[NOTE: Wrote this appreciative piece on Asimov, in an Asimov-would-have-approved-if-alive style for a school assignment. It is the least esoteric and whimsical of my writings for obvious (and aforementioned) reasons. Also, it misses out on a lot of his other important works like the Bailey trilogy and End of Eternity. Just overlook and read on...]
"Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right."
In an era when science fiction writing was confined to pathos-intended robot stories, antagonistic tales of rebelling humanoids and daunting visions of robot-invasions being penned by authors grappling with a genre in its infancy, Isaac Asimov truly stood apart with his assemblage of short stories and novels, written over an illustrious career spanning more than 50 years.
Many admirers describe Asimov’s vast body of work as highly instrumental in chiseling out science fiction writing as a viable and exciting genre for daring authors, making him probably the only writer in the field to have achieved the same stature as HG Wells, who, for all practical reasons, ‘invented’ the genre itself. Just as Shakespeare contributed to English language by adding more than a thousand words to it, (‘advertising, ‘submerge’ and ‘outbreak’ to name a few), Asimov’s contribution to scientific vocabulary was coining the word ‘robotics’ and using it for the first time in his works. ‘Robotics’ as a scientific term continues to be a part of common parlance in our times.
Counting the feathers in an individual’s cap in not enough; I must take it on myself to explain why and how each and every last one of them landed in his cap. What is it that makes Asimov’s body of work so seminal in the light of contemporary times and advancements? What exactly makes him the Grandmaster of Science Fiction and no less?
With sharp wit and warm, seamless and simplistic use of language by his side, Asimov creates a peeping hole into the very heart of human consciousness, rightfully promulgating in his exemplary writings that there is hope in the bleakest, darkest corners of the world (correction, the universe!) as long as human will and wit remains intact. In many of his short episodic stories in the Foundation series, the seemingly inevitable perils that threaten to wipe out humanity from the universe are sidestepped and evaded by the unexpectedly simple use of uncommon common sense by one or more of the unlikely protagonists that Asimov created. After having read most of the short stories penned by him, I find them to be akin to detective conundrums, waiting to be cracked by the readers before the author spills the beans.
In fact Asimov did dabble briefly in detective fiction in his short-story series ‘Black Widowers’, wherein a group of laid-back armchair intellectuals invite a unique guest over for a homely dinner, and question them for any unexplained or out-of-the-ordinary event that might have taken place in their lives, usually resulting in the affirmative, going on to clear the air by eliminating implausible explanations by way of rigorous, logical in-arguments.
Another commendable truth about Asimov’s writings is his choice of characters that go on to be protagonist. In most of his works, especially the Foundation series, the archetypical ‘hero’ (or ‘heroine’) of the narrative is usually someone very resolute on a few binding principles and ideals, which he or she puts to practical use in the final phase of the story by acting on them when they seem the least likely to be upheld in the seriousness of the situation. For example, one of the initial central characters in the Foundation Saga, Salvor Hardin, (under whose name Asimov wrote the introductory quotation with which I began the article) abides by a handful of axioms that govern his actions, even though the reader is on the brink of believing that conforming to them would not yield any desirable outcome. In this fashion, Asimov loves to chalk out the boundaries for his characters’ field of play, and plays them out according to these guiding set of ‘sensibilities’, which I think would have been as much fun to him to write as they are for the readers to read.
It would be criminally unjust on my part if I leave out Asimov’s Robot stories out of the scope of the article, for ‘Robot-fiction’ is not just incomplete, but ill-formed without keeping in view the Grandmaster’s works on the topic. Asimov’s love for machines transcended more than hundreds of his short stories and novels, so much so that it is very surprising as to why there is minimal robotic action in the whole of Foundation series (except for Prelude to Foundation, which is a sort-of bridge to his earlier works on Robot-Human love-hate relationships). ‘I,Robot’, another of his pivotal short works on the genre essentially comprises stories of human interaction with experimental robots, and how robotics as a scientific discipline graduates from infancy to adulthood under the able watchfulness of the many brilliant scientists who act as protagonists of the narratives. While developing robots, Asimov employed the use of the celebrated (albeit fictitious) Three Laws of Robotics, which are as follows:
“I made up my mind long ago to follow one cardinal rule in all my writing—to be clear. I have given up all thought of writing poetically or symbolically or experimentally, or in any of the other modes that might (if I were good enough) get me a Pulitzer prize. I would write merely clearly and in this way establish a warm relationship between myself and my readers, and the professional critics—Well, they can do whatever they wish.”
"Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right."
In an era when science fiction writing was confined to pathos-intended robot stories, antagonistic tales of rebelling humanoids and daunting visions of robot-invasions being penned by authors grappling with a genre in its infancy, Isaac Asimov truly stood apart with his assemblage of short stories and novels, written over an illustrious career spanning more than 50 years.
Many admirers describe Asimov’s vast body of work as highly instrumental in chiseling out science fiction writing as a viable and exciting genre for daring authors, making him probably the only writer in the field to have achieved the same stature as HG Wells, who, for all practical reasons, ‘invented’ the genre itself. Just as Shakespeare contributed to English language by adding more than a thousand words to it, (‘advertising, ‘submerge’ and ‘outbreak’ to name a few), Asimov’s contribution to scientific vocabulary was coining the word ‘robotics’ and using it for the first time in his works. ‘Robotics’ as a scientific term continues to be a part of common parlance in our times.
Counting the feathers in an individual’s cap in not enough; I must take it on myself to explain why and how each and every last one of them landed in his cap. What is it that makes Asimov’s body of work so seminal in the light of contemporary times and advancements? What exactly makes him the Grandmaster of Science Fiction and no less?
Let me start by naming
my favorite and most-read work of Asimov, of which I shall be talking the most
in the following paragraphs: The Foundation Series. The Foundation saga
comprises seven episodic novels telling the story of an adventurous odyssey of
scientists on a mission to reduce the period of imminent ruination facing an
Intergalactic Empire in a distant future, by following a path lighted by their
‘prescient’ mentor-scientist, Hari Seldon. The saga deals with a variety of
themes and attempts to raise very fundamental questions pertaining to human
emotion, action and limited human understanding of the universe through the
medium of science fiction. What is truly remarkable of Asimov’s Foundation is
that he takes enthralling science fiction storytelling devices (which make up
for today’s staples in the genre) and effortlessly intertwines them with what
we know as his sprawling, rip-roaringly individual ‘voice’: the light-hearted
reflection of basic, unadulterated humanity found in the most unlikely of
places.
With sharp wit and warm, seamless and simplistic use of language by his side, Asimov creates a peeping hole into the very heart of human consciousness, rightfully promulgating in his exemplary writings that there is hope in the bleakest, darkest corners of the world (correction, the universe!) as long as human will and wit remains intact. In many of his short episodic stories in the Foundation series, the seemingly inevitable perils that threaten to wipe out humanity from the universe are sidestepped and evaded by the unexpectedly simple use of uncommon common sense by one or more of the unlikely protagonists that Asimov created. After having read most of the short stories penned by him, I find them to be akin to detective conundrums, waiting to be cracked by the readers before the author spills the beans.
In fact Asimov did dabble briefly in detective fiction in his short-story series ‘Black Widowers’, wherein a group of laid-back armchair intellectuals invite a unique guest over for a homely dinner, and question them for any unexplained or out-of-the-ordinary event that might have taken place in their lives, usually resulting in the affirmative, going on to clear the air by eliminating implausible explanations by way of rigorous, logical in-arguments.
Another commendable truth about Asimov’s writings is his choice of characters that go on to be protagonist. In most of his works, especially the Foundation series, the archetypical ‘hero’ (or ‘heroine’) of the narrative is usually someone very resolute on a few binding principles and ideals, which he or she puts to practical use in the final phase of the story by acting on them when they seem the least likely to be upheld in the seriousness of the situation. For example, one of the initial central characters in the Foundation Saga, Salvor Hardin, (under whose name Asimov wrote the introductory quotation with which I began the article) abides by a handful of axioms that govern his actions, even though the reader is on the brink of believing that conforming to them would not yield any desirable outcome. In this fashion, Asimov loves to chalk out the boundaries for his characters’ field of play, and plays them out according to these guiding set of ‘sensibilities’, which I think would have been as much fun to him to write as they are for the readers to read.
It would be criminally unjust on my part if I leave out Asimov’s Robot stories out of the scope of the article, for ‘Robot-fiction’ is not just incomplete, but ill-formed without keeping in view the Grandmaster’s works on the topic. Asimov’s love for machines transcended more than hundreds of his short stories and novels, so much so that it is very surprising as to why there is minimal robotic action in the whole of Foundation series (except for Prelude to Foundation, which is a sort-of bridge to his earlier works on Robot-Human love-hate relationships). ‘I,Robot’, another of his pivotal short works on the genre essentially comprises stories of human interaction with experimental robots, and how robotics as a scientific discipline graduates from infancy to adulthood under the able watchfulness of the many brilliant scientists who act as protagonists of the narratives. While developing robots, Asimov employed the use of the celebrated (albeit fictitious) Three Laws of Robotics, which are as follows:
- A robot may not injure a human being or,
through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
- A robot must obey the orders given to it
by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First
Law.
- A robot must protect its own existence as
long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.
The stories revolve
around the minute logical fallacies ingrained in the apparently flawless Three
Laws, and how scientific forerunners think of a way around the laws to wire the
robots in a manner conducive to human society, and not otherwise. Again, it is
to be underlined that the stories have a very basic logical and rational
premise; almost in the same way as real-life scientist would approach real-life
problems. It is in this realistic, minimalistic and clear writing that Asimov
succeeds, and succeeds big time.
What truly
distinguishes Isaac Asimov’s writings from those that came before, after or in
his time is not in ‘how’ he wrote, but ‘what’ he wrote. Most authors of yore such as Shakespeare,
Dickens and Hawthorne have made their expressive writing their mainstay, their
claim to fame. However, in Asimov’s case, it was his own belief that minimal
ornamentation and embellishment is required in writing if the content is solid
enough. My admiration for his writing springs from this very feature of them:
high ideas are packaged in the neatest and simplest of words, minus the
ostentation of big words and flowery expression. If not from his word, one may
surely and safely conclude from his prolific works that there was much more
than a little truth in what he meant when he said the following words:-
“I made up my mind long ago to follow one cardinal rule in all my writing—to be clear. I have given up all thought of writing poetically or symbolically or experimentally, or in any of the other modes that might (if I were good enough) get me a Pulitzer prize. I would write merely clearly and in this way establish a warm relationship between myself and my readers, and the professional critics—Well, they can do whatever they wish.”
