Customer Reviews

A Case of Conscience

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Father Ramon Ruiz-Sanchez is stationed on the planet Lithia as a biologist. Lithia is inhabited by perfectly rational and good natured reptile like creatures. They are peaceful and unselfish but they have no concept of God or faith and have no literature or art. Even though he admires the Lithians he does not feel comfortable with the situation, something is wrong. It does not make sense to Father Sanchez that creatures that have no concept of God are still perfectly ethical. Could they possibly be the creation of Satan? Then again, does Satan create anything?

One day the earth commission discovers something truly disturbing, something cruel and horrific related to Lithian child rearing. The Lithians maybe rational, they may not be "sinners", and they may not be driven by greed or lust of any kind, but they are still not ethical in a human sense. Father Sanchez wants to protect Earth from contact with Lithia (and vice versa) and as the turbulent story unfolds it turns out that his intuition is on target.

The focus of the book is the theological and philosophical consequences that arise from the comparison of the two worlds. Father Ramon Ruiz-Sanchez is a good hearted religious man with a sharp mind. It is through his thoughts, doubts and theological tribulations that we experience this amazing story.

It does not matter whether you are a Christian, theist, atheist, or agnostic; your belief system will be challenged and most disturbingly your ethical value system will be challenged. Could it be that the Lithians are rational and lack the emotions that typically lead to "sin", but also lack a conscience (like a sociopath)? Or do they have a different ethical system but without a God? In the end I found the book to be sympathetic towards the Catholic belief system.

James Blish wrote many other good novels, for example, Cities in Flight,The Day After Judgement, and Black Easter. Between 1967 and his death in 1975, Blish became the first author to write short story collections based upon the classic TV series Star Trek Star Trek 1 (Vintage Bantam, F3459).

A side note: Many years ago I read a good book by James Blish which I have not been able to find since then. The book followed a similar concept to the Planet of the Apes except the Apes were birds. I would be grateful if someone who knows anything about this book is willing to leave a helpful comment.

This item has now been identified Midsummer century. Thank you Kasey for your help!

I really wanted to like this book. As a science fiction fan who happens to be a minister, I was looking forward to how James Blish would explore the idea of religion in a sci fi setting. While I still like the idea, I had a hard time making it through this book. The book gets off to a good start on the planet Lithia as Sanchez and the others disvocer some surprising revelations and discuss whether or not to allow the planet to be opened up or to close it off to further contact. However, as soon as we get back to Earth, things slow down considerably and the book loses alot of momentum. I think the biggest problem is that I wasn't really sure what Blish was trying to say. What does it all mean. Of course, this could be a problem of my own ignorance and missing the point rather than a flaw in the book. If you like your sci fi novels plot driven and full of action, this is not the book for you. If you like your sci fi to be more thoughtful and character driven, this book might be worth your while to pick up just because it IS one of those classic sci fi novels that made an impact on the genre. Personally, this is not a book I regret reading, but not one I would want to read again either. Maybe I just wanted too badly to like it.

I'm not all that deeply religious and this book made me think about this quite a bit. This book isn't for fans of action oriented SF, if you find yourself reading the Foundation books by Isaac Asimov over and over again this is probably more your speed, like those books (and most books by Asimov) there's little action (most of it being off stage anyway) and the plot mostly centers around people standing arguing over the central point. Here the point is whether we can grant the existence of original sin to a race of creatures that has no concept of faith or belief and who exist basically by reason alone. The priest protagonist has to worry about this and in the beginning you wonder what his problem is but Blish manages to snag you in if you're willing and unravel everything. His tone is measured and calm and he takes his time laying everything out and even if you go in with a certain point of view, he may not change your mind but he'll at least give you cause to stop and think for a moment about your beliefs, whether you're religious or an athiest. Desersedly a winner of the Hugo award a long time ago (this was published in the late fifties I think) these days it's no longer in print for whatever reason which is a shame because in these days of flashy adventure book, we need more novels based on solid ideas that take those ideas to logical ends and make the reader think along the way. If you thought all that James Blish did was those Star Trek books, stop here and see how much better he can be.

This is one of my favorite science fiction books. Well written and thought provoking. It deservedly won the Hugo award. Many SF readers are familiar with Blish for his novelizations of the Star Trek TV episodes. But he is a genuine talent in his own right and shouldn't be dismissed. If the book seems to drag through the first fifty pages, stay with it. It is well worth it. What is so fascinating about this book is that Blish's central character is both a biologist and a catholic priest. By learning to see the events in the story through to eyes of a priest and a scientist the reader is brought to a conclusion both holy and horrifying. The climax is either a triumph of God over Satan, or the greatest man-made tragedy the universe has seen. And the ambiguity is not lost on Blish's priest/scientist and hopefully not his reader.

I used to enjoy reading sci-fi but don't read many religious books anymore, but I enjoyed Blish's odd fusion of science fiction and theology. The central question here is an example of the heresy of Manichaeism, a heresy so serious that people were excommunicated at one time for it. That having been said, it's actually a very complex issue, I learned from this book (and other readings in theology), and basically relates to the the sin of attributing creative powers to the devil. In fact, I've read that Jesuits get a whole course in this at the Vatican so they don't accidently lapse into this forbidden and heretical doctrine.

The book paints the Catholic church and religion in general in a positive light, which is also interesting in that in so many science fiction novels, science has progressed to the point where most people simply take the scientific view and traditional religious views don't seem to matter much anymore. But the Jesuit father who is also the biologist and medical officer on the expedition is very well developed and a very sympathetic character. The physicist (unfortunately I don't recall his name) is a more hard-boiled and more logical and less emotional person compared to the Father, who truly agonizes over the question about whether the existence of Egtverchi's world means that God and traditional morality have no place in the universe.

I don't know of too many other sci-fi novels where religion takes center stage as the main theme, except for perhaps Walter Miller's A Canticle for Leibowitz, and Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light, coincidently two other Hugo winners from first two decades of the Hugo award.

I also don't understand a couple of reader's comments that the writing style was difficult. Come on, were you raised on MTV or something? The book is only a couple hundred pages long and Blish was not the murkiest sci-fi stylist by a long shot. His writing from what I remember was fairly straightfoward in the books and short stories I read even if he does like to speculate on philosophical and moral issues a bit as he does in this novel.

Anyway, overall, I found this a very enjoyable read and I think it counts as one of the better overall Hugo novels from the period considering this was the first decade of the awards and several of the other books from this time, such as Clifton and Riley's They Rather Be Right, and Alfred Bester's The Demolished Man, don't seem to have stood the test of time in the minds of many fans. (I liked the Bester book myself and thought it quite good but haven't read the other, so I can't comment on it).

This is one of the most thought provoking SF novels I have read (particularly the ending). On occasion, I finish a novel in such a way that makes me close the novel and just think about it for a while. Walter Miller's "A Canticle for Leibowitz," is the only other novel I have read that is like it in all the science fiction I have read. It seems science fiction authors find it difficult to deal with religion (especially Christianity) in a serious fashion. There is frequent repetition of a pathetic caricature of Christians as irrational fideists whereas the scientist is generally depicted as a noble person who pursues truth throughout the science fiction genre. Blish was himself an agnostic.

The novel features humanity's first contact with alien race which humanity calls the "Lithians." The aliens have no native religion to speak of, their society is completely stable and they are moral, to the point of perfection. A committee sent by the United Nations (UN) to evaluate how Earth should view this new world. Technologically and scientifically, the Lithians are ahead of Earth in some areas and vice versa. It is coincidence that humanity has invented nuclear weapons and an efficient way to travel across interstellar distances.

The team sent to evaluate Lithia is composed of a chemist, a physicist, another person, and a Jesuit biologist called Ruiz-Sanchez. The team has some friction but it is still required to reach a decision; its recommendation to the UN will determine the state of future relations between Earth and Lithia. Opinion is divided; one wants to open relations and start learning from the Lithian's impressive social strucutre. Another wishes to make Lithia into a planet-wide nuclear weapons factory. Ruiz-Sanchez wants to quarantine it; cut if off from all future contact with man.

As the team is about to leave, one of the Lithians gives Ruiz-Sanchez a young Lithian in an artificial womb. The alien has his name, Egtverchi, encoded into his DNA somehow. He survives the journey back to Earth and starts to grow up with no contact with his native world. He gains UN citizenship and becomes something of a celebrity. Then, Egtverchi becomes a media personality of sorts who stirs up social dissent among the insane and other social rejects. One interesting aspect of the society on Earth in 2050 is that almost everybody lives in underground cities. This is set up as a consequence to the nuclear arms race; countries slowly moved their entire populace under ground until a "Shelter economy" is created. This fear of nuclear destruction and speculation about an underground society somewhat dates the novel but it is otherwise difficult to see that the novel was in fact written in 1959. There are some stylistic anachronisms (e.g. Blish uses the term "Earthmen" for the humans who visit Lithia and the term "rocket" is used for space ships) but, like Heinlein's "Starship Troopers" (this novel, which I have also reviewed, aged better) it has aged well.

Ruiz-Sanchez's inner struggle is well written conflict but the nature of the conflict is somewhat ambiguous. He regards the morally perfect, unbelieving Lithians as elaborate creations of the Adversary (Blish's use of this term instead of "Devil" or "Satan" somehow makes the whole concept more plausible, in my view) to confuse man. Ruiz-Sanchez's audience with Pope has some of the better dialogue and conflict in the novel; it is unfortunately short.

There are a few flaws in the novel that detract from it. First, the story was initially meant as a novella. The section of the novel that takes place in Lithia was initially its own story and then Blish decided to improve on it. This leaves the novel with an awkward sort of transition. The other members of the original Lithia commission are not developed in any meaningful way; their role seems relegated solely to being foils for Ruiz-Sanchez. The "scientific" appendix on Lithia can only be described as superfluous; no use of made of this "data." It is world building for the sake of world building; I would advise any reader to finish the main text of the novel and then just stop.

This novel is a valuable contribution to the genre due to its interesting exploration of religion. It seems to be a theme that the most easily deployed form of religion in SF is Roman Catholicism; an interesting trend, I think.

For those interested in the intersection between Christianity and the science fiction of the late 1950s, this novel makes an intriguing companion piece to A Canticle for Leibowitz. On its own terms, considered as an SF novel, I found it simply dreadful, with no sufficient excuses to be found on the basis of its age.

The story begins as follows: Ramon Ruiz-Sanchez, a Jesuit priest and biologist, is one of a party of four scientists investigating a newly discovered planet and its race of technologically advanced, though pre-spaceflight, aliens. The aliens are the first intelligent beings to be found in man's travels through the galaxy. The first howler in the novel is that these four men, none of them educated in the possibilities of communicating with intelligent aliens, are charged with deciding whether the planet should be opened to further investigation. It's only because the four end up tied in their decision that the planet isn't declared "closed" forever. Apparently the planet is being treated like any other prospect for a "way-station" or for mining exploitation: If the plant and animal life isn't too dangerous, and if the environment and mining prospects are favorable, the planet will be opened. If not, -- whadevah --we'll go find another planet. The existence of the first known alien civilization isn't reason enough to treat this planet any differently from a lifeless asteroid.

Sanchez would like to see the planet closed, because he believes it's a construction of the devil. Literally. The native aliens have no crime or war or apparent misbehavior of any kind, and neither do they have any religion or supernatural beliefs whatsoever. So obviously, Sanchez deduces, they must be a trick, created by Satan to convince mankind that goodness is possible without God.

This is actually one of the more consistent and rational pieces of human motivation in the novel. If one accepts that a future scientist could believe, literally and utterly and unquestioningly, all of the tenets of Christianity, complete with Adam & Eve, the garden of eden and a devil with a pointy tail, then his arguments that the planet must be a construction or illusion (the distinction is important within the story) of the devil are quite logical. Infinitely more logical and believable, for example, than the notion that a religious nut-job like this would be given 1/4 of the deciding power as to whether the planet and race should be open to human study.

Meanwhile, one of the alien race is sent back to Earth as an egg. He quickly grows to adulthood, and thanks to his somewhat Stranger in a Strange Land personality, becomes a TV celebrity, a popular voice among the many disaffected of Earth's citizens. And there are many disaffected citizens, because most of the population are forced to live underground in dreary and unnatural conditions. During the Cold War, the human race abandoned the surface and rebuilt its cities underground in hopes of surviving an imminent nuclear war that never happened. Thanks to a world-government, the threat of war has been gone for many decades, but still mankind lives in its underground "shelter state" because... um... because... because the plot calls for it, that's why. This is perhaps the second biggest howler of irrationality in the book, but there are countless others. In the behavior of individuals, of groups, of crowds, of the government, of the culture as a whole, it's an exception for any of them to make the slightest sense.

In the end, Sanchez performs an exorcism on the entire alien planet via telescope. It's a hallmark of this book that this supremely irrational and downright goofy performance is one of the more logical and understandable acts in the novel.

James Blish is generally considered one the "greats" of mid twentieth century SF. If one reads his two volumes of SF Criticism The Issue At Hand and More issues at Hand, it's clear that he was someone who gave a lot of thought to the art and craft of writing in the genre. But it's my opinion that with this novel, he produced an utterly laughable disaster of epic proportions.

A CASE OF CONSCIENCE is what science fiction should be.

It creates two highly believable worlds -- the futuristic earth of A.D. 2050, and the planet Lithia, dominated by an intelligent and reasonable alien species.

It creates believable human characters, and just as believable alien characters.

It grapples with profound ideas about good and evil, religion and morality, and clashes of cultures and value systems.

And it does all of this with a calm, understated, yet often eloquent writing style that is a joy to savor and bears repeated re-readings.

This is one of the finest science-fiction novels ever written, and it should return to print NOW.

"A Case of Conscience" is an odd mix.

One ingredient is striking naivete along certain dimensions. It is jarring to be presented with a situation where four scientists, two rather provincial and xenophobic, and none trained to work at a high level of professionalism as a team, are given a modest amount of time to visit and decide the fate of an entire planet, based on only the most superficial discussion. As if this weren't enough, it is mentioned, as if barely worthy of note, that this is the first time other intelligent life has ever been encountered. Nobody seems to regard the uniqueness of this situation as particularly important.

The only characters with any depth are Father Ruiz-Sanchez, the Jesuit biologist -- and arguably the stranger-in-a-strange-land alien, Egtverchi.

The story has a lean spareness to it, which is quite a contrast to the elaborate overgrown sagas that are common in more recent genre fiction. That means that nothing is developed in great depth. But it also means that Blish confines himself to the essential bones of the story, and these are unobscured focuses for the reader's thoughts and speculations. Such power as the story has comes from the reader coming back to the core elements and mulling them over, trying to imagine what different things they might be saying about the world, and to what extent one agrees with the various perspectives they might provoke.

A nice amount of balance and ambiguity helps make the story worthy of mulling over. Not ambiguity in the sense of unclearness as to what is being described, but moral ambiguity. First there is Ruiz-Sanchez's angst-ridden arrival at what those with other world-views might consider a sincere but bizarre perspective. Then there is the contrast between an idyllic alien culture, and a human culture that is an interesting mix of utopia and dystopia. How one regards the events that unfold may depend strongly on how one regards the utopian and dystopian elements.

So, I'd describe it as a spare story with much naivete but also some very choice elements that make it memorable and worthy of pondering.

A Case of Conscience is a 1958 science fiction novel by James Blish. It won the 1959 Hugo Award.

In 2049, Ramon Ruiz-Sanchez, a Jesuit priest, accompanies an expedition to an alien planet to see if it should be opened to human contact. The inhabitants are a perfectly moral but completely non-religious people. This causes a crisis of faith for Ruiz-Sanchez, who comes to suspect that the planet and its inhabitants were created by Satan to trick humanity into believing that it can be good without God (that Satan can create relates to the heresy of Manichaeism).

A Case of Conscience is a relatively short novel, but the length never feels insufficient for the task. Blish does just enough world-building with his futuristic Earth to communicate the issues. Curiosity would have liked more information on the planet Lithia, but the story works well enough as is. Blish is heavy on the hard science here, at least enough to overwhelm (and thus fool) the casual reader. This is an idea-driven, not character-driven book, and Blish doesn't bother with much deep introspection on anybody's part (There's great potential for it on Ruiz-Sanchez's part, and it's refreshing to see it not happen).

This novel was expanded from a novella, and there's plenty of room left for further expansion. Egtverchi is a fascinating character and full of potential. But again, it's refreshing to see the idea cow not milked to death - that was how people wrote fifty years ago, but not in our age of Robert Jordan and those hacks that cranked out the Left Behind series.

Like a good science fiction novel should, A Case of Conscience raises some interesting and valid moral and theological issues, and it's entertaining, too.

RECOMMENDED

P.S. - A Spanish-speaking Jesuit priest travels to another planet as part of an expedition to make first contact with an alien race, and subsequently suffers a crisis of faith - this also is the premise of Mary Doria Russell's 1996 novel The Sparrow. Whether Russell borrowed from Blish or not (obviously she did), Blish's novel is incredibly superior (no great achievement, since Russell's is so bad).