Some Will Not Die

by Algis Budrys

The plague struck, and ninety percent of Earth's population died. Those who survived tried to maintain some sort of civilization...which meant more killing, as it turned out. But bit by bit, generation by generation, people began to succeed. With occasional setbacks.

Genres: Science Fiction, Post Apocalyptic, Apocalyptic, Fiction, Dystopia, Science Fiction Fantasy, Survival

159 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1961

About the author

Algis Budrys was a Lithuanian-American science fiction author, editor, and critic. He was also known under the pen names Frank Mason, Alger Rome, John A. Sentry, William Scarff, Paul Janvier, and Sam & Janet Argo.

Called "AJ" by friends, Budrys was born Algirdas Jonas Budrys in Königsberg in East Prussia. He was the son of the consul general of the Lithuanian government, (the pre-World War II government still recognized after the war by the United States, even though the Soviet-sponsored government was in power throughout most of Budrys's life). His family was sent to the United States by the Lithuanian government in 1936 when Budrys was 5 years old. During most of his adult life, he held a captain's commission in the Free Lithuanian Army.

Budrys was educated at the University of Miami, and later at Columbia University in New York. His first published science fiction story was The High Purpose, which appeared in Astounding Science Fiction in 1952. Beginning in 1952 Budrys worked as editor and manager for such science fiction publishers as Gnome Press and Galaxy Science Fiction. Some of his science fiction in the 1950s was published under the pen name "John A. Sentry", a reconfigured Anglification of his Lithuanian name. Among his other pseudonyms in the SF magazines of the 1950s and elsewhere, several revived as bylines for vignettes in his magazine Tomorrow Speculative Fiction, is "William Scarff". He also wrote several stories under the names "Ivan Janvier" or "Paul Janvier." He also used the pen name "Alger Rome" in his collaborations with Jerome Bixby.

Budrys's 1960 novella Rogue Moon was nominated for a Hugo Award, and was later anthologized in The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume Two (1973). His Cold War science fiction novel Who? was adapted for the screen in 1973. In addition to numerous Hugo Award and Nebula Award nominations, Budrys won the Science Fiction Research Association's 2007 Pilgrim Award for lifetime contributions to speculative fiction scholarship. In 2009, he was the recipient of one of the first three Solstice Awards presented by the SFWA in recognition of his contributions to the field of science fiction.

Budrys was married to Edna Duna; they had four sons. He last resided in Evanston, Illinois. He died at home, from metastatic malignant melanoma on June 9, 2008.

Reviews

[Tim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hmm... what to say? First, a general comment. Algis Budrys was once considered an expert on novel writing. He still should be and reading his work has a LOT to offer the would-be novelist. Not only is it an entertaining read, it has a lot to be learned from the way it is written and executed. That the name Algis Budrys seems to be nearly forgotten is a shame.

As for this particular book. In general there isn't much more that I can add that others who like it haven't already said. It has a unique take on a post-apocalyptic future and after all the zombie-movies and other dystopian works produced in droves today, a refreshing one at that.

One thing I will say is that I don't know what Budrys political leanings were and I don't care. All too often I hear people ragging on past writers for that reason and it gets framed, not in the time of the writer, but in today's polarized views. I think for the myopic, there is room to get upset with Budrys - from left or right. he gives different characters different leanings, and most none or neutral. In the end, he doesn't make any sermons or judgments, except maybe that men have to live their lives in accordance with their (and society's) current state. And that state changes, often faster than people notice. Maybe those are good words for any time including now.

[Sharon Barrow Wilfong · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book to my husband as we were traveling from Virginia Beach to Washington D.C. I think if I was not reading this to Josh I would have given up on it. However, I am glad I finished it because the story was not without merit. I will briefly describe the plot, what I liked and what I didn't like.

A plague has hit America and the country is plunged into a culture of barbarism. Everyone is out for themselves, pillaging and looting and killing or being killed.

In New York City, Matthew Garvin is one man who struggles to survive, even killing his best friend (which is understandable because his friend wanted to eat him). He stumbles across a woman who is trying to steal medicine out of an abandoned pharmacy for her father. Garvin and the girl team up, cover each other for snipers on the roofs of buildings.

They finally reach the apartment but the father dies anyway. Garvin lives with the young woman and together they manage to scrape out a living.

One day, the encounter their neighbors and risk getting to know them. They team up and with the leadership of his neighbor, Gustav Berendsten, they eventually unite with all the tenants of their building. This leads ultimately to uniting with other apartments, which inevitably leads to turf and power wars. Berendsten wants to unite all people and he ruthlessly attempts it after building a powerful army which fights other factions.

The story jumps back and forth between prologues which are in the future and the past. Each new section takes place with a different generation. We see that America develops from tribal warfare, to gentry that fights with other towns to people eventually learning to live civilly with each other.

I liked how Budrys kept the story growing and not stagnate. We see multiple generations and how they differ from their forefathers. Budrys writes convincing, powerful characters that are worth reading about.

I did not like the detailed information about war strategy. It was just too mundane for me. However, Josh did like that so hopefully I provided everyone with enough information to decided whether this book is for them.

[James · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was surprised and disappointed that this didn't engage me more, as I remember the few other Budrys novels that I've read as being quite powerful. But Some Will Not Die seemed to meander and drag. There were a few interesting bits at the beginning and the end, but I could not get into the bulk of it.

There isn't much of a plot really, but just an outline of the process of plague survivors reuniting the scraps of civilization. It seemed to me that Budrys just tacked on the characters and the family dramas in a hasty and sloppy attempt to humanize what is essentially more of an abstract treatise than a novel. He didn't find a good way to merge the more theoretical aspects of what he was trying to convey with an engaging story.

This is also a good example of vintage sci-fi that really shows its age. It felt quite dated for a variety of reasons, particularly in its treatment of the women, who are relegated more or less to the role of a natural resource that the men compete for. It's true that there are a few lines tossed off here and there suggesting what the women themselves want is important, but since that generally aligns with what their men want, they're of no consequence to the story.

Unfortunately this is not a Budrys title I'll be planning to read again, nor would I recommend to anyone else, unless you're just particular about reading every post-apocalyptic novel you can get your hands on.

[Tom · Rating 1 out of 5]

A post-apocalyptic political epic of sorts that never quite manages to sell me on the Christ/Kennedy figure that the plot pivots around. Interesting that the original drafts were written in 1954, 1957, and 1961, which I failed to notice until I had already finished and imposed the Kennedy framework on the whole thing. Maybe some of those parallels were beefed up in the 1978 update? Either way, this has the inescapable feeling of a book that was pieced together four times across a span of 24 years: not the most compelling journey as a reader.

[Beth · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another entry in my mid-century post-apocalypse obsession. This one was published in 1961 and based on a previously unpublished book written in the mid-'50s. (The copy I read was an actual 1961 copy, and it was kind of cool to know that this particular book was a year older than me! Also in about the same shape as me.)

This was a really solid book in the genre. While it didn't have the emotional impact on me that so many of these books do, it was an interesting study in both the psychology and sociology of surviving an apocalypse—which in this case, was some form of unspecified plague that killed 90% of the earth's population. We learn nothing about the plague days, with everything in the book taking place after it has come and gone.

The book has the usual "women are minor characters who are good for nothing but making dinner" mentality, and although I know it's coming in these books, I still find it jarring. War is made, rival factions spring up, strange ideas about Integrity (with a capital I) take hold among some, but humanity finds a way to survive and thrive and even find some love along the way.

This was also an exceptionally well-written book, with a nice flow and evocative imagery that made me picture the deserted streets of New York City as well as the wide open prairie.

I'm glad I was able to hunt this one down (it wasn't an easy find) because it was good enough to make me stay up until 4 AM to finish it!

[Klaus Mattes · Rating 3 out of 5]

SF-unerfahren, wie ich lange war, kam ich spät drauf: Science Fiction läuft nahezu immer auf ein anderes Genre hinaus. Kriegsroman und Western wären es hier beim Post-Pandemie-Zivilisationsbruch in den USA. Genauer gesagt, eigentlich sogar eine, mit allerlei Kriegsszenen dekorierte, welthistorisch-anthropologische Betrachtung, die auf die Erkenntnis rausläuft, der Mensch ist zu böse, um ihn sich der ungestörten Entfaltung seiner Individualitäten zu überlassen. Der Mensch bedarf eines Zwangs zur Ordnung, der von einer machtvollen Führung auszugehen hat, die selbst nicht von Egoismus, sondern von einer Moral geleitet wird und eine klare Vision hat.

Es ist, auf zwei Kurzgeschichten aus der ersten Hälfte der 1950-er Jahre zurückgehend und zu Zeiten von Präsident John F. Kennedy erschienen, definitiv kein Werk über die Lichtgestalt JFK, sondern ein typisches Werk des Kalten Krieges und eines ausgesprochen männlichen, abstrahierenden Blicks auf die „Unabänderlichkeiten historischer Prozesse“. Nicht nur wird auf Edward Gibbons „Verfall und Untergang des Römischen Reiches“ aus der späten Zeit der englischen Aufklärung angespielt, sondern genau dieses, sehr amerikanisch gewendet, ist geschichtsphilosophischer Ansatz: Die Amerikaner, auch die in dieser Erzählung, sind die Römer der Moderne und folglich dienen sie einer Vision. Sie setzen ihre Macht und Kriegskunst dafür ein, nach und nach all die barbarischen Kleingemeinschaften in ihrer Nachbarschaft zu überrollen und in ihr System hinein zu verflechten. Ziel ist: Pax Romana, Wohlstand, Bildung, Sicherheit für alle, Schutz der Familie.

Der Vorwurf, das Buch wäre mit dem Verstreichen der Jahre ganz „daneben“ geraten, weil es paternalistisch über seine Frauenfigueren hinweg walzt, trifft nicht die Sache: All diese Figuren und Familien wurden von Budrys nun mal dazu geschaffen, sein Konzept eines Prozesses von Zivilisation zu veranschaulichen. Von dem er behauptet, ohne rücksichtsloses militärisches Durchgreifen gehe es leider nicht. So betrachtet, sind Frauen und Kinder stets Beiwerk für die Handlungen, derer der Romankern bedarf. Frauen setzen keine Panzer brechenden Waffen ein, sondern sie passen auf, während ein Eintopf brodelt und das Baby Bäuerchen macht.

Wo gehobelt wird, fallen Späne, sagt das Buch. Allerdings greift es nicht zum post-apokalyptischen Kult um eine archaische Banditengesellschaft (x-mal verwendet in Stoffen von SF und Fantasy, man denke an „Conan“ oder „Mad Max“), um dabei dem faschistischen, männlichen Kämpfer zu huldigen, sondern, wiederum ziemlich amerikanisch, die Keimzelle der verschiedenen Geschichten auf verschiedenen Zeitebenen kommt vom Showdown im Western her. Ein vormaliger Gesetzloser wird von panischen, planlosen, geschäftchenmacherischen Handwerkern in einem Wüstenstädtchen verpflichtet, die Gemeinde von dem „schwarzen Frank“ zu befreien (um ein Bild aus Leones „Once Upon A Time In The West“ zu zitieren).

Den Kalten Krieg habe ich nicht „nur so“ erwähnt. Budrys vertritt hier eine Strömung amerikanischer Heilserwartung, die man unter George Bush Junior und Barack Obama noch gut beobachten konnte. „Wir wollen eigentlich kein Blutvergießen, aber in der Welt trollen zu viele Hasardeure, Kleptokraten, Ego-Shooter, amoralische Freaks. Das wird nix, wenn dann nicht einer der Chef ist, der dann so mächtig ist, dass man sich nicht mehr rantraut an ihn. Good Governance für alle, aber zuerst mal wir als der Chef für alle!“ Leider, das sahen wir, endet das gelegentlich wie Irak 2003, mit von Drohnen getöteten Kindern in Pakistan oder Afghanistan, dem restlos zerrütteten Libanon, den Untaten der ISIS, den Toten in Gaza. Das Problem muss damit zusammenhängen, dass der amerikanische Held dem Primat einer „Weltordnung“ folgt und derweil die unmittelbaren Interessen und Träume der an den jeweiligen Orten real vorhandenen Menschen aus dem Blick verliert. Am Ende bringen einen die um, denen man Freiheit und Recht bringen wollte. So auch hier im Roman.

Ich habe, wie gesagt, in meinem Leben wenig Science Fiction gelesen. An dieses Taschenbuch kam ich, weil ich mir irgendwann eine Liste mit kanonischen SF-Romanen kopiert hatte, wo allerdings nicht „Some Will Not Die“ des gebürtigen Litauers Budrys stand, sondern sein Buch davor: „Rogue Moon“, das ich nicht kenne. Dieses hier war in deutscher Übersetzung gerade unschlagbar billig. Ich ließ mich von einer unterirdischen Titel-Illustration der Moewig-Ausgabe von 1981 verführen, die einen halbnackten, mit Fell bekleideten Kämpfer in den Straßen Manhattans vorstellt, eine nackte Frau zu seinen Füßen, eine übergroße Ratte, die von einem Subway-Abgang her angreift. Weil ich mir nicht allzu viel erwartete, jedenfalls nicht die staatstheoretischen Erwägungen, denen Budrys sich widmet, spekulierte ich auf eine peinliche, schmierige, voyeuristische Endkampffantasie mit ein paar Vergewaltigungen, das Ganze womöglich unterhaltsam aufgezogen. (Es taucht keine Ratte im Buch auf, die Leute tragen die gewohnte amerikanische Kleidung, Sexszenen gibt es keine, getötet wird allerdings pausenlos, sehr amerikanisch eben.)

Auch bezüglich der finalen Virus-Pandemie, die in wenigen Tagen 80 Prozent der Bevölkerung ausgelöscht hat, sollte man sich nichts erwarten. Das ist bloßer Vorwand des Autors, damit er ein Zivilisationsexperiment starten kann. (Nicht von ungefähr erinnert das auch an „Lord of the Flies“ von William Golding. „Was ist der Mensch?“, ist die Leitfrage, nicht: „Wer besiegt wen und bekommt die Prinzessin zur Braut?“) Budrys will, dass Manhattan noch da ist, die Ordnung und Gemeinschaft aber komplett weg. Es interessiert ihn nicht, ob die dezimierte Menschheit auf Grund des immer noch vorhandenen Wissens (es ist nichts zerstört, alles steht und liegt herum) vielleicht in der Lage wäre, die Energieversorgung wieder in Gang zu bringen, weil diese vielleicht das Rückgrat der kapitalistischen Wirtschaft wäre, diese wiederum die Mustervorlage für die Art Zivilisation, die ihm vorschwebt. Sondern er geht davon aus, dass es in diversen Lagerhäusern Konservendosen, Benzintanks, Waffen und Panzer noch für Jahrzehnte gibt.

Nur ist auf einmal jeder allein bzw. mit seiner kleinen Familie isoliert, die er nicht gegen mutierte Ratten, sondern gegen das Gesetz des Westerns, Desperados im Hinterhalt, verteidigen muss. Mit der Knarre in der Hand. Man wohnt in einer der oberen Etagen eines zehnstöckigen Hauses, da ist sonst entweder keiner mehr oder er ist so klug, sich nie hören und sehen zu lassen, sonst müsste man ihn, ohne zu fragen, wegputzen, bevor einen selbst so ein Geschick ereilt.

In mehreren Generation tauchen Angehörige der Familien Garvin und Berendtsen auf, wie gesagt, vor allem kämpfende Männer. Das springt dann immer wieder mal hin und her, wer von denen gerade für Verständigung, Friedensschluss, den Rückzug ins Private eintritt und wer dagegen rebelliert: „Solange wir nicht alle möglicherweise Gefährlichen (mit unseren Waffen, deren Treibstoff und Patronen allmählich knapp werden, - weil sie nicht geschafft haben, sich wieder zu industrialisieren) überwältigen, wird es keinen Frieden für unsere Kinder geben. Zuerst müssen wir kämpfen!“

Wie beim Western „High Noon“ mit Gary Cooper macht es sich am Ende gut, wenn der Siegreiche sein Mädchen heiratet und ins Haus zurückkehrt. Vorher wird in diesem Roman allerdings ständig Krieg geführt. Das sollte man wissen, bevor man zu lesen beginnt.

[· · Rating 4 out of 5]

(15 March, 2021)

So believable and so real.

In a post-plague world, there are persons with ideals, looking to the future and there are persons with very immediate concerns - the two rarely overlap. It is a world of 'might is right', but what is right?

Many themes are present, even if not always evident Budrys knew what he wanted to say about them (or I might be too dense to grasp his intentions). A sort of ever-shifting Utilitarianism makes an appearance, by numerous parties; a name might be able to unite people; the US constitution's 2nd amendment, in the hands of the always all-too-easily lead sheep, is ridiculed; (re)unification is untenable, made so by short-sightedness and xenophobia; personal honour is the catalyst for violence, all this amid very compelling stories of survival.

It is a world in which the notion of family is constantly redefined, a world where good, or bad, people do good, or bad, things with good, or bad, intentions in mind. Morals and (means of) survival are in constant flux and the question of who is ultimately right is never answered adequately because, you know,... humans. Perhaps this is what the author intended .

[Joachim Boaz · Rating 2 out of 5]

Full review: https://sciencefictionruminations.com...

"My love/hate relationship with Algis Budrys continues!

Some Will Not Die (1961, rev. 1978) is a multi-generational future history post-apocalyptic thriller. A plague wipes out the vast majority of humankind, and the remnants coalesce around the figure of Mathew Garvin. Years later after his death Garvin takes on heroic adjectives by those seeking to replicate the stability he brought (through violence and perseverance) to New York City. The novel follows the evolution of society [...]"

[Melissa · Rating 3 out of 5]

Disjointed flashes of a post apocalyptic future. Strange ending.

[Jason Emo · Rating 2 out of 5]

It seemed a little boring for a zombie novel.

[Oscar Maquito · Rating 3 out of 5]

*3.5/5

[Bobby Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

But a whole lot will.

[Ike · Rating 3 out of 5]

One word = partial

[Jane · Rating 2 out of 5]

Retro. Misogynistic. Read 'of its time.' With interesting ideas about war, community and what men do in the post apocalypse.

[Joseph Hirsch · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another postapocalyptic novel, this one a little less dark and a bit more heavy-handed in its messaging than the usual story in this SF subgenre.

The plague has struck, and over ninety percent of humanity died in the initial aftermath. Those who are left and unfortunate enough to be city dwellers must fight building by building, then block-by-block, to repel the savage hordes and recreate civilization.

This part of the book was interesting, and featured some solid “men’s fiction” style descriptions of urban combat and myriad adventures, scrapes, and close calls. The parts showing the early development of a city-state within the shell of NYC were also interesting. Seeing neighborhoods subsume entire boroughs and watching internecine warfare between resource-strapped bands of humans was cool. It reminded me a bit of that movie where Yule Brenner shows up in the shattered ruins of a city to kick everyone’s ass and plant tomato seeds (really.) I’m too lazy to look up the title, but the movie exists, trust me.

For some ill-advised reason, then, author Algis Budrys decides to widen his ken and make the thing a multigenerational saga. It’s a move that makes little sense. In a genre that prizes action over characterization, it’s sometimes hard to care about characters, even the protagonist. The task gets no easier for the author when he begins to write about the doings of the children and then grandchildren of people I didn’t honestly care much for in the first place.

Then there’s the other problem, the deal-killer for me since this thing, while intermittently fun, grinded to a halt when the ham-handed soliloquies and asides came. Budrys seems to want to make a point about the social contract—Hobbesian realpolitik versus Rosseau-esque fantasy, how civilization’s protection involves tradeoffs in personal freedom.

It’s not that I don’t agree with him (I’m typing this from my house, not some all-against-all hellscape), but the didactics further flatten the two-dimensional characters. This apparently was his first novel, and as first novels go, I have read—and written—far, far worse. Considering English was not Mr. Budrys’s native tongue and there are other (perhaps better) versions of the same book floating around, I’m giving this one a mulligan.

One thing it’s got going for it—at least my version—is a really cool wraparound cover, made of a waxy substance with an almost grosgrain quality to it. It’s not quite matte, and it’s not quite glossy, but some kind of interstitial level of tactility between the two. The images are also badass, featuring a lanky black leather-clad wasteland warrior on the front, and what looks like a be-afroed Jimmy Caan on the back, flanked by a female soldier whose red kerchief and blue boilersuit make her look a bit like Rosie the Riveter. In the background, a red inferno smolders as skyscrapers and high-rises begin toppling. It gives me a good, nostalgic seventies vibe, like a mashup of “The Omega Man” and “The Poseidon Adventure.”

Someone reanimate Chuck Heston (did any mosquitoes bite him and then get trapped in amber?) and let’s get this thing adapted.

[Checkman · Rating 2 out of 5]

Starts off strong but falls off about half-way through. It's my understanding that this is a compilation of several short stories. If correct it goes a long way to explaining the disjointed feeling that the story develops. I've been wanting to read this one for a few years despite the so-so reviews. They aren't wrong, it's not great. But I'll be holding onto it as for its historical worth. Despite its weak points I've no doubt it was read by later authors such as Stephen King and it isn't terrible.

[Michael Hill · Rating 2 out of 5]

Ninety percent of the population die from a plague and civilization collapses with people shooting each other for supplies. While farmers guard their crops and animals, somehow food does not run out in towns and over decades, people try to rebuild armed communities. The book did not address many of the problems of dwindling supplies of everything.

[Jeff Turney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good no nonsense style. Maybe not as cohesive as I might have liked... Jumped around a bit but all and all a pretty good read.

[Mathew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bit of a weird story this, especially towards the end of the book. A mysterious plague ravages the world, but we read mostly about the survivors of New York, forming small pockets of resistance to plague carriers and rival bands. When the story moves from the city many years later, it takes a bit of twist. Good if you like an 'end of the world' story, but as I say it's a bit confusing at the end of the book.

[Laura]

personal note- UB