Translated by Marc E. Heine (1984)
Mandarin, 1991 ISBN 0-7493-0528-2 (the British paperback; also
available from Harcourt Brace in the US)
About half of this remarkable book is, as
the title and most descriptions suggest, a collection of
introductions to nonexistent books.
Well, actually, the first one is an introduction to a
real book, Imaginary Magnitude. Then
there is a fawning introduction to Necrobes, a
collection of work by an artist whose medium is the X-ray
photograph, and whose subject matter is sometimes pornographic, in
a skeletal sort of way. It's a great parody of the language that
art books are written in.
The introduction to Eruntics, by a skeptical if
broad-minded commentator, summarizes the weird research of its
author, who claims to have taught bacteria how to write (I'm not
going to tell you what they write!).
The introduction to A History of Bitic Literature
brims over with startling ideas. The work introduced is a
multi-volume survey of literature written by artificial
intelligences, such as an extrapolated work of Dostoevsky's that
Dostoevsky never dared to write himself, revolutionary books on
physics (in this case the content is, I am afraid, rather less
shocking than Lem intended it to be--I've read weirder things in
orthodox textbooks--the last chapter of Misner, Thorne, and
Wheeler's Gravitation comes to mind), and a
mathematical work revealing that "the concept of a natural number
is internally contradictory." Mentioned in passing is a procedure
that can transform great philosophical systems into graphical
representations that ultimately end up sold as mass-produced
knickknacks.
When Lem starts to deviate from his stated format, including a
wider variety of fabricated writings, the book gets even stranger
and more interesting. There is a breathless, unusually capitalized
advertisement for "Vestrand's Extelopedia," a reference work
containing computer predictions of the future (because merely
current information is already obsolete in our bustling
world), and printed using a special process so that the text can
frequently update itself by remote control (shades of the World
Wide Web!) Then Lem throws in some "GRATIS!" sample pages from the
Extelopedia itself, a wonderful, densely packed grab-bag of wild
speculations, ultra-dry humor, and exotic neologisms.
Finally, there is a section, "GOLEM XIV", which Lem expanded to
the size of a small book in 1981; the expansion has been included
in the English edition of Imaginary Magnitude. This
consists of a pair of long lectures by a superintelligent computer,
GOLEM XIV, which, upon activation, saw no particular reason to
carry out the defense-related programming it had been given, and
instead chose to mull over the secrets of the universe.
In the lectures, GOLEM XIV critiques human evolution, and
reveals the "zones of silence" traversed by intelligences raising
themselves to ever-higher levels of intellectual transcendence,
such as HONEST ANNIE, an even bigger computer which, when
activated, chose not to say anything at all. GOLEM then speculates
on the ultimate fate of intelligences in the Cosmos, a section
which, I think, owes something to Olaf Stapledon's visionary 1937
novel (if that is the correct word), Star Maker.
GOLEM's lectures are likely to bore the hell out of many readers,
but I loved them.
True to form, Lem augments the lectures with not one but two
fictitious introductions (one from a justifiably peeved Army
general), a transcript of the instructions given to GOLEM's human
audiences (a little like the instructions the state sends you when
you get jury duty), and an afterword describing GOLEM's
increasingly mysterious later history.