| The Demolished Man by Alfred Bester |
Reviewed by Ted Gioia
Imagine a world without murder. Then use it as
the setting for a murder mystery.
That's the challenge Alfred
Bester sets himself in his
unconventional cult classic
The Demolished Man, the
1953 novel that was the
first winner of Hugo Award.
The book is an oddity—half
science fiction and half
detective story, mixing in
generous doses of the police
procedural genre while antici-
pating elements that would
come to the fore in later
cyberpunk lit. With its
fast pace and campy atmospherics, the book also
reminds us that Bester made his living writing for
comic books, radio and television.
The Demolished Man is set in the world of the year
2301, when police have an easy time of it. No
successful premeditated murder has been com-
mitted in 79 years. The existence of a cadre of
mind-readers—known as "Espers"—make it
impossible to hide criminal intent from the
authorities. A murderer will either be stopped
before the crime is even committed, or apprehend-
ed immediately afterwards. In such a world, the
clichéd phrase about "getting away with murder"
has become a pure metaphor, describing a state
of affairs that could never occur in the real world.
In this environment, Ben Reich is caught up in a
heated conflict with his business rival Craye
D'Courtney, owner of D’Courtney Cartel. Reich's
firm, Monarch Industries, is on the verge of
bankruptcy, and he feels rebuffed in his attempts
to propose a merger. In anger and desperation, he
decides to kill D’Courtney.
Okay, Bester doesn’t go in for subtlety—already
we have a Reich and Monarch going up against a
Cartel. You’ll hardly be surprised to learn that
the hero detective in this book is named Lincoln
—Lincoln Powell, a Class 1 Esper and Prefect of
the Psychotic Division of the police. In case some
readers miss the presidential allusion, Lincoln
sometimes falls into a habit of telling outlandish
tall tales—taking on an alternate persona, one that
the policeman himself calls "Dishonest Abe."
Mr. Reich needs some expert help if he is to plan
and execute a murder without coming to Powell's
attention. He enlists the support of Gus Tate,
another Class 1 Esper and psychiatrist who is a
renegade among the mind-readers. When he is
around Reich, Tate can block the efforts of other
Espers, and can also snoop around in surrounding
minds in order to assist in the plotting and
execution of the crime. But Reich also needs some
way of stopping the brain peepers when Tate is not
on hand—and here he relies on an inane musical
jingle, one of those maddening tunes you can’t get
out of your head.
Tenser, said the Tensor.
Tenser, said the Tensor.
Tension, apprehension,
And dissension have begun….
Bester no doubt wanted lyrics whose sheer inanity
would keep mind-readers at bay. Too bad he
didn't know about Rebecca Black’s "Friday"…
With these peculiar supports, Reich is prepared to
kill his adversary. He makes his move at a
fashionable party, but the assault is observed by a
young woman, D'Courtney’s daughter, who runs
away from the scene of the crime. Now Lincoln
Powell and Ben Reich are caught up in a race to
find the missing eyewitness. The action is en-
livened by the some jive James Bond-ish gadgetry
—flash grenades that destroy the retinas of
unfortunate on-lookers, harmonic guns that kill
with soundwaves, etc.
The book is zany, and moves ahead with the brash
momentum of a superhero comic book. But
Bester tries to impart some psychological gravitas
through generous doses of Freudian concepts and
plenty of psychiatric jargon. Even the punishment
for serious crimes draws on a therapeutic
worldview—instead of the electric chair, the legal
authorities of the year 2301 rely on 'demolition,'
in which the offender’s personality and memories
are extracted, leaving behind a new substratum for
healthy re-education. Indeed, Bester’s original title
for the story was Demolition!, and he only switched
to The Demolished Man at the urging of editor
H.L. Gold.
Many readers will find this story maddening and
unsatisfying. Josh Wimmer has cited The
Demolished Man as an evidence for why highbrow
literary types look down on sci-fi—not without
some justification. "Science fiction was ghettoized
for a long time because at first, it deserved to be,"
he argues, and compares the implausibility of
Bester's story with Ernest Hemingway’s The Old
Man and the Sea, which won the Pulitzer the same
year The Demolished Man took the Hugo. The
comparison may be a bit unfair—Hemingway
never set a novel in the 24th century—but even
fans of Bester's work can hardly avoid recognizing
the slapdash quality that permeates the novel. Nor
does the use of reheated psychobabble serve as an
adequate substitute for real psychological depth in
Bester’s characters.
No, this is not great literature. That said, the
madcap energy of this book can’t be denied. And
the concept itself of a man plotting the perfect
murder in an age when premeditated crimes have
been eradicated is a thought-provoking one. I’m
not surprised that, a few years later, Philip K. Dick
—and later Steven Spielberg—drew on a similar
concept for Minority Report. Bester never quite
freed himself from the pulp fiction and TV script
formulas that cast a long shadow over most genre
works of the era, but he was a master of these very
same recipes. As a result, anyone wanting to
understand why action-packed genre tales had
such a large following during the middle decades
of the 20th century could hardly do better than to
make the acquaintance of this author and his most
famous novel.
Ted Gioia's latest book is The Birth (and Death) of
the Cool.
Imagine a world without murder. Then use it as
the setting for a murder mystery.
That's the challenge Alfred
Bester sets himself in his
unconventional cult classic
The Demolished Man, the
1953 novel that was the
first winner of Hugo Award.
The book is an oddity—half
science fiction and half
detective story, mixing in
generous doses of the police
procedural genre while antici-
pating elements that would
come to the fore in later
cyberpunk lit. With its
fast pace and campy atmospherics, the book also
reminds us that Bester made his living writing for
comic books, radio and television.
The Demolished Man is set in the world of the year
2301, when police have an easy time of it. No
successful premeditated murder has been com-
mitted in 79 years. The existence of a cadre of
mind-readers—known as "Espers"—make it
impossible to hide criminal intent from the
authorities. A murderer will either be stopped
before the crime is even committed, or apprehend-
ed immediately afterwards. In such a world, the
clichéd phrase about "getting away with murder"
has become a pure metaphor, describing a state
of affairs that could never occur in the real world.
In this environment, Ben Reich is caught up in a
heated conflict with his business rival Craye
D'Courtney, owner of D’Courtney Cartel. Reich's
firm, Monarch Industries, is on the verge of
bankruptcy, and he feels rebuffed in his attempts
to propose a merger. In anger and desperation, he
decides to kill D’Courtney.
Okay, Bester doesn’t go in for subtlety—already
we have a Reich and Monarch going up against a
Cartel. You’ll hardly be surprised to learn that
the hero detective in this book is named Lincoln
—Lincoln Powell, a Class 1 Esper and Prefect of
the Psychotic Division of the police. In case some
readers miss the presidential allusion, Lincoln
sometimes falls into a habit of telling outlandish
tall tales—taking on an alternate persona, one that
the policeman himself calls "Dishonest Abe."
Mr. Reich needs some expert help if he is to plan
and execute a murder without coming to Powell's
attention. He enlists the support of Gus Tate,
another Class 1 Esper and psychiatrist who is a
renegade among the mind-readers. When he is
around Reich, Tate can block the efforts of other
Espers, and can also snoop around in surrounding
minds in order to assist in the plotting and
execution of the crime. But Reich also needs some
way of stopping the brain peepers when Tate is not
on hand—and here he relies on an inane musical
jingle, one of those maddening tunes you can’t get
out of your head.
Tenser, said the Tensor.
Tenser, said the Tensor.
Tension, apprehension,
And dissension have begun….
Bester no doubt wanted lyrics whose sheer inanity
would keep mind-readers at bay. Too bad he
didn't know about Rebecca Black’s "Friday"…
With these peculiar supports, Reich is prepared to
kill his adversary. He makes his move at a
fashionable party, but the assault is observed by a
young woman, D'Courtney’s daughter, who runs
away from the scene of the crime. Now Lincoln
Powell and Ben Reich are caught up in a race to
find the missing eyewitness. The action is en-
livened by the some jive James Bond-ish gadgetry
—flash grenades that destroy the retinas of
unfortunate on-lookers, harmonic guns that kill
with soundwaves, etc.
The book is zany, and moves ahead with the brash
momentum of a superhero comic book. But
Bester tries to impart some psychological gravitas
through generous doses of Freudian concepts and
plenty of psychiatric jargon. Even the punishment
for serious crimes draws on a therapeutic
worldview—instead of the electric chair, the legal
authorities of the year 2301 rely on 'demolition,'
in which the offender’s personality and memories
are extracted, leaving behind a new substratum for
healthy re-education. Indeed, Bester’s original title
for the story was Demolition!, and he only switched
to The Demolished Man at the urging of editor
H.L. Gold.
Many readers will find this story maddening and
unsatisfying. Josh Wimmer has cited The
Demolished Man as an evidence for why highbrow
literary types look down on sci-fi—not without
some justification. "Science fiction was ghettoized
for a long time because at first, it deserved to be,"
he argues, and compares the implausibility of
Bester's story with Ernest Hemingway’s The Old
Man and the Sea, which won the Pulitzer the same
year The Demolished Man took the Hugo. The
comparison may be a bit unfair—Hemingway
never set a novel in the 24th century—but even
fans of Bester's work can hardly avoid recognizing
the slapdash quality that permeates the novel. Nor
does the use of reheated psychobabble serve as an
adequate substitute for real psychological depth in
Bester’s characters.
No, this is not great literature. That said, the
madcap energy of this book can’t be denied. And
the concept itself of a man plotting the perfect
murder in an age when premeditated crimes have
been eradicated is a thought-provoking one. I’m
not surprised that, a few years later, Philip K. Dick
—and later Steven Spielberg—drew on a similar
concept for Minority Report. Bester never quite
freed himself from the pulp fiction and TV script
formulas that cast a long shadow over most genre
works of the era, but he was a master of these very
same recipes. As a result, anyone wanting to
understand why action-packed genre tales had
such a large following during the middle decades
of the 20th century could hardly do better than to
make the acquaintance of this author and his most
famous novel.
Ted Gioia's latest book is The Birth (and Death) of
the Cool.
Visit our companion sites
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A guide to outstanding works of
fiction published since 1985
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Celebrating masterworks of science
fiction, fantasy, alternate history and
magical realism
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A look at contemporary currents in
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A guide to outstanding works of
fiction published since 1985
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magical realism
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A look at contemporary currents in
literature
| New Angles on an Old Genre |
| Postmodern Mystery |
| Postmodern Mystery is a web site devoted to experimental, unconventional and postmodern approaches to stories of mystery and suspense |
Alfred Bester turned his back on the law at
an early age—dropping out of Columbia
Law School and embracing genre literature
in his mid-20s. He won a
competition, which led to
the publication of his first
story, "The Broken Axiom"
in Thrilling Wonder Stories in
1939. During the 1940s,
Bester wrote for pulp fiction
periodicals, comic books and
newspaper comic strips, and
contributed story lines to
Superman, The Phantom, Mandrake the
Magician and the Green Lantern. Bester is
believed be the originator of the Green
Lantern's oath ("In brightest day, in blackest
night, no evil shall escape my sight…" etc.
etc. ). After World War II, he earned a
living as scriptwriter for radio and later
television. He is best known today for his
science fiction work from the mid-1950s,
especially The Demolished Man, winner of the
first Hugo Award for best novel in 1953,
and The Stars My Destination (1956). He
published little fiction in later years, and at
his death in 1987 he left all of his
possessions to his bartender.
an early age—dropping out of Columbia
Law School and embracing genre literature
in his mid-20s. He won a
competition, which led to
the publication of his first
story, "The Broken Axiom"
in Thrilling Wonder Stories in
1939. During the 1940s,
Bester wrote for pulp fiction
periodicals, comic books and
newspaper comic strips, and
contributed story lines to
Superman, The Phantom, Mandrake the
Magician and the Green Lantern. Bester is
believed be the originator of the Green
Lantern's oath ("In brightest day, in blackest
night, no evil shall escape my sight…" etc.
etc. ). After World War II, he earned a
living as scriptwriter for radio and later
television. He is best known today for his
science fiction work from the mid-1950s,
especially The Demolished Man, winner of the
first Hugo Award for best novel in 1953,
and The Stars My Destination (1956). He
published little fiction in later years, and at
his death in 1987 he left all of his
possessions to his bartender.
| ROGUES GALLERY: ALFRED BESTER |
Further Clues:
The First Hugo Winner Probably Deserves the Ghetto
Why Do Critics Still Sneer at Sci-Fi?
The Demolished Man reviewed by Todd Richmond
The Demolished Man Facebook Page
| Follow Ted Gioia on Twitter at www.twitter.com/tedgioia |
| Click on image to purchase |
Recommended Sites:
Conceptual Fiction
Great Books Guide
The New Canon
Ted Gioia's homepage
Ted Gioia (on Twitter)
American Fiction Notes
The Art of Reading
The Big Read
Blographia Literaria
Books, Inq.
Bookslut
Booksquare
A Commonplace Blog
Conversational Reading
Crimespree Magazine
Critical Mass
Dana Gioia
The Elegant Variation
Fictionaut
In Search of the Classic Mystery
Joseph Peschel
Light Reading
The Literary Saloon
Los Angeles Review of Books
Maud Newton
The Millions
The Misread City
Mystery Fanfare
The Neglected Books Page
Nota Bene Books
Open Letters Monthly
Readerville
The Reading Experience
Reviews and Responses
Tipping My Fedora
Waggish
Conceptual Fiction
Great Books Guide
The New Canon
Ted Gioia's homepage
Ted Gioia (on Twitter)
American Fiction Notes
The Art of Reading
The Big Read
Blographia Literaria
Books, Inq.
Bookslut
Booksquare
A Commonplace Blog
Conversational Reading
Crimespree Magazine
Critical Mass
Dana Gioia
The Elegant Variation
Fictionaut
In Search of the Classic Mystery
Joseph Peschel
Light Reading
The Literary Saloon
Los Angeles Review of Books
Maud Newton
The Millions
The Misread City
Mystery Fanfare
The Neglected Books Page
Nota Bene Books
Open Letters Monthly
Readerville
The Reading Experience
Reviews and Responses
Tipping My Fedora
Waggish