Cities in Flight

Chris recognized the term, from his force-feeding in Spengler. It denoted a scholar who could look at any culture at any stage in its development, relate it to all other cultures at similar stages, and come up with specific predictions of how these people would react to a given proposal or event. …

Spengler never uses the term “cultural morphologist,” and he would surely never have imagined that his work could be put to any such narrow uses. If a culture is an organism, you can make for a culture predictions of the kind that can be made for any organism: e.g., that a baby boy will become a man, not a woman or a horse, and that, barring accidents, the man will pass through middle age to old age and death. To be sure, the more information you have, the more particular you can be in your predictions, but obviously there are limits beyond which you cannot go. Indeed, that there are such limits in anything and everything is perhaps the most fundamental idea of Spengler. As a matter of fact, the cultural morphologists of CITIES IN FLIGHT never actually practice their trade: the various “cultures” with which the heroes deal are never presented with enough fullness to allow for any kind of Spenglerian assessment; the various stories turn on coincidence or on individual psychology and would not be essentially different if explicit references to cultural morphology were entirely eliminated—which could be done by deleting a handful of sentences.

Although some of the inconsistencies in CITIES IN FLIGHT surely result from authorial forgetfulness, they are too numerous and too prominent to be regarded as anything other than an essential feature of the overall story. Since point of view is rigidly controlled throughout the work, every statement can be attributed to one or another of the various characters. Given this fact, we can make sense of the tetralogy by regarding it, not as a fiction in which a universe has been created by an omniscient, omnipotent author, but as historical narrative with a large admixture of myth; that is, by assuming that behind the sometimes accurate, sometimes erroneous, sometimes mythical narrative there is an actual history.

Thus, the first volume of CITIES IN FLIGHT gives us an intelligently Spenglerian view of the near future, and the other three, albeit very sketchily, the life story of a Spenglerian culture. In comparison with most science-fiction novels and series, CITIES IN FLIGHT is a very rich work indeed.

1. Blish’s Twenty-First Century: The Coming of Caesarism

In the first volume, although the term is not used there, MacHinery is a successful practitioner of what Spengler describes as Caesarism [II, 431-35]. Dr. Corsi’s reasons for believing that “scientific method doesn’t work any more”, although not expressed in Spenglerian terms, are thoroughly consistent with Spengler’s discussion of “conclusive” scientific thought [I, 417-28]. The volume also devotes some space to an adventist religious movement, the Believers, which seems to be a product of that “second religiousness” among the masses which Spengler considers an inevitable concomitant of Caesarism [II, 310-11, 435]. Finally, although Helmuth is wrong about the pyramids, he is correctly Spenglerian in regarding giganticism as evidence that a culture is dead [I, 291-95], and his remark on the Martian canali is certainly, on the part of Mr. Blish, a brilliant Spenglerian touch . All in all, then, the first volume of CITIES IN FLIGHT is a thoroughly Spenglerian work.

2. Blish’s Twenty-First Century: Two Cultures or One?

In Blish’s universe “historians generally agree that the fall of the West must be dated no later than the year 2105”. They also agree in regarding the great conflict of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, that between the “West” and the communist alliance (later called the Bureaucratic State), as a conflict between “rival cultures”.

It is true that Spengler distinguished between the Russian soul and the Western:

The death-impulse … for the West is the passion of drive all-ways into infinite space, whereas for Russians it is an expressing and expanding of self till “it” in the man becomes identical with the boundless plain itself …. The idea of a Russian’s being an astronomer! He does not see the stars at all, he sees only the horizon. Instead of the vault he sees the down-hang of the heavens—something that somewhere combines with the plain to form the horizon. For him the Copernican system … is spiritually contemptible. [II, 295n]

We find a similar passage in The Milky Way: Five Cultural Portraits: