
The novel “The Man in the Maze” by Robert Silverberg was published for the first time in 1968.
Charles Boardman leads an expedition to the planet Lemnos, where Richard Muller, a diplomat who nine years earlier had established his home in the middle of an ancient, huge labyrinth, exiled himself. Boardman’s goal is to reach Muller, but the labyrinth is full of deadly traps.
To limit the risks, Charles Boardman uses a series of drones built directly on his spaceship. They enable finding many traps, yet some men die trying to reach the labyrinth’s center. Ultimately, young Ned Rawlins is the one who encounters Richard Muller, an event not by chance but planned by Boardman to exploit the boy’s innocent appearance to gain Muller’s trust.
“The Man in the Maze” can be described as a Greek tragedy set on another planet. Robert Silverberg drew inspiration from Sophocles’ tragedy Philoctetes, based on the myth about this character and his participation in the Trojan War. In some cases, the reference is explicit: for example, Philoctetes is abandoned on the island of Lemnos, and the planet where most of the story is set has the same name. I’m not an expert on this myth and much less on Sophocles’ tragedy, so I don’t know if people familiar with them would appreciate this novel more. I didn’t feel like I missed anything significant.
In Robert Silverberg’s novel, the protagonist goes to the planet Lemnos of his own accord. Initially, it’s unclear why he decided to isolate himself so radically from humanity, but the reason is clarified fairly quickly. Richard Muller’s affliction becomes an explicit element of the plot and is also the reason that makes him unique and perfect for a new mission that is crucial to the future of humanity.
At the same time, Robert Silverberg develops the setting within the labyrinth, with its mysteries and especially its dangers, and the protagonists, with their personal backstories. This allows readers to understand their personalities and the motives behind their actions and decisions.
The three protagonists are also the only truly significant characters. Other members of Charles Boardman’s expedition are functional to the plot. The occasional women who appear in flashbacks connected to the protagonists’ backstories are merely their lovers. From this perspective, the novel truly seems as old as Sophocles’ tragedy, even compared to the period in which it was written.
In some ways, the labyrinth itself could be considered a character. It’s physically at the center of the story, as Ned must venture into it to reach Richard Muller. Ned, aided by Charles Boardman, must also find the right path through what is a sort of labyrinth of Muller’s mind to find a way to convince him to end his exile.
The novel’s strength lies precisely in its protagonists and their interactions, which reveal their profound differences. Ned Rawlins is idealistic and comes face-to-face with Richard Muller, who has a misanthropic attitude, while Charles Boardman tries to manipulate both of them to achieve his goal. They represent various facets of humanity, with its strengths but, perhaps above all, its flaws.
Through the ethical and moral ramifications, especially those connected to what Charles Boardman does under the guise of humanity’s greater good, Robert Silverberg offers food for thought. These themes are stressed by the protagonists’ emotions. This, in my opinion, is what makes “The Man in the Maze” still interesting to read. If the objectification of women doesn’t bother you, I recommend reading it. It’s available on Amazon USA, UK, and Canada.
