What do you think?
Rate this book
The Men Inside
Earth's elite - or its outcasts?
For a selected, genetically-fitted few among the teeming millions of the twenty-first century, to become a Messenger for the Hulm Institute is to escape the prison that is life, that is earth.
A Messenger is noble!
A Messenger is one of the chosen.
A Messenger is a forerunner of a time in which fear and disease will disappear for ever.
And inside a Messenger's head is murder, impotence and despair.
For a selected, genetically-fitted few among the teeming millions of the twenty-first century, to become a Messenger for the Hulm Institute is to escape the prison that is life, that is earth.
A Messenger is noble!
A Messenger is one of the chosen.
A Messenger is a forerunner of a time in which fear and disease will disappear for ever.
And inside a Messenger's head is murder, impotence and despair.
- GenresScience FictionFiction
175 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published June 1, 1973
4 people are currently reading
124 people want to read
About the author
Barry N. Malzberg
535 books133 followersBarry Nathaniel Malzberg was an American writer and editor, most often of science fiction and fantasy.
He had also published as:
Mike Barry (thriller/suspense)
K.M. O'Donnell (science fiction/fantasy)
Mel Johnson (adult)
Howard Lee (martial arts/TV tie-ins)
Lee W. Mason (adult)
Claudine Dumas (adult)
Francine di Natale (adult)
Gerrold Watkins (adult)
Eliot B. Reston
He had also published as:
Mike Barry (thriller/suspense)
K.M. O'Donnell (science fiction/fantasy)
Mel Johnson (adult)
Howard Lee (martial arts/TV tie-ins)
Lee W. Mason (adult)
Claudine Dumas (adult)
Francine di Natale (adult)
Gerrold Watkins (adult)
Eliot B. Reston
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
August 17, 2020
into the old man's anus the micronaut shall travel, a little man made littler by the magic power of Science, or Science Fiction. the micronaut shall cut away the blossoms and tendrils of cancer from the throbbing rectal walls, his wee tool scooping out disease. easy to scoop away the cancer in a man; less easy to scoop away the cancer in a society. the cancerous society is composed of ghettoized lower classes and safely ensconced upper classes: what's new? not much, says the cynic aware of demarcations and the exchange of money for services and dignity for money. what else is new? the writing is new, or was new, the New Wave, the vanguard. the writing is brazen and cheeky, the author on a mad lark as he exorcises his demons, chief among them that male bugaboo called Impotence. poor men and their fears of a limp dick! the poor limp-dicked little micronaut shall regain his true but still smallish size, a man little in stature but now suddenly big in thought: he shall murder this evil old man - no longer prey to cancer, but still cancerous!
alas, if only he had done so, much earlier, he may have rescued both himself and myself, the former from his tiny life, the latter from this book and the eventual tedium it inspired. challenging, even exciting prose can only do so much when ideas are predictable, micro in scope. apparently I am a macronaut, disinterested in such small things, unable to travel through the book's too-tight sphincter and emerge pleased by the effort.
trippy cover for the original paperback:
maybe some kindly librarian can switch out this proudly macro image for the sad little micro version of the same, within the original paperback's profile? hint, hint
alas, if only he had done so, much earlier, he may have rescued both himself and myself, the former from his tiny life, the latter from this book and the eventual tedium it inspired. challenging, even exciting prose can only do so much when ideas are predictable, micro in scope. apparently I am a macronaut, disinterested in such small things, unable to travel through the book's too-tight sphincter and emerge pleased by the effort.
trippy cover for the original paperback:
maybe some kindly librarian can switch out this proudly macro image for the sad little micro version of the same, within the original paperback's profile? hint, hint
December 8, 2021
The Men Inside is a fix-up novel expanded from the title story which was published in one of Robert Silverberg's New Dimensions anthologies and In the Pocket from Harry Harrison's first Nova volume. In the Pocket was published under the pseudonym K.M. O'Donnell and was later used as the title story of a short story collection that was the B-side of a double O'Donnell (Malzberg) Ace book with his recursive Gather in the Hall of Planets. Now, if it weren't that confusing it wouldn't be good Malzberg, right? The story concerns miniaturization of people as in Fantastic Voyage, who enter cancer patients' bodies in order to perform surgery... the details get a bit icky, as do some of their amorous exploits. The writing is good, but the characters are quite unlikeable... It's an-alternate New Wave with something to offend everyone. My Lancer copy has a coolio-psychedelic cover by Ron Walotsky. After all is said and done, I much preferred the short versions.
January 15, 2010
I can only recommend this gross-out reimagining of Isaac Asimov's Fantastic Voyage to people who are exceptionally fond of bodily fluids. One detail to give you the flavour of the thing. In Asimov's book, the heroes are put into an antiseptic little submarine, shrunk down to the size of a platelet, and injected into the bloodstream. In Malzberg's version, the micro-miniaturized surgical squad wear diving equipment, and crawl up the patient's ass.
On reconsideration, perhaps one detail is already too many...
On reconsideration, perhaps one detail is already too many...
October 2, 2025
“All of this is a joke in a vacuum.”
The Men Inside is often likened to Fantastic Voyage, but instead of submarines the protagonists are spelunking into the human body via the cave-like entrance in the, well you know, southern region. Leslie Blount is a Messenger, one of the chosen few to be honey I shrunk the kids'd down to an eightieth of an inch and remove tumors from the aristocratic patients who can afford the operation. It's all completely gross, scatological, body-obsessed, and riddled with unsavory liquids and the internal machinations of a complete psychopathic loser. All of these lovely qualities make reading Malzberg like returning to an old sardonic and cynical friend.
In 1973, Malzberg wrote two of his best SF novels: Herovit's World and In the Enclosure, which in my estimation are absolutely superior to The Men Inside. The novel follows Leslie, who is a Malzbergian Raskolnikov gradually convincing himself, the reader, and the metafictional audience to prepare for the murder of his patient, Yancey. Malzberg presents Leslie as both protagonist and projectionist of his own film, which is the book you are holding, a typical example of how Malzberg effortlessly weaves various observer-audiences as fourth wall entities. If Dostoevsky was born a century later, dodged Siberia, sailed to America, became embittered as a failed literary author and discovered he could sell smut and science fiction, then here's your beloved Russian novel.
I usually find ways to dissect Barry's work and applaud his style, existential poignancy, and the apperception of his protagonists, but The Men Inside is not the Malzberg I'm most fond of and is a bit more garrulous in word padding than his other novels, although I will applaud him for actually being funny. Newcomers to Malzberg who enjoy his style will likely be at home here but later discover that he handled these themes masterfully in novels like The Gamesman and The Cross of Fire. In the impossible future where the film rights are bought to The Men Inside, I nominate Todd Solondz.
“Insanity is merely another way of coming to terms with the environment in a healthy fashion.”
The Men Inside is often likened to Fantastic Voyage, but instead of submarines the protagonists are spelunking into the human body via the cave-like entrance in the, well you know, southern region. Leslie Blount is a Messenger, one of the chosen few to be honey I shrunk the kids'd down to an eightieth of an inch and remove tumors from the aristocratic patients who can afford the operation. It's all completely gross, scatological, body-obsessed, and riddled with unsavory liquids and the internal machinations of a complete psychopathic loser. All of these lovely qualities make reading Malzberg like returning to an old sardonic and cynical friend.
In 1973, Malzberg wrote two of his best SF novels: Herovit's World and In the Enclosure, which in my estimation are absolutely superior to The Men Inside. The novel follows Leslie, who is a Malzbergian Raskolnikov gradually convincing himself, the reader, and the metafictional audience to prepare for the murder of his patient, Yancey. Malzberg presents Leslie as both protagonist and projectionist of his own film, which is the book you are holding, a typical example of how Malzberg effortlessly weaves various observer-audiences as fourth wall entities. If Dostoevsky was born a century later, dodged Siberia, sailed to America, became embittered as a failed literary author and discovered he could sell smut and science fiction, then here's your beloved Russian novel.
I usually find ways to dissect Barry's work and applaud his style, existential poignancy, and the apperception of his protagonists, but The Men Inside is not the Malzberg I'm most fond of and is a bit more garrulous in word padding than his other novels, although I will applaud him for actually being funny. Newcomers to Malzberg who enjoy his style will likely be at home here but later discover that he handled these themes masterfully in novels like The Gamesman and The Cross of Fire. In the impossible future where the film rights are bought to The Men Inside, I nominate Todd Solondz.
“Insanity is merely another way of coming to terms with the environment in a healthy fashion.”
October 17, 2012
'The Men Inside' is Malzberg at his most hilariously bleak and scatological: a brilliantly evil-minded rewrite of 'Fantastic Voyage', turning it into the blackest sci-fi political parable that could be imagined.
Malzberg is an acquired taste, certainly, but I find his writing - at its best, and even at its worst - quite exhilarating in its relentless, single-minded, oddly poetic awfulness. And it's very funny...
Malzberg is an acquired taste, certainly, but I find his writing - at its best, and even at its worst - quite exhilarating in its relentless, single-minded, oddly poetic awfulness. And it's very funny...
August 19, 2019
Della “new wave”, il discusso sottogenere fantascientifico lanciato negli anni ‘60 dalla rivista New Worlds, allora diretta da Moorcock, fu portabandiera in Italia “Galassia” nelle gestioni di Curtoni e Montanari, poi la rivista Robot sempre diretta da Curtoni: ma anche Narrativa d’Anticipazione, per il suo indirizzo, non fu da meno (da ricordare uno degli esiti più alti: “334” di Disch).
Insieme a Disch e Spinrad, Malzberg è forse uno degli autori più rappresentativi della new wave più pura (Ballard aveva iniziato a scrivere romanzi catastrofici anni prima, Delany e Zelazny trascendono i limiti di una corrente, Moorcock è più noto per la sua heroic fantasy), anche perché annunciò l’addio alla fantascienza già nei primi anni Settanta.
In Italia è stato tradotta solo una parte della sua virulenta produzione, tuttavia penso sia significativa: da racconti come “Una galassia chiamata Roma” a romanzi come “Oltre Apollo” (Libri di Robot) e “Nella gabbia” (MEB Saga).
Questo “Uomini Dentro” è ben rappresentativo di pregi e difetti di questa corrente. Nasce come ripresa sardonica del “Viaggio allucinante” di Asimov: novelization del famoso film, in cui il buon zio Isaac profonde scientismo ottimista e didascalico; lo stesso Asimov che dichiarò che “questa “nuova onda” (new wave) si ritirerà lasciando solo una spiaggia piena di detriti”. Nel romanzo di Malzberg la possibilità di entrare nel corpo umano per aggredire elementi patogeni è stata industrializzata: la multinazionale che detiene il brevetto del proiettore per ridurre temporaneamente gli umani a un millesimo delle loro dimensioni gestisce Istituti di cura in tutto il mondo. Peccato però che le cure siano riservate a chi può spendere 50'000 dollari, ovvero pochi ricchi; e che i Messaggeri incaricati di queste operazioni vengano resi sterili dal processo di riduzione..
Come si può immaginare, Malzberg distorce l’entusiasmo tecnologico asimoviano in un atto d’accusa contro la società paternalista e capitalista: i Messaggeri sono tutti reclutati in un ghetto chiamato Downside, il lavoro non deve piacere ma essere alienante, inizialmente molti di loro approfittavano della loro situazione per uccidere i loro pazienti senza lasciar tracce, fatto che la multinazionale ha abilmente coperto..
Malzberg ci fa seguire l’ingresso del Messaggero Leslie Blount nell’ano dell’anziano Yancey, poi si aggira per gli intestini, infine fuoriesce dallo stesso orifizio, facendo attenzione a non restare all’interno troppo a lungo: se tornasse a dimensioni normali mentre è ancora all’interno del paziente, questi esploderebbe: con risultati raccapriccianti.. eppure già accaduti! Anche l’estetica, come si vede, è lontana da quella di Viaggio Allucinante.
Malzberg dipinge una realtà astratta e kafkiana: Downside, l’Istituto, l’Arena dove le reclute festeggiano l’arruolamento (e ricevono offerte di prostitute, per le quali però non possono più provare interesse): il mondo è tutto qui.
O meglio: c’è anche il Prete, una macchina per confessioni, in voga negli anni ’90 ma ormai abbandonata in uno stanzino dell’Arena (il romanzo è ambientato nel 2015), dove Leslie si fa portare da una recalcitrante prostituta. La frustrazione per le risposte superficiali della macchina porta Leslie a distruggerla a calci, ma si porterà comunque il muto rottame nella sua stanza, per riceverne forse più ispirazione in questo modo. Questo è un bel simbolo; ma forse la via d’uscita più efficace per il complessato protagonista sarà uccidere Yancey, e riuscire così a soddisfare la sua provocante nipote anche a letto: uccidere la figura paterna e capitalistica libererà il lavoratore alienato dalla castrazione?
Come si vede, dietro lo stile brillante una storia esile, pesantemente metaforica; soprattutto, manca l’azione: nella miglior tradizione new wave, dopo l’intervento iniziale, le 160 pagine del romanzo sono dedicate a elucubrazioni del protagonista, ai suoi sogni di uccidere Yancey, ai ricordi del suo difficile rapporto con il padre (un poveraccio che lo ha fatto arruolare come Messaggero e che il figlio ricambia non curandolo quando potrebbe), a brevi contatti con Susan Yorks, nipote di Yancey, che dopo aver accettato rapporti incestuosi con il nonno ora sarebbe felice di vederlo morto per poter finalmente incassare l’eredità; al racconto della storia stessa come fosse un film della “nouvelle vague” francese; all’impotenza di Leslie quando Susan cerca di circuirlo; ai sogni, ancora, di visitare e poi uccidere persino Hulm, il fondatore dell’Istituto..
La prefazione di Carlo Pagetti, brillante come sempre, la copertina di Cesare Reggiani, l’ottima traduzione della Rambelli, che sa rendere le mille sfumature di dubbio e provocazione del narratore (ricorrendo anche a termini di bellezza pascoliana come ciangottare, crocidìo, cachinno.. le scappa uno “scalpello” per “scalpel”, bisturi, ma come non perdonarglielo?).. fanno di questa edizione un suggestivo esemplare di un’epoca, ma non consiglierei la lettura a chi non sia davvero appassionato di new wave.
Insieme a Disch e Spinrad, Malzberg è forse uno degli autori più rappresentativi della new wave più pura (Ballard aveva iniziato a scrivere romanzi catastrofici anni prima, Delany e Zelazny trascendono i limiti di una corrente, Moorcock è più noto per la sua heroic fantasy), anche perché annunciò l’addio alla fantascienza già nei primi anni Settanta.
In Italia è stato tradotta solo una parte della sua virulenta produzione, tuttavia penso sia significativa: da racconti come “Una galassia chiamata Roma” a romanzi come “Oltre Apollo” (Libri di Robot) e “Nella gabbia” (MEB Saga).
Questo “Uomini Dentro” è ben rappresentativo di pregi e difetti di questa corrente. Nasce come ripresa sardonica del “Viaggio allucinante” di Asimov: novelization del famoso film, in cui il buon zio Isaac profonde scientismo ottimista e didascalico; lo stesso Asimov che dichiarò che “questa “nuova onda” (new wave) si ritirerà lasciando solo una spiaggia piena di detriti”. Nel romanzo di Malzberg la possibilità di entrare nel corpo umano per aggredire elementi patogeni è stata industrializzata: la multinazionale che detiene il brevetto del proiettore per ridurre temporaneamente gli umani a un millesimo delle loro dimensioni gestisce Istituti di cura in tutto il mondo. Peccato però che le cure siano riservate a chi può spendere 50'000 dollari, ovvero pochi ricchi; e che i Messaggeri incaricati di queste operazioni vengano resi sterili dal processo di riduzione..
Come si può immaginare, Malzberg distorce l’entusiasmo tecnologico asimoviano in un atto d’accusa contro la società paternalista e capitalista: i Messaggeri sono tutti reclutati in un ghetto chiamato Downside, il lavoro non deve piacere ma essere alienante, inizialmente molti di loro approfittavano della loro situazione per uccidere i loro pazienti senza lasciar tracce, fatto che la multinazionale ha abilmente coperto..
Malzberg ci fa seguire l’ingresso del Messaggero Leslie Blount nell’ano dell’anziano Yancey, poi si aggira per gli intestini, infine fuoriesce dallo stesso orifizio, facendo attenzione a non restare all’interno troppo a lungo: se tornasse a dimensioni normali mentre è ancora all’interno del paziente, questi esploderebbe: con risultati raccapriccianti.. eppure già accaduti! Anche l’estetica, come si vede, è lontana da quella di Viaggio Allucinante.
Malzberg dipinge una realtà astratta e kafkiana: Downside, l’Istituto, l’Arena dove le reclute festeggiano l’arruolamento (e ricevono offerte di prostitute, per le quali però non possono più provare interesse): il mondo è tutto qui.
O meglio: c’è anche il Prete, una macchina per confessioni, in voga negli anni ’90 ma ormai abbandonata in uno stanzino dell’Arena (il romanzo è ambientato nel 2015), dove Leslie si fa portare da una recalcitrante prostituta. La frustrazione per le risposte superficiali della macchina porta Leslie a distruggerla a calci, ma si porterà comunque il muto rottame nella sua stanza, per riceverne forse più ispirazione in questo modo. Questo è un bel simbolo; ma forse la via d’uscita più efficace per il complessato protagonista sarà uccidere Yancey, e riuscire così a soddisfare la sua provocante nipote anche a letto: uccidere la figura paterna e capitalistica libererà il lavoratore alienato dalla castrazione?
Come si vede, dietro lo stile brillante una storia esile, pesantemente metaforica; soprattutto, manca l’azione: nella miglior tradizione new wave, dopo l’intervento iniziale, le 160 pagine del romanzo sono dedicate a elucubrazioni del protagonista, ai suoi sogni di uccidere Yancey, ai ricordi del suo difficile rapporto con il padre (un poveraccio che lo ha fatto arruolare come Messaggero e che il figlio ricambia non curandolo quando potrebbe), a brevi contatti con Susan Yorks, nipote di Yancey, che dopo aver accettato rapporti incestuosi con il nonno ora sarebbe felice di vederlo morto per poter finalmente incassare l’eredità; al racconto della storia stessa come fosse un film della “nouvelle vague” francese; all’impotenza di Leslie quando Susan cerca di circuirlo; ai sogni, ancora, di visitare e poi uccidere persino Hulm, il fondatore dell’Istituto..
La prefazione di Carlo Pagetti, brillante come sempre, la copertina di Cesare Reggiani, l’ottima traduzione della Rambelli, che sa rendere le mille sfumature di dubbio e provocazione del narratore (ricorrendo anche a termini di bellezza pascoliana come ciangottare, crocidìo, cachinno.. le scappa uno “scalpello” per “scalpel”, bisturi, ma come non perdonarglielo?).. fanno di questa edizione un suggestivo esemplare di un’epoca, ma non consiglierei la lettura a chi non sia davvero appassionato di new wave.
August 21, 2017
Another day, another Malzberg. The conciseness and concentration of this man's novels belie the quality of their content, however, and as usual, BNM is here the master of inner-space fiction. On this occasion his protagonist is a technician whose job is to be miniaturised and sent into the bodies of wealthy cancer-patients to precisely excise their tumours.
These "Messengers", as they are known (perhaps with its implication of 'angel' or 'prophet') are venerated by those outside The Institute for which they work, who are, perhaps, unaware that they are selected from among the stunted and otherwise doomed youths of Downside - a violent, dystopian suburb of the city concerned - and that their life expectancy is short, the maximum 10 years which they can expect to work being compensated by money they can only spend on drink, drugs, and prostitutes, or else save futilely against a future none of them will see.
Our antihero, Blount, determines, like some reverse Raskolnikov, that he will murder one of his patients. 'Reverse' because unlike Dostoevsky's character he wishes to do so in order to feel normal, ordinary, human, rather than the bearer of the illusory heroic status conferred on him by others.
This is the story of how he prepares for his crime, considers the punishment of himself and others, and aims for an earthly, physical, visceral (literally !) redemption. As always with Malzberg, it is pithy, spare, fast-paced, and caustically funny, as well as thoughtful and thought-provoking. Considerably shorter than "Crime and Punishment" too.
These "Messengers", as they are known (perhaps with its implication of 'angel' or 'prophet') are venerated by those outside The Institute for which they work, who are, perhaps, unaware that they are selected from among the stunted and otherwise doomed youths of Downside - a violent, dystopian suburb of the city concerned - and that their life expectancy is short, the maximum 10 years which they can expect to work being compensated by money they can only spend on drink, drugs, and prostitutes, or else save futilely against a future none of them will see.
Our antihero, Blount, determines, like some reverse Raskolnikov, that he will murder one of his patients. 'Reverse' because unlike Dostoevsky's character he wishes to do so in order to feel normal, ordinary, human, rather than the bearer of the illusory heroic status conferred on him by others.
This is the story of how he prepares for his crime, considers the punishment of himself and others, and aims for an earthly, physical, visceral (literally !) redemption. As always with Malzberg, it is pithy, spare, fast-paced, and caustically funny, as well as thoughtful and thought-provoking. Considerably shorter than "Crime and Punishment" too.
April 12, 2020
Full review: https://sciencefictionruminations.com...
4.5/5
"Caveat: If a perverse (and Freudian) metafictional (and literary) retelling of Otto Klement and Jerome Bixby’s Fantastic Voyage replete with filmic flashbacks does not intrigue you then stay away….
There are few SF authors who utilize metafictional elements as gleefully and effectively as Barry N. Malzberg. Beyond Apollo (1972), his masterpiece, is a labyrinthine sequence of 67 short chapters of a novel written by the main character who may or may not be recounting real (imagined?) events. While in In the Enclosure (1973) the excruciating paranoia that permeates the pages and the impossible escapes that transpire [...]"
4.5/5
"Caveat: If a perverse (and Freudian) metafictional (and literary) retelling of Otto Klement and Jerome Bixby’s Fantastic Voyage replete with filmic flashbacks does not intrigue you then stay away….
There are few SF authors who utilize metafictional elements as gleefully and effectively as Barry N. Malzberg. Beyond Apollo (1972), his masterpiece, is a labyrinthine sequence of 67 short chapters of a novel written by the main character who may or may not be recounting real (imagined?) events. While in In the Enclosure (1973) the excruciating paranoia that permeates the pages and the impossible escapes that transpire [...]"
January 23, 2016
This is a very weird book which I must have bought second hand since 25p is written in pencil on the front page. I think I must have started it several times, over the last few years but never got to the end before. It is essentially about the men inside - a precise description of what the Messengers do, which is being miniaturised and entering a patient's body to cut out cancerous growths from the intestines. Doesn't sound too appetising? It isn't, and it contains one of the most graphic descriptions of heterosexual sex I have come across, possibly also not too appetising, since it is a component of an incestuous relationship. I liked someone else's shelf - "not for maiden aunts".
January 5, 2018
Another winner from the little-known and possibly under-appreciated Malzberg, fast becoming one of my favourite SF writers.
This is a scatological inversion of Fantastic Voyage crossed with Crime and Punishment, written with Philip K Dick's neuroses and obsessions, Harlan Ellison's fire and wordplay, and carousing through the prose styles of Vonnegut and Burroughs (Bill, not Ed); in short, classic Malzberg.
This is a scatological inversion of Fantastic Voyage crossed with Crime and Punishment, written with Philip K Dick's neuroses and obsessions, Harlan Ellison's fire and wordplay, and carousing through the prose styles of Vonnegut and Burroughs (Bill, not Ed); in short, classic Malzberg.
August 20, 2015
strange, but captivating
November 26, 2017
I think this was the second Malzberg book I read, after 'Guernica Night', and sadly it wasn't any better, so I won't be reading any more. Possibly read it about 1993, not sure.
January 2, 2025
7.5/10
I’m conflicted. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book but I’m not sure how good of a book it actually is. I almost get the feeling that this book was merely a writing exercise and Malzberg didn’t take it too seriously, because at times the book reads as a fairly serious, disjointed dive into the inner psyche of a man struggling to understand the true motivations of his desire to murder his patient. And the entirety of the rest of the book is the narrator just making fun of the main character for being short lmao
I’m not sure what the backstory is to this, but the narrator is just constantly ripping on the main character, Blount, and can never refer to him without some type of “you’re short lol” comment. Like constantly referring to him as an elf, or that he has tiny hands, or little knees. But like none of it is really relevant to the story. Major trigger warning for anyone with short man syndrome I guess but I actually found it pretty funny.
Once again my major criticism is the book is explicitly sexist (maybe intentionally(?) idk). There was also a pretty disturbing grandfather-granddaughter incest rape scene which I could have done without. I think I just need to read more Malzberg to get an understanding of wtf this book actually is.
I’m conflicted. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book but I’m not sure how good of a book it actually is. I almost get the feeling that this book was merely a writing exercise and Malzberg didn’t take it too seriously, because at times the book reads as a fairly serious, disjointed dive into the inner psyche of a man struggling to understand the true motivations of his desire to murder his patient. And the entirety of the rest of the book is the narrator just making fun of the main character for being short lmao
I’m not sure what the backstory is to this, but the narrator is just constantly ripping on the main character, Blount, and can never refer to him without some type of “you’re short lol” comment. Like constantly referring to him as an elf, or that he has tiny hands, or little knees. But like none of it is really relevant to the story. Major trigger warning for anyone with short man syndrome I guess but I actually found it pretty funny.
Once again my major criticism is the book is explicitly sexist (maybe intentionally(?) idk). There was also a pretty disturbing grandfather-granddaughter incest rape scene which I could have done without. I think I just need to read more Malzberg to get an understanding of wtf this book actually is.
September 7, 2024
This was ridiculously painful to finish. The concept should make it easy, fun......but no. Just a constant onslaught of the main character being depressed and incomplete.
He manages to turn a Fantastic Voyage story into something so Unfantastic. I do believe this will be my worst of the year.
My first Malzberg and I hope this is his worst.
He manages to turn a Fantastic Voyage story into something so Unfantastic. I do believe this will be my worst of the year.
My first Malzberg and I hope this is his worst.
December 24, 2025
3? stars: Pretty unpleasant to read all around. A sort of simmering sense of disgust and schizophrenia bubbling out from the writing style. Unique for sure
December 20, 2025
Malzberg asserts his typical genius even if he comes a hair (or a bit of colon, to be more on brand) short of his best here. “Malzberg does Fantastic Voyage” has me yearning for a Malzberg-Ian treatment of any number of other sci-fi premises.
December 21, 2017
A darkly comic, dystopian, hybrid novel that's a weird three way cross between 1984, a little bit of Catcher in the Rye, and a lot of Fantastic Voyage..... a sarcastic and depressing indictment of modern socio-economic feudalism, with a very disturbing and sometimes wearying plot that's long on both socio-economic fatalism and an unhealthy dose of scatology.... for real......a large portion of this book features the protagonist inside the diseased intestines of a comatose geriatric multi-millionaire. And, he don't get there by being swallowed or ingested.... if you get what I'm tryin' to say without sayin' it.
I'm not tellin' ya' it's a "bad" story, per se'... I like Malzberg... but, this is most definitely what the kiddies call "a lot".
I'm not tellin' ya' it's a "bad" story, per se'... I like Malzberg... but, this is most definitely what the kiddies call "a lot".
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews