When Did Movies and Television First Portray a Science Fiction Fan?

For years I thought Back to the Future was the first film to portray a science fiction fan. That 1985 movie featured Crispin Glover as George McFly, a nerdy kid who grows up to become a science fiction writer. Most of the action was set in 1955. Well, the other night I watched Artists and Models that came out in 1955. It features Jerry Lewis as Eugene, a nerdy guy who loves Bat Lady comics and talks about a lot of crazy science fiction stuff.

In neither role, does the science fiction fan come across as competent. They are goofy space cadets. Is this how the world thinks of us? Life Magazine introduced science fiction fandom to the world in a May 21, 1951, issue. (See my essay that reprints those pages.)

In the late 1950s, Philip K. Dick wrote a mainstream novel about a science fiction fan, Confessions of a Crap Artist. It’s my favorite PKD novel. The book was made into a 1992 French movie I’ve never seen.

Science fiction movies go back to the early days of film making, but readers and writers of science fiction have seldom been portrayed. Can you think of any other examples?

The most loving and positive example of science fiction I can think of is from television, the 1998 episode of Deep Space Nine called “Far Beyond the Stars.” In it, Captain Sisko is shown as a struggling African American science fiction writer working at a Galaxy-like SF magazine in 1953. There’s also a wonderful paperback novelization of the episode by Steven Barnes.

Let me know of any movies or television shows you know about that featured a science fiction reader or writer as a character, or even discussed the subject of science fiction?

James Wallace Harris, 11/1/23

Artists and Models is quite silly, but very colorful. It’s Shirley MacLaine’s second film, and she’s the model for the Bat Lady.

Has Science Fiction Left Me Behind?

The above books were the finalists for the 2023 Hugo Awards. I have not read any of them. Nor do they look interesting to me. Each year the Hugo and Nebula award finalists seem further and further away from what I want to read.

The other day I went into a new bookstore for the first time in many months. I went up and down the aisles of the science fiction section and I was shocked by how many books were by authors that were unknown to me.

I turn seventy-two next month and I wonder if I’ve gotten too old for science fiction. Or, has the genre left me in the dust? I can accept that I might be too old to keep up. Could the genre have changed, and I’ve just lost interest? Who knows?

In the 20th century I’m sure I read at least a thousand science fiction books, probably many more. Here’s a list of the 69 SF&F books I’ve read in the 21st century:

  • 2000 – Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling (Hugo winner)
  • 2000 – Calculating God by Robert J. Sawyer (Hugo finalist)
  • 2001 – American Gods by Neil Gaiman (Hugo winner)
  • 2001 – Perdido Street Station by China Miéville (Hugo finalist)
  • 2002 – Altered Carbon by Richard K. Morgan
  • 2003 – The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
  • 2004 – Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell
  • 2004 – Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke (Hugo winner)
  • 2004 – The Plot Against America by Philip Roth
  • 2005 – Spin by Robert Charles Wilson (Hugo winner)
  • 2005 – Old Man’s War by John Scalzi (Hugo finalist)
  • 2005 – Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
  • 2006 – The Road by Cormac McCarthy
  • 2006 – Life As We Knew It by Susan Beth Pfeffer
  • 2007 – The Yiddish Policeman’s Union by Michael Chabon (Hugo winner)
  • 2008 – The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
  • 2008 – Little Brother by Cory Doctorow (Hugo finalist)
  • 2008 – Flood by Stephen Baxter
  • 2008 – Marsbound by Joe Haldeman
  • 2009 – The City & The City by China Miéville (Hugo winner)
  • 2009 – The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi (Hugo finalist)
  • 2009 – Boneshaker by Cherie Priest (Hugo finalist)
  • 2009 – Julian Comstock by Robert Charles Wilson (Hugo finalist)
  • 2009 – Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
  • 2009 – Wake by Robert J. Sawyer
  • 2010 – Feed by Mira Grant (Hugo finalist)
  • 2010 – Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins
  • 2010 – Watch by Robert J. Sawyer
  • 2010 – Hull Zero Three by Greg Bear
  • 2011 – Among Others by Jo Walton (Hugo winner)
  • 2011 – Leviathan Wakes by James S. A. Corey (Hugo finalist)
  • 2011 – The Martian by Andy Weir
  • 2011 – Ready Player One by Ernest Cline
  • 2011 – Wonder by Robert J. Sawyer
  • 2012 – Redshirts by John Scalzi (Hugo winner)
  • 2012 – 2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson (Hugo finalist)
  • 2012 – The Dog Stars by Peter Heller
  • 2012 – The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker
  • 2012 – vN by Madeline Ashby
  • 2014 – The Three Body Problem by Cixin Liu (Hugo winner)
  • 2014 – Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer
  • 2014 – Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
  • 2014 – The Girl with All the Gifts by M. R. Carey
  • 2014 – The Book of the Unnamed Midwife by Meg Elison
  • 2014 – Yesterday’s Kin by Nancy Kress
  • 2015 – Seveneves by Neal Stephenson (Hugo finalist)
  • 2015 – Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky
  • 2015 – Binti by Nnedi Okorafor
  • 2015 – Aurora by Kim Stanley Robinson
  • 2015 – The Water Knife by Paolo Bacigalupi
  • 2016 – All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders (Hugo finalist)
  • 2017 – New York 2140 by Kim Stanley Robinson (Hugo finalist)
  • 2017 – All Systems Red by Martha Wells
  • 2017 – Sea of Rust by C. Robert Cargill
  • 2017 – Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeanette Ng
  • 2017 – Noumenon – Marina J. Lostetter
  • 2018 – The Calculating Stars by Mary Robinette Kowal (Hugo winner)
  • 2018 – Semiosis by Sue Burke
  • 2018 – The Fated Sky by Mary Robinette Kowal
  • 2018 – The Feed by Nick Clark Windo
  • 2019 – Children of Ruin by Adrian Tchaikovsky
  • 2019 – Machines Like Me by Ian McEwan
  • 2020 – The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson
  • 2020 – The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
  • 2021 – Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir (Hugo finalist)
  • 2021 – Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro
  • 2022 – Babel by R. F. Kuang
  • 2022 – The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler
  • 2022 – Sea of Tranquility

That’s an average of 2.8 SF&F books a year. Assuming I read a thousand SF books from 1963-1999, means I averaged 27.78 SF books a year. I think I could have easily read 1,500 SF books, or 41.67 SF books a year. In other words, I don’t read SF like I used to. And my 21st century list includes quite a few fantasies. I rarely read fantasy in the 20th century. I really don’t like fantasy books. I only read them when they reach a certain pop culture status.

One reason for the shift is I read more literary works and nonfiction books. Another reason is after reading thousands of science fiction books, I seldom read reviews of new science fiction books that sound different enough to be appealing.

I used to keep up with the genre by belonging to the Science Fiction Book Club, which offered two new titles a month. I subscribed to several science fiction magazines and fanzines that reviewed new books. And I would visit one or two new bookstores a week.

Fanzines disappeared, and I stopped having time for the prozines even though I still subscribed. After Amazon and Audible, I stopped shopping in new bookstores, and they eventually disappeared. Back in the 1970s I went to conventions and even published fanzines. In the 1980s I ran a BBS devoted to science fiction. Since the 1990s I’ve run websites and databases devoted to SF. Once upon a time all my friends were SF readers. But active participation in fandom ended when I got married and settled down to work in 1978. I became a different person socially.

Since 2002, I’ve been rereading the science fiction I first read in the 20th century by listening to audiobook editions from Audible.com. It’s a kind of nostalgic trip. I also caught up on a lot of 20th century science fiction I missed. That also kept me from reading many new SF books.

But in all honesty, I prefer old science fiction to new science fiction. There’s been some great exceptions, but I think that’s the real reason I’ve let the genre pass me by.

I wish the Science Fiction Writers of America never embraced fantasy. I wish the Hugo Awards had focused exclusively on science fiction. Fantasy should have their own fan-based award. I can’t help but wonder if the science fiction genre would be more vibrant today if it hadn’t been married to the fantasy genre. Even books marketed as science fiction often feel like fantasies. Looking back, I would have preferred a smaller, focused SF genre, one I could have kept up with.

Science fiction used to have some realism, or at least some speculative integrity. Now, any old wild idea works. Science fiction used to be inspired from reality, now new writers are inspired mostly by science fiction movies. It’s as if all science fiction is recursive science fiction.

Who knows, maybe I left science fiction behind.

James Wallace Harris, 10/22/23

What Do You Want from a Great Science Fiction Robot Story?

For me, great science fiction is about certain concepts: space travel, aliens, the future, time travel, human evolution, alternate history, artificial intelligence, and robots. As I’ve gotten older, I crave tradition in new stories. I’ve gotten rather fussy about how these cherished fictional topics are handled. I don’t like too much innovation. I want to see evolution in these ideas, but not radical new-fangled reinventions. I don’t mind reimagining or rebooting of the concepts, but it depresses me to read stories that have lost the original intent of science fiction.

I started reading “Perfection” by Seanan McGuire and was hugely disappointed. It’s the first story in Robots Through the Ages, a new anthology edited by Robert Silverberg and Bryan Thomas Schmidt. (Currently, $1.99 for the Kindle.) I love a good robot story, and was excited to start reading this anthology, but unfortunately, “Perfection” wasn’t the kind of robot story I was anxious to read. I’m not saying “Perfection” is a bad story, but it’s not about my kind of robot, or what I would call a science fiction story. It’s told in an allegorical style that suggests the story has a message like a modern-day Aesop’s fable. It could be a little postmodern fantasy commenting on science fiction, or just a nice old-fashioned fantasy fable for the contemporary reader. (Luckily, the editors jump back to classic SF stories about robots after “Perfection.”)

Science fiction is a byproduct of modernism. Religion/mythology is the worldview before enlightenment and modernism and the territory of fantasy, not science fiction. I don’t believe science fiction belongs in the postmodern territory either. “Perfection” blends fantasy and postmodernism and appears to see perfection in a robot — although its message is probably satirized, at which point it’s really rejecting robots. Is the transformed wife and husband perfect? Or are we supposed to be horrified by what the modernistic SF world has sought?

This made me think – what are my kind of robots? Science fiction claims certain themes for the genre, and robots have always been one of its major themes. Science fiction writers haven’t portrayed robots consistently though. What we often call robots vary tremendously, from mechanical beings, to androids, replicants, cyborgs, sexbots, and synthetic humans.

More importantly, the kind of robots I like best are science fictional, and truly modernistic. I dislike fantasy and postmodern robots. Often, it’s difficult to tell what kind of philosophy a robot story is set, especially when the robots look indistinguishable from humans. Sometimes a sexbot is really a robot, and sometimes it stands in for something allegorical, metaphorical, or symbolic.

Me, I like robots to be robots. I want them to be sentient, but not slaves. I don’t like robots that pass as humans. I don’t mind robots to be somewhat humanoid in shape, but I don’t want them to be substitutes for humans. And if they’re sentient, they must be free, and not things we own. Asimov’s robots were not supposed to be sentient, and thus we owned them, and they had to do our work. I liked Simak’s robots better, but they were more like P. G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves. Simak’s robots were faithful servants, but were they paid? Or were they property? Asimov’s R. Daneel Olivaw was a co-worker. I want science fiction to be about robots that are independent. I expect robots to be the intelligent species that either co-exist with humans or are our descendants. Of course, sometimes that means a story like The Humanoids by Jack Williamson.

I really dislike the concept of sexbots and human brains downloaded into robot bodies that look perfectly human. We have plenty of humans, we don’t need ersatz copies.

Overall, I’ve been disappointed with how science fiction has presented robots. The stories I’ve like best were sentimental stories about robots like “Rust” by Joseph K. Kelleam.

Is Data from Star Trek a robot by your definition? Is he closer to C-3PO than Roy Batty? I don’t consider the replicants from the film Blade Runner to be robots. But I do for the androids in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Androids that pass perfectly for humans in appearance aren’t robots to me, but Data still acts mechanical enough to consider “him” a robot.

The first robots I remember from my earliest memories are those from the film Target Earth. They were clunky killers and supposed to be scary – they were scary when I was a little kid back in the 1950s, but now they’re laughable looking. The robots in Forbidden Planet and Lost in Space were way cool, but they had lousy hands. Data from Star Trek is probably among the best robots in science fiction, but ST’s producers and writers kept wanting to make him human. I just don’t see humanity as an ideal to model from.

My favorite robots in science fiction were stationary AI computers. Mike from The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Galatea from Galatea 2.2 by Richard Powers, HARLIE from When HARLIE Was One, and Webmind from the Wake, Watch, Wonder trilogy by Robert J. Sawyer.

I’m reading Robot Through the Ages and We Robots edited by Simon Ings hoping to find more science fictional robots I like. I’m surprised by how many I don’t like. Rucky Rucker had some wild robots. Lots of people love the Murderbot series, but he’s too human for me, but still fun. Lately, there’s been a lot of little stories about droids that are fun and cute.

I’m sure I’m forgetting a lot of great robots from science fiction. What were your favorites? What do you look for in a great robot?

James Wallace Harris, 10/16/23

When Writing “An Appearance of Life” How Many SF Concepts Did Brian Aldiss Consider?

I’ve written about “An Appearance of Life” twice before. See “‘An Appearance of Life’ by Brian W. Aldiss” and “Who Were the Korlevalulaw?” I’ve read this story four times before, and for this fifth reading I’m looking deeper into what Aldiss was hoping to communicate. I don’t think we get everything with one reading of a story, or even two or three. This essay is about the value of rereading.

You can read “An Appearance of Life” at Archive.org if you have a free account.

For this reading I wanted to observe as many science-fictional concepts Aldiss was presenting in the story as I could spot. I’m doing this for several reasons. First, I want to show how science fiction builds on past science fiction. Second, I want to show how a reader’s previous reading experience can add to the current reading experience. Third, I want to show just how many new situations a science fiction writer must imagine building a new story. Fourth, I want to see if there are things I missed from earlier readings.

  1. Lost ancient alien civilization. I first encountered this theme with After Worlds Collide, but it also made famous with the film The Forbidden Planet. One of my favorite SF themes. The first part of “An Appearance of Life” uses this old theme and Aldiss calls that lost alien civilization the Korlevalulaw.
  2. On the planet Norma, less than a thousand light-years from Earth, a giant museum is being created to house artifacts from countless alien and human civilizations. The planet was once part of the Korlevalulaw galactic civilization. The museum is put inside a giant building that circles the entire planet, dividing it from land area to the north, and ammonia ocean to the south. This idea is new to me, so I’ll credit it to Aldiss’ imagination. However, megastructures are common in science fiction. This one reminds me of a smaller version of Ringworld.
  3. Aliens as demons. Little is known of the Korlevalulaw. Sometimes they are pictured as demons. That reminded me of Childhood’s End. But I’ve read several SF stories over the years that suggested ancient demons were aliens.
  4. Aliens as gods. Sometimes the Korlevalulaw are pictured as gods. This reminds me of Lovecraft’s ancient elder gods, and other SF stories, as well as Chariots of the Gods.
  5. Aliens in SF come from our deepest subconscious thoughts. And like God and gods, we expect them to return, to judge and punish us.
  6. Ultimate evolution. We imagine all the reasons why the Korlevalulaw disappeared. They gave up written language and evolved beyond physical bodies into pure mind, they left this universe, they committed species suicide. All these speculations are common in science fiction stories.
  7. The narrator, called The Seeker, comes from a planet where people seldom see each other, except for when they meet to breed. This reminds me of The Naked Sun.
  8. The Seeker stands next to his spaceship looking up at the giant museum building lying under a purple sun. Such immense vistas are often shown in SF paintings.
  9. An android greets the Seeker. Androids work tirelessly building the museum’s collections. Twenty human women supervise them. The androids provide the Seeker with a vehicle to ride inside the museum. The giant building is made of a single piece of imperviable metal, forming a 16,000-kilometer band around the planet. Such indestructible alloy and super-science architecture is common in SF stories. I’m especially reminded me of The Day the Earth Stood Still.
  10. The building feels immense on the inside, and it’s mostly empty though the humans have been piling up exhibits for ten centuries. The Seeker feels a sense of infinity inside the building. SF writers in the 1930s and 1940s liked to imagine giant awe-inspiring scenes. Even though this story was published in 1976, after Aldiss had gone through his New Wave period, it harkens back to the 1930s and Thrilling Wonder Stories. In some ways he’s following in the footsteps of Stanley Weinbaum.
  11. The Korlevalulaw building gives the Seeker a sense of infinity, causing him to feel insignificant and “clausagoraphobia.” Interesting made-up word by Aldiss.
  12. The Seeker has specialized training in concepts we don’t understand, but it gives him the power to see connections that others don’t. Humanity has created countless subdivisions in every discipline, and the Seeker can envision relationships across boundary lines. Heinlein often created generalists in the age of specialists.
  13. The Seeker came to the museum with several research assignments from institutions, universities, and individuals. For example, one assignment was to study whether the human voice was getting quieter over the centuries.
  14. The Seeker spends days studying the museum, living out of his car. At one point, he talks to a female android who is setting up an exhibit of extinct micro-organisms. I wonder why the android is female. Are there male androids. And why are the supervisors human females? Does Aldiss picture this place like many old science fiction movies from the 1950s where human males discover societies run by females. Does Aldiss visualize his scenes or expect his readers to visualize them? Is the Seeker male? Is Aldiss suggesting all posthumans are female?
  15. The Seeker contemplates the umwelt of androids. He assumes their sense of reality is much larger than ours. He also assumes their activities make them happy. This is the first time I can remember a SF writer considering the umwelt of anything.
  16. On the fifth day the Seeker studies ships and experiences nosthedony. This is a word Aldiss coined to mean “the pleasure of studying old objects.” See this blog post.
  17. The Seeker talks about the First Galactic Era, where men and their wives explored the galaxy in primitive machines. The Seeker notes this was also the time that human pair-bonding broke down and humanity began to mature.
  18. While exploring a five-person spaceship where all the occupants had died of a malfunction of the oxygen producing system, he finds a small gold band with a crude inscription. He wonders if it was a contraceptive device. Of course, we assume it’s a wedding band.
  19. The Seeker asks an eye about the ring. The eye appears to be something like security camera/Alexa/AI able to answer questions about things in the museum. He is told the band is a wedding ring, and what wedding rituals were.
  20. The story shifts from the Korlevalulaw to ancient humans. We assume the Seeker is a posthuman. This is a neat trick. I’ve always loved reading science fiction about extinct alien civilizations, and now I’m reading about extinct humans.
  21. The Seeker thinks of the ring as a form of communication. It signals a relationship status. He also wonders if the pair bonding broke when the occupants of the ship died.
  22. The Seeker finds a photograph of a couple, we assume connected to the ring. The Seeker notes the photograph is flat, suggesting they have higher tech photographs. He also notes their appearance wasn’t bad looking, as if ancient humans looked different from posthumans. This reminds me of “The Time Machine.” Was Wells the first writer to deal with posthumans?
  23. The Seeker remembers being told by another Seeker, a woman, that the secret of the universe might be locked away in the museum. Our Seeker told the woman Seeker the secret would be more likely found after the museum is complete. She argues that it would be better to find it now, when there is less to look through. He argues back the idea that there is a secret to the universe is a human construct. She replied, human or from the mind that created humans. I don’t remember contemplating this short bit of conversation before. Humans do believe that there is a secret to the universe, and some humans believe it comes from God. It’s interesting that Aldiss suggests that posthumans will no longer believe in such secrets. It’s also interesting to think posthumans will be two degrees from God or the concept of God.
  24. On the sixth day the Seeker explores the ships of the Second Galactic Era. They are up to five kilometers long. Reading the words “on the sixth day” reminds me of The Book of Genesis. I wonder if Aldiss intended that.
  25. The Seeker talks about how in the Second Era humans tried and failed to create galactic civilizations but failed because distance and relativity wouldn’t allow it. He said it was then that humans became comfortable being who they were. It was a time when the species put away its childish things. Aldiss is very philosophical and speculative here. He’s also taking a swipe at science fiction, but it infers a lot of cherish science fictional fantasies are childish.
  26. The Seeker surveys shelves of possessions these people had. He noted that during the childish period humans were overwhelmed by possessions. The Seeker thinks: “These long-dead people had seemingly thought of little else but possession in one form or another; yet, like androids in similar circumstances, they could not have recognized the limitations of their own umwelt.” This is fascinating. I did not notice this in my earlier readings. Last year I read An Immense World by Ed Yong, and it was all about the umwelt in people and animals. That book made me think a lot about the concept of umwelt, which I had heard of before, but never studied. It’s fascinating that Aldiss was focused on the concept back in 1976.
  27. The Seeker finds a cube with a button. When pressed, the cube says, “You are not my husband, Chris Mailer. I talk only to my husband. Switch off and set me right way up.” The Seeker tells the cube her husband died 65,000 years ago.
  28. The Seeker asks the museum about the cube and is told it is a “holocap.” That a copy of the woman’s brain has been embedded into the cube. Downloading brains has become quite a common theme in science fiction over the last several decades. It’s been around at least since the Professor Jameson stories from the 1930s.
  29. The Seeker is told the cube was taken from a small armed scout ship orbiting the planet Scundra. It had been to the planet and was returning to its mother ship when it blew up. Scundran extremists had planted a bomb on it. In retaliation, the planet was sterilized by a virus from the mother ship. The virus got loose on the mother ship, and everyone died. The planet, scout ship, and mother ship had been ignored for centuries. The cube had come from the scout ship.
  30. The museum gives him a history of the planet. At one time the Soviet India had settled it, but there had been a war. The planet was currently unhabituated and was an automated farming planet.
  31. The Seeker contemplates the destruction of Scundra and eventually wonders if something similar could have happened to the Korlevalulaw. That Scundra had died over fighting for possessions.
  32. The Seeker also wonders about the relationship between the organic and the inorganic of the universe.
  33. The androids are unpacking objects taken from Scundra and the Seeker unwraps one from the apartment of a married couple, Jean, and Lan Gopal. It was another holocap, but a much more sophisticated one. It lit up when the Seeker accidentally pressed a small button. It gave the impression of a man’s head. It said, “This holocap is intended only for my ex-wife, Jean Gopal. I have no business with you. Switch off and be good enough to return me to Jean. This is Chris Mailer.” This holocap projected the appearance of Chris Mailer.
  34. The Seeker contemplated the coincidence. Noted that Jean had been young, and Chris much older. He decides to reunite them. Jean’s cube had been found on the planet and Chris’s cube was found on the scout ship. They had been on opposing sides of a war.
  35. After 650 centuries he put the two cubes together on a shelf about a meter apart. Aldiss dismissed the unbelievable coincidence because the androids were unpacking crates from the same locations.
  36. We are told of the conversation. We’re also told the Seeker did not understand the dynamics of the relationship because they are primitive beings. Jean’s cube was older, and her holographic head wasn’t as well defined as Chris’s holographic image. But Jean appeared younger. She apologized for breaking up the marriage but claimed to have been young and foolish.
  37. For Jean, it’s been 12 years. Chris talks about regret and Jean’s affair with Gopal. Chris speaks of receiving her holocap fifteen years ago. So, it’s been at least twenty-seven years since they broke up. Jean appears to want to get back together. Chris hopes that Gopal made her forget him. Chris admits they are enemies in the conflict. Then we learn that Jean sent her holocap from Earth. Evidently, in the subsequent years she and Gopal moved to Scundra.
  38. Eventually, the Seeker comprehends the two holocaps were not conversing, but merely repeating their messages. Jean’s message had been recorded before the divorce, while Chris’s message was recorded long afterwards. Chris had been traveling with Jean’s holocap for years. He had joined space mercenaries after the divorce.
  39. The Seeker saw that they could not get beyond their limited roles in life. And understanding those roles might be beyond him. And understanding the Korlevalulaw might be the same too.
  40. This revelation makes the Seeker say he had found the secret of the universe. That humans were just a projection of the Korlevalulaw, without free will. That humans are like the two holocaps. They really can’t communicate with each other, only say what they’ve been programmed to say. This was a powerful insight for Aldiss, but not for me. I still not sure I “got” the story as he intended.
  41. The Seeker starts doubting this insight. Then Aldiss says something absolutely true. We contain an umwelt but not a universe. This is an interesting distinction about our senses. We don’t look out onto reality, but instead model reality inside our head with limited sensory input. Basically, our sense of reality is biological VR. Is that what Aldiss was getting at in 1976?
  42. In the end, the Seeker leaves Norma but does not go home. He finds a planet without people to exile himself. He’s afraid his insight is a virus that could infect all of humanity and destroy it. It’s damn strange that I’m ending on #42, after the Seeker has found the meaning of the universe. Did the Seeker leave humanity on the seventh day?

“An Appearance of Life” is one of my all-time favorite science fiction stories. However, you probably won’t be able to find a copy. It’s rarely been reprinted. I considered violating copyright law and making a pdf for you all, but I’m afraid the estate of Brain W. Aldiss would sue me.

I hope I have shown that this story requires a deep experience of science fiction to appreciate. I also hope I have convinced you of the value of rereading. If you’ve only read “An Appearance of Life” once, did you get all of this?

James Wallace Harris, 10/13/23

Do You Buy the Best-of-the-Year Science Fiction Anthologies?

Back in 2018 I wrote an essay for Book Riot about all the best-of-the-year annual anthologies covering science fiction. The title claimed nine, but I added two more in an update that brought the total to eleven. In 2023 that number had dwindled considerably.

Gardner Dozois died in 2018 after publishing thirty-five giant best-of-the-year science fiction anthologies. Dozois set the pace for decades. Now, it seems the market for these best of the year anthologies has been breaking up. All 35-volumes of Dozois’ annual anthologies are still on sale.

Jonathan Strahan’s last annual anthology was The Year’s Best Science Fiction Vol. 2: The Saga Anthology of Science Fiction 2021 covering the best stories from 2020. (The year in these anthology titles are generally the year following the year the stories were first published.) I’ve been told that Strahan has said online that that series is finished.

Rich Horton’s last annual anthology was The Year’s Best Science Fiction and Fantasy 2021 Edition covering 2020. It came out as an ebook online, and it will be the last of Horton’s series.

Neil Clarke’s latest annual anthology is The Best Science Fiction of the Year Volume Seven published 9/5/23 in trade paper and hardcover. It’s late, covering 2021. Volume 8 is scheduled for next month, covering 2022. Online, Clarke has said he hopes to do an ebook and audiobook edition. It sounds like Clarke’s annual is still ongoing. Volume 7 is discussed at Black Gate and lists the table of contents.

The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2023 edited by John Joseph Adams and guest editor R. F. Kuang covers 2022, meaning it’s on time. It comes out October 17th in trade paper, ebook, and audiobook editions.

The Year’s Top Hard Science Fiction Stories 7 edited by Allan Kaster came out in June and seems to be going strong since it collects stories from 2022. Available as an ebook and trade paperback. I don’t know if Kaster will do a fourth edition of his other series, The Year’s Top Robot and AI Stories. The third edition came out in November 2022, so maybe it will.

This is sad, at least to me. Awhile back I wrote about what anthologies collected the best science fiction short stories and listed all the annuals from 1939-1999. I started a reading project to read them all, starting with 1939. I’m currently stuck on 1957. This has shown me their value in remembering short science fiction. If stories aren’t reprinted by the annuals or other anthologies, they are generally forgotten — unless the author gains enough fans to have a collection published.

I wonder what the demise of so many best-of-the-year science fiction anthologies implies? Did the market just get saturated and is now shaking out? Or, has interest in short fiction fallen off? Print magazines have had dwindling subscribers for decades. The big three of Analog, Asimov’s and F&SF are around ten thousand or fewer. At one time they had over a hundred thousand subscribers. Amazon killing off their Kindle subscriptions for these magazines is going to hurt. I hope it’s not fatal for these magazines.

Do you buy these best-of-the-year science fiction anthologies? I collect them, and own most of them in paper, ebook, and/or audiobook. And I belong to a Facebook group that discusses science fiction short stories. Even though we have 815 members, probably less than a dozen post regularly.

Long ago I wrote an essay about what was the best way to discover the greatest science fiction short stories of all time. I decided there were three approaches. Read a handful of retrospective anthologies, read all the best-of-the-year anthologies, or read all the SF magazines. I’ve taken the middle path.

I’ve wondered if best-of-the-year anthologies are dying if it’s a sign the science fiction genre is fading? Or is it a sign that science fiction publishers have been producing way too much science fiction? Are readers getting overwhelmed by all the authors and just pulling back to a few favorites?

Has our culture been oversaturated with science fiction? I’m a lifelong fan, but even I’m getting a little worn out with the genre. When I was growing up in the 1950s, westerns dominated the television screen and movie theater. Then for many decades science fiction has been extremely popular. Has interest in science fiction starting to fade?

I have a couple of other theories. Maybe short science fiction is fading because most readers prefer the novel? Or maybe many fans have lost interest in new science fiction and have turned to reading mostly old science fiction? That’s happening with me.

James Wallace Harris, 10/8/23

Could I Write a Science Fiction Story at 72?

In my teens, twenties, and thirties I desperately wanted to be a science fiction writer. At least I thought I did until I got married and got a job I liked. I still took creative writing classes and even attended Clarion West in 2002 when I was fifty-one. However, I never could stick with writing until I had a polished story. I’m just too lazy. Writing science fiction has always been more of a fantasy than a reality. I turn seventy-two next month, and I wonder if I’m too old to even dream that old dream. Why hasn’t it just faded away? (I wish it had — I could use the peace of mind.)

In recent years, I’ve often wondered if I could make myself write one story worthy of an editor’s acceptance? I have ideas, lots of ideas. Lots of finished but unpolished stories. I don’t know if I have any talent, but I do know I lack focus and perseverance to stick with writing a story until it’s worth submitting. But let’s imagine if I could muster up some discipline, what would I write about?

I no longer like science fiction the way I liked it when I was younger. For the most part, I don’t even like reading modern science fiction. And I’m not talking about plot ideas or prose styles. I always assumed I could never completely finish any of my stories because I didn’t like them enough.

It looks like I have two desires: one to write a story I love, and second to write a story an editor will buy. But that’s wrong too. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about editors and instead just try to please myself.

Putting it that way, I can see why I’ve always given up. I love very few stories. Writing something I loved will take a huge effort, maybe even an impossible one. Is this an ego problem I’m having, or am I just chicken about rejection? Probably all writers who got published just wrote stories until they found an audience and didn’t worry about who would like them. I should do that too, but I don’t know if I can. Knowing that advice is not enough to inspire me to keep working.

I’ve read many books advising would-be writers. They all say to not wait for inspiration, but just develop the discipline to write daily. This probably explains my failure. I don’t like writing fiction, it’s demanding work. The people I know that became successful fiction writers started writing stories early in life and always kept at it. They couldn’t stop writing. Evidently, wanting to do something is much different from doing something.

I’ve tried to forget this desire to write fiction for most of my life. It won’t go away. It just keeps gnawing at me. I knew one woman who had a science fiction story published and then never tried again. I wonder if that would free me too.

When I was young, I wanted to be a successful writer to make money, so I wouldn’t need to work a 9 to 5 job. But I’m retired now, and money and jobs aren’t an issue. At 72, I’d be writing just to write. I do write by blogging. Evidently, there’s something special about fiction that blogging doesn’t satisfy.

Is it an urge to create? To leave something behind? I’ve always been fascinated by those writers I find on ISFDB.org that have just a few stories listed. A fitting example is “The Short Life” by Francis Donovan which I wrote about last time. Donovan has one published story. Did he encapsulate everything he wanted to say about reality with that one fictional statement? That might come closest to explaining my urge to write a science fiction story. I want to say something that will be remembered.

Of course, having a science fiction story published isn’t like writing hieroglyphics on a pyramid. Still, I think I’ve dug up a clue about my life-long hankering to crank out a science fiction story. And it might also explain why I’d need to love it. Who wants to write a crappy epitaph for themselves?

I wish I could write something like “The Star Pit” by Samuel R. Delany. Or “An Appearance of Life” by Brian W. Aldiss. Or “Vintage Season” by C. L. Moore. Or even something short, like “The Light of Other Days” by Bob Shaw. Those would all be epitaph-worthy stories.

[Thank you for being my psychiatrist or priest and listening to my confessions.]

James Wallace Harris

“The Short Life” by Francis Donovan

Who was Francis Donovan? He has exactly one story listed in ISFDB, this one, “The Short Life.” That story first appeared in the October 1955 issue of Astounding Science Fiction. It was reprinted in three editions of Best SF Four edited by Edmund Crispin, and in a large retrospective anthology, The Best Science Fiction Stories (1977) – no editor listed. Since both of those anthologies were published in England, I assume Donovan may have been English.

You can read “The Short Life” online at Project Gutenberg and on the Internet Archive. You might want to get an EPUB version for your ebook reader since it’s a novella.

I’m recommending this story to my reading group who are discussing the best short science fiction of 1955. I was asking the group which novelettes or novellas they thought should have won the Hugo award back then if they didn’t like “The Darfsteller” by Walter M. Miller, Jr. I think “The Darfsteller” is an outstanding story, but then so is “The Short Life.”

I find it quite fascinating when I discover a great science fiction story by a forgotten science fiction writer, especially one that published only a handful of stories. Donovan only published one. If you know anything about Francis Donovan, please post it in the comments? And if you’ve read “The Short Life” leave a comment about what you think of the story, and how you discovered it.

“The Short Life” is about telepathy. I’m not going to tell you the plot, there’s not much of one, and all the explanations are withheld to the end, but it really gets into the ramifications of telepathy. It’s also about Homo Superior. And it’s about first contact. I hope that’s enough to entice you into trying it.

“The Short Life” reminds me a bit of “In Hiding” by Wilmar H. Shiras and The Man Who Fell to Earth by Walter Tevis. It belongs among the best short science fiction of 1955.

p.s.

I did find one other clue to Francis Donovan, a letter to the editor in the September 1934 issue of Astounding Science Fiction. Evidently, he wasn’t English if this is the same Francis Donovan.

James Wallace Harris, 9/23/23

1955 Astounding Overview

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.

James Wallace Harris, 9/9/23

“The Earth Quarter” by Damon Knight

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.

James Wallace Harris, 9/3/23

“The Way to Amalteia” by Arkady Strugatsky and Boris Strugatsky

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.

James Wallace Harris, 9/2/23