The Nostalgia Gene — Reading Companion

A Square in a Bop World

The opening establishes Edgar Evans through his speech and behavior. He is described as "the darling of the old ladies and the despair of the young," and his manners—inherited from a grandmother whose hand was kissed by a passing Barrymore—mark him as out of step. The narrator reports that one parent, dazed after meeting Edgar, said he "akshully called me 'sir,'" contrasting him with "them other punks" who use "Mac." This dialogue captures the era's slang and the generational divide.

Edgar's social isolation is detailed: he finds bop talk "a repulsive travesty upon English" and his peers' music like "the braying of asses in agony." His dates fail because his courtly approach is mistaken for a "new dreamy line," but when no pass is made, interest cools. The story uses these specifics to ground his nostalgia in concrete social friction, not vague yearning.

From Personal Longing to Genetic Legacy

The middle excerpt leaps forward in time, revealing that Edgar's descendants—and eventually most people—carry a "nostalgia gene" that drives them to escape their own era. The narrative voice becomes more direct, addressing the reader: "How many times this week have you read or heard a piece of news and wondered how much longer before the final, fatal mushrooms flare?" This shift from third-person to second-person implicates the reader in the same desire to flee.

The excerpt lists specific years—1939, 1959, 1962—and events like the "thieves' agreement" that averted missile launches. These details anchor the speculative premise in a recognizable Cold War timeline. The gene is described as a "seed of that desperate desire," spreading through time machines built by Susan's grandchildren and others. The tone remains matter-of-fact, treating the fantastic as inevitable.

Benjamin Reeves and the Dream Department

The later excerpt introduces Benjamin Reeves, a research engineer who "labored in the military vineyard" designing computers and control systems. His physical description—"tall, stooped a little, with limbs attached in that special loose way that makes a man amble rather than walk"—gives him a folksy, unassuming presence. He heads a study group in the "Dream Department," where creative thinking is valued over routine design.

Benjamin's firing is the story's comic-sardonic climax. Asked to study how to protect people from enemy missiles, his group's single recommendation is: "At the earliest warning, tell everybody to run like hell!" The military's response is to fire him, though the public statement says he is "resigning to pursue independent research." This episode encapsulates the story's critique of institutional absurdity and the tension between practicality and idealism.

Voice and Structure Across the Excerpts

The story's voice shifts from the opening's wry character sketch to the middle's direct address and the later's deadpan reportage. The opening uses colloquial dialogue and exaggerated contrasts—"square" versus "bop"—to establish Edgar's anachronism. The middle section breaks the fourth wall, asking the reader personal questions about news and nostalgia. The later section adopts a more observational tone, describing Benjamin's amble and his firing with understated humor.

Structurally, the excerpts move from individual to collective to individual again: Edgar's personal longing becomes a genetic trait, then focuses on Benjamin's resistance. The story does not resolve whether the gene is a curse or a release; it simply traces its spread. The reader is left to observe how each character's nostalgia manifests differently—Edgar's passive dreaming, Benjamin's active defiance—without a clear judgment.

These excerpts suggest a story that uses science fiction to examine a psychological and cultural phenomenon. The nostalgia gene is not explained scientifically; it is a narrative device that externalizes a common feeling. Readers may want to track how the tone shifts between sections and how the story balances satire of the military-industrial complex with sympathy for its characters. The ending, not included here, likely returns to Benjamin Reeves, whose modesty and loose-limbed demeanor hint at a quiet resolution.

That rainy afternoon, The Nostalgia Gene left me sitting with Edgar’s ache for a past he never truly had. The rain kept falling, and I found myself drifting to Black Amazon of Mars — Story, Setting & Ideas, where the longing isn’t for time but for somewhere far away. Strange, how both books live in that same quiet pull.