“I think that they have done a terrible thing. They have killed the man in man.”
Imagine taking a trip so long that when you get back absolutely everything is "Curtains for Zoosha? K-smog and Batboy caught flipping a grunt.” Alternatively, imagine watching an octogenarian who had never been anywhere other than rural Oklahoma try to navigate Tokyu Kabukicho Tower. Yet another alternative, imagine a sci-fi “kids these days” screed lasting many pages. This is how Stanislaw Lem’s Return from the Stars initially struck me, with its main character Hal Bregg returning to Earth after a 127 year mission away (thanks to time dilation). In the book’s opening Bregg is dropped off in a labyrinthine transportation hub and navigates it impressively badly.
Eventually, though, this kafkaesque starting sequence ends, and it became clear that I had at least partially misinterpreted Return from the Stars based on its opening. This would not be a hundreds-of-pages-long rant against the degeneracy of the younger generation (which would have been especially weird considering that Lem was only 40 when this book was published). Instead, I thought the book was shaping up to be a work of dystopian sci-fi, thanks to almost all humans except Bregg and his fellow expedition members having gone through a process called betrization that has left them mentally and spiritually neutered. Sure, it prevents all violence and has rendered Earth into a place of universal peace and comfort, but it has also atrophied the human spirit, the urge to explore, invent, to push boundaries and do what no one has done before. Bregg was primed to rebel against this society, and would be able to use his ability to commit violence to overthrow a system that had amputated its ability to effectively stand against him. See also the Sylvester Stallone movie Demolition Man.
Again, though, my attempt to categorize Return from the Stars failed, as no grand revolution was forthcoming. What the book ends up being, as only becomes clear over halfway through it, is the story of a man with severe PTSD. During his expedition Bregg had to endure traumatic experiences that have transformed him, so that upon his return he cannot relate to the people who stayed behind. Not only are they so very different from him in terms of their experiences, but their lack of fundamental damage and inability to even conceptualize what he has done makes them seem like a whole different species. Appropriately, then, the final chapters of Return from the Stars focus on Bregg finally opening up about his trauma, and also managing to finally come home in some small way.
Quite an unexpected journey, in the end, though I should not be surprised at the book bucking my expectations since it came from the author of Solaris—indeed, Return from the Stars and Solaris were published in the same year. However, while unpredictably is a virtue, it’s much less of one when it is due to the disjointed nature of the narrative like it is in this book. Even if the book had a more effectively structured plot, so much of it is taken up by strange passages that it would inevitably remain muddled. Between extensive descriptions of futuristic theme park rides, to a tangent about the future society being built upon the ongoing mass murder of sentient robots that ends up going nowhere, to the borderline nonsensical initial conversation that Bregg has with (his soon-to-be subjugated wife and non-character) Eri, there are a whole lot of questionable additions in Return from the Stars. And this is without getting into Bregg’s drive to violence, both sexual and otherwise, which makes it seem like the future was on to something with betrization, which I can’t imagine is what Lem intended.
Return from the Stars has other good points too, though, for instance it’s thought-provoking like Lem’s books so often are, and made more so when you realize that with the book having been published in 1961, here in the last days of 2025 Bregg would be halfway through his 127 year journey. As a predictive work the book is a mixed bag, with Lem predicting some things like screens playing advertisements being everywhere, e-readers, connected networks of information, and robots being tasked with both the dangerous and tedious jobs. On the other hand, hotels still use guest books, and people use a strange physical chit machine for transactions even though credit cards were already in use in the U.S. well before Lem published this book. It’s an interesting version of the future, though it primarily serves as a way to emphasize how isolated and other Bregg is in this brave new world, rather than a prediction by Lem of what the future would really look like. The book reads very quickly as well.
Of the two books by Lem published in 1961 Solaris is by far the better of the two, though Return from the Stars is interesting as well. I wish, however, that it had been more cohesive and streamlined, since as it stands I wouldn’t quite call it a mess but would certainly say that it’s messy. 3/5.