Imagine a world where machines can think, where humans explore distant planets only to confront their own fears not alien beings, and where reality becomes so fluid that it is indistinguishable from illusion. Today, such ideas may sound like the stuff of sci-fi blockbusters or articles on artificial intelligence – but more than sixty years ago, Stanisław Lem, one of the greatest science fiction writers of the twentieth century, was already writing about them.

His books challenge readers to reflect not only on the future, but also on the essence of human nature. Lem did not believe in alien invasions and remained skeptical about the possibility of contact with extraterrestrial civilizations. Yet he was certain of one thing: the greatest mystery lies within ourselves. His novel Solaris stands as one of the most profound reflections on consciousness, memory, and the fear of the unknown.

Did you know that this iconic writer was born and spent his early years in Lviv? In this city where cultures and epochs intertwine, Lem’s inquisitive mind and love of science were first awakened. Lviv – with its universities, winding ancient streets, and rich multilingual atmosphere – shaped the unique worldview that would define his work.

Lviv, where it all began

Stanisław Lem was born on September 12, 1921, in Lviv, which at that time was part of the Polish Republic. He grew up in the family of a successful otolaryngologist, which afforded him the opportunity to receive an excellent education. As Lem later recalled, his childhood in Lviv was a “golden age” – a time when he was fascinated by technology, devoured scientific books, dismantled mechanical devices, and even built some of his own.

The Lem family was Jewish by origin but practiced Roman Catholicism and spoke Polish. They lived in a spacious six-room apartment on what was then Brajerowska Street, now known as Bohdana Lepkoho Street.

“I remember the gate, the stairs, the doors, the corridors, and the rooms of the house on Brajerowska Street where I was born. I also remember many people, such as the neighbors I mentioned above, but without their faces—because their faces changed. And my memory, unaware of the inevitability of these changes, was helpless before them, like a photographic negative unable to capture a moving object,” Lem wrote in his autobiographical novel High Castle (Wysoki zamek).

Stanisław studied at the 2nd Karol Szajnocha Gymnasium, now School No. 8 on Pidvalna Street. His class consisted mainly of Polish students. Ukrainian students did not stand out, as they also spoke Polish. The only noticeable difference was that the Polish students did not attend Greek Catholic religious classes.

“I could still walk home from the gymnasium with my eyes closed. Repeated countless times over the years, the route had become so deeply imprinted in me that it turned into what psychologists call a ‘dynamic stereotype’ […] I passed the architectural monuments, the Armenian Church, the old houses of Rynok Square with its magnificent Black Mansion, all with complete indifference – and I remember none of it. At half past eight in the morning, I would add some water to my coffee to cool it faster and walk down Moniuszko Street, then Chopin, across Smolka Square with the stone Smolka in the centre, along Jagiellonianska, past the Marysenka cinema, to Legionów Street. To the left, the prospect of the theatre loomed in the distance, but I was drawn – like a sailor to a lighthouse – to a modest stall on the corner of Holy Spirit Square, where Mr. Kawuras sold his wares [… ] The path continued through Rynok Square, beneath the massive bulk of the magistrate’s office and the town hall tower, past the fountain with Neptune and the stone lions crouched at the gate, along narrow Ruska Street to Pidvalna Street, where the two-storey gymnasium stood, surrounded by trees,” Stanisław Lem recalled the walk to his school.

Lem also fondly remembered visits to the Lviv Opera, then known as the City Theatre:

“I even liked to arrive at the theatre long before the curtain rose – before the giant iron curtain painted by Siemiradzki was lifted – because so many fascinating things were already happening there. Our City Theatre seemed to me a place of unparalleled luxury, comme il faut, in the best sense of the word: red velvet upholstery, tiered boxes, chandeliers, the flicker of stage lights, a smoking room, and, last but not least, the buffet. At the buffet, my father would buy a bagel sprinkled with salt and pepper, topped with thin slices of ham, for my mother and me. I have completely forgotten what great dramatic works I saw there, but I remember very clearly that the bagel cost 50 groszy.”

Stanisław Lem dreamed of studying at the Lviv Polytechnic, but he was not accepted. In 1939, he enrolled in the Lviv Medical Institute, but his studies were soon interrupted by the outbreak of the Second World War. During the German occupation, Lem managed to find work at the Rohstofferfassung recycling company, where he served as a mechanic’s assistant and welder. Earning five zlotys a day, he collected scrap iron from around the city and cut it into pieces in the garage.because of his Jewish heritage, Lem had to live and work under a false identity – the Armenian name Jan Donabidowicz. The forged documents and his job were what ultimately saved his life during the occupation. After the war, when Lviv was annexed by the Soviet Union, Lem and his family were forced to relocate to Kraków.

Despite everything, the writer always remembered Lviv with warmth. It was in this city that he spent his early years, discovered his passion for science, and began to write. Perhaps it was here, too, that the first sparks of the ideas that would later become his iconic novels were born.

Lem: Still Relevant Today

Reading Stanisław Lem today, it is hard to believe that his books were written more than 50 years ago. He predicted a remarkable number of technologies that have since become reality, including:

• Artificial intelligence. Lem foresaw the creation of machines so advanced that humans might lose control over them. Today, with the rise of neural networks and automation, we are already witnessing this transformation in society. He explored these ideas in Summa Technologiae and the stories from Tales of Pirx the Pilot. In Golem XIV, Lem imagined a super-intelligent computer that evolves independently and ultimately refuses to obey human commands.
• Virtual reality. Stanisław Lem’s works often depict artificial worlds created by technology – so convincing that people lose the ability to distinguish illusion from reality. This theme appears in The Magellanic Cloud and the collection The Cyberiad. In The Futurological Congress, he anticipated the concept of augmented reality and the use of psychotropic technologies to alter human perception. Today, virtual reality is employed in gaming, science, medicine, and even military training.
• Space exploration. Although Lem remained sceptical about the possibility of contact with extraterrestrial life, he explored the profound challenges of interspecies communication. In Solaris, he delved into the complexities of understanding an alien intelligence. His novel Fiasco portrays a failed attempt at first contact, highlighting the potential for tragic misunderstandings. Contemporary scientists and astronomers continue to debate similar questions as they search for life beyond Earth.

Today, Lem’s ideas are discussed not only by science fiction writers and fans, but also by philosophers, scientists, and developers working on the cutting edge of technology.

Solaris – the greatest mystery of science fiction

Solaris, written in 1961, became Stanisław Lem’s most famous novel. It tells the story of a space station orbiting a mysterious planet entirely covered by an intelligent Ocean. Scientists aboard the station attempt to make contact with the alien intelligence, but instead of encountering traditional extraterrestrials, they are confronted with physical manifestations of their own memories – brought to life by the Ocean’s enigmatic powers.

The novel compels readers to ask a profound question: is humanity truly capable of understanding something entirely unlike itself? Solaris transcends the boundaries of science fiction to become a philosophical exploration of the limits of human cognition and the nature of consciousness.

This legendary work by Lem has inspired a new production at the Lviv National Opera: Solaris – a ballet with music by Oleksandr Rodin and a libretto by Vasyl Vovkun. In the writer’s hometown, his iconic novel is being reimagined through a unique staging that combines music, movement, and visual art. The production is directed musically by Ivan Cherednichenko, with choreography by Kateryna Kurman, exquisite costumes and set design by Svitlana Reinish, and lighting design by Oleksandr Mezentsev. Created as part of the Ukrainian Breakthrough creative programme, this ballet represents a new chapter in contemporary Ukrainian ballet.

Natalia Mendiuk,

musicologist