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

1955: Amazing Stories

For our Best of 1955 group read I thought I’d look over some of the less successful science fiction magazines published that year. I started with Amazing Stories. Howard Browne had been editing the magazine since 1950 but would leave in 1956 to move to Hollywood to become a moderately successful TV scriptwriter (Maverick, Cheyenne, Bourbon Street Beat, 77 Sunset Strip, Mission Impossible, Mannix, The Rockford Files). Browne helped Amazing Stories transition away from the pulp format and its obsession with the Shaver Mystery. He began 1955 with this editorial:

In the following issue Browne promised further improvements which included a book review column and a fanzine review column. Throughout 1955 the letter column kept growing, and it was apparent that Amazing Stories had its faithful fans. To help members of my reading group get a sense of the magazine, I made a .pdf file that had the covers, table of contents, book reviews, fanzine reviews, and some letters of comments from the seven issues of Amazing Stories from 1955. Get the file: 1955: Amazing Stories Overview. If you want, you can read the seven 1955 issues at the Internet Archive.

Despite Amazing Stories being the first magazine devoted to publishing exclusively science fiction, and its fame in science fiction history, damn few stories have been reprinted from its pages. In its early years, Amazing mostly published classic reprints by Wells, Verne, and others. Just look at the table of contents from two anthologies devoted to collecting the best of its stories:

Amazing Stories: 60 Years of the Best Science Fiction (1985) edited by Isaac Asimov and Martin H. Greenberg.

  • The Revolt of the Pedestrians • (1928) • novelette by David H. Keller, M.D.
  • The Gostak and the Doshes • (1930) • short story by Miles J. Breuer, M.D.
  • Pilgrimage • (1939) • novelette by Nelson S. Bond
  • I, Robot • (1939) • by Eando Binder
  • The Strange Flight of Richard Clayton • (1939) • short story by Robert Bloch
  • The Perfect Woman • (1953) • short story by Robert Sheckley
  • Memento Homo • (1954) • short story by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
  • What Is This Thing Called Love? • (1961) • short story by Isaac Asimov
  • Requiem • (1962) • short story by Edmond Hamilton
  • Hang Head, Vandal! • (1962) • short story by Mark Clifton
  • Drunkboat • (1963) • novelette by Cordwainer Smith
  • The Days of Perky Pat • (1963) • novelette by Philip K. Dick
  • Semley’s Necklace • (1964) • short story by Ursula K. Le Guin
  • Calling Dr. Clockwork • (1965) • short story by Ron Goulart
  • There’s No Vinism Like Chauvinism • novelette by John Jakes
  • The Oögenesis of Bird City • (1970) • short story by Philip José Farmer?
  • The Man Who Walked Home • (1972) • short story by James Tiptree, Jr.
  • Manikins • (1976) • short story by John Varley
  • In the Islands • (1983) • short story by Pat Murphy

The Best from Amazing Stories (1973) edited by Ted White

  • No Charge for Alterations • (1953) • novelette by H. L. Gold
  • The Augmented Agent • (1961) • novelette by Jack Vance
  • The Misfit • (1963) • short story by Roger Zelazny
  • The Dowry of Angyar • (1964) • short story by Ursula K. Le Guin
  • Placement Test • (1964) • novelette by Keith Laumer
  • The Horn of Time the Hunter • (1963) • short story by Poul Anderson
  • Phoenix • (1963) • short story by Marion Zimmer Bradley and Ted White
  • Rogue Psi • (1962) • novelette by James H. Schmitz

Not exactly classics, are they? And most of the stories by well-known authors were early works. So, I wasn’t expecting much when I went looking through the issues that came out in 1955. I found that most of the stories have never been reprinted since their publication in Amazing in 1955. And those few that were reprinted were reprinted in Amazing or other cheap reprint magazines.

I’ve always wondered why stories from Astounding/Analog, F&SF, and Galaxy have dominated the table of contents of anthologies published before 1970. Still, since my reading group will be discussing the best science fiction short stories from 1955, I thought I’d give Amazing Stories a look over. The first story of 1955 was:

I read “. . . now you don’t” by James Leland, to get the feel for things. You can read it online. This story is Leland’s only entry in ISFDB.org, and it gives no biographical data, so I don’t know how old he was. In 1955, most of the stories in Amazing were written by just a few writers, with several of them also packing the issues with pseudonyms. I’m guessing Leland was made up name. Since many of the stories have a New York City connection, and written by a small group of writers, I’m assuming they all knew each other and the editor. They appear to be young, smart, and precocious, but not very experienced or sophisticated. Maybe a little street wise, or trying to pass that off.

The writing for “. . . now you don’t” is not good, but it is readable, and even fun. I’d call it good bad writing. Leland has obviously seen the Frank Capra film, You Can’t Take It with You, and builds the setting and mood of “. . . now you don’t” around it. To add science fiction, he took H. G. Wells’ The Invisible Man and spiced it up with some Thorne Smith naughtiness. The story is just a tiny bit risqué, throwing in a few bits of innuendo. Leland tries to sound well-read by throwing in references to novels people read in college, but the story really reflects being well-read in pulp fiction.

I get the impression from looking through the stories that these guys were mostly would-be writers and used Amazing Stories as a practicum. Quite a few famous writers got their start with Amazing, but quickly moved on. There were no famous names in the 1955 issues, but there were in the 1954 and 1956 issues — such as Philip K. Dick and Frank Herbert.

The writer I was most interested in was Paul W. Fairman, who would become the editor of Amazing and Fantastic after Browne left in 1956. He was also the first editor of If. Fairman sometimes used the house name Ivar Jorgensen, which other writers also used. Using the Jorgensen name, Fairman published “Deadly City” in the March 1953 issue of If. That was one of my favorite stories from 1953, and it was made into the film Target Earth in 1954. That was one of the first science fiction movies I saw as a kid back in the 1950s. Fairman also wrote about twenty forgotten SF novels, many coauthored with Lester del Rey.

Fairman had seven stories published in 1955, three in Amazing and four in Fantastic. I figured I would start with those three stories to see if any of them were worth remembering in 2023. Amazing Stories was a decent place to start a writing career but a terrible place to be left behind.

Fairman published “The Cosmic Frame” in May, a story about two teenagers on a date who run over an alien in a Packard. The alien’s companions take an interesting revenge on the kids. In September, Fairman wrote about a more complicated alien invasion in “One Man to Kill.” Finally, in November, he told a man from Mars story, “The Man in the Ice Box” — although the superintelligent alien in this story wasn’t really from Mars. Because the four stories I’ve read by Fairman all involve invasions from space I could think of him as Mr. Alien Invader.

The three Fairman stories from 1955 Amazing were all readable and entertaining enough if you shut your critical eye. They were about as good as an average TV show from the 1950s. All three would have made middling episodes of The Twilight Zone, especially “The Man in the Ice Box,” which started out like a humorous TZ but ended with a nice philosophical punch. “The Cosmic Frame” would have made a TZ episode with a horrifying twist ending.

However, none of the stories I’ve read out of Amazing from 1955 have any sparkle or pizzazz. They were okay hack writing. Back in the 1960s when I first discovered Amazing and Fantastic, it was in used bookshops, and I could get them for a dime. I like the ones edited by Cele Goldsmith. Then I started buying the new ones edited by Ted White. They were never as good as F&SF, Galaxy, or Analog, but they were fun. I don’t know if I should admit it, but I found the stories from Amazing 1955 more entertaining than many of the intellectual/literary stories in The Big Book of Science Fiction or The World Treasury of Science Fiction — both anthologies that tried to impress that science fiction is sophisticated, worldly, and diverse.

If you liked the old Winston Science Fiction series from the 1950s, you might like Amazing Stories from the 1950s too.

I haven’t found a story yet that I’d make a case it was one of the best SF stories of 1955. I’d rate them all 2+ stars, which is my way of saying they were less than professionally written, but likeable. I consider 3-stars to be competent and professional. A plus means I found a story likeable. I’m going to keep reading from 1955 Amazing for a bit longer.

James Wallace Harris, 8/26/23

“Party Line” by Gérard Klein

Party Line” by Gérard Klein is story #49 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “Party Line” was first published in French in Fiction (March 1969). It was translated into English in 1976 for The Best from the Rest of World: European Science Fiction edited by Donald A. Wollheim.

This is the second appearance of Gérard Klein in The World Treasury of Science Fiction. See my earlier review of “The Valley of Echoes.” After I read that story, I bought two of Klein’s novels, but I haven’t read them yet. I’m not sure I would have done that after only reading “Party Line.” However, one of those novels, The Day Before Tomorrow has a blurb that could fit with “Party Line” — “To Dominate the Future — Change the Past.”

“Party Line” uses one of my favorite science fictional concepts — having a future older-self influence a younger-self. Jerome Bosch is working in his office when he receives two phone calls on two separate phones. The phone in the left hand tells him he’s going to receive a terrific opportunity, and the one is the right warns against taking it.

Jerome Bosch is also a writer. He fantasizes at work about having all his time free to write. And I must wonder if Klein was working in his office one day, daydreaming this idea about himself and deciding to work it into a story. At first, it felt like “Party Line” was something Philip K. Dick would write. But then the dominant mood of the story shifted to indecision, paranoia, and fear, which is still PKD’s territory, but the story felt weirdly different, more like Kafka.

The first caller calls back and tells Jerome if he will only do what he says, his books will be made into movies, he will become rich and famous, and have lots of women. Then the other caller calls back and tells him something terrible will happen. For the rest of the story Jerome can’t decide.

I liked “Party Line” until I got to the end. Unfortunately, it’s one of those stories that promises a lot, but doesn’t know how to deliver on its promises. “Party Line” does have an ending, but one, I thought Klein had to scrounge up when he discovered he had painted himself into a corner.

I wrote an older self advises younger self story when I was at Clarion West. The problem is people seldom take advice. I wondered if someone would take advice from themselves. Klein complicates the idea by having two versions of his future self give him advice. That created a lot of tension for the story, but I wonder if “Party Line” would have been better if Jerome had only gotten one phone call from the future. How many people would jump at getting everything they wanted if they got a message from their future self?

The idea of an older version of a person trying to influence their younger self is a challenging problem for writers. David Gerrold did an excellent job with it in The Man Who Folded Himself. But to fully explore the idea, I think people should read Replay by Ken Grimwood. It’s not the same exact idea, but it works out the same philosophical problem. The idea needs novel length to work out.

I believe my disappointment with “Party Line” is because Gérard Klein should have made it into a novel and worked out a satisfying ending. However, I might reread “Party Line” in the future and see it differently. Maybe my future self will understand it better.

James Wallace Harris, 8/26/23

Group Read 63: The Best SF Short Stories of 1955

Over at the Facebook group Best Science Fiction and Fantasy Short Fiction I’m about to lead Group Read 63 starting September 7th. It will be devoted to the best short SF stories from 1955. We have four moderators, of which I’m one. We take turns leading our Facebook group in reading an anthology, or other collections of SF short stories. I’ve decided my group reads will become an ongoing project of reading the best short SF of the year starting in 1955 (which was when the Hugo Awards began). We won’t use a specific anthology but use the Classics of Science Fiction database. Most of the stories will come from the anthologies pictured above, but we hope they are widely found in many anthologies and online. Participation often depends on the availability of stories.

To keep Group Read 63 reading list short, to around 15-20 stories for each year, the minimum number of citations in the database was set to 2. You can use the List Builder to see the stories for each year. Set the Start Year and End Year to the same year (in this case “1955”), the Minimum Citations to “2,” and Citation Type to “Story.” If you set the citation to one, you’ll see all the stories in the database from 1955. If you click on “Show Citation” you will see the citation sources.

Here’s our reading list for 1955 ordered by number of citations. That gives us twenty-two stories, of which we’ve previously read and discussed seven. For Group Read 63, we’ll read the fifteen we haven’t discussed before. Here they are with their start discussion dates:

  • 09/07/23 – “Allamagoosa” by Eric Frank Russell
  • 09/09/23 – “Nobody Bothers Gus” by Algis Budrys
  • 09/12/23 – “The Tunnel Under the World” by Frederik Pohl
  • 09/14/23 – “A Canticle for Leibowitz” by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
  • 09/16/23 – “One Ordinary Day, with Peanuts” by Shirley Jackson
  • 09/19/23 – “The Cave of Night” by James E. Gunn
  • 09/21/23 – “The Darfsteller” by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
  • 09/23/23 – “The Dead Fish” by Boris Vian
  • 02/26/23 – “Delenda Est” by Poul Anderson
  • 09/28/23 – “Dreaming Is a Private Thing” by Isaac Asimov
  • 09/30/23 – “Home There’s No Returning” by Henry Kuttner, C. L. Moore
  • 10/03/23 – “Judgment Day” by L. Sprague de Camp
  • 10/05/23 – “The Short Life” by Francis Donovan
  • 10/07/23 – “The Short-Short Story of Mankind” by John Steinbeck
  • 10/10/23 – “Who?” by Theodore Sturgeon

The seven previously discussed stories will be reviewed on 10/12/23. They are (with previous discussion link):

My turn to lead a group read comes up about four times a year, which means the years 1956-1959 will be covered next year in 2024. That’s assuming the group likes this idea.

I plan during the weeks we’re discussing the stories from 1955 to have an ongoing thread where people can write about any story they’ve read and admired from 1955. And I will have another thread discussing what was happening with science fiction in general in 1955, with a focus on SF magazines.

What I’m hoping to achieve is an ongoing study of the evolution of science fiction starting with the year 1955. The Facebook group is open to anyone, but if you join, please answer the two questions. We use those two questions to weed out spammers and let people know our group is focused on science fiction short stories. (For people who hate Facebook, we try hard to police the group and keep out spammers, trolls, self-promoters, and off-topic comments that ruin the atmosphere of the group.)

Here are the posts we’ve made planning the project. As we discuss stories they will be automatically added to that link.

To get you interested in 1955, here’s Rich Horton’s review of the 1956 Hugo Award. He goes over the winners, finalists, and stories he thought should have been considered.

I also hope to review the stories individually here for this blog.

James Wallace Harris, 8/24/23

“Nobody’s Home” by Joanna Russ

Nobody’s Home” by Joanna Russ is story #48 of 52 from The World Treasury of Science Fiction edited by David G. Hartwell (1989), an anthology my short story club is group reading. Stories are discussed on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. “Nobody’s Home” was first published in 1972 in New Directions II, an original anthology edited by Robert Silverberg.

“Nobody’s Home” is one of those science fiction stories where the author tries to cram in as many speculative ideas into each sentence and paragraph as possible. Joanna Russ paints us a picture of a utopian future where the Earth’s population is vastly smaller, and everyone is rich enough to do whatever they want. The whole of humanity routinely wanders across the face of the Earth via teleportation booths, seeing sites, having casual affairs, pursuing hobbies, whims, and vocations. If they wanted, they could view twenty-five sunsets from various locations around the world in one twenty-four-hour period. And they can choose any environment, no matter how extreme, in which to build their abodes.

Janina, our main character, is highly intelligent and lives in a family commune that includes numerous kinds of marriage arrangements, hookups, and parent-child relationships. Their family name is Komarov. This reminded me of the group marriages in “The Star Pit” by Samuel R. Delany. Household members speak in clever repartee that challenge each other in verbal games. The parents are all geniuses, and their children are even smarter.

So, what kind of problems mar this bright future? Well, the commune gets a visit from a young woman named Leslie Smith, who is ordinary. I assume Leslie is like one of us from the 21st century. She’s not that smart, not that good looking, not that clever. She can handle monotonous work tasks and enjoys herself by pursuing boring solitary activities. She can’t play the verbal games, nor can she pick up on the household’s carefully crafted social customs. Leslie is a bringdown to have around. The group tries to be kind to her, but in the end, they decide to pass Leslie on, like so many others have done with her before.

I’m curious why Russ wrote this story. Russ was a highly intelligent woman, so I wondered if the story was inspired by having to deal with a dull house guest. Or did she imagine a far-out future and wanted to point out that present-day plebians like us wouldn’t fit in with the hoi polloi of the future.

I know I couldn’t keep up with the future world of “Nobody’s Home.” I struggled to read the story slow enough to decipher all the alluded to ideas that Russ presented.

But, what about the title “Nobody’s Home?” Could Russ have intended something different? Could the unease the Komarov family felt when Leslie shows up be caused by them recognizing their own lack of purpose? That instead of no one being at home in Leslie’s head, that there’s no one home in their commune, or even Earth?

Joanna Russ is famous for her feminist fiction, but I didn’t feel this story was about feminism. This is the third time I’ve read this story and I’m still not sure what it’s about. It could be an attack on the high-tech fantasies science fiction writers love to give to the future. I imagine if you’re a science fiction reader who feels like a Slan, then maybe you see there’s nobody home regarding Leslie. But if you’re a critic of science fiction, you might think there’s nobody home with these Eloi-like beings of this future.

James Wallace Harris, 8/23/23

“How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface” by Stanislaw Lem

How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface” by Stanislaw Lem is story #47 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. “How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface,” a 1964 Polish story was first published in English in Mortal Engines in 1971.

I won’t argue that “How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface” is not science fiction, because people are tired of me doing that, but just listen to this audiobook version of the story in Mortal Engines.

I found Lem’s prose charming and dazzling, and “How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface” is a fun fairytale about a cybernetic king who captures a human for his collection of curiosities. Unfortunately, the wily human tricks the king’s daughter into giving him her windup key and forces the king into letting him go. But the human doesn’t keep his part of the bargain to return the key. The princess winds down, and the king announces to his kingdom that anyone who returns the key can marry his daughter.

Hartwell’s introduction makes me wonder why he included this story in his anthology.

My hunch as I read “How Erg the Self-Inducting Slew a Paleface” was Lem holds science fiction in contempt, and his story is poking fun at science fiction readers. Now, that’s not saying this story isn’t impressive. Of course, Lem shows quite a bit of disdain for humanity too. But read this page to see if you agree with me. This could be my own aging cynicism reading into Lem, so you decide.

I liked this story despite it not being the kind of story I wanted to find in this anthology.

James Wallace Harris, 8/22/23

p.s. – I missed reviewing several stories from The World Treasury of Science Fiction because I’ve been having back trouble and can’t sit at the computer for long, and for two weeks we lost our connection to the internet. I might go back and review them in the future.

“Weihnachtabend” by Keith Roberts

If not read carefully, “Weihnachtabend” by Keith Roberts will come across as just another alternate history about Hitler winning WWII. “Weihnachtabend” is more subtle, it’s an alternate history where England and German never fought, but made an alliance, and eventually ruled over Europe together. They called their alliance the Two Empires, graphically symbolizing it with the Lion, and the Eagle.

I have read many books and watched many movies and television shows set in England in the mid-20th century. And one historical event that has come up often is when Neville Chamberlain signed the Munich Agreement in 1938. Roberts imagines what if peace between Germany and England had played out, and, if the English fascists had come to power. In the alternate history timeline of this story the Munich Agreement is The Cologne settlement.

Roberts writes beautifully, painting with impressionistic details rather than flatly telling us what happened.

“Weihnachtabend” by Keith Roberts is story #44 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. “Weihnachtabend” was first published in New Worlds Quarterly 4 (1972) edited by Michael Moorcock. You can read it here. “Weihnachtabend” is also in The Grain Kings, which collects seven of Keith Roberts stories. It’s currently available for $1.99 at Amazon for the Kindle edition.

I highly recommend reading “Weihnachtabend” before reading my essay for two reasons. First, this story is a masterpiece of alternate history and is well-worth reading. Second, it’s a test of reading ability. The story is not hard to read, but instead of just telling what’s happening, Keith Roberts gives us pieces to put a mental jigsaw puzzle together. The story is dense with clues and implications about history and people.

“Weihnachtabend” tested my reading ability, and I didn’t do very well on my first reading. The title means Christmas Eve — I had to look that up. I read the story slowly, trying my best to understand it, but it wasn’t until afterwards that all the subtle aspects were revealed when I read Paul Kincaid’s review. I was further enlightened by Joachim Boaz’s review.

Clarity came with my second reading, and even then, I’m not sure I saw everything Roberts intended. I’m learning in old age that fiction needs two readings before you begin to understand it. It’s a shame that knowledge has come so late in life. No matter how hard I try to become a better reader, and I’ve been trying my whole life, the only thing I keep learning is how bad my reading ability still is and how much more I need to learn.

Keith Roberts’ fiction is a great test for understanding what you read. I’ve read his fix-up novel Pavane and a couple other stories. His prose is dense with layers and depth. Roberts also has a great imagination and creates beautifully visual scenes. If only someone would film his stories.

“Weihnachtabend” opens as Richard Mainwaring and Diane Hunter approach Wilton Great House while riding in a chauffeured Mercedes. Right from the beginning Roberts presents the constant presence of paranoia. Richard notices that the communication channel between the back of the car and the chauffeur is always open, and the chauffeur is listening. Before they get to the country house — I picture it as a manor house of the aristocracy, they come to a wall with watchtowers and pillboxes, and guards with machine guns. The guards speak German.

Richard gives his identity card which says: “Die rechte Hand des Gesandten.” We learn that Richard is the right-hand man of the messenger, and we’re eventually told his title is “Personal Assistant to the British Minister of Liaison.” The identity card also tells the guard Miss Hunter is from his department. (I’ve completely forgotten my high school German, so I had to depend on Google to translate. Knowledge of most of the German phrases in the story aren’t needed to understand the story, but not all.)

Diane is extremely nervous, but then so is Richard. Why is he nervous if he’s a top dog in the ruling political party? Diane is a beautiful blonde who Richard had known long ago. She belongs to someone he knew, a man named James, but for this trip, she is with him.

As the story progresses, we learn we’re in England, but it’s years after the period we know as WWII. England and Germany rule Europe. They fear America. But for some reason, the alliance is dominated by Germany, and the English leadership speak German. There is unrest in England and elsewhere, but the leadership maintains order much like the authoritarian rule in Nineteen Eighty-Four. At the top is King Edward VIII and a Fuehrer named Ziegler (I think. It’s confusing about what happened to Hitler, or who is the Fuehrer. Hess is deputy Fuehrer.) We know it’s decades later because they have large screen televisions, and rollneck shirts. I assume this means a turtleneck which was trendy in the 1960s, and around the time Roberts wrote the story.

Roberts doesn’t have a specific message in this story. He just paints a tableau. Richard, in the end, has something to say to the reader, but what he says, we’ve known all along from our history.

What makes the story compelling to read is figuring out what is happening to Richard. At first, it’s just a Christmas Eve party for extraordinarily rich people. Richard is given a Lamborghini by his boss. There is a description of a brutal hunt, and a bizarre Christmas tradition for children. Richard and Diane have sex, and we feel they are old lovers who are finally going to get together. Then Diane disappears and Richard becomes unhinged, eventually confronting his boss with a Lüger.

As I’ve said, the story has many layers. Like in Philip K. Dick’s novel, The Man in the High Castle, there’s a meaningful-to-the-story book like The Grasshopper Lies Heavy. However, instead of being from another timeline, Toward Humanity is from Richard’s own timeline. The writer’s name is Geissler, and his book is banned. Richard finds this dangerous volume planted in his room. It’s published by the Freedom Front. Richard doesn’t know if his party is testing him or if the opposition is trying to recruit him.

And Richard wonders why he’s so lucky to suddenly acquire a beautiful blonde. Is she who she says she is, or is she a plant from his party to test him, or an agent of the Freedom Front? Blondes are a reward to good party men, easily bought and traded. When Richard’s blonde goes missing everyone wants to pretend, she never existed.

Along the way, we are given clues about this world with quotes from Toward Humanity. Here are three quotes:

The Cologne settlement, though seeming to offer hope of security to Jews already domiciled in Britain, in fact paved the way for campaigns of intimidation and extortion similar to those already undertaken in history, notably by King John. The comparison is not unapt; for the English bourgeoisie, anxious to construct a rationale, discovered many unassailable precedents. A true Sign of the Times, almost certainly, was the resurgence of interest in the novels of Sir Walter Scott. By 1942 the lesson had been learned on both sides; and the Star of David was a common sight on the streets of most British cities.

---

In 1940, her Expeditionary Force shattered, her allies quiescent or defeated, the island truly stood alone. Her proletariat, bedeviled by bad leadership, weakened by a gigantic depression, was effectively without a voice. Her aristocracy, like their Junker counterparts, embraced coldly what could no longer be ignored; while after the Whitehall Putsch the Cabinet was reduced to the status of an Executive Council …

 
---

Against immeasurable force, we must pit cunning; against immeasurable evil, faith and a high resolve. In the war we wage, the stakes are high; the dignity of man, the freedom of the spirit, the survival of humanity. Already in that war, many of us have died; many more, undoubtedly, will lay down their lives. But always, beyond them, there will be others; and still more. We shall go on, as we must go on, till this thing is wiped from the earth. Meanwhile, we must take fresh heart. Every blow, now, is a blow for freedom. In France, Belgium, Finland, Poland, Russia, the forces of the Two Empires confront each other uneasily. Greed, jealousy, mutual distrust; these are the enemies, and they work from within. This, the Empires know full well. And, knowing, for the first time in their existence, fear …

We doubt Richard is persuaded by this political rhetoric. The ending of the story is quite dramatic. The final scene also reminds me of the final message of Nineteen Eighty-Four. I must wonder if Keith Roberts was commenting on the current political climate in England of 1972 when and where he wrote “Weihnachtabend.”

I know in 2023 there is much distrust of government everywhere. Was Robert’s paranoia any different than an average citizen? Who really controls us?

James Wallace Harris, 8/16/23

How Should We Judge Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land in 2023?

I recently watched a devastating “review” of Stranger in a Strange Land on YouTube. (Watch it below.) The short film summarized the plot of the novel, but in a way that made the story ridiculous. When I first watched it, I didn’t think the sarcasm and satire was unfair. I first read Stranger in 1965 when I was thirteen, and I loved it. I’ve reread it many times over the decades, but with each rereading I became more disappointed with the story. So, the criticisms made by Overly Sarcastic Productions resonated with the memories I have of listening to the audiobook version in 2004, and my last reading in 1991. Even though Robert A. Heinlein is still my favorite science fiction writer; I haven’t liked his books published after 1959 for a long time. However, I’m wondering if I shouldn’t reevaluate that dislike.

Today, I started reading A Martian Named Smith by William H. Patterson, Jr., the man who wrote a two-volume biography of Heinlein and who edited The Heinlein Journal. I wouldn’t call Robert A. Heinlein: In Dialogue with His Century an official biography, but it was written with the support of Virginia Heinlein. Patterson makes a great case that Heinlein was trying something quite different with Stranger, and it shouldn’t be judged like traditional science fiction. Patterson considers Stranger to be a classic satire, and that the satire has a different structural form than the novel.

In the 1960s and 1970s, Stranger in a Strange Land might have been the most famous science fiction novel. It was a cult classic on college campuses and embraced by many in the counterculture. I’m not sure Heinlein liked that. It was also embraced by the growing libertarian political movement. The more Heinlein was embraced by the Right, the more readers on the Left moved away from his works. That put me in a bind. I’m liberal. What eventually happened is I focused on his books published before 1960.

But I thought of something today. Stranger in a Strange Land could be considered an early work of New Wave Science Fiction, at least by some of its goals. The New Wave movement wanted science fiction to move away from pulp writing, escape from the old tropes in science fiction, embrace the latest literary standards, experiment in new forms of writing styles, deal with emerging social issues, and be more relevant. Heinlein was obviously doing all that with Stranger in a Strange Land. The New Wave was mostly out of England, and on the left politically. Heinlein made public proclamations that divided the science fiction community between conservative and liberal, so no one considered him New Wave at the time.

Patterson, in A Man Named Smith makes a very intellectually grounded case that Stranger in a Strange Land works on multiple levels, some of which are deep and seldom observed. What if Patterson is right? What if my liberal leanings are prejudicing me from giving the novel a fair chance? To find out I’ll need to reread the book, even both versions, and read Patterson’s book, along with other critical works and studies on the novel. That will be a huge project. That means this blog post will have another ongoing series — and I have too many of those unfinished right now. I’ve been meaning to get back to my Rereading Heinlein project. I expected to reread Stranger in a Strange Land after I read everything Heinlein wrote before it. I’m still stuck in 1940, where I planned to read “The Devil Makes the Law” (renamed “Magic, Inc.”) next.

I also got inspired to reread Stranger in a Strange Land this week when I watched the above video review. Then I read an essay on Book Riot where the writer was proposing to replace eight classic literary novels, four of which are among my favorites. I wrote about this on Auxiliary Memory, where I criticized younger writers for wanting to replace older books they hated, with newer books they loved. I said, if you want to replace a classic, it should be from the same years as the original work and cover the same thematic territory — that classics are how we view the past.

Then I read Joachim Boaz’s review of Davy by Edgar Pangborn. He called it a masterpiece. That led me to finding my copy of Davy and begin reading. It’s quite an impressive novel, but what’s interesting is its overlap with Stranger in a Strange Land. Both are about young males and their education before they become revolutionaries and try to create new social systems. Both these books precede the counterculture of the 1960s by just a few years. At first, I wondered if modern woke readers would accept Davy as a substitute science fiction classic for Stranger in a Strange Land. But if you read my essay linked above, you’ll see that I don’t believe in removing classics from the canon, but adding works that will supplement that.

I believe Stranger in a Strange Land, Davy, and The Man Who Fell to Earth by Walter Tevis make an interesting trilogy of works that reflect the early 1960s in science fiction. To write that will be another huge writing job that will take a lot of researching, reading, and writing. And I unfortunately have dwindling physical and psychic energy.

When I was growing up in the 1950s and 1960s Heinlein was considered the top science fiction author by most readers, even if they didn’t like his books. He was just that successful. He was made the first Grand Master by the SFWA in 1974.

Ever since Stranger in a Strange Land was first published, it was considered controversial, and even polarizing. Since the 1960s, Heinlein’s reputation has been in decline, but that might be relative. So many new writers have had so much success that Heinlein just had much more competition. However, in the 21st century there does seem to be a growing dislike of Heinlein among younger readers.

I love studying how books become popular and how they are slowly forgotten. Is Heinlein and Stranger on their way out? Or is there something to that novel that will keep people reading it for another century? I want to think about that.

Right now, people focus on Heinlein’s flaws. But what about Heinlein’s virtues?

I also want to think about the differences between what makes a literary novel a classic and what makes a science fiction novel a classic. There is an overlap in reasons, but each form has its unique qualities that determine whether they will become a classic novel. I believe literary novels must give significant insight into their story’s physical setting, and both the time in which the story is set, and when it was written.

We judge science fiction stories over their plots and ideas. But what if what makes a classic science fiction novel the same as what makes a classic literary novel? What does Stranger in a Strange Land say about America in 1961, and the decade before when Heinlein was writing it? My guess is it is something like what Pangborn and Tevis were saying. It’s going to take a lot of deep reading for me to find out.

James Wallace Harris, 8/12/23