proceeded to forget him. Indeed, I cannot find a single major history of philosophy written in
England after World War II that grants him so much as a footnote.
His influence on the science fiction world, on the other hand, has been profound and self-
perpetuating. The concept of galactic empires reflected in the works of E.E. Smith, A.E. Van
Vogt, Isaac Asimov, and even television scripts of Star Trek, derive directly from Last and First
Men. Alien symbiotic life, engineered changes in the human form, ecology, overpopulation,
longevity, the history of future civilizations, and the telling of a story of other worlds from a
philosophical rather than an action approach—these are but a few of Stapledon’s major thematic
contributions to the science fiction that followed him.
Therefore, it was not unexpected, when he flew to America on March 23, 1949, to participate
in the Communist-inspired Cultural and Scientific Conference for Peace, that there would be
science fiction enthusiasts like myself eager to hear him. In the company of men for whom time
has not diminished my appellation "contemptible," he had little to say in this conference,
apparently being used as window dressing to lend the gathering a note of respectability. While in
this country Stapledon managed to spend one evening at the Hydra Club, a social group of
professional science fiction writers, but was unable to accept an invitation to a meeting of the
Eastern Science Fiction Association.
In the next decade relatively little attention was paid to Stapledon except for the issuance of
the collection To the End of Time (1953), edited by Basil Davenport. This is a handsome
omnibus volume of some 400,000 words comprising five major works: Last and First Men, Star
Maker, Odd John, Sirius and The Flames, the second, fourth and last being printed in the United
States for the first time. Because of the incredible flood of science fiction that was appearing that
year, however, the book failed to create a new stir of interest in Stapledon.
Here we must pause to note the specific (and possibly surprising) fact that aside from book
reviews, fewer than a dozen articles which by any stretch of the imagination could be called
important had been written about the man in all this time. It was not until a decade after his death
that the first comprehensive critical appraisal, my own "Olaf Stapledon: Cosmic Philospher,"
finally appeared. While researching this work, I became acutely aware that more information
about him was needed than was available from secondary sources. Any author whose main thrust
is philosophical and humanistic can have his work evaluated best in context with his own
background and personality.
In April, 1976, I visited his wife Agnes, as well as Wolfgang Brueck, a man who lived for
years in the Stapledon household virtually as an adopted son. The insights they supplied, together
with information available from other sources, make it possible to present a fuller picture of the
life, family, personality and motivations of Olaf Stapledon and to attach more relevant meanings
to declarations in his works.
The family has a most distinguished genealogy, with origins traced back to the early
fourteenth century (the name was then spelled "Stapeldon"). These are found in the Diocese of
Exeter Episcopal Register, specifically the book Register of Walter de Stapeldon, Bishop of
Exeter, compiled by the Rev. F.C. Hingeston Randolph, M.A. of Oxford, rector of Ringmore and
Prebendary of Exeter, published in London by George Bell and Sons in 1892. In his introduction
Randolph informs us that ". . . Bishop Stapeldon was one of the foremost statesmen of his day,
and advisor of King Edward the Second." Among the services he performed for the king was a
special diplomatic trip to France. It is believed that Exeter College, which originally was called
"Stapeldone Halle," was named in the Bishop’s memory. Randolph’s book also contains a list of
all subscribers and the number of copies each one received. Among them was William Stapledon