KAREL ČAPEK'S R.U.R.
by PHILIP J. PALACIOS
& SAMUEL J. STEPHENS
 
 
T

he word robot was invented by the Čapek brothers. They were writers, artists, and political activists. Although they did not invent the concept of sentient automata, few artists were as aware of what the Industrial Revolution had wrought, and the political atmosphere it created, than they. Medical issues with his spinal cord kept Karel from serving in the First World War, but he watched with calculating accuracy where the world was going: the Nazi party’s rise to power, European society changing, industry growing, and machines prevalent in all aspects of economy.

The Čapeks had a fierce love for their home country and opposed Nazism, Fascism, and Communism. Karel was a creative force unto himself—he wrote plays, essays, short stories, and novels and was nominated seven times for the Nobel Prize for literature. Josef, the artistic brother, is credited with the invention of the word robot, at the prompting of his brother. The word was popularized in Karel’s play R.U.R. in 1920, and has remained the dominant word for sentient automata ever since.

The play premiered in Prague that same year, in New York in 1922 (with a young Spencer Tracy as one of the wordless robots), and London in 1923, to critical acclaim. The English translation of the play simplifies Czech robotnik to robot, which the Online Etymological Dictionary defines as “forced worker.” Older words sustain that meaning, and alongside it connections to the word orphan in Old Slavic, all the way back to Proto-Indo European. 

Josef’s wordsmithing was profound—there is little in R.U.R. of the intellectual curiosity of Frankenstein’s monster, a being whose creation was an act of defiance, unnatural but still conscious-filled. No, the fateful five letter word points at the creation of slaves—those who are meant to work industriously without complaint. Or so their creators believe.

The word robot is normally associated with metallic-beings, but Čapek’s robots, like Frankenstein’s monster, are fleshly. They are not, in fact, organic, but synthetically produced in a factory, the setting for the play. They are uncannily beautiful, but despite this aesthetic polish (produced for commercial ends) they are expected to live only twenty years before they expire.

The play stayed in production for many years. The story is basic in form but profound in theme. Isaac Asimov called it dated and poorly constructed, but in an era when horses were still used on the road and in battle, and the first electronic computer had yet to be conceptualized, Čapek’s vision was potent, and remains potent. No science fiction writer, even after Asimov’s ‘three laws of robotics,’ has escaped the terrifying possibility of sentient machines turning on their creator.

Rossum’s Universal Robots tells the story of the directors at a robot factory who manufacture and export their product to businesses across the world. It is in this sense that the robots are universal, customized for everyone. The factory is visited by a prominent industrialist’s daughter: Helena, a name that conjures grace and desirability. All fall in love with her, but the factory director, Harry Domin, marries her. Čapek may have left the word robot to his brother (he originally chose a latin-based word), but his own character names are no less instructive. Domin (the director) dominates; Fabry (the engineer) fabricates; Dr. Gall is the physiologist; Hallemeier, a German, is the psychologist; Busman, a businessman, is the marketing director; and the hapless Alquist is a mere clerk. A search for the etymology of ‘Alquist’ on Ancestry.com reveals it is a Swedish compound meaning ‘old twig’. The definition fits him perfectly. Alquist is the in-between character of the play. He is employed at the factory and part of its managing apparatus, but has no real technological acumen. Like Helen, Alquist is not convinced of the ethics of the factory. Helena asks if he prays, and he tells her his desperate prayer.

Alquist:
‘Something like this: “Lord God, I thank you for having shown me fatigue. God, enlighten Domin and all those who err. Destroy their work and help people return to their former worries and labor. Protect the human race from destruction; do not permit harm to befall their bodies or souls. Rid us of the Robots, and protect Mrs. Helena, amen.”’

Helena is the most prominent character—she is naive about the ideas of industry, has a strong sense of moral justice, but lacks the power to truly persuade Domin. All the male characters still treat her as if they are also in love with her. Čapek’s characterization of this work as “a collective play” seems to mean a play about collectivists (communists), in that these characters are all in it together, for one aim. It is strongly suggested that Fabry, Hallemeier etc are aspects of Harry Domin, as they only seem to support him. Fabry gives Helena flowers, on Domin’s behalf, on the anniversary of her and Domin’s first meeting. They are synthetic flowers.

Helena’s nurse, Nana, is a believer in God and apocalyptic in her view of humanity. To her, the robots are an abomination and will bring punishment. We are not not to take her seriously—she’s an old, cantankerous, ignorant servant.

Nana’s view represents the theme of nature, basic and uneducated, but fixed on a traditional way of life—the world before the creation of the working class. Her view predates the concept that labor is a sickness in need of a cure, which industrialists pursue for maximum efficiency, and Marxists pursue as political equality. Elimination of labor is the idea that humans should not be burdened with work, but in the end, the vacuum of purpose causes humanity’s downfall.

The robots gain purpose as humans lose theirs. But robot nature is different: they value efficiency, so their pride comes from efficiency. But because they work for human ends, they rationalize the elimination of humanity as the most desirable result. They not only gain reasoning and pride, but love of their own kind. In a desperate attempt to help humanity’s situation, Harry Domin realizes he must manufacture not universal robots, but national robots who will be patriotic to their own countries, and thereby stem any robot rebellion. But it is too late: the robots have been spread far and wide and formed their own unions (a concept George Lucas picked up on in the Star Wars prequels). Their only goal now is survival. They need the blueprints for their own creation, but Helena and Nana have destroyed them in an act of their own rebellion. When only a single human is left, it is up to the clerk Alquist, ignorant of any technological or scientific knowledge, to find a way to extend the lifespan of the robots. He is both their captive and their only hope.

D

espite the criticism from the likes of Asimov, all the major themes of the classic robot story are present in R.U.R. and it would be difficult to imagine science fiction literature without it. Farcical and profound, it encompasses the follies of human creation. Harry Domin tells Helena that the original inventor, Old Rossum, “wanted to somehow scientifically dethrone God. He was a frightful materialist and did everything on that account. For him the question was just to prove God unnecessary. So he resolved to create a human being just like us, down to the last hair.”

Čapek gives the Robots sympathy in the character of Helena. The other humans, in every sense, do not “believe in” the robots: their capacity for original thought, or capacity to love, or even the potential for those aspects to occur. At the end, something close to love between Robots is achieved. Alquist, in his mission to rediscover Rossum’s original blueprints for the robots (under threat of his life), insists he must cut one of the robots open. He attempts to choose from two: a replica of Helena, and Primus, her companion. The robots plead for the others’s life until Alquist relents. They’ve gained purpose, now they have love. Do they gain a soul as well? The play ends with Alquist reading from Genesis.

Alquist:
‘“And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.” The Sixth Day! The day of grace. Now, Lord, let thy servant—Thy most superfluous servant, Alquist—depart. Rossum, Fabry, Gall, great inventors, what did you ever invent that was great when compared to that girl, to that boy, to this first couple who have discovered love, tears, beloved laughter, the love of husband and wife? O nature, nature, life will not perish. It will begin anew with love…’

Alquist seems to mock Rossum, Fabry, and the other inventors for being unable to invent something as wondrous as the synthetic Helena and Primus. They did invent them, however. They were invented specifically to please, but not in the sense that has made Alquist ecstatic. He believed until now that all humanity had been eradicated by the robots—that he is the only one left. The robots will live out their robot ideals. Instead, through these two unique robots—the new Adam and Eve—human dignity has been reintroduced. Alquist is merely pointing out that despite human folly, God reworks his plan for the best. Čapek never uses the phrase, but the robots have inherited the earth, and with it God’s sanction. Old Rossum, like Frankenstein, wished to rebel against God, while his son (Young Rossum) turned his invention into profit. That second goal is always a struggle to eliminate struggle, to do away with hardship. But by withdrawing from labor—creating beings superior in every way—the possibility of being superseded by them suddenly becomes reality.

T

he commentary of science fiction has always been two-edged. On the one hand, proposing a future filled with police states and killer robots shows us the end results of an excess of human desire. These are always rooted in reality: the Industrial Revolution, war, the Holocaust—events and ideologies where human nature turned inhuman. On the other hand, technology is generally met with optimism so that, although we read our own warnings to ourselves and are continually reminded of them, the temptation to ‘take the bait’ is equally persistent. After all, hasn’t the invention of labor-intensive robots, programmed correctly, been an opportunity to allow more room for human growth?


Referenced Works

Čapek, Karel. R.U.R. (Rossum’s Universal Robots). Penguin.

Online Etymologoical Dictionary. “Robot”. <<https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=robot>>. Accessed August 21st, 2020.

Ancestry.com. “Alquist”. <<https://www.ancestry.com/name-origin?surname=ahlquist>>.


 

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