by Franz Rottensteiner
There was a time when German science fiction was often published in American SF magazines, specifically the Gernsback magazines, Amazing Stories and later the magazines of the Wonder group. Hugo Gernsback, born August 16, 1884 in Luxembourg, spoke German and studied at the Technikum für Maschinenbau und Elektrotechnik in Bingen until 1904, when he emigrated to the United States. But he selected the stories to be translated for his magazines not himself, his editor C.A. Brandt did. It is claimed that in his youth Gernsback was a vociferous reader of science fiction, but he never mentioned what he actually read. In his compilation The Gernsback Years (Kent State University Press 1998), where he provided plot summaries and critical evaluations of all the stories published in the Gernsback magazines, Everett F. Bleiler wrote:
“Just what Gernsback read, beyond Jules Verne, is uncertain, since he was not specific, but it would seem reasonable that as a German-speaker educated in a German technical school he would have been acquainted with the work of Kurd Lasswitz. It has been objected that Gernsback never mentioned Lasswitz, but this is not a strong objection.” (p. 144)
But there may be a good reason why Gernsback never mentioned Lasswitz, even if he knew his work. Gernsback’s SF novel Ralph 124C41+ from 1911 contains many gadgets and other elements already to be found in Pictures from the Future (Bilder aus der Zukunft, 1878) and Auf zwei Planeten (1897). He may have wanted to appear more original in his ideas, avoiding to draw attention to the fact that he heavily borrowed from another writer. There is also a striking plot device at the start of the text, occurring in Gernsback’s novel and another German publication, Albert Robida’s Das elektrische Jahrhundert (translation from the French La vie electrique, 1891/92) which appeared in 1899 as No 128 in Kürschner’s Bücherschatz, a series of booklets at the time as widely popular as Reclam’s Universal Library. The hero of this novel saves, just as Ralph later does, by television and tele-action the heroine from dying in an avalanche. It is Gernsback’s character that makes such an assumption seem likely. Jack Williamson stated in his Wonder’s Child (p. 53), “He was never a helpful or creative editor, nor even very ethical”. And Barry Malzberg, in a dialogue with Mike Resnick, called him a “crook”: “(… and a contemptuous crook who stiffed his writers but paid himself $100K a year as President of Gernsback Publications). This has been clearly established.”
Gernsback was of the opinion that being published was reward enough for authors and paid tiny fees, and these often late or not at all.
“Gernsback’s venality and corruption, his sleaziness and his utter disregard for the financial rights of authors, have been well documented and discussed in critical and fan literature.” (Resnick, Mike; Malzberg, Barry (December 2009 – January 2010). “Resnick and Malzberg Dialogues XXXXVI: The Prozines (Part 1)”. The SFWA Bulletin. 43 (5): 27–28.
He also utterly lacked in literary sensibility and seems to have been interested only in ideas, but not in their literary execution, and that is reflected in the science-fiction published in his magazines. It is not known whether he actually paid for the German stories translated in his magazines or whether the authors knew at all of those translations. Altogether he published four German short stories: Leo am Bruhl, “Garfield’s Invention” Wonder Stories, January 1934 (tr. of “Garfield’s Erfindung”, Die Woche, No. 33/1929), Anthos’s (d. i. Leonhard Langheinrich; 1890-1944), “The Malignant Flower”, Amazing Stories, September 1927 (tr. of „Die Blume des Bösen“, in Scherl’s Magazin, Juni 1927), Kurd Siodmak’s “The Eggs from Lake Tanganyika“, Amazing Stories, July 1926, this issue has a cover by Frank R. Paul for the story (tr. of “Die Eier vom Tanganjika-See“ (Scherl’s Magazin, 4/1926) as by F. Cusimak). The stories are routine, the Siodmak tale of gigantic insects was obviously influenced by H.G. Wells; and Max Valier’s “A Daring Trip to Mars” in Wonder Stories, July 1931 (tr. of In kühner Fahrt zum Mars. Eine kosmische Phantasie, published in 1928 by Gutsmann as a chapbook). Everett F. Bleiler commented: “The engineering detail is clearly presented and was undoubtedly accurate and informative in its time. As fiction, the story is not very strong”. (p. 786)
Most often published by Gernsback was Otfrid von Hanstein, a prolific author writing in many genres: “The Hidden Colony”, as a 3-part serial, Wonder Stories, January-March 1935 (tr. of Die Farm des Verschollenen, 1924), “Utopia Island”, a 2-part serial, Wonder Stories, May-June 1931 (tr. of Das Rätsel der Drusenkopfinsel, 1931, first published 1930 in Der gute Kamerad). Bleiler (as likely) and the International Speculative Fiction Database state that this was a translation of Ein Flug um die Welt und die Insel der seltsamen Dinge (1927), but that is quite a different novel. “Electropolis” (complete novel), Wonder Stories Quarterly, Summer 1930 (tr. of Elektropolis. Die Stadt der technischen Wunder, 1928), “Between Earth and the Moon” (complete novel), Wonder Stories Quarterly, Fall 1930 (tr. of Mond-Rak I. Eine Fahrt ins Weltall, 1929), and “In the Year 8000”, a 3-part serial, Wonder Stories, July-September 1932. This novel, which was supposedly translated by Konrad Schmidt and Laurence Manning from the German manuscript, poses a mystery, since so far no German publication has been found. It seems strange that a widely published author like Hanstein should have been unable to find a German publisher for it. Gernsback claimed that it was especially written for him after “Utopia Island” was well received, but it may well be, given his debatable publishing reputation, that Gernsback published a story that was not written by Hanstein all, especially as this novel is a marked departure from Hanstein’s earlier work. Bleiler speculates that Hanstein may have failed to find a German publisher for it and turned it over to Gernsback. Laurence Manning, one of the translators was at the time an emerging SF author, but if he was the author and not the translator, it seems strange that he kept silent about it. It is easy to see why “Hidden Colony”, “Electropolis”, and “Utopia Island” found favour with Gernsback. They are gadget stories full of technical wonders. Bleiler found Hanstein’s writing not very exciting, but sometimes his ideas fascinating:
“The Hidden Colony”: “The frame situation is confusing and the characterization weak, but the elevation of technology and the symbolism are fascinating. Although Aporius’s world is usually taken as the glorification of mechanism and control, a closer reading reveals considerable ambivalence in Hanstein’s vision. However, stodgy in writing and presentation.” (p. 170) “Utopia Island”: ”Interesting as a Ralphism, with more material than is indicated above displaying the possible wonders of technology”. p. 170), “Electropolis”: “As reading, competent work, but with no special appeal. Even so, certainly superior to most of the longer works in the pulp science-fiction of the day”. (p. 171) “Between Earth and the Moon”: “The development is fairly realistic, based on German rocket research of the time, but not as valid as Gail’s work. On the dull side, although in context, back in 1928, it was probably more exciting” (p.171).
Since “In the Year 8000” is so unknown it may be worth to quote Bleiler’s summary of it at more length:
The future world is one of high science and automation. The Moon has been colonized and developed for radium mining; there are thought machines of various types; and an earth tube is under construction. Food production is based on the enormous completely automated farms that Hanstein has favored elsewhere. Politically, there have been great changes. The world is divided into three empires; the Blancos, or Europe, Australia, and America; the Flavos or Yellows, Asia; and the Nigros, Africa. All speak Esperanto, but relations among them are hostile. The Orientals and Africans are ruled by despotic emperors, while the whites have a democratic government. Socially, the culture is slanted toward scientism and rationality, a trend which some deplore. There is an underground movement that urges a return to nature and emotion. Birth control is rigid practiced, and to maintain the population level a sizable proportion of the women is desexualized and turned into neuters. This is done on a voluntary basis The fertile females are kept as group mothers in what amounts to harems. The story line is concerned with three elements: (1) Frequent, very destructive meteorite storms . The major cities have ray shields against meteorites. (2) An African fifth columnist in Berlin. He will turn off the ray shield turning the next meteorite bombardment, so that Berlin will be destroyed. At the same time the Yellows and Blacks will invade Europe. (3) The love life of Bela Wilson. She has read too many ancient romances. She is torn between two men, the cold engineer in charge of the earth tube project, who cares little for her, and an emotional young man who loves her deeply. Things go off. The meteorite swarm does less damage to Berlin than expected. The invaders are defeated. The earth tube explodes. And both young men are badly wounded; out of the two men advanced surgery makes one man who is suitable for Bela. Together the abandon the mechanistic civilization and go to live on one of the communal farms. Much less pleasant than the other Hanstein stories, with some elements of early racism. Also too much resonance from Harbou’s Metropolis. (p. 171-2)
Outer space and rocketry were frequent themes in the German novels printed in the Gernsback magazines. Anton Ludwig, “Interplanetary Bridges”, appeared as a complete novel in Wonder Stories Quarterly, Winter 1933 (tr. of Brücken über dem Weltenraum, 1922). Bleiler found it as literature mediocre at best, but in politics very distasteful and was surprised that Gernsback would print this. “Scientific revanchism and interplanetary exploration. The mode is heavily nationalistic, with repeated complaints about the Treaty of Versailles and the occupation forces in Germany, as well as statements of the need to restore German power.” (p.14) Bruno Hans Buergel’s Der Stern von Afrika . Eine Reise ins Weltall (1921), appeared, translated by Konrad Schmidt and Fletcher Pratt, as “The Cosmic Cloud” in Wonder Stories Quarterly, Fall 1931. The work of this popular German astronomer and science journalist found little favor with Bleiler. He called it “mostly romance and comedy of manners”, “not up to the work of the major German science fiction authors of the period” (p. 91) and because of the unusual (temporarily?) unhappy ending he speculated that there might be a sequel planned. It seemed strange to an American that there might be a final unhappy ending. Bleiler was more lenient on Otto Willi Gail, whose Der Schuss ins All (1925) appeared as “The Shot into Infinity” in Science Wonder Quarterly, Fall 1929, reprinted in Science Fiction Quarterly, Spring 1941, and again in Garland’s Library of Science Fiction (1975) and its sequel Der Stein vom Mond (1926) as “The Stone from the Moon” in Science Wonder Quarterly, Spring 1930, and reprinted in Science Fiction Quarterly, Winter 1941. “On The Shot into Infinity” Bleiler wrote: “Like Gail’s other work it is fairy rigorous and farsighted in technical resources. As fiction it is commercial, weakly characterized, somewhat melodramatic and cliched, but not offensively so” (p. 270), and on “The Stone from the Moon:” “An odd combination of motifs from Helena Petrovna Blavatsky’s Theosophy and serious contemporary astronautics … A curious medley of elements from occultism and sound extrapolations on astronautics. Many of Korf’s activities have turned out to be prophetic”. (p. 271)
It is doubtful that any of these novels of German rocketry had any influence on pulp fiction, for while German science fiction of that period timidly was limited to the solar system, hardly ever venturing beyond Mars, American science fiction already had the whole universe as its playground, flitting unhindered through space, ever after E. E. Smith’s “The Skylark of Space” was published as a 3-part serial in Amazing Stories, August through October 1928.
But even the most interesting German novel in the Gernsback magazines, Friedrich Freksa’s controversial Druso oder die gestohlene Menschenwelt (1931), tr. by the renowned SF author Fletcher Pratt, as a 3-part serial in Wonder Stories, May-July 1934, seems to have found little resonance. “As an adventure story, routine at best, once the boring introductory section is passed. Otherwise an unpleasant book” (p. 131). Bleiler’s distaste for the book seems to have clouded his literary judgment. For while many descriptions in the novel are really hard to take and shocking, Wells’ Martians with all the horrors of the First World War (and more), the novel is far from boring, presents some interesting ideas and above all, it is powerful. Manfred Nagl in his Science Fiction in Deutschland (1972) has interpreted the novel as anti-semitic. In his reading the alien invaders represent the Jews who appear as insects to be exterminated.
“In retrospect, Druso can be seen as a document in the rise of right-wing thought, parallel to National Socialism in Weimar German. The basic plot can be read as a metaphor for the political situation of the day, although it must be admitted that similar plots are not unfamiliar from English-language science-fiction. Present are many buzzwords and concepts associated with Germany of the Nazi period: “The master race,” the necessity for individuals to sacrifice themselves for the good of culture, the great benefits created by war, the desirability of blondism, etc. all with a specific Germanic tone that is unpleasant. As is the case with “Interplanetary Bridges” by Ludwig Anton, one is surprised that Gernsback would publish such a work. (Bleiler, p. 131)
Contrary to Nagl and Bleiler, Emma Braslavsky, in her recent novel Erdling (Suhrkamp 2023), a postmodern tour through German science fiction landscapes, sees the novel as “resistant”(widerständig) which includes Atlantis and such ideas only as a means to make the book more palatable to the general public.
If I am right in my supposition about Gernsback, Kurd Lasswitz may have been a considerable unseen influence on the emerging American science-fiction, although his only presence in translation was the first chapter of his “Bis zum Nullpunkt des Seins” (1871) as “Pictures out of the future” in the 20th Century issue of The Overland Monthly, June 1890. The full text of this story “To the absolute Zero of Existence” appeared only in 2008 in my anthology of German science-fiction The Black Mirror (Wesleyan University Press). A translation of Auf zwei Planeten appeared as late as 1971 as Two Planets from Southern Illinois University Press (reprinted in paperback 1976 by Popular Library), and that in the form of the rigorously abridged version by Lasswitz’s son Erich, published in Germany in 1948. A few of Lasswitz’s philosophical short stories appeared only in the fifties in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction (“When the Devil Took the Professor”, January 1953; “Aladdin’s Lamp”, May 1953; “Psychotomy”, July 1955), and Clifton Fadiman’s anthology Fantasia Mathematica (1958, “The Universal Library”), all translated by Willy Ley. Lasswitz was treated by E.F. Bleiler with much respect in his Science-Fiction: The Early Years, Kent State Unversity Press 1990.
It might be interesting to have a look at what translated German science-fiction was published in book form before World War II. First, there were the books that were transformed into films: Thea von Harbou’s Metropolis (1926, first translation 1927, many later editions in English), and Die Frau im Mond (1928, first English edition in 1930 as The Girl in the Moon and The Rocket to the Moon, some later editions), and Kurd Siodmak’s F.P.1 antwortet nicht (1931, tr. 1933 as F.P. 1 Does Not Reply and F.P.1 Fails to Reply). There also seems to have been a special interest in rocketry and space travel, as attested by the translations of Otto Willi Gail’s Hans Hardts Mondfahrt (1928, tr. as By Rocket to the Moon. The Story of Hans Hardt’s Miraculous Flight, 1931, reprinted in 2011 and 2019) and Friedrich Wilhelm Mader’s Wunderwelten: Wie Lord Flitmore eine seltsame Reise zu den Planeten unternimmt und durch einen Kometen in die Fixsternwelt entführt wird (1911, tr. as Distant Worlds. The Story of a Voyage to the Planets, 1932, reprinted as a Hyperion Press Classic of Science Fiction 1976). A book wholly apart from those themes is Alexander Moszkowski’s, Die Inseln der Weisheit. Geschichte einer abenteuerlichen Entdeckungsfahrt (1922), a high-brow journey through various philosophical systems that has been neglected in studies of German science fiction. It appeared as The Isles of Wisdom both in U.S.A. and U.K. (Routledge, London 1924, Dutton New York 1925). Bleiler’s evaluation of Thea von Harbou, F.W. Mader and Siodmak is harsh, in the case of Moszkowski very positive:
Metropolis: “Frightful sentimental rubbish, but sometimes psychologically interesting for its baroque overkill of emotion. Fritz Lang’s motion picture Metropolis, though based on the same theme, managed to convey a mood that is beyond the novel.” (p. 344)
The Girl in the Moon: “The plot summary does not convey the moronic level of the text. Although the author borrowed the concepts of the German rocket experimenters, she obviously understood little of it.” (p. 344)
F. P. 1 Does not Reply: “A routine adventure story”. (p. 687)
Distant Worlds: “Low quality material. One wonders why Scribner considered it worthy of translation and publication,”, (p. 474). In Germany this is considered a true classic of science-fiction, despite its proselytizing religious tone, especially Dieter Hasselblatt who wrote an afterword to a Heyne reprint (1987), was enthusiastic about it.
By Rocket to the Moon: “Despite Atlantis and life on the moon, the author has very carefully used the best scientific and technological data of his day, and much of what he says seems very modern. Successful as a boys’ book” (p. 271)
The Isles of Wisdom: “Back in German, the travelers, now educated by their exploration of the follies of mankind, decide that philosophies are good enough in their way, but cannot meet the complexities of daily life. The irony is finely handled; the argumentation is sometimes both subtle and thought-provoking”. (p. 528)
It would seem to me that all of these few translations from the German language had almost no influence on the development of Anglophone science fiction, much less than one man had who was a real influence, the Austrian born artist Frank R. Paul (1884 –1963), who did more than 220 covers for the magazines, including the first issue of Amazing Stories, and the cover of the book edition of Gernsback’s Ralph 124C41+. He illustrated most of the translated stories mentioned here. And he has even been called the father of science fiction art.
Franz Rottensteiner was born in Waidmannsfeld, Lower Austria, in 1942. He studied journalism, anglistics and history in Vienna and earned his PhD in 1969. While working as librarian and editor at the Austrian Institute for Construction Research, be began editing several book series of science fiction and fantastic literature, the most important perhaps Die phantastischen Romane at Paul-Zsolnay-Verlag and the Phantastische Bibliothek at Suhrkamp Verlag. In 1969 he got into contact with the, at that time little known, Polish writer Stanislaw Lem and was his literary agent until 1995. Today he is the agent of the brothers Strugatsky for the American market. He has published numerous anthologies and nonfiction books about science fiction and fantasy. Since 1963 he edits the Quarber Merkur, the leading magazin for the critical and theoretical discussion of fantastic literature in the German language area. The European Science Fiction Society awarded him the title of a European Grand Master in 2020.