Home Is Where the Carapace Is

by Alvaro Zinos-Amaro

The definitive giant-lobster story, and so much more than that.

A man of the twentieth century (presumably) McCulloch, offers himself as a subject for time travel into the future — only problem is, the people who've developed time travel aren't exactly sure how far he will go (although they expect a few decades, centuries, or perhaps even a millennium). To the people around McCulloch it will seem that he has only been gone a few seconds. He is cast into the very far future, and there he encounters an underwater culture, where giant lobsters and other forms of sea-life have developed an entire society, of sorts, including a Pilgrimage to the place of dry land at the Time of Molting, where they perform certain holy rituals. The arrival of McCulloch's disembodied consciousness into a giant lobster seems to some to be an Omen, a sign that the Time of Molting is at hand, and so the Pilgrimage begins. But one of the lobster's gods, a great octopus, corrects them and puts an end to the Pilgrimage. McCulloch's arrival thus causes quite a stir (ouch, that hurts!) and he comes to believe that he has played an important part in this world's affairs — which, to some extent, he has. He spends years inhabiting the same body as the giant lobster, even resisting a few attempts from his fellow Earth men to send him back to his time. Eventually, he returns, and gets back together with the woman he loved before he made the trip, Maggie. But his true "home" will forever remain the sea of the future, where he felt, with unparalleled intensity, that he truly belonged.

The story unfolds in a lovely way, alternating modern-day sections and future-earth sections with the well-timed and gentle rhythm of waves. There is certainly a strong sense of suspense, originating from various plot threads, among which the following two are prominent: the meaning of the Pilgrimage and its ultimate success, and the fate of McCulloch. In the introduction to it (in The Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 1: Secret Sharers) Silverberg states that he "deliberately intended "Homefaring" as a sleek and modern version of the sort of imagination-stirring tale of wonder" that the editor Donald A. Wollheim had enjoyed reading many years ago, as a young man. He certainly succeeds, but I think goes beyond that, exploring man's sensibilities and the importance of feeling that one belongs, wherever and however that may be, through excellently-crafted prose descriptions.

The protagonist of "Homefaring" feels a sense of complete belonging, with the lobsters, as he has never done before (and never will again, so he says himself). There seems to me to spring forth a wonderful duality from this approach: 1) the sense of disconnection to our reality, to our society, so essential to post-modernism and the angst therewith associated is well treated, making McCulloch feel like a real character, someone with whom it is easy enough to identify, like so many other Silverberg characters; 2) from an evolutionary point of view, our origin is the sea, so there is the undercurrent in the story that returning there would provide some kind of fulfillment, make our cycle of existence symmetrical, even, as it does with McCulloch, perhaps only on a subconscious level.

Some other observations: