Showing posts with label first science fiction story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label first science fiction story. Show all posts

Sunday, May 17, 2026

This Island Earth

Although some scholars find the roots of science fiction in ancient myths and fantastic poems such as A True Story by Lucian of Samosata, the fact is that science fiction depends on science which did not exist before the Enlightenment of the 18th century. The word “scientist” was invented by William Whewell in a moment of argument with Samuel Taylor Coleridge at a meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science on 24 June 1833. Coleridge insisted that these people did not deserve the title “natural philosophers” and Whewell replied with a parallel to art and artists: “We are scientists.” The first issue of Scientific American was published on 28 August 1845.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is often cited but her own three versions tell only of Victor Frankenstein's explorations of medieval paradigms and the narrator is emphatic in not revealing his methods, lest they be duplicated with inevitably horrible consequences. Nobel laureate Steven Weinberg insisted in To Understand the World, that science depends on experiments which are purposefully unnatural arrangements to isolate the essential distinguishing actions of objects. Considering that thesis, we must grant that Victor Frankenstein pursued science, not mysticism. 


Jules Verne and H. G. Wells are commonly credited as the first narrators of adventures based on new scientific theories and their applications. Prior to them, John Leonard Riddell, chief melter at the New Orleans Mint, and a professor of chemistry at the New Orleans Medical College (which became Tulane University), published Orrin Lindsey's Plan of Aerial Navigation in 1847. Presaging the “golden age” of science fiction before the 1960s, the trip to the Moon is supported by laborious footnotes providing calculations, even for recycling breathable air by the same chemical methods used today. Riddell’s explanation of anti-gravity drive is necessarily sketchy though no more so than our faster-than-light warp drives. At a lecture at Michigan State University about 1976 or so, Gene Roddenberry said that when they need gravity on board a starship, they flip the gravity switch to On. 


In the book and movie, The Right Stuff, a news reporter first asks, “Do you know what makes these birds fly?” and an Air Force pilot starts to say, “Why the aerodynamics alone would take…” and he is cut off. “Funding,” is the reply. “No bucks, no Buck Rogers.” Every pilot at Pancho’s cantina knew exactly what was said. Later, the line is repeated by an astronaut arguing with a NASA administrator: “… and to the American people, we’re Buck Rogers.” 


This Island Earth is a 1955 American science fiction film 

produced by William Alland, directed by Joseph M. Newman 

and Jack Arnold, and starring Jeff Morrow, Faith Domergue, and Rex Reason.

The 1952 novel by [Raymond F.] Jones was originally serialized 

in the science fiction magazine Thrilling Wonder Stories as three 

related novelettes: "The Alien Machine" (June 1949), 

"The Shroud of Secrecy" (December 1949), and "The Greater Conflict"

(February 1950). Jones had taken the novel title from a line
in Robert Graves' 
poem "Darien":

It is a poet's privilege and fate
To fall enamoured of the one Muse
Who variously haunts this island earth

-Wikipedia — https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Island_Earth

This Island Earth (NASA)
one of hundreds of science and
engineering titles de-acquisitioned by
the Astronomical Society of the Pacific.


"This Island Earth. Edited by Oran W. Nicks. NASA SP-250. Washington, D.C.: Scientific and Technical Information Division, Office of Technology Utilization, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1970. x+182 pages. For sale by Superintendent of Documents, $6.00 (Library of Congress Catalog Card no. 73-608969).  Reviewed by Julian R. Goldsmith, University of Chicago, The Journal of Geology, Volume 80 Number 3, May 1972. Also reviewed in Science News, Vol.117, P. 348, 1980, among other citations.


Previously on Necessary Facts


From Texas to the Moon with John Leonard Riddell 

Fantastic Voyages: Teaching Science with Science Fiction 

Monsters from the Id 

Psychohistory from Asimov’s Foundation to Big Data 


Wednesday, August 10, 2022

My Armadillocon Presentations

I attend Armadillocon because it serves writers with workshops and panel discussions and science presentations. As a technical writer, I try to bring the reader into the story. Otherwise, without engagement, they will not follow the plans, policies, or procedures. I try to make technical writing lively by varying the language with synonyms, pacing passive voice into the active for contrast, setting the stage with a strong, meaningful introduction, and including plenty of pictures (each worth 1000 words). 

 

Interior of Lindsay's space "balloon"
by Brad W. Foster for this presentation

Enthralled by Armadillocon 39 (2017), I volunteered to present at the next convention in 2018. At Armadillocon 40, my slideshow was “From Texas to the Moon with John Leonard Riddell.” I proposed Riddell as the first working scientist to publish a science fiction story. Orrin Lindsay’s Plan of Aerial Navigation, with a Narrative of His Explorations in the Higher Regions of the Atmosphere, and His Wonderful Voyage Round the Moon! (Rea's Power Press, New Orleans, 1847). Riddell taught chemistry at the Louisiana Medical College (later Tulane University) and while there he invented the binocular microscope. Because Riddell also served as the chief melter of the New Orleans mint, I sold his story to The Numismatist (vol 127 no. 4, April 2017). I also presented it at an ANA convention in Dallas on 5 March 2016 and the story is here on my blog at https://necessaryfacts.blogspot.com/2012/12/from-texas-to-moon-with-john-leonard.html

 


For Armadillocon 41 in 2019, my talk on Friday night 2 August was on “The Future of Money” (on this blog here: https://necessaryfacts.blogspot.com/2019/08/the-future-of-money.html). This was also my presentation for an ANA convention, for which I was awarded a stipend by the Sundman/Littleton Coin Lecture Series 14 August 2019, for the Chicago venue. Over the years, the ANA honored several of my publications with literary awards, first, second, and third place, depending. And I wrote a monthly column for them from 2005 to 2011 in addition to accepting assignments from the editor for special feature articles. So, this was an area where I could bring some expertise.


My second engagement for Armadillocon 41 was less well grounded but even more fun for me. I proposed a talk on “The Future of Crime and Punishment.” My degrees are in criminology and social science and I have a couple of peer reviewed publications, but not the depth of numismatics and I am not a retired FBI guy, just a retired security guard. However, I was placed on a panel to game the robbing of a space station, “The Perfect Heist: Crime in the 23rd Century.” (Stina Leicht moderated with help from David Afsharirad, Rob Rogers, Michael Bracken, GoH Rebecca Roanhorse and me, the wheelman.) We got away with it.

 

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Sunday, January 1, 2017

Most Popular Pageviews

I write this blog for myself. As a contract technical writer, I get paid to write what other people want. I enjoy it. That work is near the top of my Maslow Hierarchy as self-fulfillment. But it is still primarily for other people, work for hire. This is my own diary. 

I do publicize some of the essays here. Even so, I only have seven followers. So, to have 178,133 pageviews in five years is interesting, if not laudable. Just under 100 times a day, someone else reads something here. But who reads what?

Sometimes, readers from Russia, China, or India have taken first place. Occasionally, other areas pop up in the standings. Usually, of course, most of the hits come from Americans. If I were not an American, that might not be true, but, of course, America dominates the Internet.

To me, the curious fact is that the most popular essay is "What (if Anything) Did Dorothy Learn?" which examines the penultimate scene of the 1939 film, The Wizard of Oz. Not in this blog, but available elsewhere, is an article that I wrote about the political, economic, and numismatic references in L. Frank Baum's classic fantasy. It appeared first in the Centinel of the Central States Numismatic Society, Vol. 58, no. 2, Summer 2010, p.58-61 as "The Wizard of Oz: Child's Tale or Numismatic Allegory?"  That issue is archived on the Newman Numismatic Portal here.

Generally, the articles here are about science and technology, numismatics, politics, and science fiction. But those easy rubrics mask what I consider to be more interesting threads.

Nerds, geniuses, and gifteds make it possible for the rest of us to survive. When the great glaciers were melting, we might have had one genius every three or four generations. Now, with 6 billion people on Earth, we have more of them all the time. And I am glad that we do.

Recently, I started writing about the military. On November 22, 2014, I volunteered to join the Texas State Guard. I came to that opportunity by way of contract technical writing. I was on assignment with the Texas Division of Emergency Management within the Texas Department of Public Safety. There, I found out about the work of the TXSG, which evacuates people from danger, manages shelters, carries out ground search, and other duties. My next assignment was for the office of the Executive Director of the Texas Military Department. So, it was easy to volunteer.  And I am learning a lot about leadership which is better than management for everyone in the business world. 

Numismatics is the art and science that studies the forms and uses of money. Numismatics opens the door to history, language, fine art, culture, commerce, and, of course, economics. It is a large lacuna that the great economists were not themselves "coin collectors." (A modern exception is George Selgin, author of Good Money: Birmingham Button Makers, the Royal Mint, and the Beginnings of Modern Coinage.)  Money has many forms and functions, and numismatics is about much more than coins. 

I love cities. I admit that a week in New York is about two days too many, but having lived in two small towns and two villages (in America), a city of one or two million is just about right for me. Austin is perfect. My choices aside, megacities are the jewels of planet Earth.

When I was in graduate school (2009-2010), I had a criminology class in Miscarriages of Justice that focused on misconduct in police laboratories and junk science in the courtroom. From there, I expanded my reading into laboratory misconduct and academic fraud. The two areas are inter-connected. They each can be extended to include electoral voting fraud.

But I write about whatever interests me from astronomy to firefighters. Apparently, other people find some of it interesting, also, and I am glad that they do.

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Thursday, December 27, 2012

From Texas to the Moon with John Leonard Riddell

John Leonard Riddell was the first working scientist to publish a science fiction story, Orrin Lindsay’s Plan of Aerial Navigation, with a Narrative of His Explorations in the Higher Regions of the Atmosphere, and His Wonderful Voyage Round the Moon! (Rea's Power Press, New Orleans, 1847). The story was based on a presentation to the People's Lyceum of that city on April 30.

Riddell catalogued plants. He served as chief melter and refiner at the New Orleans Mint from 1838 to 1849. He was a medical doctor, completing two different degrees, one of which he renounced. He advocated for the germ theory of disease at time when the miasma theory was more widely accepted.

While teaching at the Louisiana Medical College (now Tulane University), Riddell invented the binocular microscope. He carried out two geographical and botanical surveys of Texas.
Portrait of John Leonard Riddell from the Herbarium of Tulane University
Tulane Herbarium Portrait
of John Leonard Riddell

Born in Leyden, Massachusetts, February 20, 1807, he was the oldest of ten, After completing a bachelor of arts degree in 1829 at Rensselaer School (now Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute), Riddell taught in his own grammar school. But it was not for him. Moving to Ohio, he completed his first medical doctorate at the Ohio Reformed Medical College in Worthington (March 31, 1834). He then earned a second at the Medical College of Ohio in Cincinnati, March 5, 1836, and discarded the first, calling the curriculum useless. 

Riddell was an herbalist. He collected rare plants for many reasons but always in search of those that heal and prevent sickness. Perhaps the best validation of his scientific acumen is that fact that he sold his collections by subscription: people paid him to find flowers.  In fact, his work in Ohio in the 1830s is still considered significant today. Ohio was a state by 1803. The frontier was fast retreating. Riddell sought, gathered, and identified plants that were disappearing as civilization erased untamed wilderness. In addition to pressing plants, Riddell created accurate portraits of them. Riddell’s status as a scientist is known to botanists. Several species are named for him. His work is still the basis for new examinations in our time.
Riddell's microscope. Another device made later 
for someone else is incorrectly cited in
two biographies.
Riddell then moved to New Orleans.  An active Democrat, he won an appointment as chief melter of the New Orleans Mint. He published A Monograph on the Silver Dollar, Good or Bad (E. Shepard, 1845; and Soxiedad Numismatica de Mexico, 1969.)  The reprint is based on the fact that in 1845,the “silver dollar” was the Mexican peso; US federal dollars were rare patterns and low mintages. Mexican silver circulated as legal tender in the USA until 1857. While at the Mint, he improved on the machineries; his rotary ingot machine was in use as late as 1904.

 In 1839, Riddell came to Texas.  He published Observations on the Geology of the Trinity Country, Texas in the American Journal of Science and Arts, November 1839.  Riddell’s diary was republished as A Long Ride in Texas: The Explorations of John Leonard Riddell by Jo Breeden, editor, (Texas A&M University Press, College Station, Texas: 1994).

John Leonard Riddell was acknowledged as brilliant – even without peer – among his contemporaries, for instance by Edward H. Barton, then also of the University of Louisiana, who debated against him on the germ theory of disease. Though given to no end of professional quarrels – even convicted of assault while at the Mint – Riddell was a favorite with his chemistry students. Riddell was uncompromising, flamboyant, even violent. His debates in the pages of newspapers wore out at least one editor. 

Riddell rejected the “miasma” theory of disease, the claim that unhealthy vapors cause sickness; and believed firmly that diseases are caused by “animiculae” or “germs.”  (Although microscopic “animiculae” were known from 1670, they were thought to be a consequence of the illness. Most people, including doctors, believed that sickness is caused by a miasma, hence "malaria" or "bad air.") In arguing for this theory, he engaged every tool and trick known to rhetoric and debate.

Cover of booklet titled "On the Nature of Miasma and Contagion" by John Leonard Riddell, Cincinnati, 1836 explaining that diseases are caused by germs, not by vapors.
On the Nature of Miasm and Contagion
by John Leonard Riddell, 1836
On the evening of April 30, 1847, Riddell delivered to the People’s Lyceum of New Orleans, a story of aerial navigation.  On May 8, from the Branch Mint, Riddell answered a note sent by nine of those present asking him to publish the adventure.  He agreed to bring out Orrin Lindsay’s Plan of Aerial Navigation with a Narrative of his Explorations in the Higher Regions of the Atmosphere and his Wonderful Voyage Round the Moon! (New Orleans: Rea’s Power Press Office, 55 Magazine Street; 1847).  I found this lost work archived in the microforms at the University of Texas LibraryThe full text runs 33 pages. Being Riddell presenting Lindsay’s story, it begins with several pages of background, including his own disclaimers and endorsements. 

Orrin Lindsay was a student of natural science whom Riddell knew in Cincinnati where Riddell taught chemistry.  Lindsay invented a means of screening out gravity.  Like a space opera of the 1950s, Riddell goes into detail on the theory, though remaining vague on the material of the screen.  Even Newton did not theorize about what gravity “is” and Riddell’s questions suggest the thinking of modern physicists.  Gravity cannot be itself a material substance. (We would say that no graviton particle exists.) Gravity cannot be “pure motion.”  It cannot be “quiet and inherent in matter” because any body would use up or give up all of its inherent gravity.  In short, Orrin Lindsay’s better understanding of gravity’s true nature allowed his invention.

Lindsay created a screen from “well prepared steel, after being superficially amalgamated with quicksilver, and then strongly magnetized.”  Lindsay carefully experimented with models to determine that he could build a spherical “balloon,” outfit it with suitable supplies, and journey to the Moon.  The wonderful material prevented gravitational attraction.  Where the material was not, attraction occurred.  Thus, by opening a view port in the direction of the Moon, Lindsay traveled there – but not before carefully testing the device in a trial ascent.

The story is remarkable for its scientific accuracy.  Not only is it footnoted with laborious algebra to prove its points, but Riddell possessed the ability to imagine the physical consequences of space travel. “An indescribable sensation seized me.  I could not tell up from down.  I had lost all bodily weight. … The slightest springing effort, sent me slowly from one side of the balloon to the opposite.”  He accurately described a candle flame in zero-g: “The flame of the taper became globular and less luminous; -- the heated air from it, seemingly not knowing which way to rise, diffused itself slowly in every direction.”
Interior of Lindsay's space "balloon"
by Brad W. Foster for this presentation

Instruments based on air pressure showed his altitude as he rose.  He grew uncomfortably colder, the same experience well known to private pilots in small craft in our time.  Also known by experience in our time is this description of the sky: “The higher I ascended, the deeper became the blue of the sky until at my greatest altitude, it became almost black… My breathing became quick and laborious from the rarified condition of the air. … I resolved to commence my descent. For this purpose, I increased the lower opening, and looking down, far below me, I beheld a mass of fleecy, sun-light clouds, of pure white appearance, like giant locks of the finest cotton.” 

Before the second ascent, the balloon was made air-tight with sheets of lead and rubber.  Better prepared with insulation, tanks of compressed oxygen, and chemicals for cleaning the air, Lindsay and his companion – Abner Jossilin of Cincinnati, a maker of “philosophical instruments” – took off for the Moon.  (The recycling of air and water was another prescient feature of this story and the calculations are provided for the reader.)  They saw meteors in the upper atmosphere, to corroborate the theory that these are indeed bits of interplanetary stone attracted to the Earth and glowing by friction with the atmosphere.

At 100 miles above the Moon, their orbit took “one hour, 54 minutes and 17 seconds. … We were everywhere presented with the evidences of former volcanic action.”  On the dark side of the Moon, they saw an active volcano.  “Respecting the appearance of the earth before starting from the moon, it is proper to relate that she looked like a new moon but fifteen times larger.” As they traveled back to Earth, the view changed. “She looked like an enormous moon, almost in her first quarter. …A delicate blue ring mottled with flakes of white… The prevailing green of fertile islands and continents, the pale sands of arid deserts, the naked rocks of mountain ranges, the glistening ramifications of rivers, and the polished convexity of the oceans all were clearly to be discriminated. … Brilliant beyond description were the icy regions about the South Pole, illuminated as they were by the sun.”

The balloon entered the atmosphere and the description could have come from The Right Stuff.  “We felt a slight shock, and perceived a flash of light as we passed through the aerial billow; the friction of the balloon upon the air being sufficient to produce that effect.  In a few moments our meteoric light ceased … and again the light reappeared accompanied by another slight shock… These singular phenomena, I presume were produced by the balloon’s rebounding from the aerial billows, just a cannon ball will ricochet along the surface of the water.”

After circumnavigating the Earth they land back at the launch site and the story ends.

Like other scientists from Thomas Huxley to Isaac Asimov and Rudy Rucker, Riddell wrote science fiction.  Unlike anyone else, however, he was the first.
His uncompromising forensics finally felled him. President Buchanen appointed him post master before secession (August 1860); and he exercised his duties even during the war. With the Union army in the city, Riddell arranged for his election as governor of the state, a sham that did stand up.  At a caucus on October 2, 1865, he berated his Democratic Party compatriots on the folly of secession. Hounded from the hall, he retreated to his library to write his rebuttal, but he suffered a heart attack and died on October 7.

In all, using JSTOR, Google Scholar, Gale Cengage, and other databases, I compiled over seventy separate references and citations to Riddell and his scientific work, primarily in botany.  These four substantiate the modern acceptance of his contributions.
·        Walp, Russell Lee, "Riddell's Notice of Vegetable Productions Growing Spontaneously in Washington County, Ohio," The Ohio Journal of Science 51(6): 320, November, 1951.
·        Dorr, Laurence J., "The Identity of Riddelia Raf. and Remarks on Corchorus L. (Tiliaceae), " Taxon, Vol. 41, No. 1 (Feb., 1992), pp. 80-83.
·        Wilbur, Robert L. and Margaret K. Whitson, "The Identity of Riddell's Seven Validly Published but Over-looked Pteridophytic Binomials" American Fern Journal, Oct 2005 95(4), pp. 160-170.
·        Wilbur, Robert L. and Maggie K. Whitson. “Taxonomic Assessment of the North American Taxa Published by John L. Riddell in 1853,” Rhodora, 109:938, (2007) pp. 161-186.

See also: Bleiler, Everett F., “John Leonard Riddell, Pioneer,” Science Fiction Studies, #108, Vol. 36, No. 2 (July 2009), pp. 284-299.