As I’ve described before, our reading group is covering the best science fiction short stories of 1955. To supplement the discussion, I’m creating .pdf files for each science fiction magazine that includes their cover, table of contents, and some departments such as book reviews, fanzine reviews, and letters to the editor. Sometimes I even include interesting ads or other artifacts that add to the discussion of science fiction in 1955. I just created “1955 Astounding Overview” to go with the ones for Amazing and IF. I’ll be doing more magazines in the future. You can download what I’ve done so far here:
The general belief was Astounding Science Fiction was in decline in the 1950s but looking through the 1955 issues I’m not so sure. Our group wondered why “Allamagoosa” by Eric Frank Russell won the Hugo for best short story in 1955 when there were so many other great short stories. It was in the May issue. I noticed when going through the issues of Astounding that Russell had four short stories in that magazine for 1955, and one 3-part serial, meaning he was in seven of the twelve issues. The guy was just popular and that might have gotten him votes. However, “Allamagoosa” is a fun story.
Astounding also published the Best Novelette winner too, for “The Darfsteller” by Walter M. Miller, Jr. in the January issue. Astounding also had the winning novel, They’d Rather Be Right, which was serialized in 1954. “The Darfsteller” is magnificent, but They’d Rather Be Right is considered by many to be the worst novel to win the Hugo Award. See “Hugo Nominees: 1955” by Jo Walton about that controversy. (You can get both the Mark Clifton novels discussed in that essay at Amazon for ninety-nine cents.)
Of the fourteen stories we’ll be reading for Group Read 63, five were from Astounding, three from Galaxy, and four from F&SF. The other two were from other sources. We have already read eight other stories from 1955 in other group reads, but I’ve forgotten their sources.
For me, the best thing about the “1955 Astounding Overview” that I created are the book reviews by P. Schuyler Miller. His column, “The Reference Library” is my favorite way to look back over science fiction in the 1950s. Not only did Miller review books, but often wrote about the state of science fiction and publishing. Some of the books he reviewed that I’ve read, or own and hope to read are:
Science-Fiction Thinking Machines edited by Groff Conklin
Born of Man and Woman by Richard Matheson
One in Three Hundred by J. T. McIntosh
Brain Wave by Poul Anderson
The Immortal Story by Sam Moskowitz
The Best Science-Fiction Stories: 1954 edited by Bleiler & Dikty
The Stars Are Ours by Andre Norton
The Forgotten Planet by Murray Leinster
The Star Beast by Robert A. Heinlein
Star Short Novels edited by Frederik Pohl
The Best from Fantasy and Science Fiction: Fourth Series edited by Anthony Boucher
Shadows in the Sun by Chad Oliver
Earthlight by Arthur C. Clarke
More Adventures in Time and Space edited by Healy & McComas
Earthman, Come Home by James Blish
The Mouse That Roared by Leonard Wibberley
Northwest of Earth by C. L. Moore
Assignment in Tomorrow edited by Frederik Pohl
To Walk the Night by William Sloane
The Exploration of the Moon by Arthur C. Clarke
Of All Possible Worlds by William Tenn
Hell’s Pavement by Damon Knight
Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell
The Body Snatchers by Jack Finney
Re-Birth by John Wyndham
The Edge of Running Water by William Sloane
Solar Lottery by Philip K. Dick
The Martian Way and Other Stories by Isaac Asimov
The Fittest by J. T. McIntosh
Each of Miller’s columns begins with several pages on a generalized topic. This also conveys a lot about science fiction in 1955.
Starting September 7th, our science fiction short story group will be discussing the best short science fiction of 1955. Read about the details here if you want to participate. We used CSFquery to identify twenty-two stories to read and discuss. However, I put a challenge to the group to find worthy stories that have gone mainly unrecognized. I found my first forgotten classic today, “The Earth Quarter” by Damon Knight. The only recognition I could find that remembers this story is in a list of 50 SF short stories that were Gardner Dozois personal favorites. (I’m going to have to read more of the stories from that list that aren’t famous.)
I thought “The Earth Quarter” was one of the most cynical science fiction stories I’ve ever read. You know how Campbell and Heinlein were so pro-human? Well, Knight takes the opposite stance. I don’t want to say too much — and you might want to go read the story here before you read on.
Knight sets up the story where a group of humans live in a ghetto on another planet, one they call Earth Quarter. He pictures humans attaining interstellar flight and spreading out across the galaxy, but discovering it’s well occupied by intelligent beings more advanced than us. Humans can’t handle this. Earth itself falls back into barbarism, while enclaves of humans on various planets bicker amongst themselves.
“The Earth Quarter” is told from the point-of-view of Laszlo Cudyk, a fifty-year old man who tries to stay neutral among several highly polarized political factions. Liberals want to find a way to live peaceably with the aliens, while various conservative groups want to bring back the glory of Earth and conquer the galaxy.
The Earth Quarter is roughly sixteen square city blocks, containing 2,300 humans of three races, four religions, and eighteen nationalities. The human ghetto is sanctioned by a race of aliens called the Niori, but only if they live peaceably, which humans can’t seem to do. Knight makes a case that humans just can’t get along no matter what.
Life in the Earth Quarter reminds me of the prisoner of war camp in J. G. Ballard’s Empire of the Sun, but the Niori are enlightened beings who are kind rather than cruel. In another way, the story reminds me of Katherine Anne Porter’s Ship of Fools.
What I really liked about this story was the characterization — sure it’s pulp fiction, but I think good pulp fiction. Knight creates many distinctive characters who are vivid from little description. Sure, he employs stereotypes, but not too offensively. I can easily picture “The Earth Quarter” being made in a 1950’s noir sci-fi flick with all the standard noir actors like Humphrey Bogart, Robert Ryan, Robert Mitchem, Peter Lorre, Sidney Greenstreet, Barten MacLane, Elisha Cook, Jr. — and it would have to be filmed in black and white.
My guess was Damon Knight got disgusted with humans in 1955 when he wrote this story. We were in the middle of the cold war and humanity was providing just the right inspiration.
UPDATE – 9/4/23
It turns out that Rich Horton also likes “The Earth Quarter.” See his essay about his picks for the 1956 Hugo awards (which cover 1955). But he also reviewed the story when it was expanded and renamed into one-half of an Ace Double called The Sun Saboteurs.
“The Way to Amalteia” by Arkady Strugatsky and Boris Strugatsky is story #52 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “The Way to Amalteia” was first published in Russian in Путь на Амальтею in 1960.
“The Way to Amalteia” was first translated into English in 1963, and later in 1985, before the 1989 translation for The World Treasury of Science Fiction. Finding those other editions will be difficult, and since there have been no English reprints since 1989, it shows the value of owning a copy of The World Treasury of Science Fiction. Collecting retrospective anthologies of science fiction is one way of preserving literary history.
“The Way to Amalteia” starts out on J-Station, a research settlement on Amalthea, the fifth moon of Jupiter. The Strugatsky brothers describe the beautiful site of Jupiter from that moon. But we learn that the station is running out of food, and everyone is on strict rations. The settlement is desperately waiting for the freighter, Takhmasib, to deliver supplies, but it’s running late, and they’ve lost contact with the ship.
The story then cuts to the freighter, where we learn why. The Takhmasib has suffered several mishaps and has fallen into Jupiter. The Strugatsky brothers have set up an almost impossible situation and we don’t know if the crew can save themselves.
This is a hard science story, especially for 1960. Hartwell, in his introduction said it would fit right in an issue of Astounding, and that’s true. Hartwell said it also reminded him of Clarke’s “A Meeting with Medusa,” which I thought too. I also thought the story sounded like something Hal Clement would write, and it turns out Arkady Strugatsky translated Mission of Gravity into English.
There’s a lot going for “The Way to Amalteia,” but unfortunately, on this first reading, the story didn’t thrill me. I vaguely sensed it was an outstanding story, but something kept me at a distance. Having so many things go wrong spoiled it for me on one level. Having the cause of the major catastrophe be due to meteorites seemed cheesy. And I wondered if I was missing the flavor of the story because it was a translated work. Finally, there were places where figures were given, and they just seemed impossible to believe.
On page 1027 the photon drive pushes the ship to sixty-seven thousand kilometers a second. That’s about a fourth of the speed of light (299,792 kps). On page 1058 we learn the pressure on the ship as it descends into Jupiter’s atmosphere is three hundred atmospheres. This is after the ship had several holes punched in it from meteors and was patched with resin and metal plates. And there was another mention of the crushing pressure of Jupiter’s atmosphere that was much higher than three hundred atmospheres, but I can’t find it. All these problems remind me of old science fiction movies of the 1950s where science was often mumbo jumbo. But were these errors the writers’ fault, or the translators?
I also feel if I read “The Way to Amalteia” a couple more times in the future I might get to like it quite a bit. I don’t think one reading does the story justice. The story comes across like an episode of Star Trek, where a valiant captain is forced to deal with a series of ever escalating problems, but then at the last minute saves the day.
The Strugatskys spend a lot of time developing the characterization of the international crew and filling the story with textural details. I couldn’t tell if they were realistic or stereotypes because I wondered if some of the flavor was lost in translation.
“The Way to Amalteia” was an interesting story to close the anthology, especially since it’s a novella. Hartwell must have thought highly of the story. That’s why I think it might improve on rereading. But most readers don’t reread. I would have put “The Way to Amalteia” where Hartwell put “A Meeting with Medusa” on page 146 and closed with “A Meeting with Medusa.” The Clarke story offers way more hope for the future.
The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell came out in 1989 and contains over one thousand pages of short science fiction. I call this kind of science fiction anthology a retrospective anthology because it collects fiction that covers a time period rather than theme. Reading it should give SF fans a good sampling of science fiction published around the world from the late 1930s through the 1980s. For other retrospective anthologies see “The Best Science Fiction Short Stories.”
Unfortunately, most of the great retrospective anthologies of science fiction are out-of-print. Our database at CSFquery lists the most frequently reprinted and cited stories. If you click on the title in the list, it will take you to ISFDB and show you all the places a story has been reprinted. This way you can create your own virtual retrospective anthology.
Only 9 of the 52 stories from The World Treasury of Science Fiction made it to our list of Classics of Science Fiction Short Stories. That suggests that most of the stories were Hartwell’s favorites and not popular picks. The anthology is a good read for discovering diverse science fiction.
You can see how many citations each of the 52 stories received here. To see which anthology has the highest percentage of cited stories, see “The SF Anthology Problem Solved.” A list of all the citation sources for short stories is here.
I’ve hyperlinked the stories I’ve reviewed from The World Treasury of Science Fiction.
I’ve always wanted to visit the future — but what if the future visited me? “Vintage Season” by Lawrence O’Donnell (C. L. Moore and Henry Kuttner) is about people from the future visiting the present. We don’t know when and where this story takes place, but we identify with it as now. The sense of wonder “Vintage Season” generates comes from imagining visitors from the future and why they would hang with us.
Science fiction’s foundation is built on four pillars: space travel, time travel, aliens, and robots. Two stories get closest to the heart of time travel. The first is, “The Time Machine,” by H. G. Wells. The second is “Vintage Season.” I’m not sure any other time travel story even comes close.
There is a mystery about “Vintage Season” — who wrote it — Moore or Kuttner or both. Does it really matter? Can’t we consider the couple one creative god and let it go at that? I have read accounts of how Catherine and Henry would leave a story in a typewriter and either one of them would stop and work on it. I’m not sure if I believe that myth, or at least how it stands.
In writing classes, they talk about two kinds of writers: pantsers and plotters. Pantsers write by the seat of their pants just letting stories unfold and go where they want. Plotters are writers who outline before they start writing. “Vintage Season” was written by a plotter. It’s a three-dimensional puzzle that depends on every piece fitting together perfectly, and it does. Leaving a story in a typewriter for whomever to finish is a pantser technique. Generally, when I read Kuttner stories they feel like a pantser story. When I read a Moore story, they feel like a plotter story. It reminds me of Moore’s “No Woman Born” and maybe “Greater Than Gods”
“Vintage Season” is story #51 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “Vintage Season” was first published in Astounding Science-Fiction (September 1946).
“Vintage Season” is an outstanding story. To me, it’s the absolute best science fiction story from the Golden Age of Astounding Science-Fiction in the 1940s. I’ve read it many times over many decades. I also consider “Vintage Season” one of the best science fiction stories ever written.
I love listening to the narration of it from the audiobook edition of The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, v. 2a. In fact, I feel sorry for anyone who hasn’t listened to that audio edition of “Vintage Season” — it was pitch perfect. As I listened to it, I marveled at how “Vintage Season” was so damn well-written.
One of the hardest things to write in science fiction is what readers can’t know — what the future is like, how an alien thinks, or how an artificial mind will relate to us. Science fiction writers must make those things up. This is why I believe Moore and Kuttner were so successful in “Vintage Season.” Start reading with “Oliver was searching” and read until “The music broke off.” Oliver goes into Kleph’s room where she’s playing a work of art composed by a fellow time traveler. We need to remember this was written in 1946 and most people did not know about most science fiction concepts. Moore, and I believe she wrote most of “Vintage Season,” especially the parts about people’s emotions. Think of this passage as someone trying to describe an LSD trip, and how hard it would be to put it into words. Moore does a fantastic job.
Few science fiction writers attempt anything like this. Everything in the story led to Oliver being able to experience that moment. It’s also key to the ending. Everything in the story is built to support every other part. We need Oliver’s experience with the euphoria tea. We need the tension over Sue wanting Oliver to sell the house. We need all the clues Oliver is picking up. We need Oliver to be attracted to Kleph. Every bit of this story leads up to the ending.
And if Kuttner wrote the last story I reviewed, “The Proud Robot” by himself, it shows nothing of that kind of writing. Kuttner wrote a series of scenes, each one a little battle of wits. He keeps giving us scenes with conflicts and solving them. Eventually, he wraps things up. He tells us Gallegher invented Joe the robot as a can opener. It fits with the other scenes, but the other scenes don’t require that ending. And almost any scene could be removed, and the story would still work. That’s how pantser plotting works.
I wish I had the time and psychic energy to mind map “Vintage Season” and show how tightly connected every element of the story is with the other elements. But such an effort could take days. Just read the story.
I wish I had the time and psychic energy to be more of a literary scholar. I could spend weeks analyzing “Vintage Season.” Instead, I write these essays over a couple of hours hoping to say just enough to get people to read the story. I write these essays to focus my mind and organize my thoughts about a story. If I didn’t exercise my mind this way, I think it would deteriorate.
When I listened to “Vintage Season” this time the reading experience was something significant. I wish I could put that into words. Reading science fiction has been an essential part of my life, but not all science fiction reading is essential. Most of it is a waste of time. “Vintage Season” is not. Understanding why would tell me something. Maybe I’ll write about that someday.
“The Proud Robot” by Lewis Padgett is story #50 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “The Proud Robot” was first published in Astounding Science-Fiction (October 1943). Lewis Padgett was the pen name of husband-and-wife writers Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore, but most fans think it was written by Kuttner.
Back in the mid-1970s I discovered Robots Have No Tails in an old library downtown. It was a rebound copy of the original Gnome Press edition without a dustjacket. I read the first story, “The Proud Robot” and loved it because I was also a recent fan of The Thin Man movies with William Powell and Myrna Loy. I mention this because Kuttner obviously based the zany alcoholic mad-scientist Galloway Gallegher on the movie version of Nick Charles. I think most people might agree with me on that. However, I have another theory. I believe Joe, the vain robot was based on Bungle, the glass cat from The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum. Both the robot and cat had transparent bodies so you could see their insides, and both were obsessed with looking at themselves.
I’ve read “The Proud Robot” several times over the years. Sometimes I like it, and sometimes I don’t — it all depends on my mood. Sometimes a drunk protagonist is amusing, and other times, Gallegher is just too damn annoying. Joe the robot is always annoying — but he was meant to be.
Harrison Brock, a television/movie mogul hires Gallegher to invent technology that will bypass patents that bootleg theaters are using to put his Vox-View Pictures out of business. Gallegher has accomplished the task but doesn’t remember how. Gallagher works when he’s drunk using his subconscious mind as a creative power. Most of the story is about Gallegher trying to remember what he did. All he knows is he came to after building a vain robot. Kuttner wrote a lot of pulp mysteries besides writing science fiction, so this story is really a SF mystery.
The central plot of the story lets Kuttner speculate about the future of television in 1943. He imagines the television industry paying for itself through household subscriptions, which was a path taken in England. He didn’t anticipate the power of commercials. Kuttner also imagined how the movie industry would fight back against television by offering viewers greater technological features to leave their homes. The speculation about the future of TV is fun but isn’t enough to carry the story.
How Gallegher solves the mystery is silly but logical enough within this silly story. Like I said whether this will be amusing will depend on your mood. I wished that I had an audio version of “The Proud Robot” because a good narrator would help me to hear this story in its funniest light.
I’m not keen on Kuttner. My hunch is I like the C. L. Moore part of the team, that’s Lewis Padgett. If a Lewis Padgett story is serious and moving, I assume Moore did most of the writing. If it’s intellectual, silly, or pulpy, I tend to think it’s Kuttner. Our next story, “Vintage Season,” was written by the same team. Because that story is so wonderful, I feel it was mostly written by Moore.
I feel “The Proud Robot” was Kuttner’s hack work, and sometimes, if the mood strikes me, it’s amusing hack work.
For our Best of 1955 group read I thought I’d look over some of the less successful science fiction magazines published that year. I started with Amazing Stories. Howard Browne had been editing the magazine since 1950 but would leave in 1956 to move to Hollywood to become a moderately successful TV scriptwriter (Maverick, Cheyenne, Bourbon Street Beat, 77 Sunset Strip, Mission Impossible, Mannix, The Rockford Files). Browne helped Amazing Stories transition away from the pulp format and its obsession with the Shaver Mystery. He began 1955 with this editorial:
In the following issue Browne promised further improvements which included a book review column and a fanzine review column. Throughout 1955 the letter column kept growing, and it was apparent that Amazing Stories had its faithful fans. To help members of my reading group get a sense of the magazine, I made a .pdf file that had the covers, table of contents, book reviews, fanzine reviews, and some letters of comments from the seven issues of Amazing Stories from 1955. Get the file: 1955: Amazing Stories Overview. If you want, you can read the seven 1955 issues at the Internet Archive.
Despite Amazing Stories being the first magazine devoted to publishing exclusively science fiction, and its fame in science fiction history, damn few stories have been reprinted from its pages. In its early years, Amazing mostly published classic reprints by Wells, Verne, and others. Just look at the table of contents from two anthologies devoted to collecting the best of its stories:
No Charge for Alterations • (1953) • novelette by H. L. Gold
The Augmented Agent • (1961) • novelette by Jack Vance
The Misfit • (1963) • short story by Roger Zelazny
The Dowry of Angyar • (1964) • short story by Ursula K. Le Guin
Placement Test • (1964) • novelette by Keith Laumer
The Horn of Time the Hunter • (1963) • short story by Poul Anderson
Phoenix • (1963) • short story by Marion Zimmer Bradley and Ted White
Rogue Psi • (1962) • novelette by James H. Schmitz
Not exactly classics, are they? And most of the stories by well-known authors were early works. So, I wasn’t expecting much when I went looking through the issues that came out in 1955. I found that most of the stories have never been reprinted since their publication in Amazing in 1955. And those few that were reprinted were reprinted in Amazing or other cheap reprint magazines.
I’ve always wondered why stories from Astounding/Analog, F&SF, and Galaxy have dominated the table of contents of anthologies published before 1970. Still, since my reading group will be discussing the best science fiction short stories from 1955, I thought I’d give Amazing Stories a look over. The first story of 1955 was:
I read “. . . now you don’t” by James Leland, to get the feel for things. You can read it online. This story is Leland’s only entry in ISFDB.org, and it gives no biographical data, so I don’t know how old he was. In 1955, most of the stories in Amazing were written by just a few writers, with several of them also packing the issues with pseudonyms. I’m guessing Leland was made up name. Since many of the stories have a New York City connection, and written by a small group of writers, I’m assuming they all knew each other and the editor. They appear to be young, smart, and precocious, but not very experienced or sophisticated. Maybe a little street wise, or trying to pass that off.
The writing for “. . . now you don’t” is not good, but it is readable, and even fun. I’d call it good bad writing. Leland has obviously seen the Frank Capra film, You Can’t Take It with You, and builds the setting and mood of “. . . now you don’t” around it. To add science fiction, he took H. G. Wells’ The Invisible Man and spiced it up with some Thorne Smith naughtiness. The story is just a tiny bit risqué, throwing in a few bits of innuendo. Leland tries to sound well-read by throwing in references to novels people read in college, but the story really reflects being well-read in pulp fiction.
I get the impression from looking through the stories that these guys were mostly would-be writers and used Amazing Stories as a practicum. Quite a few famous writers got their start with Amazing, but quickly moved on. There were no famous names in the 1955 issues, but there were in the 1954 and 1956 issues — such as Philip K. Dick and Frank Herbert.
The writer I was most interested in was Paul W. Fairman, who would become the editor of Amazing and Fantastic after Browne left in 1956. He was also the first editor of If. Fairman sometimes used the house name Ivar Jorgensen, which other writers also used. Using the Jorgensen name, Fairman published “Deadly City” in the March 1953 issue of If. That was one of my favorite stories from 1953, and it was made into the film Target Earth in 1954. That was one of the first science fiction movies I saw as a kid back in the 1950s. Fairman also wrote about twenty forgotten SF novels, many coauthored with Lester del Rey.
Fairman had seven stories published in 1955, three in Amazing and four in Fantastic. I figured I would start with those three stories to see if any of them were worth remembering in 2023. Amazing Stories was a decent place to start a writing career but a terrible place to be left behind.
Fairman published “The Cosmic Frame” in May, a story about two teenagers on a date who run over an alien in a Packard. The alien’s companions take an interesting revenge on the kids. In September, Fairman wrote about a more complicated alien invasion in “One Man to Kill.” Finally, in November, he told a man from Mars story, “The Man in the Ice Box” — although the superintelligent alien in this story wasn’t really from Mars. Because the four stories I’ve read by Fairman all involve invasions from space I could think of him as Mr. Alien Invader.
The three Fairman stories from 1955 Amazing were all readable and entertaining enough if you shut your critical eye. They were about as good as an average TV show from the 1950s. All three would have made middling episodes of The Twilight Zone, especially “The Man in the Ice Box,” which started out like a humorous TZ but ended with a nice philosophical punch. “The Cosmic Frame” would have made a TZ episode with a horrifying twist ending.
However, none of the stories I’ve read out of Amazing from 1955 have any sparkle or pizzazz. They were okay hack writing. Back in the 1960s when I first discovered Amazing and Fantastic, it was in used bookshops, and I could get them for a dime. I like the ones edited by Cele Goldsmith. Then I started buying the new ones edited by Ted White. They were never as good as F&SF, Galaxy, or Analog, but they were fun. I don’t know if I should admit it, but I found the stories from Amazing 1955 more entertaining than many of the intellectual/literary stories in The Big Book of Science Fiction or The World Treasury of Science Fiction — both anthologies that tried to impress that science fiction is sophisticated, worldly, and diverse.
If you liked the old Winston Science Fiction series from the 1950s, you might like Amazing Stories from the 1950s too.
I haven’t found a story yet that I’d make a case it was one of the best SF stories of 1955. I’d rate them all 2+ stars, which is my way of saying they were less than professionally written, but likeable. I consider 3-stars to be competent and professional. A plus means I found a story likeable. I’m going to keep reading from 1955 Amazing for a bit longer.
“Party Line” by Gérard Klein is story #49 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “Party Line” was first published in French in Fiction (March 1969). It was translated into English in 1976 for The Best from the Rest of World: European Science Fiction edited by Donald A. Wollheim.
This is the second appearance of Gérard Klein in The World Treasury of Science Fiction. See my earlier review of “The Valley of Echoes.” After I read that story, I bought two of Klein’s novels, but I haven’t read them yet. I’m not sure I would have done that after only reading “Party Line.” However, one of those novels, The Day Before Tomorrow has a blurb that could fit with “Party Line” — “To Dominate the Future — Change the Past.”
“Party Line” uses one of my favorite science fictional concepts — having a future older-self influence a younger-self. Jerome Bosch is working in his office when he receives two phone calls on two separate phones. The phone in the left hand tells him he’s going to receive a terrific opportunity, and the one is the right warns against taking it.
Jerome Bosch is also a writer. He fantasizes at work about having all his time free to write. And I must wonder if Klein was working in his office one day, daydreaming this idea about himself and deciding to work it into a story. At first, it felt like “Party Line” was something Philip K. Dick would write. But then the dominant mood of the story shifted to indecision, paranoia, and fear, which is still PKD’s territory, but the story felt weirdly different, more like Kafka.
The first caller calls back and tells Jerome if he will only do what he says, his books will be made into movies, he will become rich and famous, and have lots of women. Then the other caller calls back and tells him something terrible will happen. For the rest of the story Jerome can’t decide.
I liked “Party Line” until I got to the end. Unfortunately, it’s one of those stories that promises a lot, but doesn’t know how to deliver on its promises. “Party Line” does have an ending, but one, I thought Klein had to scrounge up when he discovered he had painted himself into a corner.
I wrote an older self advises younger self story when I was at Clarion West. The problem is people seldom take advice. I wondered if someone would take advice from themselves. Klein complicates the idea by having two versions of his future self give him advice. That created a lot of tension for the story, but I wonder if “Party Line” would have been better if Jerome had only gotten one phone call from the future. How many people would jump at getting everything they wanted if they got a message from their future self?
The idea of an older version of a person trying to influence their younger self is a challenging problem for writers. David Gerrold did an excellent job with it in The Man Who Folded Himself. But to fully explore the idea, I think people should read Replay by Ken Grimwood. It’s not the same exact idea, but it works out the same philosophical problem. The idea needs novel length to work out.
I believe my disappointment with “Party Line” is because Gérard Klein should have made it into a novel and worked out a satisfying ending. However, I might reread “Party Line” in the future and see it differently. Maybe my future self will understand it better.
Over at the Facebook group Best Science Fiction and Fantasy Short Fiction I’m about to lead Group Read 63 starting September 7th. It will be devoted to the best short SF stories from 1955. We have four moderators, of which I’m one. We take turns leading our Facebook group in reading an anthology, or other collections of SF short stories. I’ve decided my group reads will become an ongoing project of reading the best short SF of the year starting in 1955 (which was when the Hugo Awards began). We won’t use a specific anthology but use the Classics of Science Fiction database. Most of the stories will come from the anthologies pictured above, but we hope they are widely found in many anthologies and online. Participation often depends on the availability of stories.
To keep Group Read 63 reading list short, to around 15-20 stories for each year, the minimum number of citations in the database was set to 2. You can use the List Builder to see the stories for each year. Set the Start Year and End Year to the same year (in this case “1955”), the Minimum Citations to “2,” and Citation Type to “Story.” If you set the citation to one, you’ll see all the stories in the database from 1955. If you click on “Show Citation” you will see the citation sources.
Here’s our reading list for 1955 ordered by number of citations. That gives us twenty-two stories, of which we’ve previously read and discussed seven. For Group Read 63, we’ll read the fifteen we haven’t discussed before. Here they are with their start discussion dates:
09/07/23 – “Allamagoosa” by Eric Frank Russell
09/09/23 – “Nobody Bothers Gus” by Algis Budrys
09/12/23 – “The Tunnel Under the World” by Frederik Pohl
09/14/23 – “A Canticle for Leibowitz” by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
09/16/23 – “One Ordinary Day, with Peanuts” by Shirley Jackson
09/19/23 – “The Cave of Night” by James E. Gunn
09/21/23 – “The Darfsteller” by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
09/23/23 – “The Dead Fish” by Boris Vian
02/26/23 – “Delenda Est” by Poul Anderson
09/28/23 – “Dreaming Is a Private Thing” by Isaac Asimov
09/30/23 – “Home There’s No Returning” by Henry Kuttner, C. L. Moore
10/03/23 – “Judgment Day” by L. Sprague de Camp
10/05/23 – “The Short Life” by Francis Donovan
10/07/23 – “The Short-Short Story of Mankind” by John Steinbeck
10/10/23 – “Who?” by Theodore Sturgeon
The seven previously discussed stories will be reviewed on 10/12/23. They are (with previous discussion link):
My turn to lead a group read comes up about four times a year, which means the years 1956-1959 will be covered next year in 2024. That’s assuming the group likes this idea.
I plan during the weeks we’re discussing the stories from 1955 to have an ongoing thread where people can write about any story they’ve read and admired from 1955. And I will have another thread discussing what was happening with science fiction in general in 1955, with a focus on SF magazines.
What I’m hoping to achieve is an ongoing study of the evolution of science fiction starting with the year 1955. The Facebook group is open to anyone, but if you join, please answer the two questions. We use those two questions to weed out spammers and let people know our group is focused on science fiction short stories. (For people who hate Facebook, we try hard to police the group and keep out spammers, trolls, self-promoters, and off-topic comments that ruin the atmosphere of the group.)
Here are the posts we’ve made planning the project. As we discuss stories they will be automatically added to that link.
To get you interested in 1955, here’s Rich Horton’s review of the 1956 Hugo Award. He goes over the winners, finalists, and stories he thought should have been considered.
I also hope to review the stories individually here for this blog.
“Nobody’s Home” by Joanna Russ is story #48 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “Nobody’s Home” was first published in 1972 in New Directions II, an original anthology edited by Robert Silverberg.
“Nobody’s Home” is one of those science fiction stories where the author tries to cram in as many speculative ideas into each sentence and paragraph as possible. Joanna Russ paints us a picture of a utopian future where the Earth’s population is vastly smaller, and everyone is rich enough to do whatever they want. The whole of humanity routinely wanders across the face of the Earth via teleportation booths, seeing sites, having casual affairs, pursuing hobbies, whims, and vocations. If they wanted, they could view twenty-five sunsets from various locations around the world in one twenty-four-hour period. And they can choose any environment, no matter how extreme, in which to build their abodes.
Janina, our main character, is highly intelligent and lives in a family commune that includes numerous kinds of marriage arrangements, hookups, and parent-child relationships. Their family name is Komarov. This reminded me of the group marriages in “The Star Pit” by Samuel R. Delany. Household members speak in clever repartee that challenge each other in verbal games. The parents are all geniuses, and their children are even smarter.
So, what kind of problems mar this bright future? Well, the commune gets a visit from a young woman named Leslie Smith, who is ordinary. I assume Leslie is like one of us from the 21st century. She’s not that smart, not that good looking, not that clever. She can handle monotonous work tasks and enjoys herself by pursuing boring solitary activities. She can’t play the verbal games, nor can she pick up on the household’s carefully crafted social customs. Leslie is a bringdown to have around. The group tries to be kind to her, but in the end, they decide to pass Leslie on, like so many others have done with her before.
I’m curious why Russ wrote this story. Russ was a highly intelligent woman, so I wondered if the story was inspired by having to deal with a dull house guest. Or did she imagine a far-out future and wanted to point out that present-day plebians like us wouldn’t fit in with the hoi polloi of the future.
I know I couldn’t keep up with the future world of “Nobody’s Home.” I struggled to read the story slow enough to decipher all the alluded to ideas that Russ presented.
But, what about the title “Nobody’s Home?” Could Russ have intended something different? Could the unease the Komarov family felt when Leslie shows up be caused by them recognizing their own lack of purpose? That instead of no one being at home in Leslie’s head, that there’s no one home in their commune, or even Earth?
Joanna Russ is famous for her feminist fiction, but I didn’t feel this story was about feminism. This is the third time I’ve read this story and I’m still not sure what it’s about. It could be an attack on the high-tech fantasies science fiction writers love to give to the future. I imagine if you’re a science fiction reader who feels like a Slan, then maybe you see there’s nobody home regarding Leslie. But if you’re a critic of science fiction, you might think there’s nobody home with these Eloi-like beings of this future.
Classics of Science Fiction 