By Walter M. Miller Jr.
Walter M. Miller's acclaimed SF vintage A Canticle for Leibowitz opens with the unintended excavation of a holy artifact: a creased, brittle memo scrawled via the hand of the blessed Saint Leibowitz, that reads: "Pound pastrami, can kraut, six bagels--bring domestic for Emma." To the Brothers of Saint Leibowitz, this sacred purchasing checklist penned via an imprecise, 20th-century engineer is an emblem of desire from the far-off earlier, from ahead of the Simplification, the fiery atomic holocaust that plunged the earth into darkness and lack of knowledge. As 1984 suggested opposed to Stalinism, so 1959's A Canticle for Leibowitz warns of the chance and implications of nuclear annihilation. Following a cloister of clergymen of their Utah abbey over a few six or 700 years, the humorous yet bleak Canticle tackles the sociological and spiritual implications of the cyclical upward thrust and fall of civilization, wondering no matter if humanity can wish for greater than repeating its personal background. Divided into 3 sections--Fiat Homo (Let There Be Man), Fiat Lux (Let There Be Light), and Fiat Voluntas Tua (Thy might be Done)--Canticle is steeped in Catholicism and Latin, exploring the attention-grabbing, probably capricious technique of how and why somebody is canonized. --Paul Hughes
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Extra info for A Canticle for Leibowitz
As if that silly movie ever slowed any of your carnosaur offspring for a minute. ” “Of course they don’t. ” Sharon shook her head. “And don’t blame me! ” Dvorak considered that for a moment, seeking a proper rejoinder. None came to him, so he contented himself with sticking out his tongue and making a rude noise. Then he kissed her cheek quickly, gave her another squeeze, and headed out to the waiting pickup. ” “I’ll have you know,” Dave Dvorak told his brother-in-law, Rob Wilson, severely, “that I am the master of my household.
Like the ship commander, he found it difficult to conceive of any species stupid enough to continue consuming irreplaceable resources in hydrocarbon-based power generation if it no longer had to. That didn’t mean such a species couldn’t exist, however. Alien races could do incredibly stupid things—one had only to look at the pathetic excuses for civilizations some of the weed-eaters had erected to realize that was true! Ahzmer simply didn’t want to admit it was possible in this case, even to himself, because if this genuinely was a Level Two civilization it would be forever off-limits for colonization.
Not over simple political disagreements, perhaps, and nothing remotely as bad as this, but when herds were faced with starvation conditions and forced to fight for range, they were capable of some pretty horrific actions. ” “And then there’s the Shongairi,” Garsul pointed out. A symphony of scowls greeted the remark, and he shrugged his upper shoulders. “I’m just saying these creatures at least have the excuse of their social and technical primitivism. . twisted, you know. . ” The xenoanthropologist’s distaste for the near-obscene term was evident.
A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr.