Alexander Gromov (Алексáндр Грóмов) - is a Russian hard science fiction writer who began writing in 1986 impressed by works of Strugatsky brothers', his first publication having occurred in early 1990s.

Most of Gromov's novels combine a well-defined world created by the means of hard science fiction and a foreground of "social fiction", as the author explains it:

I still have to tell a couple of words about my works - not about each one, but about all of them. Most of the things I wrote can be considered social science fiction (not in the sense of "capitalism-socialism" - this topic does not interest me). The recipe of it, worked out by H.G.Wells, has not changed till the present day and looks like this: you take a socium (limited number of people is better - easier to work) and do some ugly thing to it, and then you sit and look at the consequences...

Of course I'm kidding, and let the shadow of the great writer forgive me. But every joke has a grain of truth... [1]

Also to be mentioned is Gromov's manner of writing, that is a high quality language(with a good "physical" picture of the world). His characters are not flat, they can evolve. In the text, remarks of socio-psychological kind(about people's nature, bosses, societies, etc.) are combined with intrinsic gloomy(not dark!) humour.

Gromov's books

Until now none of Gromov's novels are known to be translated into English. Yet the article will gain sense with few comments made on his books.

Softly landing the Humankind and admiring for a year Lemmings' heroic deaths

In future the Humankind faced simultaneously two catastrophic processes, that is global climate cooling(on a halfway to ice age) and unaccountable deep fall of IQ level of 70% of the population(the author called such people oakcephals). Probably the Humankind could survive any of these processes alone, but not both ones.. Yet don't try to guess what was the end of the Humankind alike; it met the different fate. A caprice of genes gave rise to a new biological branch of people, so-called adaptants, beings with different(less of) intelligence and better biological ability to survive. Adaptants usually weren't visually discernible from oakcephals; they parasitized on human society, acting as bands on the streets.. At a moment(long after their first occurrence) adaptants increased their activity and ceased the existence of the Humankind in a couple of years.. The flight of the humankind will interrupt, but it will be not be as an explosion, Sergey, people are afraid of it of no use... It will be as soft landing.

Of course, this novel Myagkaya posadka (Soft landing) is not a cynical exercise in futurism. The main protagonist, Sergey, an university teacher of physics(that is electricity -- cold climate, a need for electrostations!) is living in this world of eternal snowy coldness. Although having no hope for future, Sergey doesn't stay actionless; the situation just doesn't leave him at rest..

"Rybin, come here."

The slender youth, a kind of mentally-crushed. The face is good, the look is, no dumber possible. But it was he who solved the problem for an adaptant, otherwise i understand nothing in my profession and must be driven out. He is not a nose, it's exact. And certainly not an adaptant. In my opinion, he even isn't an oakcephal.

"Right, answer."

The mentally-crushed one begins to explain, passing his finger, and griveously selecting the words. "A"'s and "m"'s. When there are synonims, he chooses the most idiotic one.

"Enough", i stop him, "Why don't you learn at the first stream?"

He stupidly winks, inserts a finger in his nose up to second phalange inclusive, and is flapping his mouth like a becatched carp. Overplays.

"Well it's enough, enough.", I say rigidly, "Played a bit, and that will do. For me all is clear. You don't want to be open, -- no need then. You are not a moron and occupy the place of other's. I will be obliged to report to the sorting committee about you."

I am not in the least joking and this reachs him. He sweeps away from face the stupid expression. Intimidation remains.

The false moron looks sideways behind his shoulder, fright on his face. I can't confuse real fright with faked one.

"You can speak, the place is sound-proofed."

He, floundering, explains his situation. He doesn't attempt to knock a tear out of me, and I like that. He can't send his mother and sister out of the city. No, not necessarily to the South. They have no possibility to drive out. When he brought documents in the previous year, he asked right away, whether a request would be viewed of passing examinations without attending the lectures. He was asked whether he considers himself the cleverest one there. He was answered "no". Then he cheated the sorting committee. He has to, he obligatorily has to complete the institute in two years. When he will drive to a place of assignment, he will be able to take relatives with him, he inquired about it.

I ask leading questions, hitting in the aim. Mother? Yes, ill. But it's recent with her, after his sister was caught by adaptants and couldn't be found for two days; as it is she is a strong woman. Sister? No, sestryonka is alive. But... On the whole, she...

What happened with her, I unfortunately, understand very well.

"Are you at all in right senses?" at first I'm speaking in a calm and admonishing way, as an elder, who supposedly looks farther and knows better. Then I don't control myself, rushing the fist against the table, shouting and splashing. "A know-all! Lopuh razvesistyj! You became glad -- two years! But with so diploma you for all your life will blow off dust from voltmeters in some kind of Labytnangi! For all your life, up to the moment, until you there with your electrostation will be frozen into ice, do you understand this?"

He nods dolefully. Then he begins to explain with animation, that all is not so frightening, as it seems to me, one needs just to drive out here, and to wait through several years, and then all will surely change, it can't be that not to change, such things don't occur..

Such conversations last for five minutes, but you got tired of them as of a training in the Uncle Kolya's basement. The chap is right in his sense. And I can't do anything for him. Just only not to shake my tongue anywhere, but after all the chap doesn't need anything more... Sometimes you think, that the one who devised our society was mad from the birth.

"Go", i nod exhaustedly, "You passed the test. And... wish luck for you."

He thanks. Leaving, he turns around.

"Sorry, Sergey Evgenyevich, but how did you know?"

"In the solution you have the mistake", I speak, "A so stupid one, that it even is talented."

"Thank you" he sais, "Great thank for you. I will take measures."

He will do. He will correct the tactics, will begin rehearsing in front of a mirror releasing saliva, and will not be catched more. I know such ones.

Pictures of Sergey's life.. Testing oakcephals for knowledge of Kirchhoff and Ohm laws.. Driving home (at six-wheeled car) to his wife Darja (who will soon became oakcephal), while fighting from still scanty bands of adaptants.. After the sharp rise of adaptants' number being at war against them in the quarters of the city, among his colleagues -- almost autonomous small groups of people acting against elusive flocks of adaptants..

Evolving of the situation steadily lead Sergey to take his own actions, to play his own game.. Alexander, the adaptant-human, a (local?) leader of adaptants, a worker of security service(who recruited Sergey obtaining some control upon him), wished to prepare him to be a controlled leader of the remaining people(e.g., he organized fake attempts at Sergey) but failed. Note the last words of dying Alexander: Raw material... Still to work and to work... How little... Note also I suddenly became to understand, and got frightened. They haven't shoot me in the first moment. Now they already couldn't shoot me, even if they wanted to. I was needed by them. I occupied the place, that earlier belonged to someone, and now to me. And exhausted people, armed by submachine guns, looked at me so, as if they were waiting for a command from me. Why, it was so. In the epilogue we see Sergey, brought out to a leadership in a free group of several hundreds of people which seems to survive in this world for long, despite the seeming death of the whole Humankind. Is it happy end?..

It's planned to describe also the prequel to this book -- "God Lemminga" (Year of Lemming)... And many of Gromov's works still remain beyond the scope of the article!

Gromov's books

Softly landing the Humankind and admiring for a year Lemmings' heroic deaths

See also