The earliest known work of science fiction, Lucian of Samosata’s “A True Story,” provides a fascinating glimpse into the genre’s ancient origins, predating familiar names such as Jules Verne and H.G. Wells by nearly two millennia. As the accompanying video eloquently details, this 2nd-century space opera is a work of satirical genius, cleverly disguised as a travelog while simultaneously lampooning the literary conventions of its time. An understanding of this foundational text is crucial for anyone interested in the evolution of storytelling, particularly within speculative fiction.
Lucian of Samosata: A 2nd-Century Satirist
Lucian of Samosata, a prominent rhetorician and satirist of the Roman Empire, crafted narratives that were immensely popular with the educated upper class of Ancient Greece. His writing style was characterized by an over-the-top, exaggerated humor, which was systematically deployed to ridicule prevailing superstitions, various religious beliefs, and even influential political figures. It is estimated that more than 80 of his works have been preserved, attesting to his significant impact on the literary landscape of his era. Consequently, his continued relevance to historical literary studies is undeniable, even if his specific cultural references are often lost on modern readers nearly 2,000 years removed from his original context.
Understanding Lucian’s target audience is key to appreciating his unique brand of humor. His readership would have been familiar with the specific cultural nuances, public figures, and philosophical debates he was satirizing. Therefore, while contemporary readers might find some of his humor obscure, it was intensely relevant and entertaining for its intended audience. His genius lay in his ability to weave biting social commentary into engaging and often outlandish narratives, a technique that remains effective in satire today.
The Literary Context: Travelogs and Debates
In the 2nd century, two literary genres dominated the Roman Empire: the travelog and the philosophical debate. These forms were not merely popular but were deeply embedded in the intellectual and cultural life of the elite. However, Lucian harbored a strong dislike for what these genres had devolved into, perceiving them as ripe targets for his satirical pen.
Travelogs, which were part guidebooks and part personal journals, were typically accounts of men journeying to distant lands and publishing their discoveries upon returning home. Over time, these narratives became increasingly sensationalist; writers frequently embellished their findings or, in many instances, fabricated outright lies to maintain their relevance and appeal. The desire for novelty often outweighed the commitment to factual accuracy, leading to a proliferation of exaggerated and entirely fictional accounts presented as genuine experiences. Imagine, for instance, explorers claiming encounters with creatures that defied biological possibility, all for the sake of selling more copies.
Philosophical debates, conversely, were written arguments between highly respected public figures, engaging in intricate discussions on specific philosophical or political ideas. These works, however, often became long-winded and excessively highbrow, characterized by sides bickering over the precise semantics of ultimately trivial or unknowable matters. The pursuit of intellectual one-upmanship frequently overshadowed genuine inquiry, leading to verbose and often inaccessible prose. Lucian, with his keen eye for pretense, viewed both genres as prime material for his unique brand of critical humor.
“A True Story”: Meta-Fiction and the Voyage Begins
It is within this literary climate that Lucian penned “A True Story,” a work that ingeniously rolls both the travelog and the debate into a single, cohesive satire. The narrative commences with Lucian’s character explicitly stating that the entire book is a work of fiction. This declaration, “I confidently pronounce that truthfully, I lie,” would have certainly disoriented his readership, as travelogs of that era invariably claimed to be factual. This meta-fictional approach immediately sets “A True Story” apart, marking it as a groundbreaking piece of literature that directly addresses its own artificiality.
Lucian uses his preface to openly criticize his contemporaries, whom he believed had corrupted the publishing business by fabricating outlandish stories to sell to an undiscriminating readership. While he refrains from naming specific authors, he assures his readers that the targets of his critique will become evident as the story unfolds. His humorous admission that he cannot “do any better” than to lie, yet endeavors to be more noble by openly admitting his falsehoods, is a brilliant stroke of satirical self-awareness. This honesty, paradoxically, serves to highlight the dishonesty prevalent in other works, making “A True Story” a meta-commentary on truth and deception in narrative.
The fictional journey itself begins with Lucian gathering a crew of 50 men and setting sail from the Pillars of Hercules, known today as the Strait of Gibraltar. Their initial voyage lasts for a day and a night before they are caught in a terrifying tempest. This storm endures for an astonishing 79 days, a period of immense trial for the crew. On day 80, the storm finally clears, and they discover a nearby island, offering a momentary respite before their truly bizarre adventures commence. Upon landing, a scouting party finds evidence of Hercules and Dionysus, including massive footprints, hinting at the fantastical elements to come.
A particularly memorable early encounter occurs when the crew discovers a river flowing with wine. The fish consumed from this river induce intoxication among the men, leading them upstream to find its source. There, they encounter grapevines remarkably shaped like women, speaking Greek and inviting kisses. Two lust-stricken voyagers embrace the tree-ladies, only to be snared by branches and transformed into trees themselves. This incident, while humorous, underscores the perils of succumbing to temptation and the unpredictable nature of the fantastical world Lucian constructs.
The Celestial Battlefield: Moon, Sun, and Venus
Following their escape from the tree-women island, Lucian’s ship is caught in a great whirlwind and thrust into outer space. This pivotal moment firmly establishes “A True Story” as the earliest known science fiction, as the crew raises their sails and catches a fair wind through the cosmos—a delightful anachronism that highlights the limited scientific understanding of the era. After seven days of space travel, they arrive at the Moon on the eighth day, encountering a society complete with cities and a peculiar police force.
Upon arrival, Lucian’s party is intercepted by the Hippogypenes, or Vulture-dragoons, men who ride on massive birds and serve as the Moon’s law enforcement. They are subsequently brought before King Endymion, a human ruler who, fortunately, speaks Greek. Endymion extends a warm welcome, but the Moon Kingdom is embroiled in a fierce war with the Sun Kingdom over the colonization of Venus. King Phaethon of the Sun had sent his ant-dragoons to Venus first, instigating the conflict. Lucian and his men, finding themselves with no other recourse, agree to join Endymion’s forces, being supplied with armor and giant vultures for aerial combat.
The ensuing space battle is described with an incredible array of bizarre and imaginative creatures, further cementing the work’s classification as early speculative fiction. A formidable army of 100,000 Moon soldiers, augmented by almost a million galactic allies, confronts Phaethon’s Sun army. The infantry includes grass-plooms (large birds with lettuce wings), vulture-dragoons, and archers riding elephant-sized fleas. Furthermore, island-sized spiders are commissioned to weave a massive web in space, forming a makeshift battlefield. One such spider, named Owlett Son of Fairweather, is given a specific, seemingly random name, which is interpreted by some as a subtle jab at contemporary authors who inserted superfluous details for perceived legitimacy.
Conversely, Phaethon’s Sun army consists of dragoons atop 200-foot-long ants, massive mosquitoes, men who hurl poisoned radishes, and those wielding asparagus spears as weapons, protected by mushroom shields. Puppycorns, representatives from the dog star, fight on the backs of winged acorns. Lucian humorously details the Sun army’s poor management, noting that slingers from the Milky Way failed to appear for the battle, and cloud centaurs arrived only after the conflict concluded. Phaethon’s furious response, sending a firestorm upon the slingers’ home world, is a prime example of Lucian’s satirical exaggeration, mirroring how trivial errors might be magnified in real-world political or military accounts.
Ultimately, the Moon Kingdom secures a glorious victory, resulting in many prisoners taken and numerous casualties. The volume of blood spilled during the conflict is so vast that the clouds themselves are dyed red, creating a striking image that is later likened to a sunset. This vivid description highlights Lucian’s imaginative scope, even when detailing the grotesque aspects of war.
Life on the Moon and Interplanetary Diplomacy
Following the Moon Kingdom’s triumph, Lucian and two companions are captured by the belated cloud centaurs and transported to the Sun, where they meet King Phaethon. Phaethon, in a display of his anger and power, resolves to construct a wall of clouds to physically separate the Sun from the Moon. However, Endymion, concerned for his kingdom’s continued existence in darkness, extends an offer of peace. After two days of intense deliberation, a treaty is forged: the Sunites agree to dismantle the dividing wall and release all prisoners of war, while the Moonites commit to leaving the stars unconquered. Both kingdoms further pledge mutual aid in case of attack, and Endymion agrees to an annual tribute of 10,000 gallons of dew to Phaethon. A joint colony on Venus is also established, solidifying the fragile peace between the celestial powers.
Upon their release, Lucian and his friends are returned to the Moon, where they are received as heroes. Endymion, wishing them to remain and join the new Venusian colony, even extends an offer of his own son’s hand in marriage. Lucian emphatically declines, observing, “There are no women on the moon.” This statement precipitates a detailed description of Moonite society and its peculiar reproductive process. Moon men, as Lucian explains, serve as wives for the first 25 years of their lives before transitioning to the role of husbands. Children are carried in the calf of the leg, rather than the belly, presenting a truly alien biological system that underscores Lucian’s inventive capacity for world-building.
Further details of Moonite life are equally fantastical: flying frogs, which are routinely plucked from the air and eaten fried, inhabit their world. All Moon men are described as being single-toed. Instead of snot, they have honey, and milk is secreted instead of sweat. Their bellies function as pockets, and their clothing is crafted from glass. Their eyes are removable, and their ears are fashioned from leaves. These specific, grotesque, and humorous characteristics serve to create a truly alien culture, pushing the boundaries of what might be considered human, while implicitly commenting on the absurdities of terrestrial life.
An intriguing piece of Moonite technology is a vast plane of glass positioned over a shallow well, capable of telegraphing events happening on Earth. Lucian utilizes this device to observe his family back home, employing a line that is surely another instance of satire: “If you think that I am lying, go there yourself, and you will see that I am telling the truth.” This defiant challenge is likely a direct mockery of the overly confident assertions often found in the fraudulent travelogs of his day. After a week of lunar exploration, Lucian and his crew depart, guided by Endymion’s royal guard back toward Earth.
The Return Journey and the Island of the Blessed
Their journey back to Earth leads them through Lamptown, a city literally inhabited by floating, sentient lamps. Each lamp bears the name of a person on Earth and delivers nightly reports of their assigned humans to a magistrate. A lamp’s failure to report or forsake its duty results in its flame being extinguished permanently. Lucian, locating his own lamp, inquires about his family’s welfare. The strangeness of Lamptown so unnerves the crew that they quickly depart, passing by the city of Cloud-Cuckoo-Town before a strong wind prevents a stop. Four days later, they reach a designated drop-off point and are lowered back to Earth.
Back on their home planet, the ocean is initially calm, allowing for two days of peaceful sailing. However, on the third day, their vessel is attacked and swallowed whole by a colossal whale, measuring an astounding 187 and one half miles long. Inside the whale’s belly, a complete world is discovered, teeming with forests, animals, and even existing civilizations. They encounter other shipwrecked seamen and discover six distinct kingdoms of fish people, all of whom are engaged in perpetual warfare. Lucian and his crew are inadvertently drawn into these belly wars, enduring this bizarre existence for almost two years. Ultimately, they devise an escape plan: by setting the internal forests on fire, they cause the whale’s demise over 13 days. Once dead, they manage to pry open a small crack in its mouth and sail out to freedom.
The adventures, however, are far from over. Following their escape from the whale, Lucian recounts a 30-day ordeal on frozen ice, a hunting expedition on a desert island, a voyage across a sea of milk, and a stop at an island made entirely of cheese. They encounter the cork-feet, beings who possess the ability to walk on water, before finally reaching the magnificent Island of the Blessed. This island, with its central city of gold and emerald walls, functions as a sort of afterlife kingdom, allowing Lucian to meet veterans of the Trojan War and witness celestial court cases.
He converses with renowned figures such as Pythagoras and Homer, alongside other significant philosophical and political figures from the past. Gossip about men like Socrates and Diogenes is exchanged, and a particularly “spicy” line is delivered regarding Plato: “Plato was not there. It was said that he was living in an imaginary city under the constitution and laws that he himself wrote.” This quip exemplifies Lucian’s pointed, referential humor, making light of a revered philosopher by implying he was stuck in his own idealistic, unachievable world. The sons of Greek gods are observed participating in various athletic competitions and even warfare. After six months on the island, a rebellion erupts over an extramarital affair involving key figures. Following its suppression, Lucian and his party are advised to leave before the rebels’ sentencing, a decision he laments. Rhadamanthus, a demigod, assures Lucian of a future return and points out six great islands in the distance, promising that after navigating these, he will eventually reach a great continent opposite his own, and in time, his homeland. He also provides Lucian with a marshmallow plant, instructing him to pray to it in times of trouble.
The remaining portion of “A True Story” details parts of the journey through these six great islands, where further horrors are encountered, and many more lives are lost. The narrative abruptly concludes mid-voyage between landmasses, with Lucian stating, “What happened on that island, I shall tell you in the next book.” This final, tantalizing cliffhanger is famously met with a disgruntled note in one surviving copy from a Greek scholar: “This is Lucian’s greatest lie of all,” confirming that a sequel to this earliest known science fiction was never penned, leaving readers to ponder the untold adventures. The enduring appeal of Lucian’s “A True Story” lies not only in its pioneering contribution to speculative fiction but also in its timeless satirical spirit, which continues to intrigue literary enthusiasts and historians alike.
Inquiries from the Interstellar Antiquity
What is “A True Story”?
“A True Story” is a 2nd-century Greek satire by Lucian of Samosata, considered the earliest known work of science fiction. It tells an absurd tale of space travel and fantastical encounters, designed to mock other popular stories of its time.
Who was Lucian of Samosata?
Lucian of Samosata was a prominent 2nd-century rhetorician and satirist in the Roman Empire. He was known for his exaggerated humor and his sharp wit, which he used to ridicule superstitions, religious beliefs, and influential figures.
When was “A True Story” written?
“A True Story” was written in the 2nd century, making it one of the oldest examples of speculative fiction. This predates many well-known science fiction authors by nearly two millennia.
What kind of adventures happen in “A True Story”?
The story involves wild adventures like a voyage to the Moon, where the crew participates in a war between lunar and solar kingdoms, and being swallowed by a giant whale to discover a world inside its belly. It’s full of bizarre creatures and fantastical lands.
What was Lucian trying to do by writing “A True Story”?
Lucian aimed to satirize the popular travelogs and philosophical debates of his time, which he felt had become overly sensationalized and dishonest. He openly declared his story a lie to highlight the falsehoods presented as truth in other contemporary works.