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Solar Plexus
A short story by James Blish
- GenresScience Fiction
15 pages, Paperback
Published September 1, 1941
8 people want to read
About the author
James Blish
455 books327 followersJames Benjamin Blish was an American author of fantasy and science fiction. Blish also wrote literary criticism of science fiction using the pen-name William Atheling Jr.
In the late 1930's to the early 1940's, Blish was a member of the Futurians.
Blish trained as a biologist at Rutgers and Columbia University, and spent 1942–1944 as a medical technician in the U.S. Army. After the war he became the science editor for the Pfizer pharmaceutical company. His first published story appeared in 1940, and his writing career progressed until he gave up his job to become a professional writer.
He is credited with coining the term gas giant, in the story "Solar Plexus" as it appeared in the anthology Beyond Human Ken, edited by Judith Merril. (The story was originally published in 1941, but that version did not contain the term; Blish apparently added it in a rewrite done for the anthology, which was first published in 1952.)
Blish was married to the literary agent Virginia Kidd from 1947 to 1963.
From 1962 to 1968, he worked for the Tobacco Institute.
Between 1967 and his death from lung cancer in 1975, Blish became the first author to write short story collections based upon the classic TV series Star Trek. In total, Blish wrote 11 volumes of short stories adapted from episodes of the 1960s TV series, as well as an original novel, Spock Must Die! in 1970 — the first original novel for adult readers based upon the series (since then hundreds more have been published). He died midway through writing Star Trek 12; his wife, J.A. Lawrence, completed the book, and later completed the adaptations in the volume Mudd's Angels.
Blish lived in Milford, Pennsylvania at Arrowhead until the mid-1960s. In 1968, Blish emigrated to England, and lived in Oxford until his death in 1975. He is buried in Holywell Cemetery, Oxford, near the grave of Kenneth Grahame.
His name in Greek is Τζέημς Μπλις"
In the late 1930's to the early 1940's, Blish was a member of the Futurians.
Blish trained as a biologist at Rutgers and Columbia University, and spent 1942–1944 as a medical technician in the U.S. Army. After the war he became the science editor for the Pfizer pharmaceutical company. His first published story appeared in 1940, and his writing career progressed until he gave up his job to become a professional writer.
He is credited with coining the term gas giant, in the story "Solar Plexus" as it appeared in the anthology Beyond Human Ken, edited by Judith Merril. (The story was originally published in 1941, but that version did not contain the term; Blish apparently added it in a rewrite done for the anthology, which was first published in 1952.)
Blish was married to the literary agent Virginia Kidd from 1947 to 1963.
From 1962 to 1968, he worked for the Tobacco Institute.
Between 1967 and his death from lung cancer in 1975, Blish became the first author to write short story collections based upon the classic TV series Star Trek. In total, Blish wrote 11 volumes of short stories adapted from episodes of the 1960s TV series, as well as an original novel, Spock Must Die! in 1970 — the first original novel for adult readers based upon the series (since then hundreds more have been published). He died midway through writing Star Trek 12; his wife, J.A. Lawrence, completed the book, and later completed the adaptations in the volume Mudd's Angels.
Blish lived in Milford, Pennsylvania at Arrowhead until the mid-1960s. In 1968, Blish emigrated to England, and lived in Oxford until his death in 1975. He is buried in Holywell Cemetery, Oxford, near the grave of Kenneth Grahame.
His name in Greek is Τζέημς Μπλις"
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
December 2, 2025
The plot of this story is a combination of what happens when metaphysics, biology, and raw cosmic audacity sit down for tea and decide to rewrite the rules of existence.
The story explores the idea of “life energy” not as mystical vapour but as a physical force—something measurable, manipulable, and terrifyingly potent.
This one is one of Blish’s more philosophical pieces, and he approaches it with that signature blend of scientific rigour and borderline spiritual curiosity.
The narrative pivots around an experiment that tries to isolate the “vital spark.” But Blish, ever the trickster thinker, twists the premise: what if isolating life reveals not enlightenment, but something predatory lurking beneath the metaphors?
The experiment spirals, not explosively but eerily, as the energy becomes something autonomous, hungry, and unsettlingly self-aware.
Blish’s prose builds a creeping dread—less monster horror, more “the universe is bigger and weirder than we agreed upon.” The real horror is epistemological. Once the experiment works, nothing about biology—or identity—feels stable.
Blish always had a gift for blending the sacred and the scientific. Here, he pushes the question: If life is a force, what happens when we detach it from form? The answer is not pretty.
The energy behaves like a ghost with PhD-level spite. It creeps, it invades, it consumes.
And yet Blish keeps the tone clinical, which somehow makes everything more unnerving.
The story ends with a classic flourish—no moralizing, just the cold realization that curiosity often outruns wisdom, and that some questions don’t want answers.
One of the best sci-fi stories you’ll ever read. Most recommended. Give it a go.
The story explores the idea of “life energy” not as mystical vapour but as a physical force—something measurable, manipulable, and terrifyingly potent.
This one is one of Blish’s more philosophical pieces, and he approaches it with that signature blend of scientific rigour and borderline spiritual curiosity.
The narrative pivots around an experiment that tries to isolate the “vital spark.” But Blish, ever the trickster thinker, twists the premise: what if isolating life reveals not enlightenment, but something predatory lurking beneath the metaphors?
The experiment spirals, not explosively but eerily, as the energy becomes something autonomous, hungry, and unsettlingly self-aware.
Blish’s prose builds a creeping dread—less monster horror, more “the universe is bigger and weirder than we agreed upon.” The real horror is epistemological. Once the experiment works, nothing about biology—or identity—feels stable.
Blish always had a gift for blending the sacred and the scientific. Here, he pushes the question: If life is a force, what happens when we detach it from form? The answer is not pretty.
The energy behaves like a ghost with PhD-level spite. It creeps, it invades, it consumes.
And yet Blish keeps the tone clinical, which somehow makes everything more unnerving.
The story ends with a classic flourish—no moralizing, just the cold realization that curiosity often outruns wisdom, and that some questions don’t want answers.
One of the best sci-fi stories you’ll ever read. Most recommended. Give it a go.
March 23, 2022
The problem is more interesting than the solution here, which I saw coming at least a paragraph before the action. Not among Blish's best, but it does work.
Read in Silverberg's Men and Machines: Science Fiction Stories by Fred Saberhagan, Jack Williamson, Fritz Leiber, and More!.
Read in Silverberg's Men and Machines: Science Fiction Stories by Fred Saberhagan, Jack Williamson, Fritz Leiber, and More!.
November 2, 2020
First published in the September 1941 issue
of Astonishing Stories magazine.
of Astonishing Stories magazine.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews