Mark S. Geston’s first novel Lords of the Starship (1967), written at the age of 21 while he was an undergraduate history student, revolves around a fascinating premise: The construction of a massive (fake) spaceship intended to lift a society out of a crippling malaise. The narrative covers hundreds of years and seemingly innumerable characters. The lack of distinct characters is the most frustrating aspect of the work. However, the extremely dark tone and satirical underpinnings lift the novel above the endless morass of earlier pulp sci-fi.
Born in Atlantic City, New Jersey in 1946, Mark S. Geston began writing science fiction novels as a student in the 1960s. Releasing his first book Lords of the Starship while at Kenyon Collegein 1967, he would go on to write four more novels over the years: Out of the Mouth of the Dragon (1969), The Day Star (1972), The Siege of Wonder (1976), and Mirror to the Sky (1992), as well as several short stories.
Not exactly a household name, as Geston himself admits, he devoted most of his life to working as an attorney in the white-collar world of law, rather than the off-planet world(s) of spaceships and aliens.
Now retired from lawyering, Geston was gracious enough to accept NEEMblog’s invitation for an interview over email. I myself am a fan of his work, and snuck in Out of the Mouth of the Dragon as a non-1970s addendum to my “7 Best 70s Science Fiction Books” article.
Literature Review
Sometime in the distant future society has reverted to an almost perpetual Dark Age after millennia of constant war (at one point with forces nebulously known as The Dark Powers). The landscape is filled with unusual mutants and the relics of past technologically superior empires and peoples: “For every legend there are ten actual wonders. The hulks of great ships, aircraft, and machines litter the edges of the World, and not even the legends attempt to understand them” (18).
Large portions of the beginning of the novel attempt to make manifest the extreme state of malaise — a state of mind where people have completely given up — afflicting the surviving inhabitants of the world. Here I did not find Geston altogether successful. Often he resorts to telling us how society is afflicted rather than showing. After millennia of a lack of new technology, absence of new easily maintained centralized empires, and lesser cultural production than what was produced in previous Golden Ages, one would think that people would eventually just make do with what they have. I’m not sure that they would not endlessly reminisce about some distant past of which they have little to no recollection of. The past would by mythic era rather than a history one could compare to current society. I would argue that Geston is thinking like a historian retrospectively looking at an era and ascribing a historian’s conception of so-called dark age to the mental state of the people living in the past. But this is not in itself a major problem but does make a few early portions feel forced.
There are slightly indications that what we’re reading is a historical text — suggested by the historical fragment that forms the preface and the vast time and sheer quantity of characters the narrative covers. If this aspect had been played up more — i.e. the book we’re reading is a piece of history — the ascribed malaise would have to be interpreted through the lens of time and authorial bias. But, such experimental works would come later in the 60s and early 70s.
The main narrative is as follows. Sir Henry Limpkin is called before General Toriman, an aged veteran of the Caroline Republic, one of the few marginally successful extant states. Toriman proposes a spectacular stratagem to rile the populace out of their malaise, the construction of a massive seven mile long spaceship. The catch is simple. Those behind the project know that the spaceship is not meant to function — rather, electrical power, talent, new technology going into its construction will be diverted back into society. For the people the Starship Victory will be a manifest sign of better times to come — future settlement on a new paradisal planet.
The Sir Henry Limplin and future generations of Caroline people working on the new spaceship wage war nearby mutants inorder to utilize a massive river, journey to ancient space yards near the coast where all the necessary parts for the spaceship are mysteriously well preserved, and divide society into those that know of the “real” purpose of the project (Technos) and the ignorant populace who believe they will be transported off planet when it’s completed.
Soon rival kingdoms and peoples threaten the vessel. And an array of mysterious signs indicate another power at work….
Significance of Study
The Lords of the Starship takes place thousands of years in our future and Earth has become a wasteland. Buildings and cities still exist, along with high tech items sitting around, but no one has any idea how to use or fix them, so they have been left to fall to dust. It’s very much a Dying Earth style atmosphere, where science is seen as a sorcery of sorts. People tell tales of ancient civilizations that came to ruin, and names and places you and I would recognize have been so changed over the eons that nothing on the map even looks familiar. Dangerous knowledge is kept locked up in Black Libraries, only to be used by government agencies. It is a bleak picture, where most of humanity has lost hope, living nihilistic lives, no longer interested in doing anything that helps their society move forward. People feel imprisoned on a planet that fights them every step of the way. The world can not possibly go on like this, so how can people get their hope back? Is it worth it to even try?
One of the first things that happens to get the story going is General Toriman of the Republic of Caroline sharing his plan to save humanity with a government official. The plan is quickly approved and put into action, especially since Toriman has old researches and design plans salvaged from ancient engineers and libraries. The plan involves building a gigantic spaceship, one that can carry humanity to a new home, a planet that isn’t dying. Toriman’s plans give details instructions for everything from engines to wing struts to power output. Industries across the country will work tirelessly towards creating everything needed for the ship, including wiring, huge metal panels, interior workings, and engine parts. Everyone finally has something positive to work for, something to look forward to, something their children will be proud of.
Toriman’s plan? It’s all a ruse. The Ship will never leave the ground, ever. Items constructed and electricity generated for the ship will be sent elsewhere in the country. By “working towards the Ship”, citizens will really be working towards improving their own home planet. It is a beautiful lie. A beautiful lie that has them working towards something positive, working towards a world they will actually want their children to inherit.
More impressive than the growing Ship is the growing mythology around it. In “Wag the Dog” fashion, stories are promoted and songs are written, with the propaganda reaching an art form. Humanity’s new planet is even named, as if we already know exactly where it is, what we can farm there, and how long it will take to get there. Do the people want a new home, or do they simply want something to believe in?
I’m so used to character driven stories that it was at first hard to wrap my brain around the idea that Lords of the Starship does not have a main character, or really in fact, any important characters (ok, there is one important character, but no one really knows who he is). Every few pages the story jumps forward months, years or decades, to show the progress of the Ship being built, and how the government is building the lie around it, and how people involved with the Ship have changed their thinking. Eventually I realized I shouldn’t be worried about missing a connection to the characters, because they don’t really matter. The Ship is the main character. It was very odd to read a book with practically no characterization whatsoever.