Gutenberg Sci-Fi 3
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Burroughs predates the SciFi Ages by many years. He could be snooty about pulp‐fiction—though whether he was looking down on his audience or the trade, I can’t tell. A Princess of Mars was his first writing published as pulp serial, and one of the first published as a book. It’s worth consideration because later writers are quoted as saying it was influential. Empire scenery is not original, may have been outdated back then, but I can’t speak for this being a sketch of a decaying, as opposed to a remote, civilisation. I also can’t speak for multi‐limbed green and red aliens. References say the romance was new, and the author throws some perhaps‐unusual ideas like incubators. The book is confident at summoning scenarios such as the American outback and warfare basics. The plot moves fast, and is opera—Wikipedia reports Edgar Burroughs accepted suggestions about this, and he has novel, if fantastic, ideas for how to achieve space travel. Some of the action and positioning stretches credibility—the John Carter character gets lucky too often. Though it works for the space‐travel, the plot about breathable‐atmosphere generation is tagged on and jarrs. There are touches of science and, if fantastic in development, these slot into what was known at the time. At base, the book is solid writing, if not outstanding. Edgar Burroughs predates Abraham Merrit by perhaps five years, and this book is more engaged in action, plainer in prose and perhaps aimed at a slightly different audience. With an ending that, if not compelling, is sincere. It’s straightforward, well‐made, has touches of invention and so better than much you’ll find. That said, like it’s hero and aside from insights into the society that made it a bestseller, it’s historical significance is most of what it has to say.
There’s plenty of Edgar Rice Burroughs on Gutenberg so, if you have an interest in these famous constructions, or the origins of Sci‐Fi, this is the place.
John Campbell
John Campbell was, according to those who wrote about him, a big man with exasperating opinions. He became an editor, so stopped writing fiction in favour of winding up writers. People say his editing made wide changes to the genre, pushing pulp story towards scientific scepticism and realism, ‘Piracy Preferred’ is the first story in a collection The Back Star Passes. The traits are there to see. Here’s a more human‐scale drama, on an earth that can be recognised as our world, which then plunges into page after page of lab reports, as though the aim was to show a book could be written that way. That, plus a vaporised end—it’s intriguing and wayward.
The Metal Horde is a stew of technological advance for militaristic purpose. There’s some interesting dope about how material sources and production volumes are important, and how battle formations can be significant. It’s also convincing about the appearance of an enemy, and the manoeuvrers each side in war may make. Overall, like a war‐strategy game written out as text. Story ends with a tail section about a rise of the machines. In this tail section there seems to be something personal, deep and without judgement—it’s memorable. Maybe the best thing of it’s type I’ve read, though Fletcher Pratt’s ‘Onslaught From Rigel’ offers a different sensibility—likely readers would prefer one or the other. The Voice of the Void is from the same year as ‘The Metal Horde’. It’s in the M. Campbell style which means,
aliens will appear
they and us will come for war
war can be stopped by winning
winning is accomplished with technology
technology is produced by genius
genius is best supported by a hierarchy of lab rats
scientific plausibility means throwing in scientific facts and rumbling about basic physical and process limitations
In fairness, all these items except the last apply to most space warfare writers. In this one, the sun (of the Solar System) is dying, so mankind flies to Betelgeuse, meets force creatures, then kills them.
The Ultimate Weapon is a long story where aliens invade the solar system. With little interest in identity or drama, it starts efficiently, but notes some facts about the solar system—“Phobos of course rotated with one face fixed irrevocably toward Mars itself”—and builds these into the space battle strategy. But most of the words are spent on the development of weapons, which has scientific nuggets and words slung into a stew of “using a warpinator and violet sparks we can make a death ray”. That said, these technological descriptions manage to capture aspects of scientific process, even if performed by the usual financially‐enabled hero types (I’m none too sure if the writer is conscious of his pulp‐styling, or if he believes this is how technology evolves). In this the story is different to other alien invasion stories but, despite it’s ending, seems lack the wit that the Ultimate Weapons may be good management and peace.
Karel Čapek
Now, he wrote the first robot story and, with his brother, invented the word. Roughly, ’robot’ reputedly means ’worker’, which is going to clue you in that this is Eastern European sci‐fi, an entirely different genre. Note also this predates Fifties sci‐fi by thirty years and a casm of culture and writing influence. I tried RUR, which is a script for a stage play, and was immensely popular at the time. Subject matter or not, it’s a delight, with good manners, intelligence, warmth, and a shocking cosmic fatalism. Stands up better than well‐known play scripts from the time and since. It’s a stretch to leap into the style and form, but if you are inclined to try, I doubt you’ll regret it.
No ‘Revenge of the Newts’ on Gutenberg, but how can you argue with ‘RUR’ in American and Czech? A Gutenberg gem.
Arthur C. Clarke
NB: not represented on Gutenberg
Scientist concerned with the scientific and human difficulties of space exploration and first contact. His short story inspired, and he then co‐wrote the screenplay for, the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Hal Clement
Hal Clement (Harry Clement Stubbs) was about at the start of the middle period of Sci‐Fi, 1942 onwards. The Green World is an ‘other world’ story, a description of archaeology and fossil hunting. As story or drama, it’s not up to much—a dragging introduction leads to a detailed description of the mechanism of the activity, which ends with a twist. It’s biggest asset is the world description, which is mysterious in a scientific way, yet this too is wasted by a lack of concept. The small aims have potential, the uncovering of artefact could have been loaded drama, the hard science is welcome, but this one never sets forth.
Proving that research has it’s uses, Attitude is the Hal Clement work that Damon Knight describes. An escape story based on another planet with starfish aliens it has a careful setting of background in a jail, low‐key action, mild characters and a plausible scientific question—“Where are we?” Damon Knight didn’t mention but would perhaps have agreed that here also is a less melodramatic intent of the parties. Not as flamboyantly entertaining as work by other authors, but has a moodiness that, though I’ve never seen acknowledged, points towards later work like Ursula Le Guin.
Currently three of Hal Clement on Gutenberg, so you could try those.
Stanton Coblentz
An article on the work of Stanton Coblentz says he was a sometime poet who had a long career. Other than this I can find little, though somewhere there is an autobiography. Yet his writing alone suggests he may have been an interesting guy. In the only unqualified commentary I’ve found on M. Coblentz work, Damon Knight stood a passage from a novel as other‐world travel with a thrill of the unknown. I’d also throw in there’s an unusual pensiveness about the fate of his creations. Flight Through Tomorrow is a short twelve pages, in which Stanton Coblentz goes on a drug trip where he razes the world to the ground, while he hopes for those who escape find some bright arrival. A spastic dystopic–utopic fantasy—in 1947 that was Science Fiction.
The The Cosmic Deflector unknowingly touches on perhaps the biggest threat ever faced by humanity, right now. The science is balderdash, but the idea is consistently worked and forms the main plot of the story. The plot is mainly about being held to ransom, which works through in shallow and unlikely ways, but is straightforward. The writing is here and there awkward but zesty. Indeed, the threat proposed may be narrated second‐hand but is worked up into a storm of words and conviction that comes right off the page. And it’s convincing that the writer cares about the fates of those involved, so you the reader care also. The characters may be bare sketches, but one is a resourceful woman. May be a better bet than the novels which, despite their satire, have tedious stretches.
Samuel Delany
Samuel Delany is linked with the change in later 1960’s Sci‐Fi towards denser, more wayward writing. I’ll start with the Jewels of Aptor because I think it was the first. It’s a fantasy quest with hints of Sci‐Fi culture, if not science‐fiction, on the magic stones of power which develops into an unusual and effective ying/yang take on what those powers are. The plot rolls on mistaken perceptions that are confusing so I couldn’t be bothered to follow. But a mediocre character, if they know what is going on, can upend the power of a priestess—a refreshing change. As the quest unrolls, with I assume M. Delany themes that drama may not work out for the best and nobody knows what’s happening, the story works through scenes for once meaningful and inventive… I’m not going to spoil, but this would make a gripping video game. If you can stand for the impressionistic writing style, recommended.
Captives of the Flame, another short novel, doesn’t promise much—same fantasy‐world as Jewels of Aptor, which is Empire‐riches and (emphasised!) a 1500’s English pitch that involves fishermen and courts and so forth. At start it’s most notable for free‐form sentence construction in an impressionistic style that’s all cloud edges and thought‐inserted. But then the story scatters an idea that this is future‐earth Sci‐Fi—the culture has photography—which is more involving (though not quite Roger Zelazny’s ‘Lords of Light’). Then the fishermen and good‐hearted‐street‐rogues, even the courtly characters, have odd pitches like mathematics or four arms, and clash in scenes that are unsure and off‐path…. while the plot rolls along gleefully serving injustice on characters with moves like fish‐poisoning. And, for me unconvincing as plot but asserted and present, an idea that the victims of warmongering identities are themselves. At which point, I think anyone must admit, for better or worse, this is different.
Only these two, which were his first, by M. Delany on Gutenberg, but either or both invaluable as a radical personal take on how fantasy conventions can be reworked, and to understand the changes to come.
Philip K. Dick
Philip K. Dick was, like Harry Harrison (look up a bit), a little later than the first wave. His work became tied, perhaps unfortunately, with the concerns of sixties counterculture movements. An interesting guy who freaked out some, I suspect he would have explained clearly what he was doing, if anyone had been concerned to ask. Most of his work is solid sci‐fi except when considering a speculative ‘if’ of personal drama, politics, or religion.
I tried The Eyes Have It. This is a micro‐story or, as the introduction calls it, a whimsy. For me it’s unkind, but saved by the invention in the plot and the weirdness the author makes of his distance. I also tried The Piper In The Woods. This story works from an irresistible psychological premise and, despite a conventional end, is fun to read. The Gun shows what you can do with a scenario well known from recent movies. It uses non‐heros, and perhaps pushes it’s metaphors too hard, but it is strange. The Defenders is a short story about cold‐war peoples living underground. The as‐usual plain prose is dense here, with odd outcomes and unexpectedly tense drama.
Another story, written only a year after his first publication, The Hanging Stranger, has a plain style, neatly assembled but unremarkable—a little more literary than Harry Harrison because of qualifying terms and pictured asides. It’s nicely constructed, and thoroughly deviant with a central character of a hapless man. There’s a sense of something personal and experienced pushing through the text here. For many, this dynamic is why they dismiss Philip K. Dick’s work—like one of his characters, the man couldn’t win as literature, but became too big for sci‐fi. You are reading a story that seems like a plant in the wilderness, an uncanny thing from a world that can be recognised yet is not. As usual, if you allow it, where it grows is a challenge to everyday life. One or two of these originals are on this list, and this, for sure, is one of them.
Project Gutenberg carries about twelve of Philip K. Dick’s early stories.
Thomas M. Disch
Thomas Disch worked many jobs for money… and wrote for magazines, newspapers and, towards the end, online. He started in late SciFi and, despite being better known as a poet, remained a fan and author. Utopia? Never! is a very early short story, and is societal speculation with little trace of SciFi style, though it has a SciFi, or angry young man, plot‐end. What SciFi there is jars a little against the ethos—there’s clearly style and themes in this horror‐shock story that could be worked at length. Suggested alternate title, ‘Utopia, Balderdash!’. The Demi‐Urge is a report by alien civilisation on Earth civilisation, with a twist argument to cram into it’s short length—that perhaps humans are ruled by machines, or are they? Solves the style problem, though traces remain in character‐interaction‐dunderheadedness, and an argument worth pondering.
Only two on Project Gutenberg. I wouldn’t expect more, but don’t confuse quantity with quality.
Cory Doctorow
Cory Doctorow should have a place here. At the time of writing, he is contemporary. Cory Doctorow believes in open software, publishes under commons licences, and you can find his SciFi writing on Project Gutenberg (open licences, yes?). Printcrime is a story of defending digital freedoms for people. It’s written in a pulp fiction style that would be utterly convincing if not for modern social references and modern technology. Nice use of the lead character too.
Thirteen items, says Gutenberg…
Dave Dryfoos
…who the Science Fiction Encyclopedia says was “generally competent”. No further information except he edited a story collection. Uniform of a Man is a short story about one of those Fifties types who is very angry, in this case because he’d been chained to a post for years. Unlikely, and it’s not The Count of Monte Cristo, but yeh, competent.
Eight more on Gutenberg by Dave Dryfoos