by Pat Frank
p. 1959
Without really intending to, June sort of became ‘Apocalypse
Month’ for me, as all three novels I read that month dealt heavily with the end
of the world, and all in vastly different ways. But whereas Good Omens and The Devil’s Cat were worlds on the brink of apocalypse, thwarted at
the last moment, Alas, Babylon is one
of those postwar apocalyptic novels that explores what happens after the world has suffered a nuclear
holocaust. The last one I read like this was Mordecai Roshwald’s Level 7, and any comparisons between the
two are apt.
It’s an interesting thing, the mentality that existed in Cold
War era fiction. Whereas post-apocalyptic fiction was nothing new, the threat of
nuclear holocaust added a new dimension to the genre with the implication that—at
least in this instance—humanity is directly responsible for its own downfall
and have no one to blame but themselves for the bleak world they left for the
future, if indeed there is even a future left.
Alas, Babylon
centers on the day to day trials of Randy Bragg and his town of Fort Repose,
Florida, in the direct aftermath of a nuclear exchange that devastated the United
States to the point where it became a third world nation in a matter of
minutes.
Randy was a largely directionless but amiable young man who
only thrived in his postwar world because he was warned by his older brother, a
military man who saw the incident coming in time to send his family to Randy
for protection. Suddenly saddled with numerous responsibilities, Randy does
what he can to protect those closest to him—his sister in law and their two
young children (who are remarkably well composed, given the circumstances;
perhaps a bit more composed than what
is natural), Randy’s girlfriend and her father, the town doctor, a couple of
elderly female neighbors. Randy also warns the black neighbors who worked for
him prior to the nuclear exchange (referred to in the novel as ‘The Day’) and a
relationship of mutual assistance forms, which is crucial to the town’s
survival. There are moments when the way the black characters are depicted
feels a bit uncomfortable, but I have to say that—given the time frame in which
it was written (1959)—Pat Frank is relatively politically correct, all things
considered. Randy is a forward-thinking and fair-minded man, and it helps spur
him on in his newfound ability to lead, a role previously alien to him.
Another thing I was mostly impressed by was Pat Frank’s
depiction of women. I have been saying for years now—ever since I got into
early science fiction—that it was my goal to find a male author who wrote
positive roles for women prior to the seventies. Thus far, Alas, Babylon is the closest I’ve come to meeting this goal. There
are still times when Frank slips into cringe-worthy clichés—such as Randy’s
sister-in-law, Helen, momentarily becoming obsessed with Randy as a replacement
for her husband, and Randy’s later appraisal that women cannot be relied upon
to think for themselves some times,
“The more he learned about women the more there was to learn except that he had learned this: they needed a man around.”
but prior to this
incident, Helen Bragg was a remarkably outstanding pillar of control and
support. Randy’s girlfriend is portrayed as independent and free-thinking. The
elderly female neighbors are hardy and independent as well, and even Randy’s
eleven-year-old niece has a moment of determined brilliance when she takes the
initiative to provide for her new community, comptently, I might add. But it
was the most jarring revelation—that, as a result of The Day, the only
remaining official left to hold the office of President is a woman, and Fort
Repose accepts this with little argument—that made me question whether Pat Frank
was a pseudonym for Patricia. (It’s not, remarkably.)
One of the aspects of fifties and sixties science fiction
that I have come to realize, regrettably, is that there are few characters with
standout personalities. The same can be said here, as Alas, Babylon, was a very perfunctory story, without much zest in
the characterization department. That said, I did like Frank’s style of
writing, particularly when he ramped it up for the end of chapters. This was
not a book I read in one sitting, but I was okay with that, because the way
every chapter ended was so poised that it left me with something to think about
for hours afterwards, until I had the opportunity to resume reading.
It’s fitting that I concluded my ‘Apocalypse Month’ with a
book that actually went to the brink, with finality and solemnity. It felt like a good
way to cap off my month of living on the verge of destruction, and I already
can’t wait to see what the next one will be like.
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