"The Futurological Congress," by Stanislaw Lem, 1971

Growing up, I spent an abnormal amount of time in bookshops. One that I particularly enjoyed was Either-Or Bookstore, in Hermosa Beach, California. The street it was on sloped down toward the beach, so the store was by necessity built on several levels. It wasn't especially large, but the management distinguished themselves from the suburban proliferation of chain stores by having a carefully curated selection of particularly interesting, often difficult to find, and generally more intellectual books. Also, there were cats. B. Dalton at the mall didn't have cats. Naturally, I spent most of my time in the SFF section, and the books there were often quite different from what I found elsewhere. This being before the days of the internet, that was a big deal.

I used to look at Stanislaw Lem's books at Either-Or quite a bit. They confused me. The back covers seemed to describe an odd blend of philosophy and humor in the guise of science-fiction parables. But the cartoonish covers by John Alfred Dorn III (who sounded like he should be a lord rather than a cover artist) made them look like kids' books. If there was one thing I didn't abide as a child, it was childish books. I've grown a lot in that regard as an adult, to the point that I've even written some. But I digress (it's what I do). Anyway, I never ended up reading Lem as a child. But I've read a number of his books in recent years, and they're generally very good.

Stanislaw Lem was a Polish SF writer, who most people know best for his novel "Solaris," which was made into films in 1972 and 2002. It's a great book, if slow in parts. Beyond that many have heard of "The Cyberiad," "Tales of Pirx the Pilot," and "The Star Diaries." My personal favorite, and one that I don't hear about as often, is "The Futurological Congress."

"The Futurological Congress" gives off strong Philip K. Dick vibes, in that there's a strong element of social satire, drugs are involved, and it's never entirely clear what's real and what's not. Lem and Dick had an odd relationship whereby Lem thought that Dick was the only American SF writer who wasn't a complete twat, and Dick thought (and by "thought" I mean wrote to the FBI) that Lem was probably a Communist propaganda committee rather than an actual person. So, pretty normal stuff.

Anyway, the book starts at the Eighth World Futurological Congress, sometime in the future in Costa Rica. There are riots happening near the hotel where the Congress is taking place, and the government puts hallucinogens in the local water supply to help pacify the rioters. Our hero, Ijon Tichy (featured in other Lem books as well) drinks the water, and hilarity ensues.

I won't say exactly why, but Tichy ends up going from our future to his future, and this is where the book shines, presenting us with a "Utopian" society where the masses manage to live their best lives by careful avoiding reality by all means possible. A bit like now, perhaps? Wink wink, nudge nudge.

For my money "The Futurological Congress" represents Stanislaw Lem in top form, with important ideas wrapped in social satire wrapped in absurdist chaos. And it all wraps up neatly in the end, at least to the extent that such a thing can.

Read this one if: You enjoy well-written and fast-paced absurdist social satire a la Dick or Vonnegut

Consider skipping if: You like things more straightforward and serious

The Futurological Congress: Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Canada, Apple Books, Barnes and Noble