Vampires for the Atomic Age: Leiber and Kornbluth Short Masterpieces
Hey, trick-or-treaters, for some rockin’ good, scary Halloween fun, there’s nothing quite like sinking your teeth into a good vampire story or two. And whaddya know? I just happen to have a couple of lulus for you right here in The RGG. But the terrifying creations stalking these particular Fritz Leiber and C.M. Kornbluth short, post-WWII works are unlike any vampire that’s come before or after them. These creatures are, in a very literal sense, products of their time, and the fear they inspire is acutely reflective of that time. No, these are not your average ordinary bloodsuckers. On the contrary, they are vampires for the Atomic Age.
Hey there, late night readers and trick-or-treaters, welcome to this week’s spooky-cool RGG offering! Halloween is here, along with all of its atmospheric accoutrements: an autumnal chill to the air, soon-to-be-skeletonized trees, the haunting light of a gibbous moon, werewolves, witches, warlocks, goblins, ghosts, and, last but definitely not least, the lurking menace of those storied crepuscular red corpuscle imbibers themselves… vampires! Never give a (blood)sucker an even break? Are you kidding? Two of the 20th century’s most skilled and celebrated American yarn spinners are here, each with a frightening short tale featuring its own particular brand of vampire. And, not only are those vampires the headliners of their respective tales, they don’t even drink blood.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before we get to the stories and the vampires, it’s important to understand a bit about the period during which both these stories were written, and in which both are set: just about the exact middle of the 20th century – within the decade or so following the final days of WWII, aka, the Atomic Age.
This period in history, which began with the US military’s detonation of the world’s first nuclear weapon in July of 1945 at the Trinity test in New Mexico, USA, saw resultant accelerated, acute societal reactions and adaptations in America, and throughout the world. The horrific nuclear immolation of the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki the following month was burned as a soul-riving afterimage into global humanity’s collective psyche forever, while the scientific community and its underwriters – the atomic fire bearers – touted the unparalleled economic and sociopolitical potential arising from the responsible harnessing of the atom’s devastating, undiscriminating power. In the United States, a dichotomous societal mindset, informed by undeniable Promethean underpinnings, arose in the years following the twin decimating, war-ending nuclear events in Japan. The assurance of nuclear power’s potential and capability, and the confidence that America could and would wield it judiciously, manifested itself in the productive output – and the unbridled consumption – of and by popular culture’s assertive and highly creative entrepreneurial vanguard and its adoring audience, respectively. In late 1940s and early 1950s America, sleek and deadly technology bred gleaming optimism and shining avarice. But always present in the corner of America’s collective conscience was the undercurrent of horror inspired by atomic power’s destructive capability – as insidious as the grim effects of radiation poisoning itself, the ineffable fear of atomic destruction coursed through the country at its cellular level. American literature at the time, particularly within the genres of horror and science fiction, was very much aware of both the bright, shining optimism, and the dark, stark terror inspired by the harnessing of the atom’s inner fire. The late 40s and 50s saw a host of authors exploring the duality of this theme, but, in my opinion, few, if any, were as adept at its elucidation as Fritz Leiber and C.M. Kornbluth.
And now, Halloween lovers, we’ve not only arrived at the writers, we’re also at the point of introduction to their respective vampires, and the brilliant, terrifying stories each of them haunts.
You asked for it, scaredy cats and kittens, and now you’re really going to get it… two vampires for the Atomic Age comin’ right up!
Fritz Reuter Leiber Jr. (December 24, 1910 – September 5, 1992) is one of the most highly regarded, most celebrated, and most awarded writers of 20th century American horror, fantasy, and science fiction. Over the course of his career, Leiber’s works were winners of multiple Hugo Awards, World Fantasy Awards, and a Nebula Award, and in 1988, the Horror Writers Association named Leiber himself the winner of the Bram Stoker Award for Lifetime Achievement. In 2001, Leiber was posthumously inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame.
Leiber’s narrative skills from any number of fiction’s established points of view are incomparable, and his ability to effortlessly combine colloquialism with erudition in his prose is uncanny. Stylistically, and in terms of subject matter, he was very heavily influenced by H.P. Lovecraft, and for a period of time, enjoyed a fairly intense collaborative level of correspondence with him.
But I think that it was Leiber’s comparatively intimate knowledge of the mechanisms of war (he worked for Douglas Aircraft during WWII) that informed his comprehension of nuclear technology’s impact on American society’s collective mindset. Leiber understood the Promethean dichotomy of over-inflated societal confidence and indulgence born of nuclear capability’s possibilities, and the lurking terror inherent in its misuse and abuse. He saw society’s topical glitter and gluttony, and he saw its underbelly of horror.
And it’s within the context of this juxtaposition that Fritz Leiber wrote “The Girl with the Hungry Eyes” (published in 1949). You’ve probably concluded that the story’s titular character is one of the two vampires for the Atomic Age that I’ve been going on about in this review. But in his very frightening short tale, Leiber uses the term “vampire” in only two sentences, and in doing so, he relieves the reader of any preconceived notions of bloodsucking, fangs, bats, or anything else that may have, in the case of this vampire, been incorrectly pinned to the term.
The story’s narrator is a down-on-his luck photographer trying unsuccessfully to make a living shooting spreads of female models for various clients’ ad campaigns. It’s the sudden appearance in his darkening studio one dismal afternoon of a very unlikely new model – the title character – that changes the narrator’s financial luck, and leads him on a terrifying journey of discovery, and to a horrific, inescapable conclusion about his model’s true nature.
The flash and glitz of the late 1940s’ world of advertising, and the dizzying heights of societal materialism and consumer avarice, as related by Leiber in this gem of a story, serve as effective illustration of the Atomic Age’s promise of nuclear-powered, multi-caste success and its galvanizing effect on American society’s ersatz overconfidence and very real, covetous overindulgence. And, as a metaphorical ratification of the undercurrent of fear of nuclear annihilation flowing – simmering – just beneath this veneer of optimism, the girl with the hungry eyes and her unholy appetite supply a merciless, evil denouement in answer to an inflamed consuming public’s unrelieved wanting.
Leiber weaves this terrifying short story with his remarkable, almost understated prose in a comparatively few number of pages, and in doing so develops a fully compelling protagonist, a mysterious, almost ethereal, waif of a monster, and an irresistably fascinating interplay between them. “The Girl with the Hungry Eyes” is one hell of a scary, brilliantly written short story.
Cyril M. Kornbluth (July 2, 1923 – March 21, 1958), like Fritz Leiber, was a giant in the world of 20th century American literature. And like Leiber, he was a master within the genres of horror, fantasy, and science fiction. Unlike Leiber, his enormous body of work spanned a wide range of genres, including comedy.
Few writers, if any, have ever matched Kornbluth’s elegant, highly literate style. Also brilliant in his own ability to write from multiple points of view (often within the same story, and always in seamless, perfectly effective fashion), Kornbluth manages to render a textual symphony from his prose, delivering his subject matter – whether the prosaic, the humorous, or the terrifying – in what so many critics (yours truly included) consider to be among the smoothest and most elegant fashion of any writer, past or present. There’s nothing quite like a C.M. Kornbluth work – his style is unmistakable and his mastery of the written word’s efficacy is unrivaled. In short, Kornbluth is a literary genius. His life was cut short at the age of thirty-four, and it’s impossible for me to imagine the scope and breadth of his brilliant oeuvre had he lived longer. Upon C.M. Kornbluth’s untimely death, the promise of an endless array of literary classics was lost to the world.
Kornbluth’s familiarity with the horrors of WWII and the nuclear punctuation at its end was intimate. He served in the US Army during the war and was a decorated hero, receiving a Bronze Star for his actions in the Battle of the Bulge. The Atomic Age, along with its awesome and frightful impetus, was, as a subject, a causal agent in a number of Kornbluth’s works, including the story du jour, “The Mindworm” (published in 1950). In fact, the evil titular creature of this terrifyingly fascinating short work owes his very existence to a specific explosive demonstration of the broken atom’s irradiating power.
In this story, Kornbluth elegantly and smoothly marries the horrific realities of modern, bellicose technology’s destructive reach with allusions to an ancient culture’s beliefs and superstitions, and in doing so creates a beautifully wrought masterwork that fascinates and enthralls. And terrifies. The monstrous Mindworm is indeed vampiric, but is so in a way that completely defies any superficial semblance of the age-old archetype. In pure sociopathic fashion, this sinister creation cuts a nationwide swath of heartwrenching death that beguiles and confounds those left alive in its wake, with the surprising exception of an incongruously savvy few. The story’s conclusion is unforgettable. Simply put, “The Mindworm” is a classic work of 20th century American literature – it’s purely a masterpiece.
So, “How do I get my mitts on these spooky reads?” you ask. Worry not, fans of fright, because I’m recommending two incredible collections of each of these brilliant writers’ works. Fritz Leiber: Selected Stories and His Share of Glory: The Complete Short Science Fiction of C.M. Kornbluth not only feature “The Girl with the Hungry Eyes” and “The Mindworm,” respectively, they each contain a treasure trove of additional classics by each of these giants of 20th century American horror, fantasy, and science fiction writings. And more good news: you can order these amazing collections right here, directly from Amazon. Just keep scrolling, screaming meemies-seekers, and you’ll see the advertisement links directly below. These collections will get you a serious dosage of vampires for the Atomic Age. Here you go…
Fritz Leiber: Selected Stories, Hardcover Edition. “The Girl with the Hungry Eyes” is just one of the 17 classic Leiber tales of horror, fantasy, and science fiction contained in this astounding collection. Other masterpieces in this volume include the eerie, ethereal “Smoke Ghost,” the gruesomely alarming “Bazaar of the Bizarre,” and the creepy, darkly funny “A Deskful of Girls,” to name just a few. Also available in paperback. To learn more, or to order directly from Amazon, click the #advertisement link.
Fritz Leiber: Selected Stories, Kindle Edition. “The Girl with the Hungry Eyes” and all of the other greats from the hardcover and paperback editions in ebook form. To learn more, or to order directly from Amazon, click the #advertisement link.
His Share of Glory: The Complete Short Science Fiction of C.M. Kornbluth, Hardcover Edition. You’ll get a hell of a lot more than just vampires for the Atomic Age with this remarkable collection of 56 brilliant C.M. Kornbluth works. In addition to such unforgettable classics as “Two Dooms,” “That Share of Glory,” and of course, “The Mindworm,” there are 8 lesser known, but no less brilliant early “To Spec” Kornbluth works, and an illuminating and highly personal Forward by Kornbluth’s close friend, colleague, and collaborator, Frederik Pohl. For learning about the man behind the fiction, and for a veritable smorgasbord of examples from his extensive horror, fantasy, and science fiction oeuvre, and for meeting the malevolent Mindworm himself, there’s simply not a better collection available. Click the #advertisement link to learn more, or to order it directly from Amazon.
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His Share of Glory: The Complete Short Science Fiction of C.M. Kornbluth, Audible Edition. All the stories from the hardcover edition in Amazon Audible format. Far out, kids… Vampires for the Atomic Age nibbling on your ear. Can you dig it? Click the #advertisement link to learn more, or to order directly from Amazon.
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Okey dokey, artichokies, we’re at the end of our introductions, and now you’ve got a line on where you can go to experience the full-on malevolence of Fritz Leiber’s and C.M. Kornbluth’s terrifying vampiric creations. Right here, I’m going to steal part of one of the lines from the Leiber work and confirm that indeed there are vampires and vampires… but the worst kind are vampires from the Atomic Age. Read “The Girl with the Hungry Eyes” and “The Mindworm” and tell me if I’m wrong.
Happy Halloween!
(And, of course… Cheers, and Happy Gardening!)
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Fritz Leiber was a very nice man. I had the good fortune to meet him at a science fiction convention a few years before he passed. He was very gracious and talked to everyone he met. About an hour later, my friends and I went to a local restaurant to have lunch. We sat in a large booth.
The next thing I know, Fritz and a few of his sci fi friends came into the restaurant. He saw me and waved. I waved back. Then he told the waiter that he wanted to be in the booth next to us – so all 5 or 6 of them crammed themselves into that booth.
They spent the next hour talking – talking – talking. Since Fritz wanted our participation in the discussion – he sat up and the padded space between our two booths – so he could talk to his friends – but also include us in the conversation. That was so special.
After we left to walk back to the science fiction convention, my one friend remarked about how I had made such an impression on Fritz Leiber.
Wow, Annie – absolutely amazing! What a wonderful story! Fritz Leiber was a true giant of 20th century American fiction – he’s actually one of my own literary heroes. The story of the experience your friends and you shared with Mr. Leiber and his friends is one to be shared, and shared again. I’m so glad you’ve included this wonderful experience in your comments, Annie. I’m honored to immortalize it right here for posterity. I’m entirely serious: this was truly a once in a lifetime experience. Once again, I’m honored that you’ve chosen to relate it here. Thank you once more, Annie.
Great review, they both sound like good reads, so I ordered them both. Just in time for Halloween!
Many thanks, Kevin – I really appreciate that. I’m glad you enjoyed the reviews – the stories are excellent. You won’t be disappointed by them or any of the other stories in those collections. Leiber and Kornbluth are masters. They’re absolutely brilliant. Thanks again, Kevin.
Hi, John. Thank you for the review. I have a bunch of books on my “to read” stack. I will add these to it and also alert my bookclub, Read Between the Vines. We might have to hold back on drinking the wine while reading these frightening stories.
~Lane
Thanks for reading the review, Lane, and thanks for commenting. Also, I’m glad your passing the recs on to your book club – love that name! Honestly, the stories are definitely frightening, but I think it’s the quality of the writing that was my main takeaway. Brilliant authors, these two. Definitely. Thanks again, Lane!
Very enticing introduction. Perfectly timed for Halloween.
Thanks for reading the review, Rick. And thank uou for the kind words. Each of these writer’s respective oeuvres is remarkable, but these two stories really packed a unique and powerful punch. I hope you’ll enjoy reading them. Thanks once again, Rick.
Absolutely loved this article..,
Perfect time of the year for a vampire creepy story…
I actually love vampire stories all year round!
I will definitely read them 🎃🙏
Thank you so much for reading the review, Roxxy, and for your very kind words. These stories are incredibly well written, and definitely very frightening. As a fan of vampire stories, reading these two should make your Halloween this year a memorable one. Thanks once again, Roxxy!
Super article. That’s whetted my appetite, might have to order a cushion to hide behind when reading though…
Thank you so much, Sam, for reading and for commenting. These two authors are giants in 20th century American literature, each with an incredible body of work. The two stories I’ve reviewed here, however, I thought really stood out. Each is brilliantly rendered and extremely creepy. The cushion idea sounds like a really good one – thanks again!