by Ted Gioia
India celebrated its independence from the British
Empire shortly after midnight on August 15,
1947. No, Salman Rushdie wasn’t born on that
precise day and hour—he arrived on the scene 57
days earlier, the son of a middle-class Muslim
family in Mumbai. But
Rushdie's most famous
protagonist, Saleem Sinai
takes his first breath at the
very moment of his nation's
release from colonial control.
As a result, Saleem’s photo is
featured in the Times of India,
and the infant receives a con-
gratulatory letter from Prime
Minister Nehru:
"Dear Baby Saleem, My belated congratulations on
the happy accident of your moment of birth! You are
the newest bearer of that ancient face of India which
is also eternally young. We shall be watching over
your life with the closest attention; it will be, in a
sense, a mirror of our own."
Nehru’s words come true with a vengeance—not just
for Saleem, but for his whole cohort of "midnight’s
children," those hundreds of others also born on
August 15, 1947. In a strange quirk of fate, each of
these youngsters was given some magical power, and
the closer their time of birth approached the midnight
moment of independence, the more impressive the
ability. Saleem learns during his adolescence that he
has been given the power of telepathy. Others who
share his birthday, can turn base metals into gold,
travel in time, enchant strangers with their
preternatural beauty, and perform a host of other
miracles. This remarkable cadre includes "Kerala, a
boy who had the ability of stepping into mirrors and
re-emerging through any reflective surface—through
lakes and (with greater difficulty) the polished metal
bodies of automobiles…and a Goanese girl with the
gift of multiplying fish…and children with the powers
of transformation: a werewolf from the Nilgiri Hills,
and from the great watershed of the Vindhyas, a boy
who could increase or reduce his size at will…."
We have now entered the realm of so-called magical
realism, and Rushdie doesn't hold back in infusing his
novel with the mystical, the implausible and the
wholly impossible. Our author is clearly indebted to
Gabriel García Márquez, whose influence hovers
over almost every aspect of this work. (And I would
have hoped for one further step of emulation—the
inclusion of a family tree as a frontispiece would have
been a great aid in this novel with almost 100
significant characters, around half of them related by
blood or marriage.) But Rushdie incorporates, if
anything, even more magic into his novel than does
his Colombian role model. That said, he does not
stint on the realism, and stuffs his novel full of the
historical and political events of India and Pakistan
during the first several decades of independence.
We encounter the optimism of the early days of
Indian statehood, the assassination of Mahatma
Gandhi the following year, the Five Year Plan of the
early 1950s, the conflicts with Pakistan and China, the
rise to power of Indira Gandhi, the Bangladesh
liberation war, India’s development of nuclear
weapons, the Indian state of emergency and
suppression of political opposition of 1975-1977, and
other incidents, minor and major, of the era.
Scholars and critics typically take on the task of
drawing the symbolic connections between world-
historical events and the quirky personal exploits of
the characters who inhabit a work of fiction. But
Rushdie has already done this work for us—in almost
laborious detail. A significant portion of Midnight’s
Children reads like the mutterings of a fastidious
literary critic, as the narrator expounds on the many
linkages between characters, symbols and events. "As
a people we are obsessed with correspondences,"
Rushdie writes at one point in this novel. "Similarities
between this and that, between apparently
unconnected things, make us clap our hands
delightedly when we find them out. It is a sort of
national longing for form—or perhaps simply an
expression of our deep belief that forms lie hidden
within reality; that meaning reveals itself only in
flashes." Certainly Rushdie shares this fixation with
connections, and never lets the opportunity to pass in
this work of pointing out the similarities, repetitions
and other linkages—both metaphorical and real—that
figure so prominently in Midnight’s Children.
Even while admiring the imaginative riches of this
bountiful novel, I couldn't repress the tedium caused
by many of these lengthy digressions. Readers must
navigate through an interminable account of the
symbolic resonances of snakes and ladders, recurring
speculations on noses and knees, and—worst of all—
Rushdie drones on at length about the four kinds of
connection between characters and historical events
in his novel, namely, the passive-literal, the passive-
metaphorical, the active-literal and the active-
metaphorical. I would like to think that this digression
was intended as a parody of bad literary criticism, but
I suspect that Rushdie was merely, once again,
exhibiting the "obsession with correspondences"
described above. No, I did not clap my hands
delightedly.
But if I dream of a revised Midnight’s Children, vastly
improved by the excision of a hundred or so pages—
ah, that would be the true masterpiece!—I also
recognize that Rushdie is intentionally imparting a
long-windedness to his magnum opus. His narrator
often apologizes for his meandering accounts, and
Rushdie invents the character of Padma, who is
listening to the story as it is recounted, and constantly
trying to keep Saleem on track and concise—
hopelessly, because Rushdie has channeled this story
through the voice of a storyteller who hates to come
to the point. At times, Midnight’s Children even
resembles Tristram Shandy, Laurence Sterne’s extended
exercise in thwarting readers’ expectations about plot
and pacing. As with Tristram Shandy, Midnight’s Children
deliberately delays the birth of its main character for
chapter after chapter after chapter, and takes a
sardonic delight in not coming to the point.
Then again, I can hardly blame Saleem Sinai for not
wanting to get on with a story in which so many things
go badly for the narrator. Let others write about rags-
to-riches, Rushdie prefers to tell us about riches-to-
rags. Even Saleem’s face, body and internal organs
take a severe beating during the course of these pages,
and not all of his constituent parts survive to the end
of the book. His hopes and dreams face equally
daunting obstacles—but in a book in which the main
character represents (metaphorically, literally, actively,
passively) the fate of a nation during a time of turmoil,
we should expect no less.
Saleem's destiny is also shared by those other children
of midnight. Can their magic overcome the banalities,
the crudities, the indiscretions, the corrupt failings
that surround them? Or are the exigencies of history
too powerful for even those who can transmute lead
into gold, read minds, multiply fish, and travel
through time? In the final analysis, Rushdie has
achieved something fresh and original in this novel:
he has crafted a magical realism in which ultimately
the magic and the realism match up in confrontation—
the fanciful and pragmatic go to war, so to speak—and
that is a battle with, yes, meaning for India, but also
with a few connections outside of Rushdie’s native
land. I am happy to say that our author—in a rare
concession—allows us to make some of those
connections on our own.
Ted Gioia writes on music, books and popular culture. His
most recent book is The Birth (and Death) of the Cool.
India celebrated its independence from the British
Empire shortly after midnight on August 15,
1947. No, Salman Rushdie wasn’t born on that
precise day and hour—he arrived on the scene 57
days earlier, the son of a middle-class Muslim
family in Mumbai. But
Rushdie's most famous
protagonist, Saleem Sinai
takes his first breath at the
very moment of his nation's
release from colonial control.
As a result, Saleem’s photo is
featured in the Times of India,
and the infant receives a con-
gratulatory letter from Prime
Minister Nehru:
"Dear Baby Saleem, My belated congratulations on
the happy accident of your moment of birth! You are
the newest bearer of that ancient face of India which
is also eternally young. We shall be watching over
your life with the closest attention; it will be, in a
sense, a mirror of our own."
Nehru’s words come true with a vengeance—not just
for Saleem, but for his whole cohort of "midnight’s
children," those hundreds of others also born on
August 15, 1947. In a strange quirk of fate, each of
these youngsters was given some magical power, and
the closer their time of birth approached the midnight
moment of independence, the more impressive the
ability. Saleem learns during his adolescence that he
has been given the power of telepathy. Others who
share his birthday, can turn base metals into gold,
travel in time, enchant strangers with their
preternatural beauty, and perform a host of other
miracles. This remarkable cadre includes "Kerala, a
boy who had the ability of stepping into mirrors and
re-emerging through any reflective surface—through
lakes and (with greater difficulty) the polished metal
bodies of automobiles…and a Goanese girl with the
gift of multiplying fish…and children with the powers
of transformation: a werewolf from the Nilgiri Hills,
and from the great watershed of the Vindhyas, a boy
who could increase or reduce his size at will…."
We have now entered the realm of so-called magical
realism, and Rushdie doesn't hold back in infusing his
novel with the mystical, the implausible and the
wholly impossible. Our author is clearly indebted to
Gabriel García Márquez, whose influence hovers
over almost every aspect of this work. (And I would
have hoped for one further step of emulation—the
inclusion of a family tree as a frontispiece would have
been a great aid in this novel with almost 100
significant characters, around half of them related by
blood or marriage.) But Rushdie incorporates, if
anything, even more magic into his novel than does
his Colombian role model. That said, he does not
stint on the realism, and stuffs his novel full of the
historical and political events of India and Pakistan
during the first several decades of independence.
We encounter the optimism of the early days of
Indian statehood, the assassination of Mahatma
Gandhi the following year, the Five Year Plan of the
early 1950s, the conflicts with Pakistan and China, the
rise to power of Indira Gandhi, the Bangladesh
liberation war, India’s development of nuclear
weapons, the Indian state of emergency and
suppression of political opposition of 1975-1977, and
other incidents, minor and major, of the era.
Scholars and critics typically take on the task of
drawing the symbolic connections between world-
historical events and the quirky personal exploits of
the characters who inhabit a work of fiction. But
Rushdie has already done this work for us—in almost
laborious detail. A significant portion of Midnight’s
Children reads like the mutterings of a fastidious
literary critic, as the narrator expounds on the many
linkages between characters, symbols and events. "As
a people we are obsessed with correspondences,"
Rushdie writes at one point in this novel. "Similarities
between this and that, between apparently
unconnected things, make us clap our hands
delightedly when we find them out. It is a sort of
national longing for form—or perhaps simply an
expression of our deep belief that forms lie hidden
within reality; that meaning reveals itself only in
flashes." Certainly Rushdie shares this fixation with
connections, and never lets the opportunity to pass in
this work of pointing out the similarities, repetitions
and other linkages—both metaphorical and real—that
figure so prominently in Midnight’s Children.
Even while admiring the imaginative riches of this
bountiful novel, I couldn't repress the tedium caused
by many of these lengthy digressions. Readers must
navigate through an interminable account of the
symbolic resonances of snakes and ladders, recurring
speculations on noses and knees, and—worst of all—
Rushdie drones on at length about the four kinds of
connection between characters and historical events
in his novel, namely, the passive-literal, the passive-
metaphorical, the active-literal and the active-
metaphorical. I would like to think that this digression
was intended as a parody of bad literary criticism, but
I suspect that Rushdie was merely, once again,
exhibiting the "obsession with correspondences"
described above. No, I did not clap my hands
delightedly.
But if I dream of a revised Midnight’s Children, vastly
improved by the excision of a hundred or so pages—
ah, that would be the true masterpiece!—I also
recognize that Rushdie is intentionally imparting a
long-windedness to his magnum opus. His narrator
often apologizes for his meandering accounts, and
Rushdie invents the character of Padma, who is
listening to the story as it is recounted, and constantly
trying to keep Saleem on track and concise—
hopelessly, because Rushdie has channeled this story
through the voice of a storyteller who hates to come
to the point. At times, Midnight’s Children even
resembles Tristram Shandy, Laurence Sterne’s extended
exercise in thwarting readers’ expectations about plot
and pacing. As with Tristram Shandy, Midnight’s Children
deliberately delays the birth of its main character for
chapter after chapter after chapter, and takes a
sardonic delight in not coming to the point.
Then again, I can hardly blame Saleem Sinai for not
wanting to get on with a story in which so many things
go badly for the narrator. Let others write about rags-
to-riches, Rushdie prefers to tell us about riches-to-
rags. Even Saleem’s face, body and internal organs
take a severe beating during the course of these pages,
and not all of his constituent parts survive to the end
of the book. His hopes and dreams face equally
daunting obstacles—but in a book in which the main
character represents (metaphorically, literally, actively,
passively) the fate of a nation during a time of turmoil,
we should expect no less.
Saleem's destiny is also shared by those other children
of midnight. Can their magic overcome the banalities,
the crudities, the indiscretions, the corrupt failings
that surround them? Or are the exigencies of history
too powerful for even those who can transmute lead
into gold, read minds, multiply fish, and travel
through time? In the final analysis, Rushdie has
achieved something fresh and original in this novel:
he has crafted a magical realism in which ultimately
the magic and the realism match up in confrontation—
the fanciful and pragmatic go to war, so to speak—and
that is a battle with, yes, meaning for India, but also
with a few connections outside of Rushdie’s native
land. I am happy to say that our author—in a rare
concession—allows us to make some of those
connections on our own.
Ted Gioia writes on music, books and popular culture. His
most recent book is The Birth (and Death) of the Cool.
| THE YEAR OF MAGICAL READING Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie |
Click on image to purchase
| The Year of Magical Reading (click here) |
Welcome to my year of magical
reading. Each week during the course
of 2012, I will explore an important
work of fiction that incorporates
elements of magic, fantasy or the
surreal. My choices will cross
conventional boundary lines of genre,
style and historical period—indeed, one
of my intentions in this project is to
show how the conventional labels
applied to these works have become
constraining, deadening and misleading.
In its earliest days, storytelling almost
always partook of the magical. Only in
recent years have we segregated works
arising from this venerable tradition
into publishing industry categories such
as "magical realism" or "paranormal"
or "fantasy" or some other 'genre'
pigeonhole. These labels are not without
their value, but too often they have
blinded us to the rich and
multidimensional heritage beyond category
that these works share.
This larger heritage is mimicked in our
individual lives: most of us first
experienced the joys of narrative fiction
through stories of myth and magic, the
fanciful and phantasmagorical; but only
a very few retain into adulthood this
sense of the kind of enchantment
possible only through storytelling. As
such, revisiting this stream of fiction
from a mature, literate perspective both
broadens our horizons and allows us to
recapture some of that magic in our
imaginative lives.
The Year of Magical Reading:
Week 1: Midnight's Children by Salman
Rushdie
Week 2: The House of the Spirits by
Isabel Allende
Week 3: The Witches of Eastwick by
John Updike
Week 4: Magic for Beginners by Kelly
Link
Week 5: The Tin Drum by Günter
Grass
Week 6: The Golden Ass by Apuleius
Week 7: The Tiger's Wife by Téa Obreht
Week 8: One Hundred Years of Solitude
by Gabriel García Márquez
Week 9: The Book of Laughter and
Forgetting by Milan Kundera
Week 10: Gargantua and Pantagruel by
François Rabelais
Week 11: The Famished Road by Ben
Okri
Week 12: Like Water for Chocolate by
Laura Esquivel
Week 13: Winter's Tale by Mark Helprin
Week 14: Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany
Week 15: Johnathan Strange & Mr.
Norrell by Susanna Clarke
Week 16: The Master and Margarita by
Mikhail Bulgakov
Week 17: Dangerous Laughter by Steven
Millhauser
Week 18: Conjure Wife by Fritz Leiber
Week 19: 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami
Week 20: The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
reading. Each week during the course
of 2012, I will explore an important
work of fiction that incorporates
elements of magic, fantasy or the
surreal. My choices will cross
conventional boundary lines of genre,
style and historical period—indeed, one
of my intentions in this project is to
show how the conventional labels
applied to these works have become
constraining, deadening and misleading.
In its earliest days, storytelling almost
always partook of the magical. Only in
recent years have we segregated works
arising from this venerable tradition
into publishing industry categories such
as "magical realism" or "paranormal"
or "fantasy" or some other 'genre'
pigeonhole. These labels are not without
their value, but too often they have
blinded us to the rich and
multidimensional heritage beyond category
that these works share.
This larger heritage is mimicked in our
individual lives: most of us first
experienced the joys of narrative fiction
through stories of myth and magic, the
fanciful and phantasmagorical; but only
a very few retain into adulthood this
sense of the kind of enchantment
possible only through storytelling. As
such, revisiting this stream of fiction
from a mature, literate perspective both
broadens our horizons and allows us to
recapture some of that magic in our
imaginative lives.
The Year of Magical Reading:
Week 1: Midnight's Children by Salman
Rushdie
Week 2: The House of the Spirits by
Isabel Allende
Week 3: The Witches of Eastwick by
John Updike
Week 4: Magic for Beginners by Kelly
Link
Week 5: The Tin Drum by Günter
Grass
Week 6: The Golden Ass by Apuleius
Week 7: The Tiger's Wife by Téa Obreht
Week 8: One Hundred Years of Solitude
by Gabriel García Márquez
Week 9: The Book of Laughter and
Forgetting by Milan Kundera
Week 10: Gargantua and Pantagruel by
François Rabelais
Week 11: The Famished Road by Ben
Okri
Week 12: Like Water for Chocolate by
Laura Esquivel
Week 13: Winter's Tale by Mark Helprin
Week 14: Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany
Week 15: Johnathan Strange & Mr.
Norrell by Susanna Clarke
Week 16: The Master and Margarita by
Mikhail Bulgakov
Week 17: Dangerous Laughter by Steven
Millhauser
Week 18: Conjure Wife by Fritz Leiber
Week 19: 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami
Week 20: The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
Follow Ted Gioia on Twitter at
www.twitter.com/tedgioia
Conceptual Fiction:
A Reading List
(with links to reviews)
Home Page
Abbott, Edwin A.
Flatland
Adams, Douglas
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Allende, Isabel
The House of the Spirits
Amis, Martin
Time's Arrow
Apuleius
The Golden Ass
Asimov, Isaac
The Foundation Trilogy
Asimov, Isaac
I, Robot
Atwood, Margaret
The Handmaid's Tale
Banks, Iain M.
The State of the Art
Ballard, J.G.
Crash
Ballard, J.G.
The Crystal World
Bester, Alfred
The Demolished Man
Bradbury, Ray
Dandelion Wine
Bradbury, Ray
Fahrenheit 451
Bradbury, Ray
The Illustrated Man
Bradbury, Ray
The Martian Chronicles
Bradbury, Ray
Something Wicked This Way Comes
Bulgakov, Mikhail
The Master and Margarita
Burgess, Anthony
A Clockwork Orange
Card, Orson Scott
Ender's Game
Chabon, Michael
The Yiddish Policemen's Union
Chiang, Ted
Stories of Your Life and Others
Clarke, Arthur C.
Childhood's End
Clarke, Arthur C.
A Fall of Moondust
Clarke, Arthur C.
2001: A Space Odyssey
Clarke, Susanna
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Danielewski, Mark Z.
House of Leaves
Delany, Samuel R.
Babel-17
Delany, Samuel R.
Dhalgren
Delany, Samuel R.
The Einstein Intersection
Dick, Philip K.
Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said
Dick, Philip K.
The Man in the High Castle
Dick, Philip K.
Ubik
Doctorow, Cory
Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom
Esquivel, Laura
Like Water for Chocolate
Gaiman, Neil
American Gods
Gibson, William
Burning Chrome
Gibson, William
Neuromancer
Grass, Günter
The Tin Drum
Haldeman, Joe
The Forever War
Hall, Steven
The Raw Shark Texts
Harrison, M. John
Light
Heinlein, Robert
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
Heinlein, Robert:
Stranger in a Strange Land
Heinlein, Robert
Time Enough for Love
Helprin, Mark
Winter's Tale
Herbert, Frank
Dune
Huxley, Aldous
Brave New World
Kundera, Milan
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting
Le Guin, Ursula K.
The Lathe of Heaven
Le Guin, Ursula K.
The Left Hand of Darkness
Leiber, Fritz
The Big Time
Leiber, Fritz
Conjure Wife
Leiber, Fritz
Swords & Deviltry
Leiber, Fritz
The Wanderer
Lem, Stanislaw
His Master's Voice
Lem, Stanislaw
Solaris
Lethem, Jonathan
The Fortress of Solitude
Lewis, C. S.
The Chronicles of Narnia
Link, Kelly
Magic for Beginners
Márquez, Gabriel García
100 Years of Solitude
McCarthy, Cormac
The Road
Miéville, China
Perdido Street Station
Miller, Jr., Walter M.
A Canticle for Leibowitz
Millhauser, Steven
Dangerous Laughter
Mitchell, David
Cloud Atlas
Murakami, Haruki
1Q84
Niffenegger, Audrey
The Time Traveler's Wife
Niven, Larry
Ringworld
Noon, Jeff
Vurt
Obreht, Téa
The Tiger's Wife
Okri, Ben
The Famished Road
Pohl, Frederik
Gateway
Pynchon, Thomas
Gravity's Rainbow
Rabelais, François
Gargantua and Pantagruel
Robinson, Kim Stanley
Red Mars
Rowling, J.K.
Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone
Rushdie, Salman
Midnight's Children
Saramago, José
Blindness
Shelley, Mary
Frankenstein
Silverberg, Robert
Dying Inside
Silverberg, Robert
Nightwings
Simak, Clifford
City
Simak, Clifford
The Trouble with Tycho
Smith, Cordwainer
Norstrilia
Smith, Cordwainer
The Rediscovery of Man
Stephenson, Neal
Snow Crash
Stross, Charles
Glasshouse
Sturgeon, Theodore
More Than Human
Sturgeon, Theodore
Some of Your Blood
Tolkien, J.R.R.
The Hobbit
Updike, John
The Witches of Eastwick
Van Vogt, A.E.
The Mixed Men
Van Vogt, A.E.
Slan
Van Vogt, A.E.
The Voyage of the Space Beagle
Van Vogt, A.E.
The World of Null A
Verne, Jules
Around the Moon
Verne, Jules
From the Earth to the Moon
Verne, Jules:
Journey to the Center of the Earth
Vonnegut, Kurt
Cat's Cradle
Vonnegut, Kurt
The Sirens of Titan
Vonnegut, Kurt
Slaughterhouse-Five
Wallace, David Foster
Infinite Jest
Wells, H.G.
The First Men in the Moon
Wells, H.G.
The Island of Dr. Moreau
Wells, H.G.
The Time Machine
Zelazny, Roger
Lord of Light
Special Features
Notes on Conceptual Fiction
Ray Bradbury: A Tribute
The Year of Magical Reading
Remembering Fritz Leiber
Samuel Delany's 70th birthday
The Sci-Fi of Kurt Vonnegut
Curse You, Neil Armstrong!
Robert Heinlein at 100
A.E, van Vogt Tribute
Links to related sites
The New Canon
Great Books Guide
Postmodern Mystery
Ted Gioia's web site
SF Site
io9
Graeme's Fantasy Book Review
Los Angeles Review of Books
Big Dumb Object
Jospeh Peschel
The Misread City
Reviews and Responses
SF Signal
True Science Fiction
Disclosure: Conceptual Fiction
and its sister sites may receive
review copies and promotional
materials from publishers,
authors, publicists or other
parties.
www.twitter.com/tedgioia
Conceptual Fiction:
A Reading List
(with links to reviews)
Home Page
Abbott, Edwin A.
Flatland
Adams, Douglas
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Allende, Isabel
The House of the Spirits
Amis, Martin
Time's Arrow
Apuleius
The Golden Ass
Asimov, Isaac
The Foundation Trilogy
Asimov, Isaac
I, Robot
Atwood, Margaret
The Handmaid's Tale
Banks, Iain M.
The State of the Art
Ballard, J.G.
Crash
Ballard, J.G.
The Crystal World
Bester, Alfred
The Demolished Man
Bradbury, Ray
Dandelion Wine
Bradbury, Ray
Fahrenheit 451
Bradbury, Ray
The Illustrated Man
Bradbury, Ray
The Martian Chronicles
Bradbury, Ray
Something Wicked This Way Comes
Bulgakov, Mikhail
The Master and Margarita
Burgess, Anthony
A Clockwork Orange
Card, Orson Scott
Ender's Game
Chabon, Michael
The Yiddish Policemen's Union
Chiang, Ted
Stories of Your Life and Others
Clarke, Arthur C.
Childhood's End
Clarke, Arthur C.
A Fall of Moondust
Clarke, Arthur C.
2001: A Space Odyssey
Clarke, Susanna
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Danielewski, Mark Z.
House of Leaves
Delany, Samuel R.
Babel-17
Delany, Samuel R.
Dhalgren
Delany, Samuel R.
The Einstein Intersection
Dick, Philip K.
Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said
Dick, Philip K.
The Man in the High Castle
Dick, Philip K.
Ubik
Doctorow, Cory
Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom
Esquivel, Laura
Like Water for Chocolate
Gaiman, Neil
American Gods
Gibson, William
Burning Chrome
Gibson, William
Neuromancer
Grass, Günter
The Tin Drum
Haldeman, Joe
The Forever War
Hall, Steven
The Raw Shark Texts
Harrison, M. John
Light
Heinlein, Robert
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
Heinlein, Robert:
Stranger in a Strange Land
Heinlein, Robert
Time Enough for Love
Helprin, Mark
Winter's Tale
Herbert, Frank
Dune
Huxley, Aldous
Brave New World
Kundera, Milan
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting
Le Guin, Ursula K.
The Lathe of Heaven
Le Guin, Ursula K.
The Left Hand of Darkness
Leiber, Fritz
The Big Time
Leiber, Fritz
Conjure Wife
Leiber, Fritz
Swords & Deviltry
Leiber, Fritz
The Wanderer
Lem, Stanislaw
His Master's Voice
Lem, Stanislaw
Solaris
Lethem, Jonathan
The Fortress of Solitude
Lewis, C. S.
The Chronicles of Narnia
Link, Kelly
Magic for Beginners
Márquez, Gabriel García
100 Years of Solitude
McCarthy, Cormac
The Road
Miéville, China
Perdido Street Station
Miller, Jr., Walter M.
A Canticle for Leibowitz
Millhauser, Steven
Dangerous Laughter
Mitchell, David
Cloud Atlas
Murakami, Haruki
1Q84
Niffenegger, Audrey
The Time Traveler's Wife
Niven, Larry
Ringworld
Noon, Jeff
Vurt
Obreht, Téa
The Tiger's Wife
Okri, Ben
The Famished Road
Pohl, Frederik
Gateway
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Gravity's Rainbow
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Red Mars
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Harry Potter & the Sorcerer's Stone
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Midnight's Children
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Blindness
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Frankenstein
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Dying Inside
Silverberg, Robert
Nightwings
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City
Simak, Clifford
The Trouble with Tycho
Smith, Cordwainer
Norstrilia
Smith, Cordwainer
The Rediscovery of Man
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Snow Crash
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Glasshouse
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More Than Human
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Some of Your Blood
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The Mixed Men
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Slan
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The Voyage of the Space Beagle
Van Vogt, A.E.
The World of Null A
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Around the Moon
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From the Earth to the Moon
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Journey to the Center of the Earth
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Cat's Cradle
Vonnegut, Kurt
The Sirens of Titan
Vonnegut, Kurt
Slaughterhouse-Five
Wallace, David Foster
Infinite Jest
Wells, H.G.
The First Men in the Moon
Wells, H.G.
The Island of Dr. Moreau
Wells, H.G.
The Time Machine
Zelazny, Roger
Lord of Light
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Robert Heinlein at 100
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