100 Books Like Metropolis

I knew the film Blade Runner before I read this, the novel upon which it's based, but I was not prepared for the richer complexities of the novel.

My favorite parts of the novel, a bizarre new religion and the extinction of all but human and animal life, barely make it into the film. Even the androids, built to be slaves, are much more nuanced and complex than in the film. I loved the conclusion of the book, which affirms the beauty of life, both natural and mechanical.

The classic of classics, 2001: A Space Odyssey, offers a setting that could well be a reality in just a few years. The story begins long ago when alien intelligence leaves a marker for the apes that inhabit the Earth. The only problem is this marker is on the moon. But when humans are finally smart enough to discover it, it sends a signal to Jupiter. One of the inferences in the sequels to 2001 is that the alien intelligence itself is artificial—the product of a race that has delegated control and development of the galaxy to machines.  

To pursue man's destiny, the mission to Jupiter must be placed in the care of the HAL 9000 computer. HAL is presented as the perfect mimic of human emotions and the ideal caretaker of its human cargo. But to carry out its mission, HAL must do something it can't. It must… show more.

I dearly loved Isaac Asimov's vision of the robot. Although the idea of a mechanical man has entertained audiences for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, Asimov dealt with the reality of how humans will coexist with our intelligent creations. 

Prior to Asimov's three laws we had always thought of robots delivering evil as surrogates of their evil masters. And always with human intent. Evil emperors trying to rule the world is typical. But Asimov showed us the danger of machines that are their own masters. 

Machine learning and reasoning are now a reality different from anything humans can conceive. We are limited in our comprehension of machines by our biology and evolutionary context. But they are not limited in their comprehension of us or themselves. Just ask AlphaGo move 37. I am certain Asimov's three laws will never be enough to ensure our survival in a world where we… show more.

It’s science fiction writers like Carol Emshwiller that must be mentioned here, especially when she writes about Ruthie and Joe, who own a robot whom they call the “grey-green” thing, the hound, the Rover, or sometimes just “bitch”. In order to increase their chances for a successful hunt, Joe programs the robot to track a bear, and it does so with ease. Eventually Joe commands the “grey-green thing” to actually kill it, and the robot carries out its deadly mission. At the end you shudder at the thought of the careless use of the machine, not to mention what would happen if the “grey-green thing” had been programmed to kill a human being.

Again, it covers the Horror genre broadly (year by year) but introduced me to a lot more European entries that I had never heard of, as well as horror films from Japan and other countries. I disagree with many of the critical opinions in the book but that doesn’t make them any less interesting.  

Dark and violent, this twelfth-century tale of love and revenge is a compelling vision of medieval values, combining many of the tropes of later pseudo-medieval sagas – treasure, gory battles, a cloak of invisibility, sexual deception and a dragon – with the spiritual angst that the later tales miss. From Siegfried’s brief encounter with a scaly beast to the fire-and-blood blitzkrieg of the climax – a ferocious battle in the hall of Attila the Hun – the story is told with breathless passion. Whether it glamourises war, or warns against its cost, is a matter of enduring debate. The tale has certainly had its share of cranky fans, from the silent movie filmmaker Fritz Lang to Heinrich Himmler, a testament to its provocative power.

Which version to read? The Penguin edition, translated by A.T. Hatto and published in 1965, offers a very readable prose version that captures the tale’s fiery… show more.

This study was published during my student years, and I was instantly attracted to Žižek’s unorthodox approach and his idiosyncratic rhetoric. The idea that (Lacanian) theory and (Hegelian) philosophy only make sense insofar as one can explain it to two ‘idiots’ by using examples from ‘popular’ culture, and film in particular, struck a chord with me.

The way Žižek can discuss within only a few pages a Stephen King adaptation, a spaghetti western, and a Fritz Lang film has confused several of his critics, but it has been mind-blowing to me to the present day. Bold and thought-provoking as his works are, he is the Tadej Pogačar within the academic world. The Slovenian cyclist Pogačar could become world champion even after a crazy attack; Žižek can bring crazy associations to a proper end.

Given my belief that Thanos had a point (what science-math-oriented person can’t tremble at the algorithm of over-population?), it’s no surprise I enjoyed an anthology of different takes on mad scientists and what drives them. I got my fix of humorously boastful ego-maniacs, such as Professor Incognito’s itemized “apology” to his girlfriend (with attempted sincerity because of their couple’s therapist). And the variety of these tales exposed me to a bevy of villainy, from a psychologist who uses the “soft” sciences to unleash the insanity within stable scientists because “everyone deserves the opportunity to go mad” to a side-hustling villainy coach whose budget forces her to choose between new tech plating or weapons-grade plutonium. What’s a would-be world conqueror to do? Relatable.

This book, in this day and age, might actually hit a little too close to home, but it is worthy of a read anyway. Delozier writes a thrilling tale about a mad scientist that has created a deadly virus that could wipe out half the population. It's up to psychologist and empath Dr. Persephone Smith to track him down and stop him. Type and Cross, Delozier's debut novel, is a medical thriller that intermixes just enough medical terminology to make the premise sound plausible without losing the reader. Delozier's writing isn't overburdened by over-embellished description or unwieldy dialog which makes the book a pleasure to read.

Unlike your traditional trilogy, the second book in the series acts as an origin story of sorts, while the third wraps up the storyline from this book.

The wonkiest of the best books on DARPA is an anthology of essays on how DARPA works, starting with some background on its origins. This book should be of interest to anyone trying to emulate DARPA in generating ideas and bringing them to life quickly and efficiently.

Among the success factors outlined by academics, analysts, and past DARPA program managers: low overhead (DARPA has no labs of its own, instead relying on contractors), minimal bureaucracy with only two layers of management, and organizational independence (although it is part of the U.S. Department of Defense, DARPA functions mostly autonomously). Editor and contributor Patrick Windham is married to Arati Prabhakar, a former DARPA director.