WHAT WE CAN KNOW by Ian McEwan

You might be wondering if the acclaimed literary writer Ian McEwan, whose most famous novel is Atonement, has become a science fiction writer. His last novel, Machines Like Me, was about a robot. His new novel, What We Can Know, is set in the year 2119. Many reviewers suggest that What We Can Know is about life after climate change. I don’t think it is, nor do I think it’s a science fiction novel. If anything, What We Can Know is a literary mystery, one that I enjoyed reading a great deal.

I think it’s perfectly fine to categorize this novel as science fiction, but many science fiction fans will be disappointed if they read it. Some reviewers call the novel dystopian. That’s bogus, too. Sure, between our times and 2119, there were nuclear wars, and worldwide flooding has left Britain an archipelago of islands. But those are inconsequential to the story.

The plot of What We Can Know is simple. Tom Metcalfe, an academic and writer living in England in 2119, is writing a nonfiction book about a lost poem that was read at a party in 2014. Metcalfe wants to write a whole history of this poem, but he can’t find a copy. He knows a fair amount about “A Corona for Vivien” because of biographical research on all the people at the party. Wikipedia defines a corona as:

A crown of sonnets or sonnet corona is a sequence of sonnets, usually addressed to one person, and/or concerned with a single theme. Each of the sonnets explores one aspect of the theme, and is linked to the preceding and succeeding sonnets by repeating the final line of the preceding sonnet as its first line. The first line of the first sonnet is repeated as the final line of the final sonnet, thereby bringing the sequence to a close.

Hell, I’d love to read such a poem too.

“A Corona for Vivien” has been missing for over one hundred years. Finding it would be a triumph for Tom’s career and make his book a bestseller.

Notice that Tom doesn’t worry about the condition of the world after drastic climate change and nuclear wars. He’s obsessed with Francis Blundy, the poet, and his wife Vivien. Like many literary scholars, he romanticises the time period of his study, the 2010s. For years, Tom has followed every clue he could find about the dinner party where the poem was read and the guests who heard the only known reading of the poem.

What We Can Know reminds me of Possession by A. S. Byatt and The French Lieutenant’s Woman by John Fowles. McEwan’s novel isn’t as complex or as delicious as those two, but it does feel like historiographic metafiction.

One of the fun aspects of this novel is that it’s about people from the future reflecting on our times. Science fiction is usually about reflecting on future people. This gives McIwan a chance to comment on us. Some of that commentary is satire, but with a deft light touch. People in Tom’s time called the changes caused by climate change the derangement. They marvel at our excesses and lack of regard for the future. But on the other hand, there are people like Tom who see us living through glory days.

What We Can Know also reminds me of the recent biography Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath by Heather Clark. I haven’t read it, but my friend Mike has been reading it for weeks and he’s been telling me about it. It’s about a literary circle of egocentric poets. Francis Blundy and his friends are also a famous literary circle of poets and writers with tremendous egos.

I loved listening to What We Can Know. Yes, it did ocassionally thrill my science fiction bent with a few asides, but it mainly entertained because it was about a literary circle. I love reading about The Beats, The Bloomsbury Group, writers of The Lost Generation, The Transcendentalists, the German Romantics, and other literary groups.

Now, if that’s your cup of tea, then get the book. But if you’re a science fiction fan who enjoys a well-imagined future, I think you will be disappointed. This novel isn’t about a post-apocalyptic world but poets and biographers.

James Wallace Harris, 10/30/25

A Science Fiction Research Library on a microSD Card

In the 1960s, we often thought about what life would be like in the 21st century. We’d speculated about fantastic inventions. One that frequently came up was having the Library of Congress in a device we could hold in our hands. In a way, a smartphone is that device. However, we didn’t anticipate networking. We just imagined all the works in the Library of Congress copied onto a small device.

We’re close to having that invention now. It’s not like how we imagined. We don’t think about the future as much today as we did back in the 1960s. Change is happening so fast that every day seems like the future. However, can we speculate what a fantastic invention we might have in another sixty years?

I did something fun the other day, something even science fictional. I put all my scanned science fiction magazines and books on a teeny-tiny 1 TB microSD card and loaded it into my old Amazon Fire 10 HD tablet. That tiny library contains 7,266 magazines and fanzines, as well as 3,570 fiction and nonfiction books. I’ve assembled this collection from the internet. Many items can be found on the Internet Archive or the Luminist Archives. Although some come from DVD-R disc collections I bought on eBay.

The Internet is a gigantically large library itself, but not one that’s always easy to use. When I was young, I worked in libraries. I always loved special collections. Special collections can contain material of any type, but they often house personal libraries donated by famous people. These donated libraries frequently focus on a single subject or type of work that’s been collected over a lifetime. I have a lifetime love for science fiction and science fiction magazines.

My microSD card is a special collection on a tiny chip that, back in the 1960s, we would have considered a marvel of the future. They are not so special today. I keep several in an old orange plastic pill bottle.

For fifteen years, I’ve collected digital copies of books and magazines on Dropbox. I had almost filled my two terabytes of cloud storage when I decided to buy a NAS. NAS stands for network-attached storage. I purchased a Ugreen DXP2800 and two Seagate 12 TB drives, which I mirrored. Now my digital library can expand to six times its previous size.

There is a major problem with leaving the cloud. If something bad happened to my DXP2800, such as the house burning down, my library and years of work would disappear. I have copies on external drives, but I need to find a way to keep regular copies off-site. My first thought was to take an external drive to a friend’s house, but then I remembered the microSD card.

Years ago, I bought a 128 GB card (pictured above) to test with my Amazon Fire 10 HD. That didn’t work out well because the card was too small, and larger capacity cards were too expensive.

Up till now, I have read my digital library with an iPad Mini, accessing my files from Dropbox. It didn’t matter that my old iPad only had 64 GB of storage. Each time I downloaded a magazine, it took about 30 seconds.

When I first considered backing up to a microSD, I checked current prices, and a 1 TB card was $67. That’s when I got the idea to see if I could copy my science fiction library onto a single 1 TB microSD. Copying just science fiction-related magazines, fanzines, and books, I used up just 650 GB.

I loaded that microSD into my Amazon Fire HD 10 and ran CDisplayEX. It saw the files. It even displayed them beautifully. And it was fast. Pulp magazines loaded instantly. Here’s the directory page for Astounding Science-Fiction 1942.

I realized I held in my hands what I had dreamed about sixty years ago. I had the ultimate pulp magazine reading machine. The tablet also allowed me access to thousands of Kindle books and Audible audiobooks. It wasn’t The Library of Congress in my hands, but it was amazing. I could kick back in my La-Z-Boy and browse through decades of magazines. That’s quite cool.

This got me thinking. How can I best use this resource? How can I integrate it into my work routines? Normally, as I create posts for this blog, I read and think in my La-Z-Boy, but I get up and write at my computer.

Being the lazy person that I am, I’ve long wanted to write anywhere and at any time. I spend a lot of time with my eyes closed, thinking. I compose essays in my head, but they are vaguely formed. After a point, the pressure of keeping all those ideas in my head gets too great, and I have to jump up and start writing.

I’ve always wanted to read, think, and write simultaneously. I’m now wondering if I can combine my new reading machine with a note-taking app and a word processor? Combining CDisplayEX with Obsidian and Jetpack goes a long way towards that idea. It occurs to me there’s more needed.

A large library isn’t useful without a card catalog. Before computers, this was called a card catalog because it was contained in drawers of index cards. However, special collections usually had their own index. Most people use Google and the Internet as their card catalog, but it is becoming more problematic every day.

I depend on two indexes to explore science fiction: Wikipedia and ISFDB.org. For example, here is the ISFDB.org page that indexes the history of the magazine Astounding/Analog. Here is the Wikipedia entry that describes the history of that magazine. And although ISFDB.org will eventually link you to the Internet Archive to read a particular issue, it would be cool if it linked to my copy of the magazine. It is possible to download copies of Wikipedia and ISFDB.org, but it’s not practical to integrate them into my tablet library of science fiction.

Certain things should stay in the cloud. Realistically, that should include the magazines and books. What we didn’t imagine back in the 1960s was a better version of The Library of Congress. Why should everyone own a NAS and build their own special collection?

The only advantage I have for messing with this tablet is speed. If my access to everything on the Internet were instant, would I need any storage at all? No, I wouldn’t. Currently, Internet speeds are fast, but not quite speedy enough. The real speed bump is how everything is organized. It’s finding what you want that’s really slow.

Here’s where AI comes in. I’ve discovered it’s quicker to ask CoPilot to find something than to ask Google. Unfortunately, when CoPilot can’t find what I want, it makes shit up.

You might be wondering by now where this essay is going. At first, I only wanted to describe the delight I found in my science fiction library on a tablet. But along the way, I began to imagine other science-fictional possibilities of taking the idea further.

Writing this essay has made me realize that what I really want to build is an annotated science fiction library. My blog is a disjointed attempt to write an annotated history of science fiction.

Here is my speculation for an awe-inspiring future device. Instead of having a Library of Congress we can hold in our hands, I’d like a handheld device that saves a copy of every artwork that inspires me, with a lifetime of my annotated thoughts about them. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Shakespeare had such a gadget? I wish my parents had left me such memory cubes.

James Wallace Harris, 10/25/25

THE DRAGON IN THE SEA by Frank Herbert

I’m not sure I can recommend The Dragon in the Sea by Frank Herbert, even though I enjoyed reading it. If Herbert had not become famous for Dune, I’m not sure it would be in print today. The story, written in the early days of the Cold War, portrays a future where the United States steals oil from the Soviets using submarine tugboats. Most of the novel takes place in one of these four-man subtugs. The plot feels more like an early political techno thriller than science fiction. It’s the kind of adventure story aimed at male readers that was usually published in men’s magazines in the 1950s. Those old nudie mags ran a lot of fiction.

The Dragon in the Sea is terribly dated on several levels. That’s ignoring the silliness of a submarine towing a giant plastic bag that holds millions of gallons of crude oil. However, the characterization was intriguing. The primary point-of-view character, John Ramsey, is an undercover psychologist studying the captain, who also knows there’s a Soviet sleeper agent aboard. Because the crew suspects the psychologist is the spy, the story is driven by paranoia.

I read The Dragon in the Sea because of a review at Science Fiction and Fantasy Remembrance (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3). Herbert’s novel was titled Under Pressure when it ran as a serial in Astounding Science Fiction (November & December 1955, January 1956). I didn’t want to read another science fiction novel at the time because I had several nonfiction books I was anxious to read. But Brian Collins’ review intrigued me. Collins is one of several bloggers who review old science fiction. His focus is on reviewing stories from science fiction magazines, something I also do. We’re part of an extremely tiny subculture that remembers a rather obscure art form.

The way Collins described the conflict between the four men in the submarine made me think of Rogue Moon by Algis Budrys. Rogue Moon is a compelling read because of the tense conflict between two ego-driven men. However, Rogue Moon is solid science fiction, dramatizing the bizarre consequences of using a matter transmitter to explore an alien artifact that killed every living thing that entered it. In other words, Rogue Moon had more than just the battle of alpha males; it had some heavy-duty sci-fi.

I can feel y’all asking, “Why are you even reviewing this book? You’re damning it with faint praise.” Well, that brings me to the theme of this essay. Why do we choose the science fiction books we read?

Most people buy The Dragon in the Sea because they loved Dune and want to see what else Frank Herbert wrote. That’s one of my main reasons. The Dragon in the Sea is Herbert’s first published novel, so it’s an interesting place to start. Dune was the breakthrough SF novel in the 1960s. How did Herbert get there? I liked The Dragon in the Sea well enough that I now want to read one of Herbert’s novels that he wrote after Dune.

I’m also the kind of science fiction reader who prefers older science fiction, even if it’s dated. It’s not that I dislike current science fiction. I just enjoy the science fiction I grew up with more. Especially, from the era when science fiction books were under 300 pages. I don’t like trilogies and series, or giant novels. I love a standalone story that paints a great science-fictional idea quickly. I read this sentiment fairly frequently online.

I have two other reasons for reading old forgotten science fiction that are less commonly expressed. I love reading old science fiction because I enjoy exploring the history of science fiction. And I love searching for old science fiction I missed in my youth, that might turn out to be a forgotten gem.

The Dragon in the Sea is no lost masterpiece. Brian Collins said he’s never seen a Frank Herbert novel for sale that wasn’t part of the Dune series. I have seen many over the decades, but have never tried reading one before. I’ve read Dune twice but not the sequels. It’s hard to imagine the man who wrote The Dragon in the Sea writing Dune. I will say that Herbert has a flair for drama and dialogue that was uncommon in science fiction in the 1950s. His first novel showed no talent for the kind of sense of wonder that made science fiction famous. To have an overabundance of that talent ten years later is amazing.

Interestingly, Herbert makes religion an essential aspect of his first novel. Religion made Dune epic. Herbert portrays Captain Sparrow in The Dragon in the Sea somewhat like Captain Ahab. The plot has the crew facing death time and again. They must kill or be killed. Captain Sparrow sees God as guiding and protecting them. The other two crewmen, Bonnett and Garcia, have become true believers because Captain Sparrow has always brought them home. Ramsey has a religious upbringing, but is not a believer. Yet, even though he’s a psychologist, Sparrow starts to get to him.

The story kept me reading because of the conflict between the characters and how Ramsey slowly became one with the crew. You end up liking all the men, even when they do unlikable things.

The men are under tremendous pressure. The previous twenty missions have failed. They expect to die unless they can uncover the secrets of the sleeper agent. But how can there be a spy among the three men who have worked together for years and are so dedicated to each other? They all profess to love their wives, but in reality, they love their job, their ship, their captain, and each other.

Now that I’m writing this, I realize how much more I liked this novel. It has many flaws, but I still found it entertaining to read. So did Brian Collins. Like Collins, I struggle to write reviews. He writes about his struggle in a post published after reviewing part 1 and before part 2, Under Pressure. (Remember, the links to all three parts of his review are above.) Collins does a much better job than I of describing the story.

It takes a lot of mental work to pinpoint why you like or dislike something. It’s easy to say, “I hate this” or “I love this,” but those statements are meaningless. You have to say why, and that’s hard, especially when you have to cite the context.

I could list a hundred novels and say, “If you haven’t read these yet, don’t waste your time on The Dragon and the Sea.” It’s not that good. But if you’re an old, jaded science fiction fan and are looking for something that might feel like good old-timey SF, then The Dragon and the Sea might be worth giving a try.

Checking our database, The Dragon in the Sea received five citations, the second most of Herbert’s novels. The citations were from:

James Wallace Harris, 10/6/25

1948: SPACE CADET by Robert A. Heinlein

We often judge old science fiction books by what writers got right about the future. It is equally valuable to understand what they got wrong. In an experiment, disproving a hypothesis is still informative. Robert A. Heinlein was famous in the 1940s for writing a series of science fiction stories he labeled Future History. Heinlein also wrote fourteen young adult novels from 1947 to 1963 that can also be considered another Future History.

I’ve read thousands of science fiction novels and short stories over the past sixty-plus years. I no longer enjoy reading science fiction in the same way I did when I was young. That was when I could forget that I was a reader and immerse myself in the story. Now, when I read science fiction, I’m constantly thinking: What is the writer trying to create, how are they doing it, and why? When I read old science fiction, I think about the year it was written and what the author used as grounds for speculation.

I believe that at one time, Robert A. Heinlein was as brilliant in his speculations as H. G. Wells in his heyday. Space Cadet was written during a particularly stressful time in Heinlein’s life. He had left his second wife, Leslyn, whom he had married in 1932. I do not have the space here to describe how remarkable Leslyn was as a woman in the 1930s. Leslyn had a master’s in philosophy, was politically liberal, and sexually adventurous. Robert and Leslyn had a remarkable fifteen-year relationship, with an enviable social life among highly creative people in Los Angeles. Robert had left Leslyn, waiting for the divorce to allow him to marry his third wife, Virginia (“Ginny”) Gerstenfeld. She became his muse and companion for the rest of his life. (See Robert A. Heinlein: Volume I: Learning Curve, 1907–1948 by William H. Patterson.)

Space Cadet follows four boys, Matt, Tex, Oscar, and Pierre, through a series of episodic adventures as they train in the Interplanetary Patrol. Heinlein was a graduate of the United States Naval Academy and modeled Space Cadet on his training at Annapolis. The story begins on Earth, then moves to a military school in Earth’s orbit. (The boys take leave on a giant space habitat.) Next, the boys are assigned to a rocket searching for a lost exploration vessel in the asteroids. Finally, end up on a rescue mission on Venus. For the most part, the story is a page turner. Each episode combines personal conflicts and learning experiences. Heinlein promotes education, especially in math. Heinlein provides a certain amount of infodumps about space navigation, orbital mechanics, rocket science, space suits, weightlessness, space sickness, and other realistic details involved in exploring space that were usually ignored in science fiction before Heinlein.

The Heinlein juveniles took space exploration seriously, at least by what was known at the time. This was especially true in the early books of the series. However, each book went further away from Earth. Eventually, the series went well beyond anything scientific to explain the methods of transportation used in them. I’ve often felt that Heinlein was focused on the details of realistic space exploration during the late 1940s and early 1950s, but after Sputnik and NASA, Heinlein shifted to making his novels about politics and society. Those later novels might be set in space, but Heinlein no longer concerned himself with the details of rocket science.

Although Heinlein was experiencing the success of his first book being published in 1947, a string of sales to slick magazines, and Hollywood types contacting him about making a movie, he was living in poverty in a tiny trailer. He desperately needed money. Heinlein left California and everyone he knew to hide out in Fort Worth, Texas. He was living in sin with Ginny, his future third wife. They had to keep their relationship secret until the divorce went through with Leslyn. Heinlein felt guilty for abandoning Leslyn, but she had become an uncontrollable alcoholic. Heinlein had met Ginny in Philadelphia while working as a civilian for the war effort. Ginny was a biochemical engineer with math skills who worked well with Heinlein on planning the science in his science fiction. The two of them spent their days in Fort Worth working out the math for the orbital mechanics in Space Cadet. Heinlein’s future depended on this second book for Scribner’s, but he had a difficult time writing it. He claimed that Ginny offered many suggestions that he initially rejected but ultimately used to finish the novel.

In 1948, Heinlein didn’t know his 1947 novel, Rocket Ship Galileo, would be the basis for Destination Moon, the first major science fiction film of the 1950s, and Space Cadet would be connected to Tom Corbett, Space Cadet, a 1950 TV show that influenced later science fiction television. Heinlein had been the star of John W. Campbell’s Astounding Science Fiction in the 1940s. Nor did he have any inclination that his twelve young adult novels for Charles Scribner’s Sons would have such a major impact on readers in the 1950s. In 1947 and 1948, Heinlein was at a low point in his career. He had no idea how big a success his writing would become, or how Ginny would become the love of his life. They believed in a fantastic future of space travel, but they were so poor that they had to sell their belongings to survive.

Heinlein dominated science fiction in the 1950s, like H. G. Wells did in the 1890s. When I reread Heinlein, it’s to see how he changed the course of science fiction. When I was young, I felt Heinlein would one day be considered the Mark Twain of science fiction by the time I got old. That hasn’t happened.

Robert Heinlein’s reputation as a science fiction writer has dropped dramatically over my lifetime. When I was growing up, if two SF fans met, both assumed each other’s favorite author was Heinlein, and they’d argue over who was the next best science fiction writer. Today, many modern readers shun Heinlein, usually for what they believe are Heinlein’s personal views, or because they’ve read one of Heinlein’s later works, and assume all of his books are just as bad. Personally, I dislike all of Heinlein’s books published after The Past Through Tomorrow (1967). I have significant problems with anything he wrote after Starship Troopers (1959) and before he published The Past Through Tomorrow.

Science fiction becomes dated after a few decades, which is the main reason why Heinlein’s fiction is falling out of favor. Only three SF novels from the 19th century are commonly read today: Frankenstein, The Time Machine, and The War of the Worlds. Eventually, I believe fewer than a dozen science fiction novels from the 20th century will be widely read in the 22nd century.

Heinlein will continue to be read until his original fans all die. Then, readers yet to be born will decide if any of his books will be worth reading after that. I’m rereading Heinlein’s books, speculating if they will survive in the future. I started with Heinlein’s first published novel, Rocket Ship Galileo (1947), an essay I already need to revise.

Rereading his second Scribner’s novel, Space Cadet from 1948, it’s easy to dismiss it as a young adult novel for boys. But when you examine it in comparison to science fiction published up until 1948, and consider the philosophical issues it deals with, it’s a standout SF novel.

In judging Heinlein’s long-term prospects, I’ve decided to use H. G. Wells, Aldous Huxley, George Orwell, and George R. Stewart as models, specifically for The Time Machine, The War of the Worlds, Brave New World, Nineteen Eighty-Four, and Earth Abides. Heinlein wanted Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land, and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress to be the three books by which he would be remembered. Heinlein felt those novels were his most mature works, and which best expressed his views. They are the ones that are still found in bookstores. They are also the Heinlein novels modern readers often dislike.

Heinlein might be right, and those books will be his literary legacy. Heinlein has twenty-nine other books published in his lifetime to consider. I plan to reread nineteen of them as possible works that might be remembered instead. So far, I’ve reread three, and my memory of the others suggests that Heinlein does not have a novel equal to my five models. In terms of ambition and complexity, only Heinlein’s favorite three come close to the five models I’ve chosen in ambition. However, I’m not sure if Heinlein’s philosophical intent in those works will be well-regarded in the future.

I believe there’s another way Heinlein might be remembered. Heinlein will often be discussed in books about science fiction. Heinlein is a significant figure in the evolution of science fiction. For example, in a taxonomy tree showing the evolution of the genre, Starship Troopers will be the main branch for Military SF. Rocket Ship Galileo is situated on a major branch of fiction about the first trip to the Moon. And Space Cadet is a major contribution to exploring the solar system.

In the 21st century, Heinlein is often ignored. Many readers have the prejudice that Heinlein is an unlikable conservative; some even think he’s a fascist and misogynist. But Space Cadet expresses extremely liberal views.

If you read Space Cadet today, it will feel like a simple story for young people that’s quite dated. Readers need to understand events in 1948 to appreciate the novel. Heinlein imagines a need for a world government and an agency to control nuclear weapons. Russia didn’t have the atomic bomb until 1949, but Heinlein was worried about the day when multiple countries had weapons of mass destruction. Throughout the 1940s, Heinlein wrote stories that speculated about how we’d apply atomic energy in peacetime and control nuclear weapons to prevent wars. That’s a heavy topic for fiction found in elementary school libraries.

Heinlein was also concerned with the human race destroying itself. Heinlein believed only one international agency should control nuclear weapons. And if any country violated their policies, their ability to create a nuclear bomb would be targeted with nukes. In an early draft of Space Cadet, Heinlein had Matt, his young protagonist, nuking his hometown. Wisely, Heinlein decided that was too much for a young adult novel and reduced the idea to a bull session between cadets.

To emphasize the importance of this idea, he has the cadets discover evidence that the asteroids are the remains of a planet that blew itself up in an atomic war.

The Interplanetary Patrol is racially integrated. Heinlein makes a point that black males are cadets and officers. The U.S. military integrated in 1948. Heinlein takes this further by emphasizing that intelligent beings on Venus and Mars are equally human, even if they don’t look human. However, human females don’t have equal rights in this story. But Heinlein quickly liberates women in later books in this series. However, even in Space Cadet, the Venusians are a matriarchal society.

Ideas about a space based military from Space Cadet will show up again in Starship Troopers. The novel also has an orbital battle school that prefigures Ender’s Game. And the Interplanetary Patrol will influence several TV shows in the 1950s, which will eventually lead to Star Trek. Of course, Heinlein was inspired by E. E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman series.

Throughout the novel, Heinlein tosses out ideas that will become part of reality. At the beginning of the story, Matt uses a pocket phone that depends on cell towers. He gets to orbit via a reusable rocket. They are stationed at a geosynchronous orbit. But Heinlein also missed on things, too. In 1948, Heinlein didn’t foresee the impact that computers, networks, and robots would have on our world.

Space Cadet is set in 2075. Heinlein assumes that by then, humanity will have traveled the solar system and settled colonies on the Moon, Venus, Mars, and Ganymede. Heinlein also thought we’d find intelligent life on Venus and Mars, and it once existed on the planet that blew up and became the asteroids. All of Heinlein’s young adult novels have overlapping futures with similar details. That’s why I say they represent another Future History.

Many science fiction writers before 1950, including Ray Bradbury, hoped we’d find Martians and Venusians. I call that kind of thinking pre-NASA science fiction. In the 1960s, when NASA’s probes discovered that those planets were lifeless, I was tremendously disappointed. I still love pre-NASA science fiction. But I have to wonder if younger generations have completely dismissed such stories because of what science has discovered? I must point out that they accept Star Trek and Star Wars. We know those popular series are just as unscientific as pre-NASA science fiction, but they haven’t been rejected. Why?

I doubt many readers will read Heinlein because of his historical value to the genre. Few readers today read E. E. “Doc” Smith, and his series were once beloved. At 73, I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t give up on Heinlein, too. However, rereading books by Heinlein and Philip K. Dick provides far more enjoyment than reading new science fiction. I both love that and regret it. It reminds me of all my old boomer friends who won’t listen to any music created after 1975. I don’t want to be stuck in pop culture nostalgia, but obviously, I am.

I once read science fiction to think about the future.

I now read science fiction to think about the past.

James Wallace Harris, 9/31/25

1947: ROCKET SHIP GALILEO by Robert A. Heinlein

In The Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell claims that successful people often grew up with mentors. I never had one. Looking back, I could have used Robert A. Heinlein as my mentor, because his books for young people gave a great deal of advice. Unfortunately, I ignored his wisdom.

I’ve always been embarrassed to recommend Rocket Ship Galileo to science fiction fans because it’s so dated, unrealistic, and naive. Yet, I’ve enjoyed reading it several times over my lifetime. This 1947 novel for kids sets the stage for much of science fiction to come. Rocket Ship Galileo was Robert A. Heinlein’s first published novel. It was written in 1946, just a year after the war, and published by Charles Scribner’s Sons. That was quite a coup for Heinlein, since science fiction was just starting to be published by fan presses, and his first book was coming from the same publisher as Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Thomas Wolfe.

Heinlein’s writing is several steps up from most science fiction being written in 1947, but Rocket Ship Galileo is not much more than an updated Tom Swift novel. The story is set in the late 1950s, when Heinlein speculates that commercial rockets have been established for transporting freight and passengers. Military jets were being tested in 1947, but there were no commercial jets, so Heinlein expected rocket technology to be the winning technology.

Heinlein based his speculation on Werner von Braun’s rockets and our use of atomic bombs in 1945. However, I thought Heinlein was overly naive and incredibly unrealistic to suggest that three high school students and one Manhattan Project scientist could retrofit a commercial chemical rocket with an atomic drive and fly to the Moon. That’s why I find the book embarrassing to recommend to modern readers. Even more embarrassing are the Nazis found hiding on the Moon.

I first read Rocket Ship Galileo in 1964. This was just before the Project Gemini manned missions in 1965. It was obvious that three teenagers and an adult could never build a rocket in one summer capable of traveling to the Moon. I was in the 8th grade. That kind of belief was common in the Tom Swift and Tom Swift, Jr. books I read in the 5th grade. I should have been savvy enough in 1964, at age 13, to quit reading Rocket Ship Galileo after a few pages. Why didn’t I? And why have I read it another four times since then?

In the fall of 1964, I loved the new TV show Gilligan’s Island, but whenever I watch an episode of it today, I wonder if my brain was damaged as a teenager. Why wasn’t I more discerning about what I read and watched? However, I was a dumbass kid of twelve and thirteen when I first read Heinlein’s fourteen novels for young adults. (I’m adding in Starship Troopers and Podkayne of Mars to the twelve from Charles Scribner’s Sons.)

This is going to sound weird. I now consider embracing science fiction as a kid was psychologically similar to becoming religious. Accepting fantastic science fiction beliefs gave me the same comforts as accepting Jesus. I just wanted to travel to the heavens before I died.

Now Heinlein wasn’t trying to be irrational or promote silly ideas. Rocket Ship Galileo is full of scientific digressions, also called info dumps. I felt Heinlein was speculating as scientifically as possible with what people knew in 1947. He uses his own ideas about the possibilities of applied atomic power. But he doesn’t think things through. Heinlein understood that radioactivity could superheat fuel and create a more powerful exhaust than chemical combustion. However, to suggest liquid zinc or mercury as a rocket fuel is insane. Did they have no concept of pollution back in 1947?

Heinlein also understood that computers would be used to navigate to the Moon. He references ENIAC, built in 1945, the first general-purpose digital computer.

Because of rockets, computers, and atomic bombs in 1945, the guiding philosophy of science fiction became, if we can do this now, why can’t we do something like it in the future? Heinlein was leading the charge for science fiction to speculate and extrapolate. The twelve Heinlein juveniles, published from 1947 until 1958, became my gospels and epistles to a religion founded on science fiction. Heinlein became my guru, my substitute father, yet I missed all his advice that could have been considered mentoring.

All the Heinlein juveniles advocated studying science and mathematics, especially math. I read these books in the mid-1960s, believing I’d grow up and travel into space in the 1970s and 1980s. But I didn’t follow Heinlein’s guidance. In the 1920s, Heinlein had worked hard at school, making his way through the Naval Academy at Annapolis. Heinlein repeatedly emphasized studying.

Most Christians want easy Christianity. All they want to do to get to heaven and have everlasting life is to say, “I believe.” I was no better in my approach to science fiction. I have read several accounts from rocket scientists who claimed Heinlein inspired them to become who they were. There are millions like me, who aren’t rocket scientists, who also read Heinlein.

I’ve criticized some science fiction stories for using comic book science. You know the kind, exposure to Z-rays leads to superpowers. In the early years of science fiction, the public considered it moronic trash. And kids who loved it justified reading science fiction to their parents, claiming they learned science from science fiction. The frequency of science lecture infodumps in the Heinlein juveniles is high. They were respected by librarians and teachers. Ultimately, their appeal was adventure. They were crack for geeks. They preached that humanity’s manifest destiny was exploring space. Each book took readers further away from Earth. (Chart provided by CoPilot.)

YearTitlePrimary SettingScope of Exploration
1947Rocket Ship GalileoEarth ↔ MoonFirst lunar mission; atomic propulsion
1948Space CadetEarth ↔ Solar SystemVenus and outer planets via military service
1949Red PlanetMarsColonial life and rebellion
1950Farmer in the SkyGanymede (Jupiter moon)Terraforming & settlement life
1951Between PlanetsEarth ↔ VenusInterplanetary conflict and diplomacy
1952The Rolling StonesEarth ↔ Mars ↔ Jupiter systemFreewheeling space travel by a family
1953Starman JonesEarth ↔ Deep SpaceGalactic navigation and far-flung trade routes
1954The Star BeastEarth ↔ Galactic CivilizationsAlien ambassador pet and interstellar law
1955Tunnel in the SkyUnknown planetSurvival and societal formation via teleportation
1956Time for the StarsEarth ↔ Deep SpaceRelativistic travel and twin-linked telepathy
1957Citizen of the GalaxyVarious worlds in Galactic EmpireSlavery, social caste, and galactic society
1958Have Space Suit—Will TravelEarth ↔ Pluto ↔ Intergalactic TribunalKidnap into deep space; galactic ethics debate

While rereading Rocket Ship Galileo this time, I noticed many of Heinlein’s lifelong pet ideas, which Heinlein elaborated on in his adult science fiction in the 1960s. Heinlein wanted to be a philosopher and teacher. The Heinlein philosophy is gentle in these books for young people. One of my pet theories is that Heinlein was influenced by Ayn Rand in her 1957 novel, Atlas Shrugged. After that, he switched to writing novels for adults, and the Heinlein philosophy became more pronounced.

Heinlein’s core philosophy in the twelve juveniles is that space exploration is humanity’s manifest destiny. In Rocket Ship Galileo, the first of the twelve, is about going to the Moon. In Have Space Suit-Will Travel, the twelfth and last, it’s about travel across the galaxy. Each new book goes further out into space, expanding on Heinlein’s pet ideas. Strangely, after the juveniles, Heinlein turns to politics in his adult science fiction novels. Space travel is part of these stories, but it’s no longer being promoted. It’s just accepted.

I first read the twelve Heinlein juveniles just after Project Mercury and just before Project Gemini. I had followed all the manned flights of Project Mercury. Was I a space enthusiast because of NASA or Heinlein? When Heinlein began his series for boys in 1946, few people thought about actual space travel. Science fiction was considered that Buck Rogers stuff, and if you’ve seen any of the Buck Rogers serials, you know that’s a put down.

Heinlein does contribute to a long line of books speculating about the first mission to the Moon. Verne imagined a giant gun. Wells imagined anti-gravity. Heinlein imagined rockets evolving from V-2s. Heinlein just didn’t imagine how difficult the task would be to send a human to the Moon but had anyone else. I asked CoPilot and got this answer:

EraTitle & AuthorMode of TravelNotable Themes
2nd century CETrue History by Lucian of SamosataWhirlwindSatire of fantastical travel tales
1634Somnium by Johannes KeplerLunar demons during eclipsesEarly scientific speculation; heliocentrism
1638The Man in the Moone by Francis GodwinMigrating swansUtopian society; weightlessness
1657States and Empires of the Moon by Cyrano de BergeracFireworks & dew bottlesSatirical science; proto-rocketry
1705The Consolidator by Daniel DefoeWinged chariotPolitical satire; lunar governance
1835The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall by Edgar Allan PoeBalloonComic realism; early space travel logic
1865From the Earth to the Moon by Jules VerneSpace cannonTechnological optimism; post-Civil War science
1901The First Men in the Moon by H.G. WellsAntigravity material (Cavorite)Alien civilizations; imperialism
1926The Moon Maid by Edgar Rice BurroughsSpaceshipHollow Moon; hidden civilizations
1947Rocket Ship Galileo by Robert A. HeinleinAtomic rocketYouthful ingenuity; Cold War anxieties
1950The Man Who Sold the Moon by Robert A. HeinleinCorporate-funded rocketCapitalism and space exploration
1956Mission to the Moon by Lester del ReyRocketRealistic Moon landing prep
1977Inherit the Stars by James P. HoganArchaeological discoveryHuman origins; Moon as historical site

Rocket Ship Galileo will probably not appeal to modern science fiction readers. But for science fiction fans who study the evolution of the genre, is it worth reading? I was surprised by how many things I had forgotten about the novel. All I remembered was the Nazis on the Moon. I had forgotten all the details about creating an atomic rocket engine based on nuclear thermal propulsion, ballistics, space navigation, space suits, autopilots, airlocks, weightlessness, space sickness, computers, radio communication, and more.

After Apollo 11, reading books about the first landing on the Moon is problematic. However, Mary Robinette Kowal’s Lady Astronaut Universe series and Apple TV’s series For All Mankind have succeeded uniquely by creating retro histories. Because I grew up reading pre-NASA science fiction, I can still enjoy stories that are obviously dated because of nostalgia. I also love reading old science fiction because I love studying how the genre evolved.

But is Rocket Ship Galileo really worth reading five times over sixty-plus years? I imprinted on the Heinlein juveniles like baby ducks imprint on their mother. I loved these books so much that I ordered all twelve in hardback directly from Charles Scribner’s Sons with my first paycheck at age sixteen in 1967. I still have them.

At 73, I’m trying to understand how my personality was created. There are the genes I inherited from my parents. And my upbringing and education. I also believe a great deal of who I am came from pop culture – books, movies, TV shows, and music. One of the biggest factors was science fiction. When I reread old favorite books from childhood, I look for clues about how my personality formed.

I’m forced to ask myself: Did I really believe I would go into space someday? I thought I did, but was it a realistic belief? Do kids really believe they will grow up to be football players, or rock stars, or astronauts?

Here’s the thing. If I truly paid attention to Heinlein’s books, I should have modeled myself after his characters. I didn’t. I half-ass did. I read easy popular science books. I built Estes model rockets. I even tried to grind my own telescope mirror but failed. However, I mostly read science fiction. The Heinlein characters didn’t read science fiction.

Today, we have the Maker Culture. That’s what Heinlein was really promoting. Heinlein wanted his readers to become junior scientists. Reading his books made me fantasize about doing that. Instead, I just read more science fiction.

I’ve often pondered how many science fiction books anyone should read. Taking psychedelics back in the 1960s opened the doors of perception. Science fiction was like that. But like people asked back in the 1960s, how many times do you need to go through the doors of perception?

In retrospect, I feel I read too much science fiction and didn’t do enough of other things. I’ve often wondered what my life would have been like if I had stopped with Have Space Suit-Will Travel and gotten busy doing things. Rereading Rocket Ship Galileo reminds me of what I wanted to be as a kid, but reveals I took the wrong path.

James Wallace Harris, 8/5/25

SCIENCE FICTION: THE 100 BEST NOVELS by David Pringle

I’ve been reading science fiction for sixty-three years, and it’s getting difficult to find anything that feels new and different. However, my problem is more than just being old and jaded. I’ve discovered that I missed or ignored many kinds of science fiction books that didn’t appeal to me for one reason or another. Late in life, I’ve discovered that I need to read science fiction outside my comfort zone.

I recently took another look at David Pringle’s Science Fiction: The 100 Best Novels. Pringle, a Scottish critic and editor, selected one hundred science fiction novels published from 1949 until 1984 to recommend. I knew his list was a good one because I had already read over sixty of the books on it. I figured the ones I haven’t read should be equally good. I’ve read and reviewed two so far: The Inheritors by William Golding and The Inverted World by Christopher Priest.

Both of those novels were outstanding, but more importantly, they were different, with stories and writing techniques lying outside my usual tastes. I’ve now started No Enemy but Time by Michael Bishop. It’s proving to be equally good and different.

I’m buddy reading these books with my old friend Mike. Having someone to discuss books with is important. So is reading slowly and taking notes. I’ve decided to read or reread all the books on Pringle’s list.

This project is also a way to reevaluate a lifetime of science fiction reading. I plan to review each title when I finish that book.

The list below of Pringle’s recommended SF novels was copied from Wikipedia. However, Pringle’s book is $1.99 on Amazon (Kindle edition), and the essays recommending each novel are well worth reading.

Most of these books are still in print, but not always. Some are in very cheap eBook editions. I wish all were available as audiobooks, but they are not. I consider that a kind of criticism. Any true classic should be in print as a hardback, paperback, eBook, and audiobook.

The title and author link take you back to Wikipedia for those entries. If I give a date, it’s the last date I read the book. If I put a number in parentheses, it’s the number of times I remember reading the book. If I don’t provide a date but include a number, it’s because I read it before 1983, when I started keeping my reading log. The Buy link will direct you to the least expensive edition on Amazon. It will also allow you to view the availability of different editions. Bolded titles are unread titles I hope to read before I start rereading the others.

By reading Pringle’s essay, the Wikipedia entry, and the content and comments on the Amazon page, it’s possible to judge how these books are remembered since Pringle created his list in 1985, and to decide if they are worth buying and reading. Many of these books are still discussed by book reviewers on YouTube. But many others are forgotten.

  1. Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell (1949) – 12/31/13 (2) – Buy
  2. Earth Abides by George R. Stewart (1949) – 4/12/10 (3) – Buy
  3. The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury (1950) – 1/9/15 (3) – Buy
  4. The Puppet Masters by Robert A. Heinlein (1951) – 9/2/93) (3) – Buy
  5. The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham (1951) – 6/3/12 – Buy
  6. Limbo by Bernard Wolfe (1952) – Buy
  7. The Demolished Man by Alfred Bester (1953) – 2/8/18 (2) – Buy
  8. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (1953) – 10/30/05 (2) – Buy
  9. Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke (1953) – 12/23/08 (3) – Buy
  10. The Paradox Men by Charles L. Harness (1953) – Buy
  11. Bring the Jubilee by Ward Moore (1953) – (1) – Buy
  12. The Space Merchants by Frederik Pohl and C. M. Kornbluth (1953) – 11/26/08 (2) – Buy
  13. Ring Around the Sun by Clifford D. Simak (1953) – Buy
  14. More Than Human by Theodore Sturgeon (1953) – 3/13/09 (2) – Buy
  15. Mission of Gravity by Hal Clement (1954) – 12/24/15 (1) – Buy
  16. A Mirror for Observers by Edgar Pangborn (1954) – 11/24/24 (2) – Buy
  17. The End of Eternity by Isaac Asimov (1955) – Buy
  18. The Long Tomorrow by Leigh Brackett (1955) – 10/7/13 (1) – Buy
  19. The Inheritors by William Golding (1955) – 7/7/25 (1) – Buy
  20. The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester (1956) – (1) – Buy
  21. The Death of Grass by John Christopher (1956) – 3/10/20 (1) – Buy
  22. The City and the Stars by Arthur C. Clarke (1956) – (1) – Buy
  23. The Door into Summer by Robert A. Heinlein (1957) – 8/1/06 (5) – Buy
  24. The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham (1957) – (1) – Buy
  25. Non-Stop by Brian Aldiss (1958) – 2/21/15 (1) – Buy
  26. A Case of Conscience by James Blish (1958) – 12/15/08 (2) – Buy
  27. Have Space Suit—Will Travel by Robert A. Heinlein (1958) – 4/30/17 (7) – Buy
  28. Time Out of Joint by Philip K. Dick (1959) – 2/2/24 (2) – Buy
  29. Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank (1959) – 8/21/11 (1) – Buy
  30. A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. (1959) – 9/8/11 (1) – Buy
  31. The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1959) – 5/7/9 (1) – Buy
  32. Rogue Moon by Algis Budrys (1960) – (2) – Buy
  33. Venus Plus X by Theodore Sturgeon (1960) – Buy
  34. Hothouse by Brian Aldiss (1962) – 11/9/24 (2) – Buy
  35. The Drowned World by J. G. Ballard (1962) – 12/4/16 (1) – Buy
  36. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess (1962) – (1) – Buy
  37. The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick (1962) – 12/27/15 (3) – Buy
  38. Journey Beyond Tomorrow by Robert Sheckley (1962) – Buy
  39. Way Station by Clifford D. Simak (1963) – 10/7/08 (2) – Buy
  40. Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1963) – Buy
  41. Greybeard by Brian Aldiss (1964) – 10/25/24 (1) – Buy
  42. Nova Express by William S. Burroughs (1964) – Buy
  43. Martian Time-Slip by Philip K. Dick (1964) – 2/11/10 (3) – Buy
  44. The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch by Philip K. Dick (1965) – 10/24/08 (2) – Buy
  45. The Wanderer by Fritz Leiber (1965) – Buy
  46. Norstrilia by Cordwainer Smith (1965) – Buy
  47. Dr. Bloodmoney by Philip K. Dick (1965) – 2/14/22 (2) – Buy
  48. Dune by Frank Herbert (1965) – 4/11/09 (2) – Buy
  49. The Crystal World by J. G. Ballard (1966) – 12/22/24 (1) – Buy
  50. Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison (1966) (1) – Buy
  51. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes (1966) – (1) – Buy
  52. The Dream Master by Roger Zelazny (1966) – (1) – Buy
  53. Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner (1968) – 1/29/16 (3) – Buy
  54. Nova by Samuel R. Delany (1968) – 11/14/14 (2) – Buy
  55. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick (1968) – 4/15/08 (4) – Buy
  56. Camp Concentration by Thomas M. Disch (1968) – 3/10/25 (2) – Buy
  57. The Final Programme by Michael Moorcock (1968) – Buy
  58. Pavane by Keith Roberts (1968) – 4/3/16 (1) – Buy
  59. Heroes and Villains by Angela Carter (1969) – Buy
  60. The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin (1969) – (1) – Buy
  61. The Palace of Eternity by Bob Shaw (1969) – Buy
  62. Bug Jack Barron by Norman Spinrad (1969) – (1) – Buy
  63. Tau Zero by Poul Anderson (1970) – (1) – Buy
  64. Downward to the Earth by Robert Silverberg (1970) – 8/26/17 (3) – Buy
  65. The Year of the Quiet Sun by Wilson Tucker (1970) – 5/13/12 (1) – OOP
  66. 334 by Thomas M. Disch (1972) – Buy
  67. The Fifth Head of Cerberus by Gene Wolfe (1972) – 6/25/18 (1) – Buy
  68. The Dancers at the End of Time by Michael Moorcock (1972) – Buy
  69. Crash by J. G. Ballard (1973) – Buy
  70. Looking Backward, from the Year 2000 by Mack Reynolds (1973) – OOP
  71. The Embedding by Ian Watson (1973) – Buy
  72. Walk to the End of the World by Suzy McKee Charnas (1974) – Buy
  73. The Centauri Device by M. John Harrison (1974) – Buy
  74. The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin (1974) – (1) – Buy
  75. Inverted World by Christopher Priest (1974) – 7/21/25 (1) – Buy
  76. High Rise by J.G. Ballard (1975) – Buy
  77. Galaxies by Barry N. Malzberg (1975) – 7/22/22 (1) – Buy
  78. The Female Man by Joanna Russ (1975) – Buy
  79. Orbitsville by Bob Shaw (1975) – Buy
  80. The Alteration by Kingsley Amis (1976) – Buy
  81. Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy (1976) – (1) – Buy
  82. Man Plus by Frederik Pohl (1976) – 8/30/96 (1) – Buy
  83. Michaelmas by Algis Budrys (1977) – Buy
  84. The Ophiuchi Hotline by John Varley (1977) – 5/18/85 (1) – Buy
  85. Miracle Visitors by Ian Watson (1978) – Buy
  86. Engine Summer by John Crowley (1979) – Buy
  87. On Wings of Song by Thomas M. Disch (1979) – Buy
  88. The Walking Shadow by Brian Stableford (1979) – Buy
  89. Juniper Time by Kate Wilhelm (1979) – OOP
  90. Timescape by Gregory Benford (1980) – 12/22/14 (3) – Buy
  91. The Dreaming Dragons by Damien Broderick (1980) – OOP
  92. Wild Seed by Octavia E. Butler (1980) – Buy
  93. Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban (1980) – Buy
  94. The Complete Roderick by John Sladek (1980) – Buy
  95. The Shadow of the Torturer by Gene Wolfe (1980) – Buy
  96. The Unreasoning Mask by Philip José Farmer (1981) – Buy
  97. Oath of Fealty by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle (1981) – Buy
  98. No Enemy But Time by Michael Bishop (1982) – Buy
  99. The Birth of the People’s Republic of Antarctica by John Calvin Batchelor (1983) – Buy
  100. Neuromancer by William Gibson (1984) – 5/8/85 (1) – Buy

JWH

“Sooner or Later or Never Never” by Gary Jennings

What exactly is fantasy? “Sooner Or Later Or Never Never” by Gary Jennings has no magic, no fantastic creatures. Its setting is present-day Australia. The story is both comic and absurd. Yet, it’s based on a somewhat realistic premise. Yes, the characters and plot are made up, but so is most fiction. I can find no reason to call this a fantasy. I assume Edward L. Ferman published it in the May 1972 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction because he admired the creative prose — and he had the power to publish it.

Gary Jennings (1928-1999) is known for writing historical fiction, but also published many stories in F&SF. You can read the story online here.

“Sooner or Later or Never Never” is told as a letter to The Rev. Orville Dismey, Dean of Missionary Vocations, at the Southern Primitive Protestant Seminary in Grobian, Virginia. Crispin Mobey narrates his effort to bring Christ to the Anula tribe in the Australian outback. Mobey was inspired by a quote from The Golden Bough by Sir James Frazer. The quote describes a ritual Frazer witnessed. Mobey wants to use that ritual to bring Christianity to a rather primitive tribe.

I’ve read “Sooner or Later or Never Never” before, but I’m not sure where and how. I don’t normally read this kind of fiction. However, the prose is quite entertaining. Normally, I dislike dialect, but Jennings captures outback Aussie hilariously. I wish I had an audiobook version.

There is no way I can describe this story, so I’m just going to give you two pages to read as a sample.

I know this is cheating, but I’m taking the easy way out. I’m posting this merely to encourage people to read this story. I read it today because my Facebook short story club is reading The Best Fantasy Stories from The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Reading this 792-page anthology demonstrates the range of what people call fantasy.

I routinely tell people I dislike fantasy. But of the stories we’ve read in this anthology, the ones set in the present about ordinary people have been the most entertaining to read. And the ones that people consider traditional fantasy were no fun to read. I guess when I say I dislike fantasy, I dislike only a subset of the genre.

However, I also think Ferman is cheating to call “Sooner or Later or Never Never” fantasy. It could have been published in almost any kind of fiction magazine.

James Wallace Harris, 7/14/25

“The Cloud-Sculptors of Coral D” by J. G. Ballard — Fantasy or SF?

I reread “The Cloud Sculptors of Coral-D” by J.G. Ballard because my short story reading group is reading The Best Fantasy from The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Inclusion in this volume suggests its fantasy. However, it was also included in The Great Science Fiction Series edited by Martin H. Greenberg, Joseph Olander, and Frederik Pohl. The story contains no magic, no dragons or elves, and it’s set in our present day, but in a fictional resort called Vermillion Sands.

Vermillion Sands feels like a decadent playground for the rich, which also features the many kinds of parasites that live off the wealthy. It’s also an artist and expat colony. We don’t know its location, but it feels like Palm Springs, California. Many worldly travelers come and go there.

“The Cloud Sculptors of Coral-D” was my first introduction to J. G. Ballard back in the 1960s. Other stories from that setting make up the series, collected into Vermillion Sands.

  • “Prima Belladonna” (Science Fantasy, December 1956)
  • “Venus Smiles” (Science Fantasy, June 1957)
  • “Studio 5, the Stars” (Science Fantasy, February 1961)
  • “The Thousand Dreams of Stellavista” (Amazing Stories, March 1962)
  • “The Singing Statues” (Fantastic Stories, July 1962) (not in original collection)
  • “The Screen Game” (Fantastic Stories, October 1963)
  • “Cry Hope, Cry Fury!” (F&SF, October 1967)
  • “The Cloud-Sculptors of Coral D” (F&SF, December 1967)
  • “Say Goodbye to the Wind” (Fantastic, August 1970)

Wikipedia provides an excellent overview of the stories, highlighting that each dealt with a different artistic medium being affected by technology.

When I first read “The Cloud Sculptors of Coral-D” as a teen, it felt very grown-up to me. The characters were the kinds of people I met growing up in Miami, not the typical heroes of science fiction stories I spent so much time reading. It never occurred to me to think of the story as fantasy, but it didn’t seem like science fiction either. At the time, I was just discovering British science fiction writers like Brian Aldiss and John Brunner and the New Wave SF. The stories were set in the present or near future and took place on Earth. No rockets or robots. Was this actual science fiction?

“The Cloud Sculptors of Coral-D” is about a band of glider pilots who shape clouds with silver iodide. At first, their audience and patrons are people who park their cars along the lagoon road to watch. Eventually, the Garbo-like Leonora Chanel hires them to perform for her party. Sculpting clouds is a neat idea, but far from realistic. Does that make the story science fiction? Ballard does throw in a creature called sand rays, which I suppose are like manta rays that live under the sand instead of the sea. Do they make the story a fantasy?

Science fiction has often been the dumping ground for any kind of weird story that can’t be classified. The Vermillion Sands stories would have been rejected by mainstream and literary magazines. They fit nicely in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. They were also published in the British magazine Science Fantasy and the American Fantastic. Only one was published in a straight-ahead science fiction magazine, Amazing Stories. I doubt John W. Campbell would have accepted them in Astounding or Analog. Nor would he have published them in Unknown. I wonder if Rod Serling would have used “The Cloud Sculptors of Coral-D” for The Twilight Zone?

I’m not fond of traditional fantasy, and many of the stories in The Best Fantasy from The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction aren’t enjoyable for me to read. But I did enjoy “The Cloud Sculptors of Coral-D.” The story has a pleasant, surreal feel. The setting is very close to this world, but just a smidge off. I love the artist colony atmosphere, the hint of decadence, the ever-so-slight sense of unreality. The story combines barnstorming, carny folks, and the ugly rich. I visualize it as a cross between early Faulkner and Fellini.

The shortest description would be to say the story has atmosphere.

James Wallace Harris, 7/1/25

THE LAST ASTRONAUT by David Wellington

I don’t read many science fiction novels nowadays. I prefer SF short stories. I just don’t read as many books as I used to. However, after my friend Laurie told me about The Last Astronaut by David Wellington, I decided to give it a try. The Last Astronaut is the kind of science fiction thriller that Michael Crichton used to write — fast pace, lots of physical action, and basically fun. The Last Astronaut reminded me how entertaining reading a novel used to be. I wouldn’t call it great, but it does have that page-turning quality.

Now I do have some things to say about it, but what I have to say is full of spoilers. I recommend you go read the novel and then come back here, if you can remember. The Last Astronaut made me think about how science fiction novels change over the years, and how each generation retells old themes in new ways.

The Last Astronaut is about a Big Dumb Object. That’s the official name of a specific science fiction plot device. When I started reading The Last Astronaut, I immediately thought of Rendezvous with Rama. In 2020, The Last Astronaut was nominated for the Arthur C. Clarke Award. Wikipedia even says, “Edward Guimont and Horace A. Smith propose that the origins of the Big Dumb Object trope can be found in H. P. Lovecraft’s novellas At the Mountains of Madness and The Shadow Out of Time, both of which feature human expeditions to immense ancient alien cities in remote parts of our world, and both of which were early influences upon Arthur C. Clarke.”

Funny that they mention H. P. Lovecraft. Because I also thought of Lovecraft while reading The Last Astronaut. Wellington’s novel features horror. Horror like the film Alien, but also horror like Lovecraft’s monstrous alien gods.

The setting, inside the vast alien spacecraft, is dark. Having a story set almost completely in darkness reminded me of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth and The Night Land by William Hope Hodgson.

I’m finally reminded of another story/movie, Fantastic Voyage by Isaac Asimov, along with “Finisterra” by David Moles. This last reminder should give you one huge clue to what’s happening in The Last Astronaut. But I did warn you about spoilers.

My point in this essay is that science fiction is seldom original anymore. The Last Astronaut feels like David Wellington took several of his favorite science fiction themes and blended them into a new SF novel. It succeeds well. I had a lot of problems with the characters because I felt their psychological motivations were too contrived. However, Wellington does use those contrived motivations to wrap up his novel. The ending does make sense and is satisfying.

I was entertained by how Wellington told his story. Wellington places himself in the book as an author in the future, writing a historical novel, but a history that hasn’t happened yet. It’s amusing that one of his characters criticizes the future Wellington for getting his facts wrong. Since we know the story is based on history, there are clues as to who survives and who doesn’t. The audiobook is especially nice because they rig up the audio so that interviews of characters taken after events sound different.

In the 40s and 50s, science fiction writers aimed to create new ideas and themes, but their stories were told without sophistication. In the 60s and 70s, SF writers added literary techniques to their stories. In the 80s and 90s, SF writers upped the ante by going epic. Hyperion is a great example. In the 21st century, SF writers have had to constantly find new ways to tell stories that have already been told.

If you haven’t read old science fiction, new science fiction seems novel. If you have read old science fiction, new science fiction feels recycled. That’s not a bad thing, but it makes the stories feel baroque when you cram so many old ideas into one story. Wellington does streamline his novel, so it feels action-packed like old science fiction. In some ways, his storytelling is as speedy as Edgar Rice Burroughs’ stories or pulp fiction.

James Wallace Harris, 6/6/25

How To Buy the Most Ray Bradbury Short Stories with the Fewest Purchases

Ray Bradbury published hundreds of short stories over and over again in various collections. Bradbury and his publishers often repackaged his stories into new collections or reprinted older collections with a slightly different lineup of stories. Ray Bradbury’s bibliography at ISFDB.org is so confusing that we’ve decided to select those collections that will provide the most stories by buying the fewest books.

Mike, the programmer for the Classics of Science Fiction website, coded several programs to find the right combinations of Bradbury collections that would give the widest selection of stories to read. The permutations turned out to be excessively large, so we simplified the procedure.

Our solution was to pick the collection that provided the most Bradbury stories. Then add a second collection that provides the most additional stories not in the first collection. Then add the third collection that contributes the next most additional stories, not in the previous two. And so on. Study the table, and the technique will become obvious.

Here are the twenty-five collections we used. We only used collections that are in print, either in hardback, paperback, e-book, or audiobook. Hyperlinks are to Amazon affiliate links.

  1. 1947 – Dark Carnival
  2. 1950 – The Martian Chronicles
  3. 1951 – The Illustrated Man
  4. 1955 – The October Country
  5. 1957 – Dandelion Wine
  6. 1965 – Vintage Bradbury
  7. 1976 – Long After Midnight
  8. 1980 – The Stories of Ray Bradbury
  9. 1983 – Dinosaur Tales
  10. 1988 – The Toynbee Convecter
  11. 1996 – Quicker Than the Eye
  12. 1997 – Driving Blind
  13. 1997 – The Golden Apples of the Sun and Other Stories
  14. 1998 – A Medicine for Melancholy and Other Stories
  15. 1998 – I Sing the Body Electric and Other Stories
  16. 2002 – One More for the Road
  17. 2003 – Bradbury Stories
  18. 2004 – The Cat’s Pajamas
  19. 2007 – Now and Forever
  20. 2009 – We’ll Always Have Paris
  21. 2010 – A Pleasure to Burn
  22. 2010 – Killer, Come Back to Me
  23. 2011 – The Collected Stories of Ray Bradbury 1: 1938-1943
  24. 2014 – The Collected Stories of Ray Bradbury 2: 1943-1944
  25. 2017 – The Collected Stories of Ray Bradbury 3: 1944-1945

Here are Mike’s calculations.

James Wallace Harris, 3/30/25