Defending "Spock Must Die!"

James Blish saved my Star Trek Soul

DISCLAIMER: This is a GoodReads Review. I spent enough time writing it, I figured it belonged here. Also, I’m old.

Spock Must Die! (Star Trek Adventures, #1)
by James Blish

"I'm a fan..." they said. "This is pedestrian"... they whined.

Ah, modern readers, with your youtubes and eternal Star Trek series available at your fingertips, you know not of what you hold in your hands, the ancient artifact known as "Spock Must Die!" You see, there was a time when the youtubes and internets did not exist. I know I speak heresy, but hear me out -

there was also a time when Star Trek was not yet available to viewers. Although it was in syndication, for many it was out of reach, to be available only on the East and West Coast through the magic of Kaiser Broadcasting.

That's right, gentle readers: for those of us not blessed with a local Kaiser Station, Star Trek simply vanished with a cool transporter sound, leaving fans desperate for more. Those of you fattened on the endless offerings of your device's technological cornucopia do not know the absolute misery this wreaked on millions of adoring fans of the OST franchise. You do not know the storyline starvation that ensued, or the withdrawals that seized the science fiction world...

enter James Blish.

This paragon of a man, this rescuer of fandom, did what no other at the time was willing to do - he put a Star Trek book in the hands of readers. He did it in record time, during the middle of a health crisis with nods to canon and accurate portrayals of beloved Characters. Blish did all this, and with a unique story to boot.

I will not laugh at my unsophisticated childish self; I will not mock my early-franchise ideals. To do so is to invoke the sins of the stewards of the Star Wars franchise, who view everything though the retroactive lens of the now. Instead, I will tell you what happened the day my Father brought home the book, from a real book store:

I read it. I loved it. I read it again and was thrilled with the outcome and the intrigue. Spock, my first real nerd-girl crush, was loving portrayed and I wept for his pain. Capt. James T. Kirk, my next great crush, was portrayed as the true friend, as I had always dreamed he would be. Blish's work satisfied the longing within, to know that the characters still lived, that the memory would not die with the unfinished series.

I had no way to know that nationwide syndication would come; I had no inkling that an animated series, cable tv, sequels, or movies would be born... I only knew that the Book had come, and the Book was good. The complaints of others regarding "Spock Must Die!" are borne out of satiation on the Star Trek Franchise, spirits gorged on plenty...

I run my hands across the broken spine of a beloved book, decades past its prime, spurned by so many who know not what it means to hunger for a story. The critics turn back to their feast, not realising that "Spock Must Die!" was the first dish on their groaning table:

but I will not forget. In my time of famine, James Blish fed my needy Star Trek soul.