I was gifted Harry Harrison’s 1966 dystopian novel Make Room! Make Room! for my birthday and I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew it was the basis for Soylent Green (a film I knew the plot of but haven’t seen), but that was about it. It’s set in a future was millions of people are crammed together in small cities and, like many dystopian stories from the 60s, it’s eerily prescient, while at the same time despite its accurate predictions, things haven’t become as bad as the book expected. (We’ve already passed the population levels that Harrison predicted would lead to some kind of apocalypse.)
The worldbuilding is where the book really shines. The author explores how welfare policies actually make overpopulation worse, and how religious attitudes get weaponised to prevent birth control, which is clever social commentary. I found myself thinking about our own political debates while reading, which shows how relevant the book remains.
The characters fit well in the world, my favourite of which is Sol, an older man whom the protagonist shares an apartment with. He has a great story arc, transforming from someone just trying to get by to a genuine radical. The author also does a good job of showing how the system forces characters like Andy (the protagonist) and Tab (the bodyguard of the protagonist’s love interest) into jobs where they hurt people they care about.
While the worldbuilding and social commentary works well, Make Room! is let down by its plot. There is a detective story moving things forward but, unlike Asimov’s Robots series where the mystery format actually explores the sci-fi concepts, Harrison’s storyline felt completely disconnected from everything interesting about his world. There was a missed opportunity to explore, for example, how law enforcement works in an overcrowded world.
And while the social issues and overcrowding remain relevant, Harrison doesn’t find an alternative vision for how gender works (e.g., in the same way that authors like Le Guin or Heinlein have). Shirl and other female characters exist mainly as domestic workers or objects, not really as full participants. And in a way that didn’t quite feel like part of the social commentary.
So if you’re interested in dystopian fiction or want to understand 1960s anxieties about population and environment, it’s definitely worth reading. Just don’t expect the plot to be as compelling as the world Harrison builds around it.

