Hal Bregg, Chefpilot des Raumschiffs Prometheus, kehrt von einer Fahrt zum 23 Lichtjahre entfernten Stern Formalhaut zurück, Zehn Bordjahre hat diese Reise gedauert - zehn Bordjahre bedeuten 123 Erdenjahre, und so finden die Überlebenden der verlustreichen Expedition eine völlig veränderte Erde vor. Die Technik hat sich rapide fortentwickelt. Die Städte sind mit äußerster Raffinesse neu erbaut. Die Verkehrssysteme sind nicht wieder zu erkennen. Alles ist aus Plastik. Das Essen wird synthetisch hergestellt, die Arbeit von Robotern verrichtet. Die Menschen leben nahezu kostenlos in unendlichem Wohlstand. Vor allem aber befinden sie sich in tiefstem Frieden aufgrund einer Behandlung, die schon den Kleinkindern jeden Aggressionstrieb? nimmt. Nur mühsam findet sieh Hal Bregg in dieser neuen Welt zu Recht, die auch Expeditionen ins weile Universum für sinnlos hält. Noch einmal entflieht er zu seinen Kameraden, die Vorbereitungen für ihre nächste Weltraumfahrt treffen. Aber Hai macht nicht mit. Nächtens steigt er auf den Berg neben der neuen Universitätsstadt und erkennt im Morgengrauen, dass er seine Heimat wieder gefunden hat.

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You can't go home again - or can you? wiredweird Y-m-d H:i:s This is a relatively contemplative work by Lem - he saved his blatant humor for other works. Instead, it's a relatively sober story about how thoroughly isolated one can be, even in the midst of a crowd. The "one" in this case is Bregg, an astronaut returned from an interstellar misson. Perhaps he never hoped to be a hero upon return, but it never occurred to him that no one would care. In the hundred-plus years since his departure, humankind had remodeled itself into a people that could not understand why anyone would venture into space, after an era in which such trips were declared pointless expenses. The returning voyagers are welcomed by their gentle hosts, but largely ignored. The first part of Lem's story imagines Bregg's utter disorientation in the physical world, filled with unfamiliar words, sounds, and sights; where even a wall isn't necessarily a wall. He's intelligent and adaptable, so moves on to the second level of disorientation: simply having no idea how to have a conversation when so very few concepts or values are shared. This isolation appears most clearly in his attempts at inimacy. Betrization, the process that made this world the gentle idyll that it is, makes him seem like a ravenous beast to the generation around him, an object of fear no matter what he does or says. The danger inherent in his un-betrizated state appeals to some, of course, but it's an appeal that Bregg does not want to hold. After a time, he finds a woman of this brave new world that can accept him. Then, the deepest level of his isolation surrounds him: he simplay has no place in this society. There is no need for his skills, no interest in the heroism and tragedy of his star travel, and no job that he's competent to do. One or two personal ties are simply not enough to anchor him in this alien place. The very end has a different tone, one that I'll let you discover for yourself - I'll just say that I found it worth the wait. The trip there passes through Lem's evocative writing, including a poetic moment describing the peace and permanence to be found in studying mathematics: "New roads arise, but the old ones lead on. They do not become overgrown." There's also an oddly prescient desciption of Emil Mitke, "... a crippled genius who did with the theory of relativity what Einstein had done with Newton." Back when this book was written, there was no way to forsee Stephen Hawking, today's asymmetric icon of scientific brilliance. This might not be the best intro for someone new to Lem. I'd recommend his lighter writing to start with. Still, it's a good one. link:http://www.amazon.com/review/R3PUFFG4N4ZOYJ/r ef=cm_cr_rdp_perm Antworten 0 0

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