What do you think of when you hear the words Sci-Fi? Chances are, the words inspire images such as the one above, of nightmarish landscapes featuring clogged streets, flying cars, neon lights and massive skyscrapers. Or possibly you’re partial to the more utopian visions, with space travel, beautiful arcologies and happy shiny people who want for nothing and treat each other with peace and civility.
All good, but chances are, no one thinks of medieval literature from the Islamic world when they hear that term. Chances are no one thinks of anything other than the industrial age, of men like H.G Wells and Jules Verne. For most of us, these are the people who pioneered the field of science fiction, no doubt about it. But amongst scholarswho specialize in tracing literary genres to their roots, one book stands out as the possible progenitor of them all; a little known novel by the name of Theologus Autodidactus.
Outside of antiquarians and theologists, not many people have heard of this story, and up until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t either. So you can imagine my surprise when I learned about it. To me, science fiction was not something that could have predated the scientific revolution, or the age of industry when steam locomotives, steam ships, and a revolutionary understanding of the world and man’s place in it inspired flights of fancy which went well beyond our world. And yet, as it turns out, a manuscript which was written sometime in the 13th century by an Islamic scholar living in Egypt.
His pen name was Ibn al-Nafis (nee Ala-al-din abu Al-Hassan Ali ibn Abi-Hazm al-Qarshi al-Dimashqi), and he was what westerners would later refer to as a “Renaissance Man”. Not only was he an expert physician he also studied jurisprudence, literature and theology and became an expert on the Shafi’i school of jurisprudence before he died. In addition to writing many treatises on medicine, one of which was made famous for being the first in which pulmonary circulation of the blood was mentioned, he also wrote extensively on law and the world’s first coming of age tale/science fiction novel Al-Risalah al-Kamiliyyah fil Siera al-Nabawiyyah, which translated into Latin is known as Theologus Autodidactus.
Broken down succinctly, the story revolves around a protagonist named Kamil, an adolescent feral child who at the beginning of the story finds himself spontaneously transported to a cave on a deserted island. Almost immediately, it is clear that the boy is an autodidactic, a self-directed learner who has mastered several fields through independent learning.
Over time, he is met by several castaway who get shipwrecked on the island, learning and sharing from them. In time, the castaways band together to make a ship and agree to take Kamil with them back to civilization. As they return to the world of man, Kamil begins to see all the works of man, learns of philosophy, law and medicine remaining a self-directed learner all the while) and comes to several conclusions.
As he grows, he is taught the value of jurisprudence, religion, the necessity of the existence of God, and the value of the sciences, arts, and all other things that make man civilized. His own coming of age is reflected in explorations of the origin of man, the current state of the world, and predictions of the future. Towards the end, the plot develops from this coming-of-age scenario and begins to incorporate several new elements, such as the the end of the world, doomsday, resurrection and afterlife are predicted and scientifically explained using his own empirical knowledge of biology, astronomy, cosmology and geology.
Ultimately, Ibn al-Nafis described his own work as a defense of “the system of Islam and the Muslims’ doctrines on the missions of Prophets, the religious laws, the resurrection of the body, and the transitoriness of the world”. Essentially, this meant presenting rational arguments for religious ideas, such as bodily resurrection and the immortality of the human soul, using both demonstrative reasoning and literary examples to prove his case. In this respect, he was not unlike Thomas Aquinas and a host of other western scholars from the High Middle Ages, men who would similarly try to defend reason based on faith and use empirical knowledge to defend the existence of a spiritual, universal order.
However, what set Ibn al-Nafis’ work apart was the way in which he expressed his religious, scientific and philosophical views through a fictitious narrator who went on to experience what the world had to offer. Rather than writing things in treatise form, which was the style for most philosophers of the day, he chose to do what only a select few of his contemporaries did and tell the story through a narrator who’s own journey illustrated one’s own journey of discovery. In that respect, he was like Voltaire, who’s fictional Candide had to venture out into the world in order to realize the truth about life and the order of things, though their conclusions were vastly different.
And finally, fact that he chose to speculate about what the future held, up to and including the apocalypse itself, is what makes this work classifiable as science fiction. Here, he was most comparable to men like H.G. Wells and Verne, men who looked to the future in the hopes of illustrating the current state of humanity and where it was likely to take them. And though these, and later generations of individuals, often had a negative appraisal of such things, Iban al-Nafis’ was arguably positive. His exploration was designed to affirm belief in the existence of something greater than material nature, but provable using the same basic laws.
I can’t imagine being able to find a copy of this book any time soon. It’s not like Amazon has copies on hold for anyone looking to a little cross-cultural antiquities reading. I checked, they really don’t! Still, I’d consider it a boon to find a translation and read the whole story for myself. What I little I learned can’t possibly capture the historic and cultural importance of the novel. Something to add to the reading list, right next to The Peach Blossom Spring and Beowulf!
20 thoughts on “The First Science Fiction Novel Ever?”
Just when I think it your posts couldn’t get better, they do.
I feel as if this post was written for moi. I know you didn’t but it certainly speaks to me on a deeper level.
I learn something every single time I traipse on over to your blog.
Thanks, Matt. Awesome post!
How’d you come upon this obscure author? Learn me.
Well, in the course of researching utopian and dystopian literature, there was a list of science fiction works. This work was a footnote, since it’s considered by some to be the first, but not typically classified as such. I investigated, was interested, and bookmarked it for later. The other day, I found it and dusted it off.
Done! How was my time?
Awesome as ever!
Funny, I always thought Frankenstein was the first sci-fi novel ever written. I guess I was wrong.
We all were… we all were…
and i’m happy to know that.
Apparently, there is also a second century Greek story that intended as satire but fits in well with modern definitions of Science Fiction. Although after reading how Bradbury defines science fiction and fantasy, I believe Bradbury would have called it fantasy. It’s greet title translates into the title ‘True Story’.
This is awesome! I’d love to get my hands on a copy too. If you come across anything give us a head’s up! The historical significance of this along is a huge draw, much less getting a glimpse into the mind of a man like that.
I think speculations about the “first” aren’t exactly useful — only when there is a group of novels which can be described and SELF-AWARE of themselves as a genre does a genre exist — it’s hardy like Ibn al-Nafis thought of his work as “science fiction.” So yes, there are important precursors but it isn’t until the late 19th century that there is a genre of sci-fi.
I’m inclined to disagree. If he were to think of his book as a work of science fiction, and if there was already a body of such work available, it wouldn’t have been the first. Pioneer works rarely use such labels because they are only invented after the fact, once several of their kind have been created and a discernible trend exists. This books is considered the first of its kind simply because it contained decidedly science fiction elements, ones which would become the mainstay of the established genre many centuries later.
I disagree completely — what science fiction is is rooted in our modern conceptions of “science” and “fiction.” These conceptions are entirely different in the 13th century… It is conceived as something distinctly different. That is NOT to say some piece of proto-science fiction isn’t considered a precursor — but a precursor nevertheless. So, science fiction as we conceive of it is rooted to 19th century conceptions of world.
Your argument views the work through entirely modern context — completely disregarding the thought context in which the work was produced/conceptualized/viewed!
That’s the point. Now that it’s been established what the elements are, we can look back to find the first example of such writing taking place. And since this was the first of its kind, more or less, it deserves to be acknowledged as such. Significance doesn’t just come in what the author intended, they arise as a result of the impact and influence the book had. That’s what makes this book interesting, it’s a style that was unseen beforehand but which became very common many centuries hence.
Similarities in content do not equate similarities in thought… So, it is not “science fiction.” Content wise, very similar perhaps. But then why go to this example, Lucian’s True History 2nd century AD is actually the first with aliens, interplanetary warfare etc. But, is it science fiction, no, just as this work isn’t.
Perhaps we can agree to disagree, as this is taking up a lot of room on my comments page and I don’t see us offering anything other than interpretation.
Haha, it’s actually a contrast in theories — I’m a professional historian so context and the tenants of genre and the cultural milieu of the age are vital. You seem to be more in the comparative literature mindset of text as monolith, text separated from author and environment. Both are classic theoretically intriguing arguments. But if it really bothers you, then I’ll desist.
No, it’s just that I don’t see us coming to an agreement any time soon. And I’m also a historian, but my second teachable is English, well observed!
I know I’m late to this but I was wondering if i could reprint this with full credit to you on my website http://www.geeksyndicate.co.uk.
By the by, i don’t know how its possible to disagree with someone as much as I disagree with Joachim
Why of course! And don’t worry about him, he’s just big into the whole context of creation and the non-formal school of thought. I was quite sure we were on totally different pages, but that’s the thing with academic debate. It’s all about taking sides and sometimes that leads to ongoing and passionate “discussion” 😉