His Master's Voice (novel)

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**Title** **His Master's Voice**
English edition cover.
Author	Stanisław Lem
Original title	Głos pana
Translator	Michael Kandel
Country	Poland
Language	Polish
Genre(s)	social science fiction, satire
Publisher	Czytelnik
Released	1968
ISBN	ISBN 0-15-640300-5

His Master's Voice (original Polish title: Głos pana) is a science fiction novel written by Stanisław Lem, first published in 1968. It was translated into English by Michael Kandel in 1983. It is a densely philosophical novel about an effort by scientists to decode, translate and understand an extraterrestrial transmission. The novel critically approaches humanity's intelligence and intentions in deciphering and truly comprehending a message from outer space. It is considered to be one of three most known books by Lem, the other two being Solaris and The Cyberiad.[1]

1 Plot
2 Interpretations and influence
3 Quotes
4 Further reading
5 References

[edit] Plot

Spoiler warning: Plot and/or ending details follow.

The novel is written as a first-person narrative, the memoir of a mathematician named Peter Hogarth, who becomes involved in a Pentagon-directed project in the Nevada desert, where scientists are working to decode what seems to be a message from outer space (specifically, from the Canis Minor constellation). Throughout the book Hogarth — or rather, Lem himself — exposes the reader to many debates merging cosmology and philosophy: from discussions of epistemology, systems theory, information theory and probability, through the idea of evolutionary biology and the possible form and motives of extraterrestrial intelligence, with digressions about ethics in military-sponsored research, to the limitations of human science constrained by the human nature subconsciously projecting itself into the analysis of any unknown subject. At some point the involved scientists, desperate for new ideas, even begin to read and discuss popular science-fiction stories, and Lem uses this opportunity to criticize the science fiction genre, as Hogarth soon becomes bored and disillusioned by monotonous plots and the unimaginative stories of pulp magazines.

The theories the scientists come up with all seem to make some progress toward deciphering the signal; however, as we are informed in the very few first pages of Hogarth's memoirs, for all their effort, the scientists are left with few new, real discoveries. By the time the project is ended, they are no more sure than they were in the beginning about whether the signal was a message from intelligent beings that humanity failed to decipher, or a random, cosmic background noise that resembled, for a while, the "thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters creating a meaningful message" puzzle.

Spoilers end here.

[edit] Interpretations and influence

Brazilian edition cover.

The book can be viewed on many levels: as part of the social science fiction genre criticizing Cold War military and political decision-making as corrupting the ethical conduct of scientists; as a psychological and philosophical essay on the limitations of the human mind facing the unknown; or as a satire of "men of science" and their thinking. The critique of the idea of 'pure science' is also a critique of the positivist approach: Lem argues that no scientist can be detached from the pressures of the outside world. The book is deeply philosophical, and there is relatively little action; most of the book consists of philosophical essays, monologues and dialogues.

Lem's similar books exploring the issues of first contact are Fiasco, Eden and perhaps most famously, Solaris, although His Master's Voice is certainly one of Lem's more philosophical books.

Głos Pana was translated from Polish into Czech, English, Finnish, French, Georgian, German, Hungarian, Japanese, Latvian, Portuguese, Russian, Serbian, Slovak and Spanish.

While Lem's take on the idea of 'understanding a message from space' is certainly unique in the depth of his philosophical approach to it, the idea was also used both earlier and after he wrote his book. In 1962 Fred Hoyle wrote the novel A for Andromeda where a cosmic message teaches humanity how to build a succession of more complex organic creatures. And 17 years after Lem wrote His Master's Voice, and three years after it was translated into English, Carl Sagan wrote his acclaimed book, Contact, which uses many ideas similar to His Master's Voice; Sagan's book however is much more optimistic in its outlook, and is also more action-oriented than Lem's.

[edit] Quotes

We stood at the feet of a gigantic find, as unprepared, but also as sure of ourselves, as we could possibly be. We clambered up on it from every side, quickly, hungrily, and cleverly, with our time-honored skill, like ants. I was one of them. This is the story of an ant.
What would happen to us if we could truly sympathize with others, feel with them, suffer for them? The fact that human anguish, fear, and suffering melt away with the death of the individual, that nothing remains of the ascents, the declines, the orgasms, and the agonies, is a praiseworthy gift of evolution, which made us like the animals. If from of his feelings, if thus grew the inheritance of the generations, if even a spark could pass from man to man, the world would be full of raw, bowel-torn howling.
One frequently encounters the sentiment that in mathematics, all that is needed is "naked ability", because the lack of it there cannot be hidden; while in other disciplines connections, favoritism, fashion and -- most of all -- the absence of that indisputability of proof which is supposed to characterize mathematics, cause a career to be the resultant vector of talents and conditions that are nonscientific. In vain have I tried to explain to such enviers that, alas, in our mathematical paradise things are not ideal. Cantor's beautifully classical theory of plurality was for many years ignored, and for quite unmathematical reasons.
He had not read such books before; he was annoyed - indignant, even - expecting variety, finding monotony. 'They have everything except fantasy,' he said. ... The authors of these pseudo-scientific fairy tales supply the public with what it wants: truisms, cliches, stereotypes, all sufficiently costumed and made 'wonderful' so that the reader may sink into a safe state of surprise and at the same time not be jostled out of his philosophy of life. If there is progress in a culture, the progress is above all conceptual, but literature, the science-fiction variety in particular, has nothing to do with that.
Man's quest for knowledge is an expanding series whose limit is infinity, but philosophy seeks to attain that limit at one blow, by a short circuit providing the certainty of complete and inalterable truth. Science meanwhile advances at its gradual pace, often slowing to a crawl, and for peiriods it even walks in place, but eventually it reaches the various ultimate trenches dug by philosophical thought, and, quite heedless of the fact that it is not supposed to be able to cross those final barriers to the intellect, goes right one. How could this not drive the philosophers to despair? One form of that despair was Positivism, remarkable in its hostility, because it played the loyal ally of science but in fact sought to abolish it. The thing that had undermined and destroyed philosophy, annulling its great discoveries, now was to be severely punished, and Positivism, the false friend, passed that sentence - demonstrating that science could not truly discover anything, inasmuch as it constituted no more than a shorthand record of experience. Positivism desired to muzzle science, to compel it somehow to declare itself helples in all transcendental matters (which, however, as we know, Positivism failed to do). The history of philosophy is the history of successive and nonidentical retreats. Philosophy first tried to discover the ultimate categories of the world; then the absolute categories of reason; while we, as knowledge accumulates, see more and more clearly philosophy's vulnerability: because every philosopher must regard himself as a model for the entire species, and even for all possible sentient being. But it is science that is the transcendence of experience, demolishing yesterday's categories of thought. Yesterday, absolute space-time was overthrown; today, the eternal alternative between the analytic and the synthetic in propositions, or between determinism and randomness, is crumbling. But somehow it has not occurred to any of our philosophers that to deduce, from the pattern of one's own thoughts, laws that hold for the full set of people, from the eolithic until the day the suns burn out, might be, to put it mildly, imprudent