Robert Sheckley
The Alchemical Marriage of Alistair Crompton

I believe that human beings, the human species, are endowed with infinite potential. This means that, of course, over time there are no goals they cannot achieve in terms of scientific, economic, and cultural development, up to culminating, why not, in a subsequent evolutionary phase in which what will be considered significant 'upgrades' can be detected. It remains that our species is clearly in continuous evolution, and this is evident even when considering short-term statistical data, such as increased longevity. Even the height of today's men is greater than that of our ancestors. A hundred years ago.

I also believe it is true and demonstrable that man, the individual, inherently possesses infinite 'qualities,' meant as characteristics or abilities in general, although, for one reason or another, clearly, each of us is inclined to use and show only a part of them or demonstrates a particular preference and/or aptitude towards certain specialties, not considering the guidance that is given to each individual from childhood, as well as all the possible conditioning we are subjected to from birth and/or vary depending on the situations.

What, then, is what we call 'personality'? That definition with which we sum up and at the same time want to summarize the person we find before us. A description that does not necessarily have to be detailed. Even a few words can suffice to describe a personality. For instance, we might say that a person has an ordinary appearance, thus not attractive neither physically, mentally, nor spiritually, and who simultaneously leads a life almost in an obsessive-compulsive manner, and who has, as a sort of compensation, what can be defined as an intelligence above average.

A description which in this case was not intended to be random but to coincide with that of Alistair Crompton, the protagonist of this sci-fiction novel by Robert Sheckley ('The Alchemical Marriage of Alistair Crompton', 1978), who, a non-secondary detail, in addition to these characteristics that we might define as ordinary, too ordinary to sum up what seems to be an incomplete personality (and we will soon see why), actually possesses what we might define as an extraordinary sense of smell. A talent that allows him to hold a prominent position at Psicoprofumi, led by the legendary John Blount, and the company is a leader across the galaxy concerning the manufacturing of perfumes that, due to extraterrestrial odorous substances, have the capacity to evoke dreams and visions.

The life of the 35-year-old Alistair Crompton, who could also be defined as a professionally successful man, something that, however, does not bring him any particular satisfaction (of course, he is incomplete), is nonetheless marked by a particular story concerning events that occurred from his birth. Up until the age of ten, Alistair grew up seemingly normally, also showing a certain tendency towards introspection which at some point began to lead to real crises: the child would completely distance himself from reality, remaining for hours on end staring into the void. He soon became susceptible to mood swings and bouts of anger in which he exhibited violent behaviors. It was only at the age of twelve that he was diagnosed with the 'schizophrenia' virus, whose only cure then consisted of the so-called 'Massive Splitting', which operated through the use of a Mikkleton projector, identifying and retaining the dominant personality and sequestering the others, which were then introduced into the passive psychoreceptive substance of an adult android with a maximum lifespan of 45 years ('Durier'). According to Federal Law, personality reintegration could not be attempted before the age of thirty and at the discretion of all the different developed personalities, especially the dominant one, which alone had the power to incorporate and reunite them all.

It is at the peak of his professional career that Alistair, feeling deeply incapable of escaping the limited confines of his character and solely desiring to achieve that wonderful variety of contradictions and passions, that humanity that distinguished all other human beings, decides to leave everything and travel across the galaxy in search of the two Duriers, the bearers of his other two personalities, and attempt reintegration.

I don't think Robert Sheckley would be new or unknown to a science fiction reader and enthusiast. New Yorker, deceased in 2005, he can be considered one of the greatest authors of the genre (his output of both novels and stories is incredibly vast) and one of the brightest, capable time and again of sketching different stories and characters in situations that are also parodic and/or satirical and address social themes or, as in this specific case, psychological-individual ones, with a certain irony.

And yes, individual, because in his difficult search for his two missing personalities, which at some point will become three (four in total), all in open conflict with each other, we cannot truly say that Alistair Crompton has betrayed himself from the beginning. And so does the author Robert Sheckley, as if wanting to play with us readers and revealing to us his 'intent' from the start. Crompton, when he decides he wants to reintegrate, reunite with his two other personalities to make up for what he perceives as his shortcomings, to the extent of abandoning all his habits and embarking on a journey that will prove to be adventurous and simultaneously (for the reader) entertaining, has already crossed those boundaries that his limited nature should have imposed upon him. With this simple input, he has already overcome those barriers that he believes have always limited his complete personality development due to the splitting.

The author's intent, as a result, is obviously parodic and didactic at the same time. Just read the rest of the novel to consider that Crompton's personality may be limited but no more than many others could be; practically all others. He is incomplete because it is somehow a particular vision of human nature that always wants us incomplete. We are always searching for something. God, love, money. Many times we seek and ardently desire something we don't really need or we wish to be someone else. But the fact is that, at the core, we might indeed have everything we need and can already be different. The point is that we must want it but at the same time have that clarity that makes us aware that we cannot escape from ourselves. Something that perhaps metaphorically constitutes the Massive Splitting. This feeling of incompleteness and dissatisfaction is undoubtedly something that, in fact, can (should, at least, always should) constitute a sort of push, a spring that should follow a process that cannot solely be a reaction, very often indeed it is so, but we can discuss how reactivity is not always an exclusively defensive principle, but must be realized in an active and conscious manner.

Of course, it's not easy. And it's not the time for easy morals, however, even my considerations are something that will remain in my inner self and for the continuation of my existence as something unresolved. Unless, of course, I decide to go in search of my other personalities hoping that they somehow deem it useful to proceed with the fusion. Meanwhile, the rest is Robert Sheckley. Vast galaxies and worlds populated by different ancient incredible species, sometimes endowed with peculiar intelligence and an irony incomprehensible to us poor earthlings, other times crude and more inclined to physical confrontation, perhaps in open conflict with the inconvenient human colonizers of worlds aggressive by nature. In the middle, humanity as its complex individuality, forced in its misery to inner battles and fantastic adventures without time or space, where panzers led by field marshal Rommel parade along South Orange Avenue, clashing against fifty Swiss guards armed with pikes, a boatload of bloodthirsty Vikings, then a detachment of irregular Hungarian cavalry commanded by von Suppe; from afar the Grande Armée crosses the Sierra Guadarrama and Apache reinforcements, Memrrillo, Atahualpa and his anonymous Incas, and a couple of Zulu battalions storm the field, until in this boundless and irregular, distorted world of battles, some decision and/or compromise of some kind is reached. Even if that of war can be a permanent state or at least continue for a very long time...

What a mess. Let's do this. You know what comes to mind. If we really have to find a moral to this story, that isn't the one contained within the novel (or at least not solely), I want to look at the story of the chilly penguin, Pablo, who ardently dreams of living in a warm place, South America, and who does indeed reach it after leaving his natural habitat and embarking on an adventurous and dangerous journey. Yet... Once there, while basking in the sun on the back of a hammock and sipping vodka and lime juice (what Philip Marlowe would simply call 'juice'), he cannot overcome the nostalgia for home. 'These penguins are never satisfied.' But thankfully, sometimes, historically, there is that desire, that urge, that irresistible push to set out on a journey in search of something, and which would then be ourselves, in a process that is, yes, individual, but when historicized, it concerns human beings as a whole. Whatever the outcome of the search, sometimes this can suffice, giving in itself meaning to an entire existence and to human life.