Dangerous Visions

A hallmark of the New Wave movement. Source: Here

"What you hold in your hands is more than a book. If we are lucky, it is a revolution."

When Harlan Ellison began this sci-fi anthology with the above quote, I can't help but wonder if he knew an inkling of how seismic its impact would be. A collection of 33 short stories by some of the leading science fiction luminaries writing at the time as well as some relative newcomers - Philip K. Dick, Theodore Sturgeon, Robert Silverberg, Brian W. Aldiss, Samuel R. Delaney, and of course Harlan Ellison himself - this anthology is filled to the brim with accomplished writers at the peak of their abilities or soon to be ascendant.

Published in 1967 and edited together by American writer Harlan Ellison, the prime objective of this anthology was to bring to the forefront stories considered too dangerous, too risky and taboo for publication elsewhere. Dangerous Visions would form a cornerstone of the New Wave movement and was soon followed up in 1972 by an even larger sequel; Again, Dangerous Visions. Each story begins with an introduction by Ellison and an afterword by the author outlining their intent and some closing comments, padding the page count considerably but also adding some extra insight into the creation of each story which was an aspect of the book I enjoyed.

With the sheer glut of stories available it took some time to sift through and decide but there were a great number of gems in there:

• Evensong (Lester del Rey) - it does in seven pages what whole books often fail to do. Utterly arresting and compelling to the very end; just saying anything about the plot is a spoiler but what a way to start off the book!
• A Toy for Juliette (Robert Bloch) - a very dark and grim tale about a killer whose grandfather brings her victims from across time, with an unexpected sting in the tail to come.
• Faith of Our Fathers (Philip K. Dick) - my favorite in the collection, though I'm generally biased toward anything Dick. A strange meld of theology, Cold War politics and hallucinogenic drugs filled with quintessential Dick strangeness.
• Gonna Roll the Bones (Fritz Leiber) - a man plays craps with Death. Shades of the Seventh Seal there for me so if that doesn't sell you on it, I don't know what will.
• The Doll-House (James Cross) - a cautionary tale mixing ancient mythology with modern parable, where our protagonist receives a doll-house containing a small Greek oracle. 
• If All Men Were Brothers, Would You Let One Marry Your Sister? (Theodore Sturgeon) - a discomforting story that still packs a punch. Sturgeon knows how to write a good story.
• Judas (John Brunner) - my first taste of Brunner's writing and holy smokes he is good. Another zinger in this collection!
• Carcinoma Angels (Norman Spinrad) - an entertaining story with a stinger of an end.

For an anthology promising "dangerous visions" I couldn't shake the feeling that a lot of them weren't really particularly dangerous. Maybe it's the fact that these stories were published in 1968 and several decades' worth of new stories, new themes and new dangers just mean they don't feel quite as timely or as risky as they once did. Nevertheless these remains evocative enough for me to at least understand why this anthology is as revered as it is.

Another small criticism was the lack of diversity in the number of authors whose stories were published. For all the forward-thinking and progressiveness of these stories, a primarily white male author base I can't help but feel doesn't represent the full depth and breadth of what dangerous visions sci-fi can offer.

On the whole though, I really enjoyed reading Dangerous Visions. A vital cornerstone of the New Wave, it is a sampling of some of the finest work of the time. Worth it on the historical value alone.

Stand on Zanzibar

A vision of the future? Source: Here

"Hipcrime: you committed one when you opened up this book. Keep it up. It's our only hope."

This is easily one of the strangest, most unconventional books I've read. A rarity among science fiction in that its predictions are eerily close to how events came to be, and still are. 

Stand on Zanzibar was written in 1968 by John Brunner and won the Hugo Award in 1969. The book is set in the then-future date of 2010, with the world population having grown to seven billion and increasing tensions between the American and East Asian superpowers. Extrapolating from existing social, economic and technological trends, Brunner creates a world eerily like our own, with several predictions hitting awfully close for comfort:

• (1) Random acts of violence by crazy individuals, often taking place at schools, plague society in Stand on Zanzibar.
• (2) The other major source of instability and violence comes from terrorists, who are now a major threat to U.S. interests, and even manage to attack buildings within the United States.
• (3) Prices have increased sixfold between 1960 and 2010 because of inflation. (The actual increase in U.S. prices during that period was sevenfold, but Brunner was close.)
• (4) The most powerful U.S. rival is no longer the Soviet Union, but China. However, much of the competition between the U.S. and Asia is played out in economics, trade, and technology instead of overt warfare.
• (5) Europeans have formed a union of nations to improve their economic prospects and influence on world affairs. In international issues, Britain tends to side with the U.S., but other countries in Europe are often critical of U.S. initiatives.
• (6) Africa still trails far behind the rest of the world in economic development, and Israel remains the epicenter of tensions in the Middle East.
• (7) Although some people still get married, many in the younger generation now prefer short-term hookups without long-term commitment.
• (8) Gay and bisexual lifestyles have gone mainstream, and pharmaceuticals to improve sexual performance are widely used (and even advertised in the media).
• (9) Many decades of affirmative action have brought blacks into positions of power, but racial tensions still simmer throughout society.
• (10) Motor vehicles increasingly run on electric fuel cells. Honda (primarily known as a motorcycle manufacturers when Brunner wrote his book) is a major supplier, along with General Motors.
• (11) Yet Detroit has not prospered, and is almost a ghost town because of all the shuttered factories. However. a new kind of music — with an uncanny resemblance to the actual Detroit techno movement of the 1990s — has sprung up in the city.
• (12) TV news channels have now gone global via satellite.
• (13) TiVo-type systems allow people to view TV programs according to their own schedule.
• (14) Inflight entertainment systems on planes now include video programs and news accessible on individual screens at each seat.
• (15) People rely on avatars to represent themselves on video screens — Brunner calls these images, which either can look like you or take on another appearance you select — “Mr. and Mrs. Everywhere.”
• (16) Computer documents are generated with laser printers.
• (17) A social and political backlash has marginalized tobacco, but marijuana has been decriminalized. 

•  Source: https://themillions.com/2013/03/the-weird-1969-new-wave-sci-fi-novel-that-correctly-predicted-the-current-day.html 

What makes it stand out as one of the most innovative examples of the New Wave is Brunner's inter-mixing of narrative with worldbuilding chapters, providing background from sources like advertisements, newspaper extracts, song lyrics, book quotes and the like. Co-opted from John Dos Passos' USA Trilogy, the result of this narrative construction is a truly sprawling world that looks and feels real. The large cast of characters gives a broad cross-section of this future society, giving it real depth in its examinations of people just trying to get by from day to day; and yet even with this massive cast the book never feels bloated.

The structure of the book splits narrative and worldbuilding into several sections:

• "Continuity" - main narrative is largely contained here.

• "Tracking with Closeups" - used to take a closer look at supporting characters or build a further picture of the state of the world.

• "The Happening World" - short descriptive passages embodying the vibrant, cramped nature of the world.

• "Context" - fairly self-explanatory really. The main setting for the novel, comprised of headlines, advertisements and further texts, and in one chapter, actual headlines from the 1960s.

Even with the interblending of several plot threads the main plot remains easy to follow. The main narrative centers around two roommates, Norman Niblock House and Donald Hogan. Norman is a rising executive at General Technics, using his "Afram" (American) heritage to move higher up in the company. Donald Hogan appears for all intents and purposes to be a student, but is in fact a spy working for the U.S. government that can be called up at any time. Their plots provide the through-line for the rest of the book, keeping everything anchored and preventing the plot meandering too much.

Looking at the predictions above, it's hard not to be a little awed at how close to the mark Brunner. Yes, certainly some of his more specific predictions did not come to be but just extrapolating from then-present socio-economic trends it stands as a testament to Brunner's talent that he came as close as he did.

It wasn't an easy book to read, and Brunner isn't interested in playing catch-up for anyone lost in the narrative. But it is an immensely rewarding experience, and I hope to be able to experience his strange new world again.

Her Smoke Rose Up Forever

A haunting collection. Source: Here

"Man is an animal whose dreams come true and kill him."

I enjoy short story anthologies for the reason that they provide a wide corpus of an author's work, usually across their career and hosting such a wide variety of stories that you get to see how they write for different characters, contexts and narratives. Sometimes the results are good, sometimes not so good - and sometimes you get a book like this. I put off writing this review just because of the sheer impact these stories had on me as a whole, and I wanted to collect my thoughts before writing about such a haunting piece of literature.

Her Smoke Rose Up Forever is a collection of 18 science fiction and fantasy short stories written by James Tiptree Jr. across the length of her writing career and covering human nature, biological essentialism, gender and sexuality, metaphysics and our own perception of the world we live in. Needless to say it isn't your usual sci-fi - and it makes for such a vivid set of tales that still ring with me now even months after reading it.

Just reading up on Tiptree herself makes for an informative read. Tiptree itself is a pseudonym, her real name being Alice Bradley Sheldon. Her mother worked as a writer and her father was a lawyer, Bradley enjoyed travels with them from an early age. Initially working as a graphic artist, a painter and then an art critic, she joined the United States Army Air Forces in 1942, later promoted to major. She would later study for a Bachelor of Arts degree at American University (1957-59) and gain a doctorate at George Washington University in 1967 in Experimental Psychology, also submitting science fiction stories under the name James Tipree Jr., not just to protect her academic reputation but due to the sadly accurate perception that stories written under male names weren't unfairly disregarded. She's quoted as saying:

"A male name seemed like good camouflage. I had the feeling that a man would slip by less observed. I've had too many experiences in my life of being the first woman in some damned occupation."

Certainly, the common thread through these stories are women and their treatment by the society they live in; and oftentimes their attempts at escape. Consider "The Screwfly Solution", which posits misogyny as an infectious disease with lethal consequences. Or perhaps "Houston, Houston, Do You Read?" where a group of male astronauts displaced in time arrive to a future Earth solely populated by women. In "The Women Men Don't See" both women choose to leave with aliens rather than stay on Earth, following the monsters they don't know over they monsters they do. There's such variety, such a fertile imagination at display - and the questions she grapples with elevate her work beyond just pulpy sci-fi.

They are dark stories though. Women are often beaten, powerless, at the mercy of men. But is that so different from our world? Yes, the stories border on downright depressing but that's their whole point; highlighting just how messy and tragic our own one is. You'll notice I'm waxing poetic but that's just because of the ride this book took me on. I'd definitely recommend not whizzing through it, this is a story collection to absorb and think on instead of consuming it all at once.

I came out of that book changed, and those stories still stick with me today. Alice Sheldon had a voice and a talent in their own league, and there haven't been many like her since. Certainly not for the faint of heart but I'd heartily recommend it to any S.F. fan willing to try something different.

The Left Hand of Darkness

A true classic of science fiction. Source: Here

“Light is the left hand of darkness
and darkness the right hand of light.
Two are one, life and death, lying
together like lovers in kemmer,
like hands joined together,
like the end and the way.”

Finally, a female author to break up the monotony! And who better to start with than Ursula Le Guin and her most famous work?

The Left Hand of Darkness is a science-fiction novel published in 1969 by Ursula K. Le Guin and is part of her Hainish Cycle series. In this universe humanity originated not on Earth but on the planet Hain, expanding outward and colonizing neighbouring planetary systems. For unknown reasons, these planets lost contact and in the present the Hainish are once again attempting to form a galactic civilisation.

Our story plays out on the planet Winter (known as "Gethen" in the native people's tongue, and referred to as such because it is always cold) where galactic envoy Genly Ai has been sent to persuade Gethen to join the Ekumen - this is complicated by the fact that Gethen is divided into two nations, Karhide and Orgoreyn,who do NOT get on very amicably. The people of Gethen are an androgynous, only adopting male or female sexual attributes once a month during a period referred to as kemmer,  and with no inclination toward either sex.

The significance of this book cannot be understated. Science-fiction for a large part of the 20th century has predominantly been a boys' club, with female and minority authors overlooked or lucky enough to get anything published to anywhere near the same degree as their male or white counterparts. When The Left Hand of Darkness was published in 1969, it arrived in the midst of two significant movements:

• In the wider world second-wave feminism was in full swing, and contrary to its predecessors this focused on gaining equality with men in social and political spheres and gaining greater legal rights for women.
• The New Wave was still in force in science fiction, marking a shift toward more experimental forms of writing and moving away from science fiction focusing on the hard sciences and toward the social sciences.

While Le Guin certainly wasn't the first female writer working in science-fiction, The Left Hand of Darkness certainly helped break down the barriers preventing women from writing more and went on to meet significant critical acclaim, winning both the Hugo and Nebula awards - the big two awards a sci-fi book can hope to attain.

What I really enjoyed about this book was almost the anthropological approach that Le Guin took in writing this story. Her own father, Alfred Louis Kroeber, was an anthropologist, and you can see how this influence permeates the book - what with the main protagonist's central struggle focusing on successful integration and coming to grips with an alien society. We have chapters fleshing out the Gethenian race which focus on their origins, religion, and even local myths, just little features I thought helped flesh out these strange beings more than we're used to in science fiction.

Another aspect I enjoyed was seeing how Genly grappled with the concept of "the Other" all throughout. Having come from Earth, with its own gender roles and delineations, to then be thrust into Gethenian society without the same notions of gender throws him for a spin. This difference makes relating to the Gethen a great difficulty for Genly, and even his assignation of value to their perceived gendered traits (e.g. equating femininity to weakness) doesn't help matters. His alien nature prevents him from fully understanding how Gethenians and their society work.

Easily my favorite part is the character of Estraven. Not just as the mentor guiding Genly - and by extension the reader - through this frosty alien world but as a person trying to do the right thing. Even when exiled and disgraced, he still risks his life for Genly, to the extent of helping take him across a glacier in order to return to civilisation. Indeed, both Estraven and Genly appear symbolic of the book's thematic core; learning from and aiding one another regardless of it the gap between us is unbridgeable.

The gender aspect of the book I thought could have been executed better. Le Guin writes the Gethenians almost solely using male pronouns ("fathers, sons, brothers") when we have a multitude of gender neutral pronouns ("parents/guardians, children, siblings") that could have been more than acceptable. For the time it was published, the fact that there was an effort to make such different notions of gender a central part of your narrative in my eyes should be commended.

All in all, I really enjoyed this thought-provoking book. It left me with so much to mull over and I'm certain I'll come to revisit it soon enough. I think this end quote really sums up the essence of what Le Guin was aiming for here; that even when there gaps between you and "the Other" that cannot be overcome, that shouldn't stop us from attempting to try:

“And I saw then again, and for good, what I had always been afraid to see, and had pretended not to see in him: that he was a woman as well as a man. Any need to explain the sources of that fear vanished with that fear; what I was left with was, at last, acceptance of him as he was. Until then I had rejected him, refused him his own reality.”

Lord of Light

Say what you want about the 60s but their covers were something else... Source: Here

"His followers called him Mahasamatman and said he was a god. He preferred to drop the Maha- and the -atman, however, and called himself Sam. He never claimed to be a god, but then he never claimed not to be a god."

Lord of Light was one of the first pieces of New Wave* science fiction I read. Immediately from the first page, I had a sneaking suspicion this wasn't going to be your typical sci-fi romp in outer space - and thank the stars it wasn't!

Written in 1967 by Roger Zelazny, Lord of Light is a science-fantasy novel set in the distant future, on an alien planet colonised by settlers from a bygone Earth (referred to as "vanished Urath"). In order to survive in this strange world, the crew used bioengineering and advanced technology to grant themselves great psionic and physical power which essentially raised them to the level of gods. However, the crew would go on to take the names and powers of various Hindu deities and set themselves up as a divine ruling class over the many generations of colonists and their descendants, maintaining a stranglehold on any technological advancement so as to avoid their power being weakened. The clincher is that these gods hold control of a technology that allows for mind transfer into a new body - essentially holding a monopoly on who is allowed to reincarnate, and into what form. Shades of Clarke's Third Law come to mind...

One of their number, Mahasamatman (or just Sam), chooses to rebel against the gods and instead attempts to make this technology available to all - as a result he spends countless years revolting against the gods, amassing allies, striking when he can across multiple lives, until his capture and and his soul's banishment to the firmament above. 

The book itself jumps from present to past and back again, detailing Sam's rise and rebellion, the allies and enemies he meets, to his exile and subsequent return. What initially caught my attention about this book was the deliberate use of an Eastern setting and mythologies not only in the worldbuilding but also in the story itself - certainly that choice initially made Lord of Light stand out from the very Eurocentric science fiction and fantasy landscape. Zelazny's inclusion of Hinduism and Buddhism never smacks of Orientalism** and if anything, just adds to the unique character of the book.

It is ponderous and wry all at the same time with its own unique mix of science, political intrigue, mysticism, religion and mythology. Sam could very easily retire away from the world by the second chapter once he gains the means to keep himself and his friends going for perpetuity and yet instead he persists in overthrowing the gods on behalf of the mortals they subjugate. One of my favorite moments in the book comes when Sam is possessed by one of the demonic inhabitants of this planet and forced to watch as his body carries out atrocity after atrocity - and he is courageous enough to sad that yes, a sliver of him enjoyed what was happening. That in my eyes immediately marks Sam differently from the myriad of Chosen One protagonists all too common in the genre.

One could argue the "rising up against an oppressive upper class" storyline has been played out so many times so as to lose all intrigue - in this instance I feel the unique settling and mythologies drawn from to create this world offset that. Even with his use of Eastern faiths, I feel Zelazny's point was to show how religion can be used as a mechanism to restrain a populace rather than any specific criticism on the faiths themselves.

Lord of Light is a spellbinding book well worth an afternoon's read. Equal parts thoughtful and amusing, it is a book bound to keep you entertained.

*New Wave - a literary movement in sci-fi lasting from the 60s to late 70s, characterised by a focus on the "softer" sciences as opposed to "hard" science, a high degree of experimental content/prose and a more literary approach to writing; in essence a break from the prior traditions of pulp sf and their emphasis on scientific accuracy/prediction.

**Orientalism - a general patronising attitude toward Middle Eastern, Asian and North African societies, carrying the implication that Western society is inherently more rational and therefore superior.

Dying Inside

Telepathy isn't as fun as expected. Source: Here

“It was like that all the time, in those years: an endless trip, a gaudy voyage. But powers decay. Time leaches the colors from the best of visions. The world becomes grayer. Entropy beats us down. Everything fades. Everything goes. Everything dies.”

With a title like "Dying Inside" you'd be forgiven for not wanting something quite so morose to read in your spare time. It's also a book that only just scrapes a sci-fi categorization - set in then-contemporary 1970s America, virtually the only science-fiction aspect is the telepathy of the main character. As a note of warning to anyone thinking of picking this book: perhaps not the best read if you happen to be suffering a crisis of faith, because this book does not let up.

Dying Inside is a science-fiction novel written by Robert Silverberg and published in 1972. At the time, science fiction was very heavily influenced by the New Wave movement, which eschewed the traditions of previous pulp science fiction, choosing to focus on "soft" as opposed to hard SF and set apart from its predecessors by a greater degree of experimentation and introduction of a more literary sensibility to sci-fi narratives. 

The main thrust of the plot follows our protagonist David Selig, an ordinary man distinguished from others by virtue of his telepathic abilities, finding himself slowly losing that special power. A fairly small self-contained story about an extraordinary man coming to grips with the loss of his telepathy, who certainly isn't a sympathetic figure - having squandered his ability for his own personal gain and a miserable, self-pitying, self-loathing presence. 

You'd think that combination would sour you on Selig almost immediately; but it is a testament to Silverberg's skill as a writer for me to be proven so utterly wrong. The novel itself is episodic, beginning with the present-day narrative where Selig is making ends meet ghostwriting essays for college students, reading their minds so he's able to better plagiarize on their behalf. Moving from past to present we get to learn more about our protagonist and the people he interacts, from his mistrusting sister to child psychologist to his various girlfriends and even a fellow telepath.

Silverberg's prose is utterly enchanting here - this was one of those books that once started, I simply could not put down, how vivid and mesmerizing it was and how easily it jumps from mood to mood without the slightest hint of whiplash or disorientation. It speaks volumes how a tale about a disaffected depressive who misuses his telepathy can be made so compelling.

The fundamental themes of this book, communication, the fear of human connection and the isolation that results from it, issues of aging and the decline that follows aren't themes that usually appear in sci-fi, and certainly ring more than true for many people. Seeing these handled deftly, sensitively and in a way that allows the reader to judge David Selig's story for themselves is remarkable, particularly in a genre still associated today with its pulpy roots in the early 20th Century.

 Dying Inside is one of those rare works that transcends genre and has rightly earned its reputation as a sci-fi classic and a shining gem of the New Wave. I can't recommend it enough.