Doomsday Morning

by C.L. Moore

Life was just about ideal for Howard Rohan. Nor should this be thought surprising, for he was hailed as the greatest actor in the United States and his wife, Miranda, as the most popular actress. On top of this, Comus (Communications U.S., which of course actually ran the nation) gave him a free hand in his work.

But then suddenly life showed itself to be anything but a happy-ending play for Howard: Miranda was faithless to him. In a state of shock, Howard let himself slip to depths of personal dereliction. There seemed every indication this would be his last role, except...

Comus was having its difficulties, too--in particular, rebellion in California against its authority. Not only were there outbreaks of violence, but it was not possible to locate the mainsprings of the revolt. In a last-resort move to regain control of affairs, Comus called upon Howard and his still great acting ability. How could an actor in a play learn what Comus, with its vast resources, could not otherwise learn about the forces behind the rebellion?

Genres: Science Fiction, Fiction, Dystopia, Novels, Speculative Fiction, Classics

221 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1957

About the author

Excerpted from Wikipedia:
Catherine Lucille Moore was an American science fiction and fantasy writer, as C. L. Moore. She was one of the first women to write in the genre, and paved the way for many other female writers in speculative fiction.

Moore met Henry Kuttner, also a science fiction writer, in 1936 when he wrote her a fan letter (mistakenly thinking that "C. L. Moore" was a man), and they married in 1940.
Afterwards, almost all of their stories were written in collaboration under various pseudonyms, most commonly Lewis Padgett (another pseudonym, one Moore often employed for works that involved little or no collaboration, was Lawrence O'Donnell).

Reviews

[Sandy · Rating 5 out of 5]

By the mid-1950s, science fiction's foremost husband-and-wife writing team, Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore, could be regarded more as coeds than working authors. After the release of their "fix-up" novel "Mutant" in late 1953, the pair released only five more short pieces of sci-fi over the next five years. And while it is true that Kuttner did come out with a series of novels featuring psychoanalyst/detective Dr. Michael Gray, for the most part, the two concentrated on getting their degrees at the University of Southern California. Kuttner, taking advantage of the G.I. Bill, graduated in 1954, while Catherine Lucille, paying her own way, took things slower and finished up by 1956. And the following year, she capped off a glorious writing career with a solo novel, her last, "Doomsday Morning."

A companion piece in title only to Moore's 1943 novel "Judgment Night," this is a very fine tale indeed. It is a bit unusual for the author in that its setting is not Venus, or deep space, or the distant future, or some unusually named fantasy world, but rather America--New York City and rural California, to be precise--of only 50 years in the future; in other words, around 2007, or right now! The America of Moore's early 21st century has become a quasi-totalitarian regime run by a far-reaching entity known as Comus (short for Communications of the United States). This government department in essence controls not only all the communications in the country, but also the schools, transportation network, the hospitals, the entertainment industry, the military divisions, et al. Howard Rohan, a washed-up alcoholic wreck who had once been one of Broadway's greatest stars, is pressured by Comus into putting on a traveling, open-air play called "Crossroads," along with a troupe of five other actors, to entertain in California. That state, it seems, had been rebelling openly against Comus, and activists there had been purportedly hard at work perfecting some kind of "Anti-Com" device that might miraculously bring about Comus' downfall. The story of how Rohan becomes a whole man again, after three years of grieving for his late wife, and how he becomes involved in nothing less than a second Revolutionary War of sorts, is the story of "Doomsday Morning."

Moore peoples her novel with interesting characters (all the actors in Rohan's troupe are at some kind of personal crossroads in their own lives), and although the sci-fi elements are kept to a minimum (indeed, without Comus' tear-shaped Prowler cars, the spindly "hedgehoppers," a weapon called a "scatter gun" and, of course, the Anti-Com itself, the book would hardly be science fiction at all, but rather a dystopian action tale), there are numerous thrilling sequences. Thus, Rohan's participation in a Comus raid, his stealing of a hedgehopper, the nighttime fight against some seedy renegades, and a remarkably suspenseful denouement, with the fate of the country--and the very existence of California itself--hanging in the balance. The author even manages to work some nice surprises into her story, as we discover the real reason for the existence of "Crossroads," what the Anti-Com actually is, and the reasons for Howard's unusual dreams and psychological promptings. Rohan himself is a very interesting character, it must be said, whose motivations and loyalties seem to be in a constant state of evolution as he sobers up and sorts things out.

It need hardly be mentioned at this late date what a gloriously fine writer Moore was; from her very first story, the classic "Shambleau" in the November '33 issue of "Weird Tales," to this, her final book, she combined elegant yet colorful prose with a distinctive emotional flair and one helluva imagination. Her 20-year collaboration with Henry Kuttner resulted in over a dozen remarkable novels and hundreds of short stories, and the team was surely one of the sturdiest pillars of science fiction's so-called Golden Age. What a terrible loss to the genre was Kuttner's early death in 1958, at the age of 44. Moore never returned to the field of sci-fi after his passing, instead writing scripts for such television programs as "77 Sunset Strip" and "Maverick." "Doomsday Morning," thus, was her last sci-fi hurrah, but what a fine note to go out on! Like all the other works from this remarkable team, I mo(o)re than highly recommend it!

[Carla Remy · Rating 4 out of 5]

11/2016

This is from 1957. The author, C.L. Moore, is Catherine Lucille Moore, and is considered a pioneer of science fiction, one of the first female writers of the genre (she began writing for pulps in the mid 1930s). That said, this really stood out among other 1950s sci fi (to me). The tone is light, though the subject is not. Also, it is earth based, having more in common with what we now think of as "dystopian fiction" than spaceships. And it's equally about the theater as it is about playing both sides in the fight of the government versus the rebels. And, though it is set in the future (probably, like, last year), it never explicitly says what year it is (I think this shows rare wisdom).

[David Agranoff · Rating 3 out of 5]

This year I decided I was going to read a lot more golden age Science Fiction, one of the books I have already read and reviewed was the Future is Female edited by Lisa Yasek. There were many authors I discovered from this book who I wanted to explore. First on my list was C.L. Moore. The reason I wanted to read her is like me she is a Hoosier. Born in Indiana early in the twentieth century Catherine Moore published her first works in the student journal the Vagabond at Indiana University journalism school just blocks from the house I live in grew up 60 years later. She left IU to support her family during the great depression but published many stories in the early pulp magazines. Later she would publish many works co-written with her first husband Henry Kutter. They met because they were in a circle of friends who met because they all wrote letters back and forth with THE one and only HP Lovecraft.

So I was interested in reading more of her work and when I saw that our library had a battered and worn first edition I jumped on it. The first thing I feel the need to comment on in the almost 70 years this book has been in and out of print it been consistently packaged in covers that have nothing to do with the book. There are no spaceships, or lazer guns, no giant robotic spiders. This is a serious dystopia that apparently is a follow up to her 1943 novel Judgement Night. That novel was not the basis for the silly 90's gangster movie. That short novel was actually more of a space opera.

Doomsday Morning is about a post-America 50 years in the future although no exact date is given. The country is run by what appears to be some form of AI called Comus (short for Communications of the United States). This book is really the essence of out of date Sci-fi written just before TV took over as a popular entertainment. Our window into this future comes from the POV of Howard Rohan a washed up actor. Comus sends him out to California to spread propaganda and accidentally out the forces of resistance against him. It is hard to imagine this type of media as propaganda in the future being down by traveling theater.

Much of this novel is about the theater, I don't know much about that subject but I believe the author did. The play they are touring with is called Crossroads. Those parts gave me a somewhat tongue-in-cheek feel. I thought of those scenes having a Terry Gilum or Coen Brothers feel. It was a interesting change of pace from the majority of the book that has many dark moments. The rebellion eventually falls into riots and chaos.

There is plenty of weird out of date attempts to predict technology like "Hedgehoppers" and really Comus itself is AI before the term really existed. This is not a read for everyone. It didn't age well but anyone serious about reading golden age sci-fi can't go wrong. This was the last work of an important author. While she returned to conventions to be remembered and honored for her contribution Catherine Moore never wrote in the genre again. I am glad I read it but outside of Golden Age completionists I not sure about the appeal 70 years later. I certainly respect the work.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a book that kept on confounding me - okay first of all why did I choose to read it - simply put I am a fan of vintage science fiction and always try and support the reprints and this was from a series I have already a number of.
So when I stumbled over a copy I knew I had to have a copy. So the book was part of my collection.
By why confound me - simple put the premise of the book did not really appeal to me. The idea a washed up actor is used to help prop up a totalitarian dystopian America, it sounded either incredibly dry or rather naive.
The thing was it was neither - considering the date the book was written and the political climate it was written in you would have expected something else - instead I found a book was a drawn in to and was surprisingly able to understand and appreciate the various characters.
yes there was references and actions which felt dated for a number of reasons but still it did not grate like some books I have read (and to be honest was expecting to copy).
So I found myself reading through this book at a pace which surprised even me - I guess this is just another example of the care and attention that has been put in to the selection of these various books and has no small way encouraged me to read more from the sub-set of the masterworks series. I wonder which next one I should try and pick up.

[Jerry · Rating 5 out of 5]

A musical humming and then a faint pop sounded, and from a slot on the desk a red folder came out like a tongue from a thin mouth. The canary moved uneasily on his perch, looking sidewise at the source of the musical sound. He tried a tentative chirp and then gave up and settled down into himself, closing his eyes.

This is a sort of cross between noir and dystopian science fiction (a genre that often since, at least, has unconsciously or consciously borrowed from noir, as in the movie Blade Runner).

And, centered as it is around play-acting, there is a lot of Shakespeare snuck in.

It seems heavily influenced by the Roosevelt administration and its four terms, with President Andrew Raleigh standing in for Franklin Roosevelt and, less obviously, COMUS standing in for the National Recovery Administration and other New Deal programs nationalizing private business and local government, especially those leveraging the entertainment industry and more especially live acting.

The schools, like almost everything else in the nation, were a part of Comus.

The story takes place sometime well after 1994, the heyday of actor/director Howard Rohan’s theater career, and long after permanent President Andrew Raleigh saved the United States from the Five-Day War, and rebuilt the nation around the national Communications of the United States, COMUS, that runs everything. Today, Rohan is a forty-year-old drunk, having sold his soul to COMUS for a steady job (and thus a steady supply of alcohol) as an itinerant fieldhand, occasionally having to endure the workers’ bus he rides driving past drive-in theaters playing his old movies. And seeing his old wife giant-sized on the screen.

The writing is phenomenal, with nothing out of place or contrived. There’s one minor point where Guthrie the roadie switches scotch bottles for a reason that comes out a few pages later; it is handled so deftly that it reads perfectly with or without the knowledge that there’s a reason for the switch.

And the symbolism, Shakespeare and otherwise, throughout the book never detracts from the thriller or the characters, from the President on down.

With the increasing nationalization of everything, the book is probably more relevant today than it was in 1957. It’s definitely just as exciting a thriller.

This edition is much more poorly edited than the 1957 version on archive.org, according to a random check of two typos.

[Ron · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Maybe you don’t know it, but the world is dead.”

A fine example of early science fiction in general and the works of C. L. Moore in particular, though no mention of space travel or aliens. Published in 1957. Set in a post-apocalyptic America ruled by an aging dictator and suffering unrest, all seen through the eyes of a washed up actor. Spies and betrayal abounds.

“When a Comus sampling turns up false, they’ll repeal the law of gravity.” “In California the law of gravity has been repealed.”

Well-conceived and executed. Moore still had the touch she first exhibited in the 1930s. She takes you deep into the mind of her protagonist and deep into his world. Works well.

“When you’re young you never doubt yourself. You never wonder if you’re justified. But as a man gets older he learns to doubt.”

Fewer technical groans than you’d expect for a story written sixty years ago. She managed to create a “modern” world which contains few jarring anachronism--except maybe telephone booths, and even those have video.

Quibble: “The hollow thunder of bomber was beginning to blanket all other sound.” Even in the 50s, you couldn’t hear approaching bombers. (B-52 bombers were already operational then.)

“How do I get out of here?” “Don’t act like that.” “It’s not acting.”

Contains the requisite SF/F cliché phrase: “I had been holding my breath without realizing it.”

“What’s past is prologue. Wait and see.”

[Stephen Rowland · Rating 1 out of 5]

Agonizingly wordy and completely predictable.

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

Set in the early years of the twenty-first century, Catherine Lucille Moore’s speculative novel is also a thriller, the action moving from the midwestern prairies of America to the East Coast and then California. For a tale written in the 1950s there is much that would appeal to male SF fans of the time: gadgetry, a hard-bitten, hard-drinking protagonist, lots of doublecrossing, and of course violence and explosions.

But there is more to Doomsday Morning than meets the eye. The fifties in the US was of course when McCarthyism was at its height and Moore’s plot has more than a hint of authoritarian repression. It is also, for all SF’s outward credentials as pulp fiction, a very literary novel, with allusions to Shakespeare, Chekhov, Steinbeck and Milton embedded in the text.

It’s also prescient in many ways in its anticipation of driverless traffic, covert electronic surveillance and the US’s alarming propensity to lurch towards totalitarianism when the conditions for it are prepared.

We meet Howard Rohan, a former actor who has gone into freefall after his wife Miranda’s fatal automobile accident. He is currently an agricultural labourer stinking of insecticide and alcohol, exhausted and feeling sorry for himself, and spoiling for a fight, especially when images of Miranda and himself in starring roles are seen during outdoor cinema showings. He is summarily taken from the Midwest (Illinois perhaps, or Indiana, the author’s home state) to New York to see Theodore Nye, a childhood friend who has risen to be a big shot in Comus.

Comus? It stands for Communications US, an arm of governmental power overseen by President Raleigh. He’s been in power for a score of years after the so-called Five Days War, and Comus technology now runs the country. But there are pockets of resistance in the west, particularly in California, centred on cities like San Andreas, Douglass Flats, Carson City and Corby. That resistance has somehow been labelled Anti-Com, but there is more to the label than appears on the surface.

Rohan’s assignment is to take a travelling troupe of half a dozen actors to cities in and around California, to play in a specially written play called Crossroads. However he has just a week to rehearse them before their first performance — is this too tall an order given everything that’s against them, from his need for alcohol to his fear of failure, from the awkward social dynamics within the group to the underlying unrest in California?

At one level this is pure thriller, with plot and counter plot, Big Brother surveillance and underground resistance, chases, battles and derring-do. At another it’s dystopian science fiction with futuristic technology involving autonomous transport, electromagnetic pulses and superior lie detecting machines.

But it’s also a reflection of political realities which we’ve seen nearly come true in recent times, of supposedly democratic entities being manipulated by populist leaders and their coterie using chaos as weapon of choice. As Rohan observes of the regime’s policy regarding oppositon,

Any organism can probably work out its problems if you let it alone. So don’t let it alone. The more choices it has to make, the more disruption it feels. Multiply its choices. Keep it stirred up. […] Reaction time slows, efficiency drops, the slowly forming new groups of potential rebels dissolve under the stress.

Can the “hollow man” Rohan has felt himself to be for so long step up to the mark and do the right thing to circumvent Comus? Will he reject the government’s propaganda (opinion readjustment as it’s referred to) and ally with the freedom fighters? Above all can he overcome the confused feelings in his brain about his dead wife and the psychological suggestions that seem to have been placed there? The play’s name therefore echoes the junction Rohan has reached in his life and the direction he has to choose.

If Doomsday Morning is more just than a scifi thriller overlaid with political commentary it’s because it’s laced with intelligent literary references as befits the author’s standing as an early female pioneer in the genre. So not only does she aim to satirise the hard man image of the Hollywood actor who takes leading roles in action films and gets the woman at the end, she also displays a close understanding of theatre craft and its repertoire. Throughout we get lots of obvious Shakespearean references, from Miranda in The Tempest to allusions to Macbeth and Hamlet.

But she also has fun with the common conceit of the play-within-the-play: not only the dumb show ‘The Mousetrap’ in Hamlet but the dramatic production within Chekhov’s The Seagull get namechecked for the novel’s embedded drama Crossroads, perhaps even ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ put on by the “rude mechanicals” in A Midsummer Night’s Dream are meant to be brought to mind. To underscore the Elizabethan references Rohan is offered a choice of troupes with, to us, suggestive names: the Rosemeyer Players, the Circle Guild and the Swann Company are clear nods to the theatres associated with Shalespeare, namely The Rose, The Globe, and The Swan.

While we mustn’t ever think that Moore lifted her plot from any of these antecedents — her characters, males and females, are her own, and well nuanced — I must discuss a couple of other influences that she must have had in mind in putting together this novel, her last ever. First there is John Milton’s masque Comus which not only will have provided the name for her surveillance organisation but also the basic conflict between power and virtue that propels the plot of the novel. Comus (it gives the root for ‘comedy’) is an evil magician, the son of Circe and Bacchus, who seeks to coerce a young woman with his magic wand to take a potion that will turn her into a beast. Her brothers are offered a means to countermand Comus’s stasis spell providing they grab his wand. In Moore’s novel the rebels have a chance to destroy Comus’s power source if only Rohan takes the initiative.

Secondly, I detect faint but deliberate Arthurian echoes in the novel. There are specific comparisons with the counter-weapon being a Grail sought by a ‘Sir What’s-His-Name’, tended by a woman called Elaine Thomas (who has an Arthurian forename and a Welsh surname). There are also mentions of firearms spitting fire like dragons. If Doomsday Morning seems an unlikely Grail quest we must remember that Moore and her husband Henry Kuttner wrote, for example, an Arthurian short story in 1943 called 'Wet Magic'; in this a US soldier called Arthur parachutes into Wales during the war and encounters Morgan le Fay in her underwater realm. In the novel Moore certainly knew what she was doing with her various literary motifs, and nothing is included which isn’t intentional.

A story like this needs a complicated analysis to reveal the complexities that lie beneath the superficially frivolous plotline which draws the casual reader along. Though this review isn’t necessarily that analysis I hope I’ve indicated enough to suggest that the novel deserves a little more consideration than a cursory read might offer. It doesn’t surprise me at all therefore that the publishers thought it worthy of a reissue in its Golden Age Masterworks series: it is, to state it simply, a minor masterpiece.

[Brendan · Rating 5 out of 5]

5

They don't write them like this anymore and I'm happy to say this was a slog, but was worth reading. The title name is misleading, and to be very honest I chose this based on the cover. Doomsday Morning is just a fitting name for the era it was written, nothing more. C.L. Moore crafted a solid book and it's quite funny that I read this after having a similar range of books this year. Golden Age Masterworks series is a new range and I'm interested to seek out more titles.

The characters are centred around Howard Rohan, a washed up stage actor, who is at the best a second rate narrator. I'm unsure if Moore purposely wrote Rohan to be this way, but I loved it and found this book incredible. I did find myself mixed in with all the characters, but this book did all the right things. I enjoyed the troupe interactions and if I had to complain, it was the lack of background or conversations within the troupe.

Doomsday Morning's plotline fits the mould of dictatorships owning the masses and ruling with an iron fist. 1984 was published before this from my recollection, but even if it had stolen that idea for Comus, it is still a very unique and independent story. I read Station Eleven recently and it was quite funny hitting the early chapters and knowing this was about a group of theatre actors. I knew nothing of the plotline, and if I had, maybe I wouldn't have read it. This was an interesting storyline, so my narrow view going into the book was best served for this reading.

Why the 5?

This book is timeless. Look at the thematic themes of the theatre troupe and the idea of Comus. These idea's are so ahead of their time and showcase the raw outside view of the writers of this era. If it wasn't so backwards racially and politically, you probably would love living in that era. It has the common fear of dictatorship and corporations taking hold. It is distant enough from 1984 to pave its own path. I never knew of this book, but I'm happy I found it. I probably won't have a chance to circle back to this Golden Age series for a while, but I hope it won't be long. Solid future book and definitely a piece of work from that era. The book is slow, but most of the books in this era were quite slow. If you enjoy Sci fi fiction from this era, I would recommend jumping onboard and enjoying the ride.

[Mandel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wizja przygody i szpiegowskiej intrygi zachęcała mnie do sięgnięcia po ten tytuł i oczywiście fakt, że to pozycja z cyklu "Wehikuł czasu" od Rebisa. Niestety, nie uświadczyłem przygody a tylko się wynudziłem. Dopiero w końcówce było nieco lepiej. Poza tym mamy tu do czynienia raczej z dystopią niż pełnoprawnym scifi czy postapo. Mam wrażenie, że "Wehikuł..." ma słabszą passę. Szkoda.

[Roger · Rating 4 out of 5]

Doomsday Morning by C. L. Moore is a well-crafted science fiction novel about the suppression of a revolution in a post-apocalyptic dystopian America. Rohan is a has-been, washed-up actor retrieved from his dreary new life as a "cropper," personally recruited for a vague mission by the head of Comus (Communications U.S.). Here's how the author described Comus: "You can't imagine life without Comus. Comus is everybody. It's the newspapers, the schools, the entertainment. It's the communications-theory boys who quantify language, the public relations people, the psychologists, the artists in all media who take the prescriptions the computers feed them and build sugar-coated truths that will cure any social bellyache before society knows it has one. You can't get along without Comus. Life would be too unpredictable. Society would crumble like cheap cement."
Rohan is to lead a theater troupe on tour through California, where there have been uprisings, ostensibly to spread subtle pro-Comus propaganda; but as Rohan coaches the actors through rehearsals of the specially designed play, he comes to suspect an even more sinister ulterior motive and reconsider his loyalties.
My only dissatisfaction with Doomsday Morning is that, for my taste, the style seems in some places repetitive with extensive description, particularly of Rohan's often redundant ruminations and dreams; these passages sometimes lost my attention. However, as Rohan connects with rebels and learns of an "anti-Com" device, the novel gradually picks up pace, and the importance of these and other seemingly trivial aspects of the narrative clarify and come together in a way that makes sense in the action-packed climax; hence my earlier assertion this is a well-crafted science fiction novel.

[Derek · Rating 2 out of 5]

My impression originally was that between the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street, this book was actually topical: a subset of America either opts out of or rebels from a corrupt, bureaucratic system that no longer serves the public interest. And further, that this system is short on force but long on media control.

But in reality this is a personal story. Howard Rohan, the has-been actor and broken man, must eventually work through and move past his own problems before he can be anything to anyone. This is all the more complicated because he has been subjected to posthypnotic suggestions to manipulate his behavior towards some mysterious goal somehow related and in opposition to the job he was given by those in authority.

There's an interesting core of a story here, where the story is told by Rohan and yet his mind is not entirely his own, and the layers of psychological games being played, between the tricks done to Rohan on behalf of the rebellion, Rohan's work on behalf of the authorities, and further Rohan's ultimately selfish goals.

Unfortunately--and this is where I wonder about Moore as a novelist--the story is so deeply in Rohan's head that it seems that for one paragraph of action, you get one page of rumination. By the end of the book, I was really dragging to get it done.

Hate the title. You could easily argue that Crossroads, the name of the play used in the book, would be infinitely more appropriate.

[Mjhancock · Rating 4 out of 5]

Howard Rohan was failed actor, content to descend into drunken oblivion after the woman he loved died in a car accident with her lover. But he lives in an a US ruled by the authoritarian technocracy COMUS, and a COMUS acquaintance decided he could be tapped for one last performance. He charges Rohan with going into California--a state that has withdrawn from COMUS--and putting on a propaganda show to win some hearts and minds. After a strange vision, Rohan agrees, but what he winds up at the center of is more important than he bargained for.

This is only the second major work I've read of Moore's; the only other one I've encountered is one she co-wrote with Kuttner, the novella "Vintage Season." Doomsday Morning is not on Vintage Season's level, but there are some interesting aspects about it. First, this is possibly the least dystopian dystopian novel I've ever read, which is arguably the book's biggest weakness. Granted, Rohan's life is pretty brutal--he's working the fields as a temp worker, and it's pretty clear that he's working and drinking himself to death with a sort of dogged determination. And we're told there is basically a police state of surveillance in place. But we don't really see very much of it in action. Generally speaking, a dystopia story goes in one of three directions: we see it unfold (Animal Farm); we see it from the eyes of an outsider that acts as a reader surrogate (Brave New World); we see it from the perspective of someone who has long been in it, but is looking at things with new eyes because of some awakening (1984). Doomsday Morning is the last of this three, but the awakening part unfolds kind of unevenly, and we don't see much of the dystopia through new eyes because about 4/5 of the book (at least) happens somewhere else.

And that somewhere else is the state of California. There's a potential here as well to set up what a society free of COMUS looks like, and either explore a radically new way of being socially, or at least have Rohan comment on how it's different through contrast. And while does comment on it a bit, for the most part, it seems like pretty normal US state of operations; the rebels are in hiding, instead of being out in the open (which is arguably weird), and there's still somewhat crooked bureacracies to deal with. Rohan literally has to fight for the license for his troop to put on their play, in a very extended brawl, but it's not that different from the one at the start of the book that he has with the other workers--it seems to suggest a similarity to COMUS, rather than a difference. (It's also pretty wild that COMUS can just abandon a state the size of California and keep it a secret from the rest of the country; let's chalk it down to their control being really, really good.)

There is some sci fi here eventually, in the device the rebels are prepping to stop COMUS, in the counter-surveillance device COMUS is using to find the rebels (the plays themselves, which is kind of nifty), and some of the devices and vehicles described in the early parts of the book. But for the most part, it's nothing that couldn't be done in a spy thriller novel over science fiction, and arguably would have made for a much more shocking outcome. So what does making it sci fi offer? Well, it lets Moore set up California as a more "natural" state of governance, being closer to our own. It allows her to be anti-big government--though I'll confess, I can't say off hand how popular such a narrative was in 1957. And it captures some of the 'western frontier' feel. There's some explicit framing of the event as a second American Revolution, and that would be much harder to swallow (though again, arguably much more interesting) if they were rebels against the contemporary American government.

Ultimately, I would make the case that the story isn't really about the dystopia or about the rebellion--rather, it's about Howard Rohan moving on with his life. The story here is that Rohan was an arrogant, popular actor. His partner--whom he thought to be the love of his life--dies in a car accident, with the man she was having an affair with. That sends him into a spiral of drinking oblivion. The heart of the story is him finding a reason to live again, managing a crew of actors, realizing his own power on stage again, and, finally, picking a side when he realizes he can only move on if he takes his former love off the pedestal he put her on and see her as a real person. And honestly, by far the most interesting parts of the book is him working through his relationships with others--taking measure of the rest of the troupe and how to manage them, deciding if and how he can best play the rebels and COMUS against each other to put himself in the best position, and instinctively returning to his power as an actor. I liked that part a lot, and it also reminded me the most of "Vintage Season." That work makes much better use of the sci fi genre, but what sets it apart from its contemporaries is how the lead interacts with the new people who entered his life--again, it's the relationships that take center stage.

The book feels like a missed opportunity, or a series of them, to better sketch out COMUS, to better sketch out this new California, and to give more weight to Rohan's decision to choose one side over the other. But I still enjoyed it, and I enjoyed the characters Moore set up and explored.

[Aaron Meyer · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is really good story once you are able to get into it. Its biggest problem is it is so slow in unfolding. Considering when she wrote this, it is rather impressive, for this could very easily happen to us today.

[John Tetteroo · Rating 3 out of 5]

C.L.Moore was een SF schrijfster die in een door mannen gedomineerd tijdperk alleen haar initialen op de kaft liet zetten zodat de potentiele kopers van haar boeken zouden aannemen dat ze een man was. Soms voelt het alsof de donkere middeleeuwen niet zo ver van ons vandaan zijn en de dromers zichzelf moesten kortwieken om niet te hoog te gaan vliegen. De hoofdpersoon van dit verhaal is een man, een gevallen ster van het witte doek, uit de gratie van het systeem. Hij word op een dag teruggehaald door de machthebbers uit de doodlopende steeg die hij voor zichzelf gecreerd heeft om een reizend toneelgezelschap te gaan leiden. Noodzakelijk, zo blijkt, omdat Californië niet meer wil buigen voor het allesoverheersende web van de Comus, maar terug wil naar de vrije verkeizingen.

Terwijl Amerika geloofwaardig troosteloos zucht onder de ijzeren vuist van de vriendelijke dictator, is het plot niet erg meeslepend. Het opzetten van de roman duurt lang, bijna zo lang dat ik mijn interesse verloren had als er halverwege niet een sterke versnelling in gezeten had. Het gaat bij Moore vooral om de karakters en daar zijn er genoeg van te vinden. De hoofdpersoon is arrogant, tegendraads, gemankeerd en heeft een joekel van een trauma overgehouden aan de zelfmoord van zijn tegenspeelster. De rest van de bijfiguren zijn ook menselijker in hun afwijkingen dan normaal in een SF-roman uit de 50er jaren. Het voelt ondanks de setting erg levensvatbaar aan en de vrouwen die opgevoerd worden, zijn voor een keer geen hersenloze bimbo's.

Als je de tweede helft weet te bereiken is het goed leesbaar werk dat een vooruitschaduwing is van een kapitalistische surveillance dystopie. Zonder de computers, maar met de leugendetectors. De hoofdpersoon maakt voor de verandering een echte karakterontwikkeling door. Binnen de tijgerpocket serie een van de betere werken. Hetgeen helaas iets zegt over het gemiddelde niveau van de tijgerpockets. Een goedkope serie (dik pulp papier, gloss die loslaat) die alleen gered wordt door de aantrekkingskracht van de cover art.

Ik ben nog niet onmiddelijk gewonnen voor C.L.Moore.

[Bravebook · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Poranek dnia zagłady" to książka, po którą sięgnęłam z wielką chęcią - akurat miałam ochotę na dobre postapo, gdyż ostatnia książka z tego podgatunku nie spełniła moich oczekiwań. Ta była reklamowana jako kultowe, nagrodzone postapo, więc zabrakam się za nią zacierając ręce.

Niestety tył okładki okazał się dla mnie zmyłką. Ten tytuł to w moim odczuciu wcale nie jest zasługujące na nagrody postapo...

Mamy tutaj historię byłego aktora, nie mogącego pogodzić się z odejściem żony. Wycofał się z show biznesu i wiódł monotonne, niewiele warte, acz spokojne życie. Dawny znajomy wyrywa go z niego przychodząc z pewną ofertą. Główny bohater podejmuje wyzwanie wprowadzenia trupy teatralnej na teren Kaliforni, która wyrwała się z sideł systemu Komus.

Autorka położyła nacisk na działania konspiracyjne i dywersyjne, trochę sabotażu, a przede wszystkim lawirowanie głównego bohatera między stronami tak, aby ugrał jak najwięcej dla siebie. Ten wątek szpiegowski najbardziej mi się podobał, gdy nasz aktor grał na dwa fronty.

Muszę z żalem przyznać, że niestety ten tytuł z serii Wehikuł czasu mnie rozczarował. Koncept na tę historię (pomijając, że jest to futurystyczna wizja przyszłości, której bliżej do dystopii niż postapo) miał potencjał, wplecenie byłego aktora, reanimującego pewną trupę teatralną, by walczyć z buntem przeciwko systemowi i wpadnięcie między obie strony konfliktu brzmi naprawdę intrygująco.

Wykonanie jednak zupełnie mi się nie spodobało. Książka okazała się dla mnie w ogóle nie angażująca, momentami strasznie mnie nurzyła, humor zupełnie mi nie siadł, a opis świata i całego wykreowanego tu systemu mocno kulał. Czułam się jakby ta historia była niepełna, niedopracowana, a szkoda, bo początkowo zapowiadała się ciekawie. Cóż, może dla niektórych okaże się fenomenem, mi jednak nie przypadła do gustu i totalnie nie rozumiem szumu wokół niej.

[Hana · Rating 4 out of 5]

 Amerykańska pisarka science fiction i  fantazy Catherine Lucille Moore wydała powieść „Poranek dnia zagłady” po raz pierwszy w 1957 roku w Stanach Zjednoczonych. Polski czytelnik dostał ją do rąk dopiero teraz, w 2025 roku, dzięki staraniom wydawnictwa Rebis. Książka jest stara czy zaciekawi współczesnego czytelnika? Autorka przedstawia świat po wojnie jądrowej. Panuje porządek totalitarny zaprowadzony przez Komus. Komus panuje nad każdym aspektem życia. Polityką, szkolnictwem, wszystkimi służbami, nawet rozrywką i sztuką, Jest wszechwładny. Wprost nawiązuje do komunizmu. Życie bez niego byłoby nieprzewidywalne. W tym uporządkowanym świecie Kalifornia zaczyna się burzyć. To ferment nowych idei tak łatwo podminował stabilność tego świata. Kalifornię trzeba spacyfikować. Howard Rohan dostaje tę misję. Czy ją wykona czy przyłączy się do buntowników znanych jako Antykom? Antykom pracuje nad jakąś tajemniczą maszyną co ma pomóc w likwidacji Komusu. Rewolucjoniści są zdecydowani zniszczyć opresyjny system Ameryki. Dystopijną wizja Moore jest prosta i wyrazista. Światem rządzi Komus. Komunikacja. Łączność USA. W skrócie Kom US. Kiedyś bóg szczęścia i radości. Teraz podupada razem ze swoim dyktatorem Raleigh. Czy pełzająca rewolucja Antykomu to początek wojny o niepodległość wszystkich stanów? Niestety opisana rzeczywistość jest zaskakująco prosta i uboga, tempo opowieści powolne a akcji brakuje zupełnie. Lektura dłuży się i wymaga samozaparcia, by książkę dokończyć. W treści niewiele elementów science fiction. Samochody, broń. A rozmyślania i sny Rohana są po prostu nudne. To nie jest lektura dla każdego. Książka nie zestarzała się dobrze, ale stanowi część historii literatury science fiction i jako taką warto ją poznać.

[UBOOKMI · Rating 4 out of 5]

„Poranek dnia zagłady” C.L. Moore to książka, która nie wciąga od razu, ale zostaje w głowie. Trudna, miejscami chaotyczna, a jednak hipnotyzująca. Opowiada o Ameryce po wojnie nuklearnej, rządzonej przez totalitarny system Komus, który kontroluje wszystko: transport, kulturę, szkolnictwo i życie obywateli. W tym świecie poznajemy Howarda Rohana, dawnego aktora i ulubieńca reżimu, który niespodziewanie zostaje wciągnięty w konflikt z rebeliantami.

Rohan to postać nieoczywista. Nie jest ani bohaterem, ani tchórzem. Jego przemiana jest wewnętrzna, rozciągnięta w czasie i nacechowana wątpliwościami. Spotkanie z ruchem oporu sprawia, że zaczyna kwestionować lojalność wobec władzy. Nie znajdziemy tu klasycznego konfliktu dobra ze złem, raczej opowieść o zderzeniu wygody z sumieniem, o rozdarciu między przyzwyczajeniem a potrzebą zmian.

Autorka dobrze oddaje klimat totalitarnego świata. Atmosfera jest chłodna i przytłaczająca, pokazująca, jak system może wpływać nie tylko na codzienne wybory, ale i na marzenia czy tożsamość człowieka. Niestety, tempo powieści bywa nużące. Długie fragmenty skupione na przemyśleniach Rohana lub jego snach bywają męczące, a fabuła rozwija się powoli. Mimo intrygującego pomysłu, brakowało mi napięcia i wyraźnego punktu kulminacyjnego.

To nie jest książka dla każdego. Nie porwie fanów dynamicznego science fiction ani nie zachwyci tych, którzy szukają akcji. Ale to dobra lektura dla tych, którzy lubią analizować psychikę bohatera i zastanawiać się nad wpływem władzy na jednostkę. Choć nie jestem fanką tej tematyki, cieszę się, że dałam jej szansę. Książka nie do końca spełniła moje oczekiwania, ale zostawiła kilka pytań, które warto sobie zadać.

[katooola · Rating 3 out of 5]

#współpracabarterowa
Wizja dystopijnego świata, której elementy można już zaobserwować w obecnych czasach tak ponuro tu wybrzmiewa. "Poranek dnia zagłady" nie jest książką dla każdego. Zostajemy wrzuceni w wir chaotycznych przygód bohatera, gdzie fragmenty funkcjonowania społeczeństwa w owej wizji stopniowo układają się w całość. Akcja rozgrywa się niespiesznie, przebicie się przez senne kłębowisko myśli bohatera, tę całą poszarpaną narrację może niektórych zniechęcić. Ze względu na to do jakich skłania przemyśleń, nad którymi warto się dłużej pochylić - warto!

W Ameryce poszatkowanej po Wojnie Pięciodniowej udało się zaprowadzić porządek z pomocą Komusu. Opresyjny rząd kontroluje społeczeństwo wykorzystując system sieci komunikacyjnych, sztuki teatralne, filmy, czy gazety - to wszystko jest przesiąknięte propagandą.

Howard Rohan, upadły gwiazdor filmowy zostaje wynajęty przez Komus do poprowadzenia trupy teatralnej w rebelianckim stanie pod przykrywką poszukiwania czegoś, co może zburzyć kruchy ład. Rohan jest antypatycznym osobnikiem o rozdmuchanym ego, rozchwiany emocjonalnie, żyjący wspomnieniami o przeszłości, tańczy między rozkazami Komusu, a zachciankami rebeliantów. Dokąd go to wszystko zaprowadzi? I czym tak właściwie jest ten cały Komus?

To mieszanka starej SF i thrillera polityczno - szpiegowskiego. Porusza kwestię wolności społeczeństwa w kontrze do opresyjnej kontroli rządowej. Rząd wie lepiej, w imię dobra ludzi, ale czy na pewno? Niemyślącą, zadowoloną masą ludzką niczym marionetkami łatwiej jest sterować dla własnych zgniłych celów, prawda?

To także historia o podróży bohatera w głąb siebie i jego przemiany. Dosyć przewidywalna, ale pozostawiająca czytelnika pełnego przemyśleń nad wpływem władzy na społeczeństwo.

[Lord Humungus · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was surprised how much I liked this book, despite it coming from the mad pulp era of science fiction. Sure the main character seemed to switch motivations on a dime, and some of the central premises stretched credulity paper thin, but it also shared the good parts of pulpy fiction. I liked the loose and hazy technology and psychology surrounding the central concept of "Comus" and I was fully committed the last third of the book, happily charging along on the wild, breakneck ride towards the frenetic conclusion.

But really my favorite parts weren't the action or the science fiction parts, but all the parts about the theater in the woods and the performances of the acting troupe; I felt the author was very familiar with highs and lows of putting on or acting in stage productions. The main character had some engaging ruminations on the loss of his wife, relationships, life and the ever-volatile career of an actor, well-written prose that I hadn't expected in a pulpy apocalyptic SF story. That being said I'm pretty sure those are exactly the kinds of passages that drew me to C.L. Moore's work in the first place.

I liked this much more than her collection of Northwest stories and will continue the search for more of her books.
Really the book should only rate 3 stars but I developed a greater affinity for the characters and the story by the end.

[Hugo · Rating 5 out of 5]

In a future America, each state walled off from the next, controlled by a post-war lifetime President as a 'benevolent dictatorship', and watched over by COMUS, an AI which controls and manipulates the populace—via a polling feedback system—through its news, entertainment, employment, education arms, and roving law enforcement and secret police.

Written in the late 1950s, this is suffused with Cold War concerns, as well as issues of governmental overreach and healthy paranoia – that it remains, largely, prescient of modern concerns, is all to Moore's credit. It's a tale of a washed-up actor finagled into staging a roving troupe of players to enact a government-sanctioned play of subtle propaganda—and increasingly revealed maliciousness—in a seceded and on the verge of rebellion California.

He and his fellow actors—all of them, as the play is titled, at a Crossroads of their own lives, as well as history and the country at large—are changed by his awakening spirit, in a narrative compelling written, fascinatingly observed, and which, with very few updates, could take place in the early 21st Century in which it is set.

[Fraser Sherman · Rating 4 out of 5]

By the 21st century, the US has experienced a second civil war and responded with an authoritarian government dominated by Comus (US Department of Communications) which uses advanced lie-detector type technology to track the public's mood and then reshape it through media manipulation (it shows how times have changed there's none of the omnipresent surveillance video we have today). Rohan, a washed up actor, is recruited to put on a play in rebellion-prone California; he knows Comus has a hidden agenda, but what is it? And which side is he really on.
A good, gritty thriller that has the added advantage Moore knows her theater, from the way energy ebbs and flows in rehearsal to the challenges of switching from regular theater to in the round. My only complaint is that Rohan sometimes comes across as a puppet, but it's a minor issue.

[Fred Katterjohn · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a pleasant surprise "Dommsday Morning" morning was. Suspecting more post apocalyptic it tooka turn away from that. Written at a time when when suspions were high of potential communist takeover of the United States. The country was still in the shadow of possinle thermo nucleaer war. Given this under current of threats to the nation the story fits.

The story reads more like a spy novel, in a possible future setting. If your looking for a post apocalytic actioner, this may not suite you.

The issue of liberty versus state control for the good of the people is a timeless issue. One might say of ever growing importance. Our protagonist hangs on the balance, trying to decide which way to go.

[Adrian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really surprised by this, for a vision of a dystopian society written in 1957, it's still relevant today. Basically, an authoritarian government has taken over, and targets media at individuals to control their thinking. But California is now split off and disconnected from the rest of the country, so the government send in a travelling set of players as the only form of entertainment that is still trusted using a washed up former movie star...

And I was really impressed. I think it works both as a post-apocalyptic thriller, and as a character driven piece for how the players pull the show together.

Cover is bobbins though, there are no rockets in this.

[Nathaniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5. I’d heard good things about Moore and was pleased that this validated them. the action is compellingly written, the plot is engaging, the theater scenes are really well-done, and if it weren’t so strongly organized around Rohan’s internal monologue I think it would make a really good movie. it is, however, somewhat marred by Rohan’s intrusive and obnoxious heterosexuality. don’t really understand why Moore felt the need to include the whole Miranda thing. weird and unnecessary. thus the -.5 stars. but honestly? I’d recommend it anyway.

[Paulette Illmann · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed reading this. You can never get a full picture of which side the main character is on until almost the end, and you are trying to figure out which side everyone else is on the whole time too. Who will win? Big government or the rebel uprising? and at what cost for both sides? In a country where the government controls everything, California is on the verge of breaking free, but not just for themselves, what they intend to do will free the entire country. It all boils down to a race against time and what individuals will and will not do for the side they believe in.

[Gina Andrews · Rating 5 out of 5]

Howard Rohan is a washed-up stage actor now working as a Cropper, going from place to place picking crops. Suddenly, he is given an opportunity to act and direct in the theatre again. But... the job has a big catch to it. What will become of Rohan? Will he be able to fulfill his mission and be famous once more? Or will he risk all for the greater good? The book seems a little dated, it just has that 1950's sci-fi feel to it, although it is very good.

[Joachim Boaz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Full review: https://sciencefictionruminations.com...

"C. L. Moore’s Doomsday Morning (1957) — she’s best known for her revolutionary 1930s works including “Shambleau” (1934) and the “Jirel of Joiry” sequence — is perhaps her most ruminative and traditional SF novel (she tended to write more fantastical SF and fantasy). Unfortunately, she quit writing around the time of the death of her husband and frequent [..]"

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

The one giant computer taking over the world shows up in several 50-60s SF stories(Colossus:The Forbin Project), it can't help but feel a bit dated given what actually came to be, add to that 50s pulp tough guy dialog and it's time to break out the fedora. Useful from an SF history perspective, it's better than its contemporaries.

[Ericpschoon · Rating 3 out of 5]

Doomsday Morning places a familiar type of gruff, action hero in an unfamiliar setting. This dystopian thriller doesn't have loads to say about much, but is a rather tightly packed adventure that, while it could probably shed a few pages in the middle, still keeps the momentum up throughout to deliver a satisfying story.