The Great Stone of Sardis: The pole at the pole

The Great Stone of Sardis by Frank R. Stockton

Throughout the 19^th century, numerous expeditions made the valiant attempt to be the first to reach the North Pole, and records were set as one team after another vied for the title of “Farthest North.” The ball got rolling in 1827, when the team of the English explorer Sir William Edward Parry reached the northern latitude of 82 degrees. By 1898, expeditions from the U.K., U.S., Norway and Italy had nudged their way ever higher, and the record stood at 86 degrees north latitude, with nobody yet having achieved the ultimate objective. This fascination with reaching the northernmost point on Earth evidently proved irresistible to the American author Frank R. Stockton as well, resulting in his lost-world adventure The Great Stone of Sardis, which was released 12 years before the American Robert Peary claimed to reach the pole in 1909 … a claim that has been disputed in modern times.

The Great Stone of Sardis was originally released as a six-part serial in the June – November 1897 issues of Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, which had been first published by the Harper brothers in the 1850s. Stockton’s novel would receive the hardcover treatment in 1898, via the Harper Brothers publishing house, which dated back to 1817. Scribner’s would reissue the book in 1900, accompanied by Stockton’s novelette “The Water-Devil” (1874), after which the novel would go OOPs (out of prints) for no fewer than 76 years. In 1976, however, the book was reissued twice: first as part of Gregg Press’ big hardcover The Science Fiction of Frank R. Stockton, and then as a Belmont Tower paperback. Flash forward another 33 years, to 2009, and the novel is again reissued twice in one year … as a Book Jungle trade-size edition and as a paperback from Tark. And finally, there is the incarnation that I was fortunate enough to acquire … the 2020 edition from Armchair Fiction – the 26^th installment of their ongoing Lost World-Lost Race Classics series (which, as of this writing, extends to 66 volumes) and which replicates the unfaithful piece of cover art from the Belmont Tower edition, by an unknown artist.

Before going on, a quick word about author Frank R. Stockton himself, for those of you who might be unfamiliar with him, as I admittedly was, for the most part. Stockton was born in Philadelphia in 1834 and is today probably best known for his tales of adventure, as well as for the dozens of short stories and fairy tales that he wrote for children. He also seems to have dabbled in the field of science fiction, as revealed in the book in question and, reportedly, in his 1889 novel The Great War Syndicate. But he is surely most famous for his classic short story “The Lady, or the Tiger?” (1882), which used to be a staple of required high-school reading (at least, it was when I went to high school!). Stockton ultimately passed away in 1902, at the age of 68.

Now, as to The Great Stone of Sardis itself: The book is set in the futuristic year of, uh, 1947, and introduces the reader to the great scientist and inventor Roland Clewe. When we first encounter him, Clewe is returning from Germany after a year’s worth of study, and is now ready to get back to work at his laboratory and manufacturing installation in (the fictitious town of) Sardis, New Jersey. Preoccupying his mind foremost are three pet projects. The first of these is a new type of submarine that he has developed, christened the Dipsey. This sub has been specially built to travel beneath the Arctic pack ice, and Clewe now hopes to send a handpicked crew of around a dozen individuals to the frozen wilderness, and so become the first to reach the North Pole. And while the Dipsey is thus engaged, Clewe will remain in Sardis to pursue his other projects.

Thus, Stockton gives the reader a novel with a highly captivating parallel set of story lines, given to us alternately. In one, the Dipsey’s crew encounters any number of hazards while making their polar attempt. The crew includes Samuel Block, Clewe’s elderly manager and right-hand man, who has been compelled to bring along his chatterbox wife Sarah; an old-fashioned sailor, Capt. James Hubbell; the first and second chief electricians, Gibbs and Marcy; and Ivan Rovinski, Clewe’s Polish enemy and rival, who has somehow made his way on board, will do anything to steal and take credit for Roland’s discoveries, and who causes the crew no end of trouble during their voyage. Meanwhile, back in New Jersey, Clewe prosecutes his investigation of the so-called Artesian ray, aka the photic borer. With this device, Clewe can peer far underground … miles deep, as a matter of fact! With the aid of the ray and a telescope, Clewe looks down to a depth of 14 1/8 miles, being ultimately stymied by a zone of light! Putting this project on hold, Clewe next concentrates on his automatic shell, which can burrow its way through mountains and defenses and shows potential as both a tool of construction and a weapon of war. But then, disaster strikes! The automatic shell accidentally falls from its scaffolding and digs a hole straight down … 14 1/8 miles down, as a matter of fact, where it is somehow stopped by that same mysterious zone of light. And so, what else can a conscientious scientist possibly be expected to do? Despite the objections of Margaret Raleigh, a wealthy widow who had been Clewe’s partner and is now his fiancée, Roland determines to descend into the depths of the great pit, and learn its secrets. And in so doing, he ultimately comes to discover some fascinating facts about this old Earth’s origin and structure…

Brian Aldiss, I recall, used to have a term for describing the sci-fi work of his fellow Englishman John Wyndam. He called Wyndham’s novels “cosy catastrophes,” referring to the fact that things usually turned out just fine for the lead characters in those books, despite the desperate circumstances that surrounded them. Well, it seems to me that Stockton’s book here could very easily be thought of as a “cozy lost-world affair.” All of the characters in it, with the exception of that weaselly villain Rovinski, are hugely likeable, plain-folk, down-to-earth sorts, and the reader can identify with and root for them all, knowing full well that no harm will possibly befall them. Indeed, there is but a single fatality in Stockton’s story to be had, and I probably don’t have to tell you which character, right? The author’s style here is a highly readable one with expertly rendered dialogue, perfect for YA readers yet with a strong appeal for adults; it did not surprise me one bit when I learned later on that Stockton wrote many pieces for children. The use of alternating, parallel story lines really helps move things along, and the incorporation of dry humor only adds to the fun. Thus, we have Mr. Gibbs remarking “…if we are drowned outside in the open water we shall be food for fishes, whereas if we suffocate inside the vessel we shall only be food for reflection, if anybody ever finds us.” And then there is the seasick Mrs. Block, telling her husband “I feel … as if I had had a Christmas dinner yesterday and somebody else had made the pies”!

Not surprisingly, any number of memorable scenes and set pieces are given to the reader. Among them: Roland and Margaret, after years of being in a professional relationship, finally admitting their feelings for one another; the first test of the Artesian ray, with unexpected results; the Dipsey’s discovery of “Lake Shiver,” a body of water surrounded by icebergs and ice floes; the anchoring of a buoy at the North Pole, and Sammy Block’s speech claiming that pole for the U.S.A.; the discovery of the last whale in existence … a species thought to have gone extinct; the accident with the automatic shell; our Arctic explorers blasting a canal through the dense pack ice; Rovinski’s escape from the Dipsey, and Marcy’s pursuit of him; and, of course, Clewe’s descent into the depths of that 14-mile pit, and the discoveries that he makes therein. Given its futuristic setting (well, let’s just say a setting 50 years following the time of the book’s creation; an era that has seemingly not gone through a world war or two), any number of quaint and curious touches are to be had. And so, we see transatlantic ships with top and bottom hulls that can be separated upon docking; a bridge extending from Brooklyn to New Jersey across New York Harbor, with its central pier resting in the Battery; an early type of monorail; a United North America, made up of the U.S., Canada, Greenland (our current president would surely approve of this!), British America, British Columbia, Alaska, Mexico, Central America and the West Indies; Clewe’s three great inventions; the extinction of whales; a “fly-foot sledge,” capable of climbing up vertical surfaces; and the 40-mile-long tunnels that are part of the Great Straightcut Pacific Railroad. It is a neat, economical bit of world building, to be sure, if hardly a prescient one. The Great Stone of Sardis, I suppose we might say, is a double lost-world novel, showcasing not just the unknown world north of 86 degrees north latitude, but also the unexplored world that lies 14 1/8 miles beneath us. It is perfect fare for fans of sci-fi, lost-world stories, and perhaps for those with a liking for Victor Appleton II’s Tom Swift, Jr. books. I promise that you will be left wishing that Frank R. Stockton had penned a bunch of other books dealing with Roland Clewe and his remarkable inventions!

All of which, naturally, is not to say that Stockton’s book is flawless. Hardly so. For one thing, Clewe’s discovery of what lies 14 miles down, and his subsequent theory regarding our planet’s formation, initially struck this reader as being a tad on the silly side. Even Margaret is forced to exclaim to Roland “…it is absurd … why, people will think you are crazy … it is simply impossible…” And yet, the day after I finished reading Stockton’s admittedly hugely entertaining work, I saw a report online claiming that scientists have just discovered a body of water 700 kilometers beneath the Earth’s surface! “Trapped inside a type of blue rock called ringwoodite,” this ocean “might be holding three times more water than all the oceans on the surface combined”! My point is, who can say what lies far beneath our feet, or how far off Clewe’s theory might be? So I’m willing to concede that point. More unusual is the fact that the attainment of the pole in this book is shown to be … well, not that big of a deal, really. The journey getting there was all; the pole itself, just another spot on the ocean. Even Clewe readily admits that the reaching of the North Pole must pale into insignificance when stacked against all his other achievements … a surprising admission in a book that is at least half centered on that polar goal!

Some other minor problems present themselves here and there. There are a few instances of faulty grammar to be had (such as “if it was possible” rather than “were possible”), and a few times when the author refers to the last whale as a “great fish.” And while I’m nitpicking, if a vessel is headed south, wouldn’t a wind coming from the east strike its port side, not its starboard? But again, these are merely quibbles. Between Stockton’s easily readable writing style and his compelling use of multiple story lines, I found myself zipping through his book as smoothly and quickly as the Dipsey in open water. It is most assuredly recommended, for readers age 12 and up. Now, if only I could lay my hands on a copy of that Great War Syndicate…