In the vibrant literary landscape of the 2nd Century A.D., a period often perceived as distant from modern narrative conventions, a groundbreaking work emerged that defied categorization. Remarkably, more than 80 satirical stories by this prolific author, Lucian of Samosata, have survived, attesting to his enduring popularity. Among these, one text, in particular, stands out: A True Story, which is widely considered to be the earliest known science fiction book. As was discussed in the accompanying video, this ancient narrative features elements strikingly similar to today’s popular space operas, including interstellar travel, alien encounters, and epic cosmic battles, all conceived in an era of wooden ships and horse-drawn chariots.
The genesis of this work is deeply rooted in Lucian’s keen observational skills and his biting wit. Lucian of Samosata, a renowned ancient Greek satirist, was celebrated for his exaggerated humor and his willingness to ridicule societal norms, religious beliefs, and even prominent political figures. His narratives were crafted to appeal specifically to the educated upper class of Greece, his primary readership. Consequently, the nuanced, referential humor and cultural critiques embedded within his stories often prove challenging for contemporary readers to fully appreciate, given the nearly 2,000-year historical and cultural remove.
Lucian’s Literary Landscape: Satirizing Ancient Genres
During Lucian’s time, two literary genres dominated the Roman Empire: the travelog and the debate. Travelogs, which were part guidebooks and part personal journals, detailed journeys to distant lands, with authors frequently publishing their findings upon return. However, this genre had become rife with sensationalism, as writers routinely embellished or entirely fabricated discoveries to maintain relevance and secure readership. This practice of presenting outright lies as factual accounts was a particular target of Lucian’s disdain.
Conversely, philosophical and political debates constituted another popular genre, featuring written arguments between esteemed public figures. These often lengthy and highbrow exchanges, Lucian felt, frequently devolved into semantic squabbles over trivial or ultimately unknowable matters. It was against this backdrop of inflated claims and intellectual pretension that Lucian formulated his distinctive satirical approach. His response was to craft a narrative that ingeniously merged the fantastical elements of a travelog with the argumentative spirit of a debate, while explicitly acknowledging its fictionality.
The Meta-Fictional Preface of A True Story
Lucian’s unique meta-fictional approach is immediately apparent from the very first page of A True Story. The author begins by candidly prefacing that the entire book is a work of fiction, a declaration that would have undoubtedly astonished his 2nd-century audience. This open admission starkly contrasted with the prevailing convention of travelogs, which invariably claimed absolute veracity, despite their often fantastical content. Lucian’s critique extended beyond his contemporaries; he directly called out earlier writers like Ctesias and Homer, suggesting they had contributed to the genre’s decline by disseminating embellished tales to a credulous public.
Furthermore, Lucian boldly lamented the “sad state of the genre” and criticized authors whom he believed had “ruined the publishing business” through their fabrications. Despite his frustrations, he humorously conceded his own limitations, admitting that “nothing noteworthy has ever really happened to him either.” This self-deprecating humor culminates in his famous declaration: “I confidently pronounce that truthfully, I lie. I write of matters which I neither saw nor suffered, nor heard by reports from people that I made up… Let no man therefore in any case believe these words.” This extraordinary preface serves not merely as a disclaimer but as an ingenious literary device, challenging the reader’s expectations and setting the stage for a narrative that openly embraces its own untruths.
Charting the Cosmic Journey: From Pillars of Hercules to the Moon
The tale itself commences with Lucian and a crew of 50 men embarking from the Pillars of Hercules, known today as the Strait of Gibraltar, intending to explore the western ocean. Their voyage, initially routine with provisions for a long journey and an expert pilot, quickly veers into the fantastical. After a day and a night, they are engulfed by a “huge and terrifying tempest” that lasts for an astonishing 79 days. On the 80th day, upon discovering an island, a scouting party of 20 men uncovers evidence of Hercules and Dionysus, alongside a peculiar river of wine that intoxicates them, and grapevines strangely shaped like women. These “tree ladies” lure two of the voyagers, who, succumbing to lust, are transformed into trees themselves, highlighting Lucian’s satirical critique of human folly and temptation.
Subsequently, the remaining crew quickly departs the ominous island. By noon, the ship is swept up by a colossal whirlwind, propelling the entire vessel into outer space. For seven days, they sail through the cosmic expanse, catching what they believed to be a “fair wind” (a reflection of ancient understanding of space), until their arrival at the Moon on the eighth day. Here, the narrative truly blossoms into an early science fiction epic. They are immediately intercepted by Hippogypenes, or “vulture dragoons” as some modern translations suggest, who serve as the Moon’s police force, transporting Lucian’s party before King Endymion. This interaction establishes the existence of advanced, organized lunar civilizations and sets the stage for interplanetary conflict.
Interplanetary War and Lunar Oddities
King Endymion, a human who fortunately speaks Greek, extends a warm welcome to Lucian and his companions. Their arrival, however, coincides with a fierce war between the Moon Kingdom and the Sun Kingdom over the colonization of Venus. Endymion had planned to establish a colony on Venus, but the rival King Phaeton had already dispatched his “ant dragoons” to claim the planet, igniting a galactic conflict. Lucian and his men, having “nothing else better to do,” readily agree to join Endymion’s forces, receiving armor and giant vultures as mounts.
The ensuing “epic space battle” is a marvel of ancient imaginative scope. A combined force of 100,000 Moon soldiers and nearly a million galactic allies faces the Sun army. Lucian meticulously details the bizarre combatants: Moon infantry includes “grass plows,” “vulture dragoons,” and archers riding “elephant-sized fleas.” Island-sized spiders are commissioned to weave a massive web in space, functioning as a makeshift battlefield. The Sun army is equally eccentric, comprising dragoons atop 200-foot-long ants, “massive mosquitoes,” men flinging poisoned radishes, “asparagus spears and mushroom shields,” and “puppy corns” from the dog star riding “winged acorns.” Lucian even satirizes poor military management, noting how slingers from the Milky Way failed to appear and cloud centaurs arrived after the battle, eliciting Phaeton’s fiery wrath upon their homeworld—a clear parody of embellished historical accounts. Ultimately, the Moon Kingdom achieves a “glorious victory,” with so much blood flowing that the clouds are “dyed red, as they do when the sun is setting.”
Subsequent to the battle, Lucian and two companions are captured by the tardy cloud centaurs and taken to the Sun, where they meet King Phaeton. A peace treaty is eventually brokered, involving the tearing down of a cloud wall separating the Sun and Moon, the release of prisoners, an agreement not to conquer certain stars, mutual aid in future conflicts, an annual tribute of 10,000 gallons of dew from the Moon to the Sun, and joint colonization of Venus. Released and returned to the Moon, Lucian is offered his ship and crew’s return to Earth, but not before a week of lunar immersion. This period allows Lucian to meticulously describe the Moonnites’ unique physiology and society: they are born of men, with individuals serving as “wife” until age twenty-five and “husband” thereafter, carrying children in their calves. Their diet includes “flying frogs,” and their physical traits are highly unusual, featuring “one toe on each foot,” “honey instead of snot,” “milk instead of sweat,” bellies used as pockets, glass clothes, removable eyes, and leaf ears. A remarkable piece of “technology” also exists on the Moon: a “huge plane of glass hanging over a shallow well” that telecasts events on Earth, an ancient precursor to surveillance technology, further emphasizing the foresight embedded in this early science fiction narrative. Lucian even spies on his family through this device, concluding with a sarcastic challenge to skeptics: “If you think that I am lying, go there yourself, and you will see that I am telling the truth,” a likely jab at his contemporaries.
Descent to Earth and Further Fantastic Voyages
Following their lunar adventures, Lucian and his men embark on their return voyage, guided by the Moon’s royal guard. Their journey back to Earth is no less bizarre, passing through “Lamp Town,” a city inhabited by sentient, floating lamps, each bearing the name of an Earth-bound person. These lamps deliver reports to a magistrate nightly, their flames extinguished if they fail in their duties. Lucian converses with his own lamp, inquiring about his family, before the group, unnerved by the strangeness, quickly departs. They briefly pass “Cloud Cuckoo Town” but are unable to stop due to strong winds.
Upon reaching a “drop off point,” the ship is lowered back to Earth. Their terrestrial journey initially proceeds smoothly, but on the third day, they are attacked by colossal sea monsters and a whale, measuring an astonishing 187 and a half miles long, swallows the entire ship. Inside the whale’s belly, Lucian’s party discovers an entire microcosm: forests, animals, and even civilizations of “fish people” from six warring kingdoms. They endure this subterranean world for nearly two years, becoming embroiled in the “never-ending belly wars.” An escape plan is devised, involving setting the whale’s internal forests on fire, a gruesome method that results in the creature’s death after 13 days. Utilizing beams, they pry open a crack in the whale’s mouth and sail to freedom.
The Island of the Blessed and Satire’s Legacy
The tale, however, continues beyond the whale’s confines. Lucian recounts a 30-day adventure on frozen ice, a hunting expedition on a desert island, a voyage through a “sea of milk,” and an encounter with an island made entirely of cheese. They meet the “cork feet,” who possess the ability to walk on water, before finally reaching the “Island of the Blessed.” This central city functions as a kind of afterlife kingdom, crafted from gold with emerald walls. Here, Lucian encounters veterans of the Trojan War, witnesses celestial court cases, and interacts with historical and philosophical giants like Pythagoras and Homer. He even participates in gossip about figures such as Socrates and Diogenes, with a particularly pointed observation that “Plato was not there. It was said that he was living in an imaginary city under the constitution and laws that he himself wrote,” a clear, witty dig at Plato’s utopian philosophical ideals.
After six months, Lucian’s party is compelled to leave the island following a rebellion sparked by an extramarital affair. Though reluctant to depart, the demigod Rhadamanthus assures Lucian of a future return, even showing him a reserved chair among the gods. Rhadamanthus then guides them to the harbor, pointing out six great islands in the distance and prophesying a long journey full of adventures and encounters with “unfriendly men” before they finally reach their homeland. He bestows upon Lucian a “marshmallow plant,” advising him to pray to it in times of trouble, adding another layer of absurd religious parody. The remaining portion of the book recounts perilous journeys through these six islands, where many men perish. The narrative abruptly concludes with Lucian caught in a violent storm, his ship wrecked, stating, “What happened on that island, I shall tell you in the next book.” This promise, however, was never fulfilled, as evidenced by a disgruntled Greek scholar’s marginal note in a surviving copy: “This is Lucian’s greatest lie of all.” The absence of a sequel, therefore, ironically reinforces Lucian of Samosata’s initial playful declaration of untruthfulness at the very beginning of his groundbreaking work of earliest science fiction.
Probing the Paradox of the Ancient Space Opera
What is *A True Story*?
*A True Story* is a book written in the 2nd Century A.D. by Lucian of Samosata, and it is considered one of the earliest known science fiction stories.
What kind of topics does *A True Story* cover?
The story features elements surprisingly similar to modern space operas, including interstellar travel, encounters with aliens, and epic battles in space.
Who was Lucian of Samosata?
Lucian of Samosata was a renowned ancient Greek satirist known for his sharp wit and for ridiculing the social and literary conventions of his time.
What makes *A True Story* unique for its time?
Unusually for its era, Lucian explicitly states from the very first page that the entire book is a work of fiction, openly satirizing other writers who claimed their fantastical tales were true.
What are some of the fantastic adventures in *A True Story*?
In the tale, Lucian and his crew travel to the Moon, become involved in an interplanetary war between the Moon and Sun, are swallowed by a giant whale, and visit a fantastical afterlife kingdom.