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

The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell

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.

  1. Harrison Bergeron • (1961) • short story by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
  2. Forgetfulness • (1937) • novelette by John W. Campbell, Jr.
  3. Special Flight • (1939) • novelette by John Berryman
  4. Chronopolis • (1960) • novelette by J. G. Ballard
  5. Triceratops • (1982) • short story by Kono Tensei
  6. The Man Who Lost the Sea • (1959) • short story by Theodore Sturgeon
  7. On the Inside Track • (1986) • novelette by Karl Michael Armer
  8. The Golem • (1955) • short story by Avram Davidson
  9. The New Prehistory • (1983) • short story by René Rebetez-Cortes
  10. A Meeting with Medusa • (1971) • novelette by Arthur C. Clarke
  11. The Valley of Echoes • (1973) • short story by Gérard Klein
  12. The Fifth Head of Cerberus • (1972) • novella by Gene Wolfe
  13. The Chaste Planet • (1975) • short story by John Updike
  14. The Blind Pilot • short story by Nathalie-Charles Henneberg]
  15. The Men Who Murdered Mohammed • (1958) • short story by Alfred Bester
  16. Pairpuppets • (1976) • short story by Manuel van Loggem
  17. Two Dooms • (1958) • novella by C. M. Kornbluth
  18. Tale of the Computer That Fought a Dragon • (1977) • short story by Stanislaw Lem
  19. The Green Hills of Earth • (1947) • short story by Robert A. Heinlein
  20. Ghost V • (1954) • short story by Robert Sheckley
  21. The Phantom of Kansas • (1976) • novelette by John Varley
  22. Captain Nemo’s Last Adventure • (1973) • novelette by Josef Nesvadba
  23. Inconstant Moon • (1971) • novelette by Larry Niven
  24. The Gold at the Starbow’s End • (1972) • novella by Frederik Pohl
  25. A Sign in Space • (1968) • short story by Italo Calvino
  26. The Spiral • (1968) • short story by Italo Calvino
  27. The Dead Past • (1956) • novelette by Isaac Asimov
  28. The Lens • (1984) • short story by Annemarie van Ewijck
  29. The Hurkle Is a Happy Beast • (1949) • short story by Theodore Sturgeon
  30. Zero Hour • (1947) • short story by Ray Bradbury
  31. Nine Lives • (1969) • novelette by Ursula K. Le Guin
  32. The Muse • (1968) • short story by Anthony Burgess
  33. The Public Hating • (1955) • short story by Steve Allen
  34. Poor Superman • (1952) • novelette by Fritz Leiber
  35. Angouleme • (1971) • short story by Thomas M. Disch
  36. Stranger Station • (1956) • novelette by Damon Knight
  37. The Dead Fish • (1955) • short story by Boris Vian
  38. I Was the First to Find You • (1977) • short story by Kirill Bulychev
  39. The Lineman • (1957) • novella by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
  40. Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius • (1962) • short story by Jorge Luis Borges
  41. Codemus • (1976) • short story by Tor Åge Bringsvaerd
  42. A Kind of Artistry • (1962) • novelette by Brian W. Aldiss
  43. Second Variety • (1953) • novelette by Philip K. Dick
  44. Weihnachtsabend • (1972) • novelette by Keith Roberts
  45. I Do Not Love Thee, Doctor Fell • (1955) • short story by Robert Bloch
  46. Aye, and Gomorrah … • (1967) • short story by Samuel R. Delany
  47. How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface • (1977) • short story by Stanislaw Lem
  48. Nobody’s Home • (1972) • short story by Joanna Russ
  49. Party Line • (1976) • novelette by Gérard Klein
  50. The Proud Robot • (1943) • novelette by Henry Kuttner
  51. Vintage Season • (1946) • novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore
  52. The Way to Amalteia • (1984) • novella by Arkady Strugatsky and Boris Strugatsky

James Wallace Harris, 9/1/23

“Vintage Season” by C. L. Moore and Henry Kuttner

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.

James Wallace Harris, 8/31/23

“The Proud Robot” by Lewis Padgett

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.

James Wallace Harris, 8/29/23