Ad Luna #6: The Essay, Part 4 – First Contact
Now we get to the interesting bit. ‘First contact’ is a tried and tested SF trope – we’re all used, at this point, to a nice juicy moral dilemma over how to treat an alien society with values totally different to our own. In stuff like Star Trek we usually end up with a nice civilised conversation; in other works there’s a nice bloody war.
I wonder which route Lucian will take?
(warning: this chapter is chunky.)
4 – First Contact
‘First Contact’ is a common science-fiction trope. Interactions with an alien society allow exploration of interactions with a very literal ‘other’, whether positive or negative. The trope has evolved considerably from the B-movie invasions of the 1960s; much modern SF presents complex, culture-focused stories of alien interaction. “The encounter with the alien is at the core of Star Trek”. Almost every episode presents human interactions with species both hostile and friendly, ‘othered’ by a key difference usually based on a real-life social issue (racism, sexism, etc.). The lesson of such episodes is often about cultural tolerance even of the alien – but just as often about the need for change even in long-ingrained cultural practices. In Lucian’s True History there are three ‘first contacts’, by which I mean in-depth alien interactions – encounters like those with the Vine-Women and Asslegs are superficial, ‘monster-of-the-week’ stories. These are Jean-Lucian’s civilised contact with the Selenites; his hostile contact with the fish-peoples within the Whale; and the initially hostile, then uneasily diplomatic contact with the Bullheads. In this chapter I will explore how these ‘first contacts’ compare to those presented in Trek, particularly the latter two instances. Trek’s aliens are often mirrors of earthly social groups and social issues – are Lucian’s aliens likewise reflective of real societies of the Second Sophistic? And do Jean-Lucian’s encounters with them reflect on real Roman interactions with other societies, as Viglas suggests, just as Trek mirrors more modern interactions?
To my surprise, I struggled to find specific episodes of Trek that deal with ‘civilised’ first contacts, because the assumed norm for interstellar diplomacy in the Federation is a more or less friendly interaction. Such interactions are seldom the focus of an episode because they are seldom exciting – good TV comes when interactions go awry. Federation relations with the Vulcans will be my benchmark for civilised relations in Trek, as will the TNG episode Darmok, depicting a difficult but ultimately amicable contact. TNG: Symbiosis and the movie Insurrection are excellent examples of unsuccessful interactions, of how advanced interference with primitive societies can go very badly wrong. For future attitudes to hostile aliens, I will rely on Trek’s Cardassians and Klingons; species embodying negative attitudes and characteristics, and representing real societies that were ‘othered’ by Trek’s contemporary viewers.
On the Moon
Jean-Lucian’s first ‘first contact’ is with the Selenites. Natives of the Moon, the Selenites, though initially hostile, are entirely civilised by Lucian’s standards. They are humanoid, differing physically only in a few – striking – ways; their leafy tails and ears, baldness, modular eyes, and of course the fact that they are all male. They are “cleaner and less corporeal” than humans, consuming only steam and dissolving into smoke on death, but despite their strangeness relations with the Selenites are overwhelmingly positive. King Endymion invites Jean-Lucian to go to war with him, offering the Romans weapons, accommodation, and even husbands. Like many modern aliens, the Selenites have advanced technology: “the clothing of the rich is malleable glass and that of the poor, spun bronze”, in addition to their impenetrable armour of lupine-skins. The Selenites anticipate a longstanding SF tradition of humanoid aliens, notably similar to Trek’s obsessively logical Vulcans. They too are humanoid, but for their pointed ears and a few internal differences. Like the Selenites, they differ to humans in their eating habits: they do not drink alcohol, eat meat or even touch their food with their hands; in their attitude to sex with the Pon Farr, and in their advanced technology. The difference of both the Selenites and Vulcans is defined not by their being totally unfamiliar but from being almost the same. The relatively minor differences in physical appearance are largely irrelevant; it is the striking inversions of the Selenite single gender, or Vulcan obsession with logic, that capture the imagination, being the opposite of what is familiar and human.
In SF, similarities in physicality and personality are often used to find common ground in first contact scenarios, before the implications of more significant differences are explored through cognitive estrangement. Such comparison by analogy has been a key part of any ethnography, fictional or otherwise, since long before Lucian’s time; long before even Herodotus. The Vulcans, like the Selenites, are humanity’s first encounter with the alien in the Trek universe – and the audience’s first encounter too, through Mr Spock in the first episodes of TOS. Stories featuring the logical, emotionless Vulcans allow the exploration of human emotional responses, just as Klingon stories allow us to explore humanity’s aggressiveness. In the same way, Lucian’s description of Selenite sexuality and procreation opens up questions about human relationships and attitudes to gender – which I will discuss in-depth in a subsequent chapter. Lucian “translates the difference” between alien and human through the “handy figure of inversion”; in this he follows Herodotus, and Trek and much modern SF follows him.
In an episode filled with terrifying monsters (the giant ants and mosquitoes of Phaethon’s solar army, Endymion’s three-headed vultures, and spiders the size of islands), the near-human Selenites are a reassuring sight to Lucian’s readers and Jean-Lucian’s crew. This familiarity, however, goes beyond physical resemblance, as shown by the book’s very first dialogue, from Endymion to Jean-Lucian: “Then you are Greeks, are you, strangers?” Endymion, unlike his subjects, is human – specifically Greek, able to converse with Lucian’s crew in Greek, a language that was, in Roman eyes, even more civilised than Latin, being the language of the elite and of high culture. Selenites themselves are not human, but their king, exemplar of their society and customs, is, and in speaking Greek to Jean-Lucian’s crew, Endymion marks himself and his society as learned and intelligent; a sister culture to that of Rome. In both Trek and the TH, humans and aliens are able to recognise one another’s ‘civilised’ qualities, sharing a sense of honour, logic, or, in Lucian’s case, language. I would compare Selenite society not to the savage peoples of ancient histories’ borderlands, but to Herodotus’ Egypt – a strange land of wondrous thoma, but still recognisably civilised. Though Herodotus’ Egyptians might be “opposite to other men in almost all matters”, they are, like his Greek audience, “learned in history”, and even share a common religious heritage. From this starting-point of similarity, Herodotus’ readers can relate far more easily to the more pronounced differences of Egyptian society. So too can Captain Picard and Trek’s viewers become used to the Tamarians, connecting through a shared cultural reliance on the exemplars of myth, and so too can Lucian’s readers begin to appreciate Selenite society, connecting via the Greek language. Lucian’s Selenites are ‘other’, but not radically so; their otherness is emphasised through inversion, but their civility is emphasised through commonality – unlike some of Lucian’s more barbarous aliens.
In the Whale
The TH’s second developed alien encounter is with the tribes of fish-people (hereafter the ‘Aquatics’) who live within the Whale. Like the Selenites, the Aquatics are physically different to humans. The Broilers are “eel-eyed” and lobster-faced”; the Mergoats are half-catfish, and the names of the Crabclaws and Codheads have clear physiological implications. The overall impression is distinctly ugly, in keeping with Scintharus’ negative description – where the Selenites are ethereal and beautiful, and therefore civilised, the Aquatics are ugly, bestial, and therefore barbarous. In Trek, species like the ridge-headed, sharp-toothed Klingons and the low-browed Nausicaans evoke the appearances of primitive humans even as they demonstrate ‘primitive’ characteristics of excessive aggression. Such aliens are relatable to a human audience while remaining demonstrably and physically ‘other’ – and, in this case inferior. Exaggerated physical characteristics were likewise connected to primitive societies in classical ethnography; consider Herodotus’’ Libyans; all dwarfs and wizards; or Tacitus’ colossal, “wild” Germans. Animal characteristics were generally reserved for those peoples beyond the borders of the known world, such as the animal-bodied Hellusii and Oxiones of Germany. Deviation from the human norm, especially through animalistic imagery and characteristics, denotes barbarity in both the Roman and modern imaginations.
Socially, the Aquatics are not far behind the Selenites, despite Scintharus’ insistence to the contrary. Though tribal, Aquatic society is organised – tribes forge alliances, employ diplomats, and even collect taxes! But they are less advanced than Second Sophistic Rome, roughly equivalent to Rome’s early years as a city-state. ‘Savage’ may be a little strong, but they are less ‘civilised’ than the Romans and the Selenites; not only physically barbarous but socially inferior. In Trek, even a primitive civilisation would be treated respectfully, thanks to the non-intervention doctrine of the Prime Directive. Jean-Lucian and his crew, however, subscribe to a different philosophy. On the strength of a single conversation with Scintharus, they go forth into the Whale and commit genocide, wiping out every one of the Aquatic tribes save the Mergoats, who escape into the ocean – ignoring the tribes’ diplomatic overtures and requests for a truce. This is not a necessary conflict – Scintharus and Cinryas have lived for 27 years within the Whale without incident, and the Aquatics are willing to ally with Jean-Lucian’s crew. In order to live “a life of luxury”, however, Jean-Lucian’s crew forego any attempt at friendship and leap straight into slaughter. While the 20th and 21st centuries have been far from free of genocides and bloody wars, such an action as Lucian’s could never be presented as morally justifiable in modern SF, or indeed any media. The Second Sophistic’s values, however, seem to have been very different. Why, and how?
As a primitive and ‘barbarian’ society, the Aquatics are, in Roman eyes, inferior. Rome spent many centuries conquering barbarians like the Gauls and Britons, Dacians and bringing them under Rome’s civilising aegis. There was no better thing to be than Roman, and thus barbarian societies, through Rome’s influence, could be ‘civilised’ and improved. Ancient authors debated the morality of this influence; Tacitus calls Rome’s civilised trappings as “enslavement”, but such change was frequently imposed regardless. Such attitudes are reflected in Trek’s Cardassians; oppressors of the less-advanced Bajorans, they are assured of their own superiority as a species to the point of arrogance. The Cardassians and other species mirror the colonial exploitation of Trek’s contemporary world; the US was and had been heavily involved in the Middle East and Vietnam; but TNG presented a vision of the future free of such imperialism at its very beginning. Encounter at Farpoint revolves around Picard’s defence of humanity, seen as a “savage child race” for its historical abuses by the godlike Q, and his efforts to prove that humanity had changed for the better by the 24th century – and, by implication, could improve from its state in the 20th. The Prime Directive showcases this anti-imperialist attitude. Even well-intentioned interference with a less advanced culture is forbidden, for fear of abuses like Starfleet’s exploitation of the primitive Baku in pursuit of immortality in Insurrection. In contrast Romans “were accustomed to dictate to those whom they conquered”, to dominate them, even – perhaps especially – in the Second Sophistic. Just before Lucian’s birth, Trajan, in his “unrestrained ambition”, undertook Rome’s greatest territorial expansion, pushing into Parthia and Dacia, but during Lucian’s life Marcus Aurelius undertook his own expansions, attempting to conquer multiple barbarian cultures. Aurelius tangled with the Parthians and also extended Rome’s German frontier, his initial efforts to secure the border transforming into designs on two new provinces. In an episode strikingly similar to Jean-Lucian’s deeds within the Whale, Aurelius ignored peace envoys sent by the barbarian Iazyges, not only conquering their lands but wishing “to annihilate them utterly” simply “because he knew their race to be untrustworthy”. Though this accusation may not be entirely accurate, Dio’s history certainly implies that Aurelius, like Jean-Lucian, looked down on his barbarian opponents because “their race” was inferior to the civilised culture of Rome.
Jean-Lucian’s genocide of the Aquatics seems too similar to Marcus Aurelius’ attempted conquests, especially that of the Iazyges, to be coincidental: I believe him to be mirroring this real conflict in the conflict within the Whale. Even if Lucian did not intend to create this specific real-world allegory, his characters’ genocide is certainly a general mirror to Roman conquests of less advanced peoples and countries. There is no remorse shown for the brutality of Jean-Lucian’s deeds within the Whale, but nor is there any gloating, any revelling in the slaughter. This lack of emotive language makes it difficult to tell whether Lucian’s mirroring is a critique or endorsement of Rome’s expansionism; unlike Trek, where characters discuss misgivings and feelings openly, Lucian follows the impersonal tradition of the histories he is parodying. In his “precursive reference to the ‘colonial era’”, Lucian appears to be encouraging his audience to consider the morality of real-world conflicts through their response to his fictional ones – but unlike Trek, explicit in suggesting answers for its moral questions, Lucian seems to leave the decision in the hands of his audience.
At Sea
Lucian’s third extended alien encounter is with the Bullheads. Effectively Minotaurs, the Bullheads capture, kill and eat three of Jean-Lucian’s crew while they are searching for food. In retaliation their comrades kill fifty Bullheads, and take prisoners. This stalemate is resolved by an exchange of the hostages for supplies, and an uneasy truce until the Romans leave; an exchange conducted, strikingly, without the use of a common language. Like the Aquatics, the Bullheads possess animal characteristics, supporting Lucian’s description of them as ‘savage’, a moniker cemented by their cannibalism. Cannibalism was a negative trait assigned to many barbarians in classical ethnography: Herodotus accuses the Central Asian Issedonians and the Androphagi of cannibalism; Strabo the Scythians; and Diodorus both the Egyptians and some distant Gauls. Though both Strabo and Diodorus remain “neutral ethnographer(s)” in their language, cannibalism is still clearly intended as a ‘barbarian’ trait. Cannibalism’s negative connotations are also present in Trek: Discovery’s Klingons eat human flesh, consuming the body of Captain Georgiou as a symbol of victory. Again, this is not technically cannibalism, as the Klingons are not human, but eating the flesh of any sentient species still carries a weight of disgust that is not lost on the audience. The Bullheads, in committing cannibalism, are elevated to a level of barbarity beyond that of the Aquatics.
The fact that the Bullheads speak no human language makes them unique among the many aliens of the TH, and the fact that their language cannot be translated is unusual even in modern SF, including Trek. While real ‘first contacts’ often involved significant language difficulties, as the 1933 Leahy expedition discovered, in SF the communication barrier usually does nothing but get in the way of a narrative; if language is a problem it is normally for a specific plot purpose. In Enterprise, struggles with the early universal translator – a staple SF plot convenience – are a convenient way to show how the inferiority of the prequel’s technology. TNG’s Darmok features another language barrier, but the overcoming of that barrier leads to a deeper mutual understanding between the Federation and the Tamarians. In the classical period “historians rarely concerned themselves with language problems”; again because difficulties in understanding were usually irrelevant unless a specific point needed to be made. Any language save Greek or Latin was ‘barbarian’, but lowing like cattle as the Bullheads do is more primitive by far. The fact that Jean-Lucian’s crew are ultimately able to communicate conveys a positive message, similar to that of Darmok – there is potential for understanding and even friendship with even the most alien cultures, with time and effort.
The Bullheads, then, are more barbarous, primitive, and hostile by far than the Aquatics Jean-Lucian had already defeated. Why, then, does he not simply wipe out the Bullheads too? This time the Romans actually have a justification; revenge for their three losses; but instead of making war, Jean-Lucian makes peace, despite his crew’s objections, in a diplomatic solution inconsistent with the established Roman attitude to the alien Lucian presents in the Whale. Why? Because unlike the Aquatics, the Bullheads are capable of fighting back! The Aquatics, armed with bones, were utterly outmatched by Roman steel and Selenite lupine-skin armour – but the Bullheads are far more capable, a few of them killing three crewmen where a thousand Aquatics slew just one. Faced with an even fight, Jean-Lucian becomes cautious. The Romans are less willing to fight when the enemy can fight back; in such scenarios diplomacy appears the preferred option. Like the Whale, this episode may be mirroring Marcus Aurelius’ German border wars – but at a different time. After initial hostility and fighting in 170, by 171 Aurelius was meeting German envoys and pursuing alliances; here, just as in the TH, Romans resort to diplomacy against an enemy too strong to simply overwhelm. That diplomacy might not have lasted long (within the year Aurelius was once again at war), but the comparison still seems apt: Jean-Lucian’s crew leave the Bullheads’ island before their fragile treaty can break down, but had they stayed it surely would have done. In this episode Lucian’s estrangement takes a cautionary course. The overcoming of the language barrier tells Lucian’s audience that even the most barbaric societies can be worth the effort of prolonged interaction – but the brutality of the Bullheads warns them to be careful about how they treat ‘lesser’ societies. This two-pronged message, backed up by the prior contacts with the Selenites and Aquatics, creates a complex web of mirrors for Lucian’s audience, reflecting not only on real conquests and their morality but also on Roman attitudes towards the barbarian and the ‘other’ in general.
Friendly, diplomatic contact with a society strikingly similar to Lucian’s own on the Moon; an aggressive assault on a less sophisticated, barbarian society in the Whale; an uneasy truce with a stronger barbarian foe on the ocean; these three ‘first contact’ scenarios each mirror different aspects of Rome’s interactions with other societies and nations. Friendly negotiations with the Selenites suggest to Lucian’s audience that the seemingly alien may be closer to reality than one might think, and encourages his readers to look for these points of commonality in their own lives. The brutal genocide of the Aquatics echoes Rome’s dominance over its ‘barbarian’ neighbours – whether Lucian’s message is an endorsement of such an attitude or a critique is unclear, but the reflection remains. The encounter with the Bullheads reinforces and elaborates on all these themes: an example of how common ground can be found even with the truly alien, but also warning Lucian’s audience that even ‘barbarians’ can fight back. Lucian’s presentation of ‘first contact’ is strikingly similar to various first contacts in Star Trek: both works use encounters with the alien to explore attitudes to the ‘other’ in the society of their respective audiences.
Roberts, New Critical Idiom, p.75
Viglas, p.165
Harmon’s translation of ‘Moonites’ is clumsy; I will be following Jules Verne’s nomenclature throughout this essay.
Lucian, 1.22-26
Ní-Mheallaig, p.219
ibid, p.277
ibid, p.279
ibid, p.265
Their blood, for instance, is green: TOS 1.6: The Naked Time, dir. Marc Daniels (29/9/1966), 0:05.20 – 0:05:38
ENT 1.8: Breaking the Ice, dir. Terry Windell (7/11/2001), 0:22:30
ENT 1.1: Broken Bow, dir. James L. Conway (26/9/2001), 0:24:49 – 0:25:07
During which Vulcans are compelled to mate – or die: TOS 2.5: Amok Time, dir. Joseph Pevney (15/9/1967), 0:16:07 – 0:17:04
Hartog, p.225
In both pilots, and the first episode actually aired, Spock is the first alien shown on-screen: TOS: The Cage, dir. Robert Butler (4/10/1988), 0:01:00; 1.3: Where No Man Has Gone Before, dir. James Goldstone (22/9/1966), 0:00:24; 1.1: The Man Trap, dir. Marc Daniels (8/9/1966), 0:00:11
Hartog, p.213
Lucian, 1.16
ibid, 1.11
ibid, 1.15
ibid, 1.11
Balsdon, p.138
Hartog, p.233
Herodotus, Histories, book 2, 35
ibid, 2.77
ibid, 2.51
TNG 5.2: Darmok, dir. Winrich Kolbe (30/9/1991), 0:35:15 – 0:38:07
Lucian, 1.35
Herodotus, 2.32-33
Tacitus, Germania, 4
ibid, 46
Lucian, 1.35
ibid, 1.36
ibid, 1.39
Tacitus, Agricola, 21
DS9 6.11: Waltz, dir. Rene Auberjonois (3/1/1998), 0:37:21 – 0:37:50
TNG 1.1-2: Encounter at Farpoint, dir. Corey Allen (28/9/1987), 0:08:22 – 0:08:49
TNG 1.21: Symbiosis, dir. Win Phelps (18/4/1988), 0:42:53 – 0:43:22
Star Trek: Insurrection, dir. Jonathan Frakes (Paramount Pictures, 1998), 0:51:19 – 0:54:46
Caesar, Gallic War, book 1, 36
Lepper, F.A, Trajan’s Parthian War (Oxford University Press, 1948), p.198
Viglas, p.159
Birley, p.209, p.253
Cassius Dio, Roman History, Book 72, 13
Birley, p.183
Viglas, p.165
Lucian, 2.44
Technically they are not cannibals, of course – the Bullheads are not human – but the effect on the audience is the same.
Herodotus, 4.26 (Issedonians); 4.106 (Androphagi)
Strabo, Geography, book 7, chapter 3, 6
Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica, book 1, chapter 84, 1 (Egyptians); 5.32.3 (Gauls)
Gruen, p.144-5
DIS 1.4: The Butcher’s Knife Cares Not For The Lamb’s Cry, dir. Olatunde Osunsanmi (8/10/2017), 0:11:12 – 0:11:21
“we didn’t know a word of their language, we had no means of communication…”: Connolly & Anderson, First Contact (Dick Smith Adventure Pic, 1982), 0:13:49
TNG Darmok, 0:40:57 – 0:42:32
Balsdon, p.138
ibid, p.141
Birley, p.169
ibid, p.171
