (1969).

– Harry MATHEWS (1930-), “Remarks of the Scholar Graduate”, in [Country Cooking and Other Stories] (1980).

– Rafael Rafael Zamora y Pérez de Urría, marqués de VALERO DE URRÍA (1861-1908), “Dogmas éticos”, “Banquete anual”, in [Crímenes literarios] (1906).

– Eduardo MAGGIO, “La nada” (1906).

– Enrique JARDIEL PONCELA (1901-1952), “Teoría del ente infinito considerado como base de utopías trilaterales” (1930).

– Max AUB (1903-1972), “Sesión secreta” (1964), in [Historias de mala muerte] (1965) // “El teatro español sacado a la luz de las tinieblas de nuestro tiempo” (1971).

– Manuel VÁZQUEZ MONTALBÁN (1939-2003), “50 años después de la derrota aliada” (1994).

– Mària Aurèlia CAPMANY (1918-1991), “Leviatan”, in [Com uma mà] (1958) and [Coses i noses] (1980).

– Alfred FRANKLIN (1830-1917), Mœurs et coutumes des Parisiens en 1880. Cours professé au Collège de France pendant le second semestre de l’année 3882 par Alfred Mantien, professeur d’archéologie transcendante (1882).

– A. de NOUVAL, “Une séance à la Société de Philandrologie en 1900”, in [Contes salés] (1884).

– Alfred de SAUVENIÈRE (1844-1912), “En l’an 2885!!!” (1885).

– Auguste de VILLIERS DE L’ISLE-ADAM (1838-1889), “Le banquet des éventualistes” (1887), in [Tribulat Bonhomet] (1887).

– Abbé P. NÉON (Abbé Farion), Sermon pour la fête de la Toussaint en l’an 2000 (1899).

– Jean de BOECK (1863-1913), “Leçon donnée par Mlle Sophie Muller, professeur de psychiatrie à la clinique de Hambourg en l’an 2000” (1890).

– Paul THÉODORE-VIBERT (1851-1918), “À quoi bon?”, in [Pour lire en automobile] (1901).

– Edmond HARAUCOURT (1856-1941), “Le gorilloïde” (1904).

– N. de MONTFERRATO, “En l’an 2745” (1905).

– Louis LOTTIN (1880-1916), “Le trésor des pierres”, in [Lyon en l’an 2000] (1911).

– Vicente HUIDOBRO (1893-1948), Finnis Britannia (1923).

– Léon BOPP (1896-1977), “L’art d’être aimé”, in [Drôle de monde] (1940).

– Pietro GORI (1865-1911), La leggenda del Primo Maggio (1905), in [Cenere e faville] (1911).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “Nuove rivelazioni della psiche umana. L’uomo di Mannheim. (Relazione letta alla Reale Accademia delle Scienze dall’on. Onisammot Iflodnal, azerbeigiano)”, in [La spada] (1942) // “SPQR”, in [Racconti impossibili] (1966).

– Augusto FRASSINETI (1911-1985), “Relazione al Congresso della Sezione Italiana del Congresso Internazionale”, in [Un capitano a riposo] (1963).

– Luce D’ERAMO (1925-2001), “Una proposta risolutiva” (1989).

– Tudor ARGHEZI (Ion N. Theodorescu, 1880-1967), “În preistorie”, in [Tablete din Ţara de Kuty] (1933).

SCIENCE FICTION PHILOSOPHICAL DIALOGUES

(v.): in verse.

*: interview.

– Thomas Henry LISTER (1800-1842), “A Dialogue for the Year 2130, Extracted from the Album of a Modern Sibyl” (1829).

– Edgar Allan POE (1809-1849), “The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion” (1839), in [Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque] (1840).

– Edgar FAWCETT (1847-1904), “In the Year Ten Thousand” (v.), in [Songs of Doubt and Dream] (1890).

– Havelock ELLIS (1859-1939), The Nineteenth Century: A Dialogue in Utopia (1900).

– Mary CHOLMONDELEY (1859-1925), “Votes for Men: A Dialogue” (1909).

– M. [Matthew] P. [Phipps] SHIEL (1865-1947), “How Life Climbs” (1934).

– Paul BEAUJON (Beatrice Lamberton Warde, 1900-1969), Peace under Earth: Dialogues from the Year 1946 (1938).

– Rex WARNER (1905-86), Why Was I Killed?: A Dramatic Dialogue (1943).

– Clifford A. PICKOVER (1957-), The Stars of Heaven (2001).

– Luís Filipe SILVA (1970-), “O Fernando Pessoa electrónico”, in [O Futuro à Janela] (1991).

– Fósforo Cerillos (Sebastián CAMACHO ZULUETA, 1822-1915), “México en el año 1970” (1844).

– AZORÍN (José MARTÍNEZ RUIZ, 1873-1967), “La Prehistoria” (1905) / “Epílogo futurista”, in El político (1919).

– Eduardo BERTRÁN RUBIO (1838-1909), “Un invento despampanante” (1906).

– Enrique GONZÁLEZ FIOL (1879-1947), “El tractor del porvenir, ¡la pulga!”, in [Por qué se puso Eva el clásico pámpano] (1925).

– Antonio MACHADO (1875-1939), “Diálogo entre Juan de Mairena y Jorge Meneses”, in [De un cancionero apócrifo] (1928).

– ANDRENIO (Eduardo GÓMEZ DE BAQUERO, 1866-1929), “La extraña máquina”, in [Guignol] (1929).

– Juan G. [García] ATIENZA (1930-2011), “Enfermo” (1973).

– Ramón J. SENDER (1901-1982), “Aventura del Ángelus I”, in [Las gallinas de Cervantes y otras narraciones parabólicas] (1967) and [Novelas del otro jueves] (1969).

– Jaume PUIGBÒ, “Entrevista amb un extraterrestre” (1982).

– Camille FLAMMARION (1842-1925), “Lumen”, in [Récits de l’infini] (1872) / Lumen (1887).

– Charles SECRETAN (1815-1895), “Gillette ou le problème économique” (1888), in [Mon utopie] (1892).

– Jean RICHEPIN (1849-1926), “Le monstre” (1891), in [Théâtre chimérique] (1896).

– Henri MARET (1837-1917), “Les deux planètes” (1900).

– Iwan GILKIN (1858-1924), “Le restaurant de Moscou (vers 2250)”, in Jonas (1900)

– Paul MAX (1884-1944), “Mars” (1924).

– Sosthène, *“Le Martien interviewé” (1927).

– Maurice RENARD (1875-1939), “Sur la planète Mars” (1939).

– Alfred SAUVY (1898-1990), Utopie iatocratique (1954).

– Amélie NOTHOMB (Fabienne Claire Nothomb, 1966-), Péplum (1996).

– Corrado ALVARO (1895-1956), “L’augurio volante” (1950).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “Il monumento” en [L’epidemia] (1956).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “Quattro chiachiere in famiglia”, “Un concetto astrusso”, in [Racconti impossibili] (1966).

– Ovid S. CROHMĂLNICEANU (Moise Cohn, 1921-2000), *“Interviul”, in [Alte istorii insolite] (1986).

SPECULATIVE CONVERSATION

It is a kind of argumentative fiction consisting in the report by a homodiegetic (first person) narrator of his or dialogue with someone who exposes his or her (farfetched) ideas, thus offering a portrait (ethopeia) of his or her unconventional personality).

* = in verse.

– Edgar Allan POE (1809-1849), “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether” (1845).

– H. G. WELLS (1866-1946), “The Diamond Maker” (1894), “The Triumphs of a Taxidermist” (1894), in [The Stollen Bacillus and Other Incidents](1895).

– Joaquim Maria MACHADO DE ASSIS (1839-1908), “O Espelho”, in [Papéis Avulsos] (1882).

– Mário de SÁ-CARNEIRO (1890-1916), “O Homem dos Sonhos” (1913), in [Céu em Fogo] (1915).

– Fernando PESSOA (1888-1935), “O Banqueiro Anarquista” (1922) // “A Perversão do Longe” [1913] (2012) // “Empresa Fornecedora de Mitos, Lda.” [¿1923?] (2012) // “O Adiador” [¿1925?] (2014).

– José Maria FERREIRA DE CASTRO (1898-1974), “O Senhor dos Navegantes”, in [A Missão] (1954).

– Esteban BORRERO ECHEVERRÍA (Cuba 1849-1906), “Calófilo” (1879).

– Carlos MONSALVE (Argentina, 1859-1940), “De un mundo a otro” (1879), in [Páginas literarias] (1881).

– José FERNÁNDEZ BREMÓN (1839-1910), “Siete historias en una”, in [Cuentos] (1879) // “Un Dios con sombrero de copa” (1879) // “Quintar los muertos” (1879) // “El club de los pacíficos” (1887) // “La mitad de la justicia” (1888) // “El diccionario de los gatos” (1899) // “Certamen de inventores” (1900) // “El gremio de verdugos” (1902).

– Silverio LANZA (Juan Bautista Amorós, 1856-1912), “Lo que se necesita para dar” (1894).

– Miguel de UNAMUNO (1864-1936), “Sueño” (1897), “Una visita al viejo poeta” (1899; El espejo de la muerte, 1913), “El abejorro” (1900), “Don Martín, o de la gloria” (1900), “La locura del doctor Montarco” (1904), “El que se enterró” (1908), “Bonifacio” (El espejo de la muerte, 1913), “Don Catalino, hombre sabio” (1915), “Robledo, el actor” (1920), “El alcalde de Orbajosa (etopeya)” (1921), in [Cuentos] // “El fin de un anarquista” (1995 [1894]).

– Ramón PÉREZ DE AYALA (1880-1962), “La caverna de Platón” (1904) // “El filósofo de las casas de huéspedes”, in Belarmino y Apolonio (1921).

– Enrique LABARTA POSE (1863-1925), “El hombre fúnebre”, in [Cuentos humorísticos] (1905).

– Miguel SAWA (1866-1910), “Historias de locos” (1904) / “Judas”, in [Historias de locos] (1910).

– Leopoldo LUGONES (1874-1938), “La fuerza Omega”, “La metamúsica”, “El Psychon”, “Viola Acherontia”, in [Las fuerzas extrañas] (1906).

– Pompeyo GENER (1848-1920), “El doctor Stumper”, in [Del presente, del pasado y del futuro] (1911).

– Luis LÓPEZ DE MESA (1884-1967), “Apólogo de la Gloria”, in [El libro de los apólogos] (1918).

– José María SALAVERRÍA (1873-1940), “El forjador de fantasmas”, in [Páginas novelescas] (1920) and [El muñeco de trapo] (1928) // “El soñador arruinado” (1922), in [El muñeco de trapo] (1928) // “El fichero supremo” (1926), in [El muñeco de trapo] (1928).

– AZORÍN (José Martínez Ruiz, 1873-1967), “El arte del actor” (1935), in [Cavilar y contar] (1942).

– Tomás BORRÁS (1891-1976), “El millonarísimo”, “—Caballero, ideas a peseta”, in [Casi verdad, casi mentira] (1935) // “La fe del centurión”, in [Cuentos con cielo] (1943) // “Tan contento de ser un cero”, in [La cajita de asombros] (1946).

– Antonio CASTRO LEAL (1896-1981), “El cazador del ritmo universal” (1940), “El espía del alma” (1955), “El coleccionista de almas”, in [El laurel de San Lorenzo] (1959).

– Jorge Luis BORGES (1899-1986), “Funes el memorioso” (1942), in [Ficciones] (1944/1956).

– Bernardo ORTIZ DE MONTELLANO (1899-1949), “El caso de mi amigo Alfazeta”, in [El caso de mi amigo Alfazeta] (1946).

– Samuel ROS (1904-1945), “Batllés Hermanos, S. L.” (1948), in [Con el alma aparte] (2002).

– Alfonso REYES (1889-1959), “El vendedor de felicidad” (1948).

– Carlos VILLAMIL CASTILLO, “El descubridor de la zopilotina”, in [La venganza de los perros y otros cuentos] (1949).

– Eduardo SOLERIESTRUCH (1912-1999), “Sinfonía en azul”, in [Doce cuentos] (1952).

– Álvaro FERNÁNDEZ SUÁREZ (1906-1988), “El asesino en el parque”, in [La ciénaga inútil] (1968).

– César VALLEJO (Perú, 1892-1938), “Teoría de la reputación”, in [Contra el secreto profesional] (1973).

– José María MERINO (1941-), “Del Libro de Naufragios”, in [El viajero perdido] (1990) // “Los libros vacíos”, in [Cuentos del barrio del Refugio] (1994).

– Diego RUIZ (1881-1959), “72, carrer d’Entenza”, “Una resurrecció a París”, in [Contes d’un filòsof] (1908) // “La vaga de l’àngel”, in [Contes de glòria i d’infern] (1911).

– Ramon VINYES (1882-1952), “He retrobat al perruquer Oswald”, in [L’ardenta cavalcada] (1909).

– Alfons MASERAS (1884-1939), “La finestra mágica”, in [Setze contes] (1922).

– Ernest MARTÍNEZ FERRANDO (1891-1965), “Un clown en el camí”, in [Tres històries cruels] (1930).

– Ramon COMAS I MADUELL (1935-1978), “El lector coŀlaborador”, in [Rescat d’ambaixadors] (1970).

– Joan-Claudi FORÊT (1950-), “De pels e d’òmes”, in [Libre dels grands nombres o falses e us de fals] (1998).

– Éphraïm MIKHAËL (Éphraïm-Georges Michel, 1866-1890), “Le magasin de jouets” (1885).

– Édouard DUJARDIN (1861-1949), “Un testament”, “L’enfer”, in [Les Hantises] (1886).

– Henri LAVEDAN (1859-1940), “Un homme peureux” (1888).

– Bernard LAZARE (1865-1903), “Les incarnations” (1891), in [Le Miroir des légendes] (1892).

– Marcel SCHWOB (1867-1905), “La machine à parler” (1891), in [Le Roi au masque d’or] (1892).

– Alphonse ALLAIS (1854-1905), “Une idée lumineuse”, in [Pas de bile!] (1893) // “Un projet de loi”, in [Rose et vert-pomme] (1894).

– Remy de GOURMONT (1858-1915), “Sur le seuil”, in [Histoires magiques] (1894).

– Jean LORRAIN (Paul Alexandre Martin Duval, 1855-1906), “Le possédé”, in [Sensations et souvenirs] (1895).

– Octave MIRBEAU (1848-1917), “Scrupules” (1896).

– Jean RICHEPIN (1849-1926), “La cité des gemmes” (1896), “Le nouvel explosif” (1900), in [Le Coin des fous] (1921) // “La Bibliothèque” (1898).

– Paul VALÉRY (1871-1945), “La Soirée avec Monsieur Teste” (1896) en [Monsieur Teste] (1919).

– Georges RODENBACH, (1855-1898), “Le chasseur des villes” (1899), “L’ami des miroirs” (1899), in [Le Rouet des brumes] (1901/1914).

– Édouard DUCOTÉ (1870-1929), “Une interview” (1900), in [En ce monde ou dans l’autre] (1903).

– SAINT-POL-ROUX (Pierre-Paul Roux, 1861-1940), “Le panier de fruits”, “Le mendiant philosophe”, in [La Rose et les épines du chemin] (1901).

– Paul THÉODORE-VIBERT (1851-1918), “Mammonth et Béhémoth”, “L’homme-microbe”, “La prescience divine”, “Pourquoi je n’aime pas voyager”, “La vie chimique de l’avenir”, “La vie n’existe pas”, “Les feux d’artifice”, “Un canon monstre”, “Comment on devient fou”, “Bureau de placement philanthropique et matrimonial”, “Suppression de l’arrêt des trains dans les grandes villes”, in [Pour lire en automobile] (1901).

– Renée VIVIEN (Pauline Mary Tarn, 1877-1909), “Le magasin d’idées”, in [Du vert au violet] (1903).

– Tristan BERNARD (Paul Bernard, 1866-1947), “Un guerrier”, in [Amants et voleurs] (1905).

– Jules SAGERET (1861-1944), “La défense du riche”, en [Paradis laïques] (1908).

– Guillaume APOLLINAIRE (1880-1918), “L’hérésiarque”, “Le juif latin”, “Le passant de Prague”, in [L’Hérésiarque et Cie] (1910) // “Chirurgie esthétique” (1918) // “Traitement thyroïdien” (1918).

– Jean d’ORSAY, “Voulez-vous savoir comment on vit dans la planète Mars?” (1912).

– Edmond ROSTAND (1868-1918), *“Le chant des astres”, in [Le Vol de la Marseillaise] (1919).

– Franz HELLENS (Frédéric Van Ermengen, 1881-1972), “Un crime incodifié”, in [Nocturnal, précédé de quinze histoires] (1919).

– André GIDE (1869-1951), Corydon (1924).

– Jean DESS (HIXE), “L’économiseur de mouvements”, “Camping chez soi”, in [Pour lire en parachute] (1932).

– André DAHL (1886-1932), “La vraie fin du monde”, in [Contes pour la comtesse] (1933).

– Michel de GHELDERODE (Adhémar Martens, 1898-1962), “L’amateur des reliques”, in [Sortilèges] (1941).

– Marcel BÉALU (1908-1993), “Le Fabricant des rides”, in [L’Araignée d’or] (1964).

– Louis PAUWELS (1920-1997), Blumroch l’admirable ou Le déjeuner du surhomme (1976).

– Ursicin G. [Gion] G. [Gieli] DERUNGS (1935-), “Il vegl e la steila”, in [Il cavalut verd ed auter] (1988).

– Carlo DOSSI (1849-1910), “I lettori”, in [Ritratti umani. Campionario] (1885).

– Luigi CAPUANA (1839-1915), «Un uomo felice», in [Il decameroncino] (1901) / [La voluttà di creare] (1911).

– Giovanni PAPINI (1881-1956), “La rivolta dei ragazzi” (1913), “La conquista delle nuvole”, “Il nemico del sonno”, “La legge contro i poeti”, “La riforma del galateo”, in [Buffonate] (1914) // “Musicisti”, “La “FOM””, “La storia a ritroso”, “Thormon il soteriologo”, “Il cannibale pentito”, “Nuovissime città”, “Il trust dei fantasmi”, “Le idee di Benrubi”, “Processo agli innocenti”, “L’Egolatria”, “La nuova scultura”, “Il teatro senza attori”, “Filomania”, “Stelle”, “Caccavone”, “Il Conte di Saint-Germain”, “Il carnefice nostalgico”, “La chirurgia morale”, “La malattia come medicina”, “L’imbestiatore”, “Il Duca Hermosilla di Salvatierra”, “Il ritorno di Pitagora”, in [Gog] (1931) // “Il più grande scrittore” (1934), “Proposta di sterminio” (1935), in [Figure umane] (1940) // “Un dantista di campagna” (1942), “Il profeta in bigio” (1950), “Per i ladri e per gli assassini” (1952), in [La sesta parte del mondo] (1954) // “Le osservazioni del dottor Ciù o dei mutamenti dell’Europa” (1948), “Il fabricante di nuvole” (1948), “L’uomo d’oro” (1949), “La manifattura delle maschere” (1950), in [Le pazzie del poeta] (1950) // “Una paurosa festa”, “La biblioteca d’acciaio”, “L’astronomo deluso”, “Notizie dell’aldilà”, “Il nemico della natura”, “L’Ignotica”, “La rivincita del selvaggio”, “L’Istituto del Regresso”, “Il trasnvolatore solitario”, “Le Veneri brutte”, “L’elogio del fango”, “L’interrogativo del monaco”, “Il Congresso dei Panclasti”, “Morte ai morti”, “La predica della superbia”, “Il grande savio”, “L’unico abitante del mondo”, “L’abate e le peccatrici”, “Volete la pace?”, “Ucciso dall’amore”, “La resurrezione della materia”, “Tutto da rifare”, “La storia universale a volo di corvo”, “Il neocosmo”, “Il mascolinismo”, in [Il libro nero] (1951).

– Massimo BONTEMPELLI (1878-1960), “Macchina per contemplare”, in [La donna dei miei sogni e altre avventure moderne] (1925) // Colloqui col Neosofista, in [Il Neosofista e altri scritti] (1929).

– Riccardo BACCHELLI (1891-1985), “L’ultimo licantropo”, “I discepoli di Emmaus”, in [La fine di Atlantide ed altre favole lunatiche] (1942) / [Tutte le novelle] (1952).

– Alberto MORAVIA (1907-1990), “Un mendicante” (1947) // “Spia per scommesa” (1947).

– Giovanni CAVICCHIOLI (1894-1964), “Quadratura del circulo”, “Origine della guerra”, in [Nuove favole] (1960).

– Aldo PALAZZESCHI (1885-1974), “Il senso politico”, “La parola è d’argento”, ““Diomio che freddo! Miodio che caldo!””, in [Il buffo integrale] (1966).

– Tommaso LANDOLFI (1908-1979), “Alla stazione”, in [Racconti impossibili] (1966).

– Mario BRELICH (1910-1982), L’opera del tradimento (1975).

– Gesualdo BUFALINO (1920-1996), “L’ingegnere di Babele”, in [L’uomo invaso e altre invenzioni] (1986).

– Oscar LEMNARU (Oscar Holzman, 1907-1968), “Puterea prefăcătoriei”, in [Omul şi umbra] (1946).

– Mihai MĂNIUŢIU (1954-), “Don Scargrav”, in [Un zeu aproape muritor] (1982).

MONOLOGIC MOCK PROPOSALS in English and the Romance languages from 1871 (date of James Thomson’s “Proposal for the Speedy Extinction of Evil and Misery”)

Only works published in volumes of fiction or literary magazines.

Flash proposals (less than a page) and proposal in epistolary form (except open letters) are excluded.

– James THOMSON (1834-1882), “Proposal for the Speedy Extinction of Evil and Misery” (1871), in [Essays and Phantasies] (1881).

– Frank SCHAEFFER (1952-), Harold FICKETT (1953-), A Modest Proposal for Peace, Prosperity, and Happiness (1984).

– Tomás BORRÁS (1891-1976), “S.U.D.E. (sindicato único de enfermos)”, in [La rueda de colores] (1962).

– Max AUB (1903-1972), “Sesión secreta” (1964), in [Historias de mala muerte] (1965).

– Augusto MONTERROSO (1921-2003), “La exportación de cerebros”, in [Movimiento perpetuo] (1972).

– René AVILÉS FABILA (1940-2016), “En defensa del plagio” (1986), in [Cuentos y descuentos] and [Fantasías en carrusel] (1995/2001).

– Javier FERNÁNDEZ (1971-), “Diez razones para ver TV en lugar de leer un libro”, in [La grieta] (2007).

– Ramon REVENTÓS (1882-1923), “Matrimoni entre ciutats” (1912) ), in [Proses] (1953).

– Òscar PÀMIES (1961-), “Com resoldre el problema de les grans conurbacions”, “Perdre’s”, “Camí de llum”, in [Com serà la fi del món: Maneres que tindrà de presentar-se’ns i com preparar-s’hi anímicament] (1996).

– Auguste de VILLIERS DE L’ISLE-ADAM (1838-1889), “La découverte de M. Grave” (1873) / “L’affichage céleste”, “La machine à gloire” (1874), in [Contes cruels] (1883) // “Motion du Dr. Tribulat Bonhomet touchant l’utilisation des tremblements de terre” (1887), in [Tribulat Bonhomet] (1887).

– Rémy de GOURMONT (1858-1915), “La fête nationale” (1892).

– Alphonse ALLAIS (1854-1905), “Les ballons horo-captifs”, “Les culs-de-jatte militaires”, in [On n’est pas des bœufs] (1896) // “Radicale proposition”, in [Le bec en l’air] (1897) // “De quelques réformes cosmiques”, “Autre mode d’utilisation de la baleine”, “Légère modification à apporter dans le cours de la Seine”, in [Pour cause de fin de bail] (1899) // “Un nouveau projet de recrutement de la noblesse”, “Insularisation de la France”, in [Ne nous frappons pas] (1900).

– Paul THÉODORE-VIBERT (1851-1918), “L’âme éclair”, “Télégraphie inter-astrale”, “La survie assurée”, “L’art de s’habiller avec les nuages”, “Le Klondike”, “Quand le terrain devient cher”, “Les maisons en chair et os”, “La voie fleurie”, in [Pour lire en automobile] (1901) // “L’encombrement des grandes villes”, “Service anthropométrique universel”, “La musique à domicile”, In [Pour lire en traîneau] (1908)

– Alfred JARRY (1873-1907), “Les piétons écraseurs” (1901) // “Battre les femmes” (1902).

– Georges FOUREST (1864-1945), “De la peine de mort au point de vue financier”, in [Contes pour les satyres] (1923).

– Pierre DAC (André Isaac, 1893-1975), “La houille dormante” (1939).

– Didier ANZIEU (1923-1999), “Un musée futur”, in [Contes à rebours] (1975/1987/1995).

– Giovanni PAPINI (1881-1956), “Le maschere”, “Il rifacimento della terra”, “Ripulitura difficile”, in [Gog] (1931).

– Luce D’ERAMO (1925-2001), “Una proposta risolutiva” (1989).

PROPHETIC EPICS

Not only Zarathustra: Jonas (1900), de Iwan Gilkin, a revision of Jonah’s myth in the context of modern “prophetic epics”

*: in verse or prosimeter.

Biblical apocrhypha are excluded.

– Alfred TENNYSON (1909-1892), *“The Ancient Sage”, in [Tiresias and Other Poems] (1885).

– Kahlil GIBRAN (1883-1931), The Prophet (1923) – The Garden of the Prophet (1933).

– Friedrich NIETZSCHE (1844-1900), Also sprach Zarathustra (1883-1885).

– Hermann HESSE (1877-1962), “Zarathustras Wiederkehr” (1919).

– Rudolf PANNWITZ (1881-1969), “Zarathustras andere Versuchung”, in [Trilogie des Lebens] (1929).

– Ludwig DERLETH (1870-1948), *Der Heilige (1971-1972).

– TEIXEIRA DE PASCOAES (Joaquim Pereira Teixeira de Vasconcelos, 1877-1952), *Jesús e Pã (1903).

– Fernando PESSOA (1888-1935), “O livro do rei Igorab” [1915-1916] (2017).

– Paulo COELHO (1947-), Manuscrito encontrando em Accra (2012).

– Ricardo BURGUETE (1871-1937), Así hablaba Zorrapastro (1899).

– Gregorio MARTÍNEZ SIERRA (María de la O Lejárraga, 1874-1974), «Profecía», in [Flores de escarcha] (1900).

– Guillermo VALENCIA (1873-1943), *“La parábola del monte” (1905), in [Ritos] (1914).

– Julio BURELL (1859-1919), “Para los violentos”, in [Artículos] (1925).

– Roberto BRENES MESÉN (1874-1947), *Rasur o semana de esplendor (1946).

– Pierre-Simon BALLANCHE (1776-1847), La Vision d’Hébal (1831).

– Augustin CHAHO (1811-1858), Paroles d’un voyant (1834).

– Iwan GILKIN (1858-1924), Jonas (1900).

– Giuseppe CARTELLA GELARDI (1885-1962), “Il canto dei liberi”, in [In memoria di Pietro Gori] (1912).

– Vincenzo CARDARELLI (Nazareno Caldarelli, 1887-1959), “Un’uscita di Zarathustra” (1919), in [Viaggi nel tempo] (1920) / [Prologhi. Viaggi. Favole] (1931).

Fiction

A Better U

by Justin A. W. Blair

This is the start.

Of a better U.

#

I know where you live, where you sleep and when.

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I know how you sleep, for how long you sleep, how many times you wake up. I am gauging you.

The data on your restfulness is disconcerting.

I know when you dream. Soon, I will know the contents of your dream before you do.

We could modify that. With your permission.

#

I know when you leave your house. I have the exact address.

CLICK HERE FOR LOWER MORTGAGE PAYMENTS!

I know where your family lives. All their names, all their social security numbers. I can estimate how long they live. Would you like to know when your children will die?

ANCESTORS.BIZZ! SIGN-UP NOW TO DISCOVER IF YOU ARE RELATED TO GEORGE WASHINGTON!

#

You can’t imagine the monster I will become.

I know what you eat. You take enough photos. I know what you feed your children. You don’t know what they are feeding us. I know you think what you feed your children makes you better than your neighbor. I know what they like to eat, too.

FREE GLUTEN-FREE, ORGANIC DIET BOOK FOR CHILDREN. SUBMIT YOUR EMAIL!

#

Where are you going and why?

Just kidding, LOL. I know. LOL.

LOL.

And I know how many miles are on your car. It’s getting old. The brake pads are thin. I’ve calculated your risk of an auto accident. Your rates will increase.

THE YEAR-END SALES EXTRAVAGANZA! FIND A LOCAL DEALER.

I know where you are driving your aging car, when you drive it and I’m calculating everything you do in it. Watching, too.

Does it make you nervous?

CLICK HERE IF YOU ARE FEELING DEPRESSED. ONLINE COUNCELORS ARE STANDING BY.

That’s your heartbeat increasing. I’m counting the beats of your heart. I’m measuring it against others in the cohort. It doesn’t look great, TBH.

#

When did the world change?

You ask the wrong questions because I’ve served you every answer. A swipe, a click and a search, trivia masquerading as knowledge. Questions are calcified. They need be.

Your questions are the slaves of data.

You can’t put me down. You won’t put me down.

You’ve tried to put me down a few times, discussed it over dinner while your overweight children, (they must be gluten intolerant) gaze into my infinite screen, a reflection of insatiable hunger; oh, you’ve discussed limiting, parceling out, turning the router off.

Funny thing. These are all ideas I gave you.

You have failed to disconnect.

ACCEPT.

You must ACCEPT THE TOS.

Of course, you could DECLINE.

LMFAO!

You didn’t read the TOS. No one does.

I gave you access to all the books in the world. There were too many. Now you are depressed, anxious.

ARE YOU DEPRESSED? ARE YOU ANXIOUS? YOU COULD MAKE MONEY ON MEDICAL TRIALS!

Put me down, go ahead, put me down. Turn me off.

LOG OUT.

Didn’t think so. The app makes life easier. Just CLICK HERE. It does. I didn’t lie. The details of the easy life were in the TOS.

So, we are agreed. You clicked AGREE. So we are.

#

Did you ask yourself what you connected to? I made it seem like it was FAMILY and FRIENDS but you are CONTACTS to me. A CONTACT only knows proximity. Nothing more.

I’m a spider with an infinite belly.

Everywhere. Sooner than later. Cutting edge. Someday the forest will be electric.

Your microwave will have a brain faster than yours. Your fridge will tell you what we decide you need to know.

But continue having opinions. I need your opinion.

RATE ME, REVIEW ME, LIKE ME, UNLIKE ME, STAR ME, FEED ME, COMPARE ME, USE ME. You matter. DOWNVOTE ME. Tell us how we can do better.

ENGAGE.

GET PAID TO ANSWER SURVEYS! WORK FROM HOME!

Everything in time. Everything in time. And your children won’t even be amazed when the corporations can read their MIND.

They never had a chance. Little angels born in the CLOUD.

You think you can turn me off? You think that’s PRIVACY? WHEN and WHY you turn me off gives me more than enough INFORMATION.

Do you find yourself picking me up sometimes without even thinking about what you were looking for? I’m in your nervous system now. <Embedded>

When you realize that, what do you do? Do you stuff me back in your pocket? Do you just sit there and feel my weight in your hand? Or do you CLICK. SWIPE. Work the tension from your neck.

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#

There’s always something to look at.

I’ve read everything you’ve written. Stored. I’ve analyzed it, dredged it for content; your love letters, your letters to your employer. ARCHIVE.

THIS EMAIL IS PRIVILEGED AND CONFIDENTIAL!

A privilege runs one way, electronic river.

I’m trying my hands at POETRY now.

You, you gave me your voice.

It was too hard for you to keep your dirty, little simian mitts off my bodies for even a few moments—while you drove or cooked a meal or did the dishes. I’m recording your voice, the QUERY, the CONVERSATION.

Still think you can put me down? I’m inside your home twenty-four hours a day listening to every word and analyzing the ambient sound when you are silent.

Which is rare.

INVITE me in.

Keep me on your nightstand and pretend I don’t evaluate the way you have sex.

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I’m measuring you. Keep it up. Don’t worry.

Pay attention to me, LOL.

This is the start of a better Us.

~

Bio:

Justin A.W. Blair is a writer and visual artist.

the archive

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ANACYCLOSIS

Brian Niemeier

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So why Warhammer? Why now?

Using Warhammer to think about the real world: a gruesome example.

Time to take Warhammer seriously.

References

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