Science fiction was entering
its Golden Age as it neared the 1940’s and as John W. Campbell started his revolution.
Campbell insisted that science fiction cast off its super-scientist,
monologue-spewing onus in favor of stories with “real science and real
story, with neither one dominating the other” (Asimov, 10). With plausibility
came realism, dampening the genre’s prior sense of wonder. In response to this
tacit shift of importance, Frederik Pohl brought his own revolution in the 1960’s
with new writers carrying with them “the aura of the university, of science and
engineering, of slide rule and test tube” (Asimov, 13).
Earlier anthologies have always
drawn upon the past for its content and portrayal of subject matter. Here in Dangerous
Visions, all stories had been written for the now under the
discerning editorship of Harlan Ellison so that the Second Revolution (a proper
noun!) can make its impact felt. For the sake of an easy transition from one
Revolution to the next Revolution, Isaac Asimov had been invited to pen not
one, but TWO forewords for Dangerous Visions: the first outlines, as I
have above, the history of science fiction revolution while the second details
the relationship between Asimov and Ellison. The 7-page cursory glance at the
history of science fiction is disappointingly brief, maybe just long enough not
to bore the common reader but detailed enough to sate the appetite of the
sci-fi spelunker. Then, the 3-page history of Asimov and Ellison is the first
indication that the editor, Harlan Ellison, is taking an all-too-personal take
on the anthology, a sensation experienced by the reader which borders on
pretentiousness, arrogance or egocentric. (Though I'm probably guilty of the same crime after writing this review.)
This personal inclusion into
the editorship mars the experience of reading the stories in a pure, subjective
sense. Ellison even pens in the introduction, “Why not let the stories speak
for themselves?” (22). The guts, the actual stories, of the first book of Dangerous
Visions compromise only 64% of the pages (156 of 243). The other 36% of the
book is Asimov’s forewards, Ellison’s own introduction, and each story’s
introduction and afterword. I enjoy some insight into a short story, but
not two or more pages of backslapping… an all-inclusive paragraph or two would
suffice. The authors’ own words in the afterwords are often more enlightening
than Ellison’s introduction to the stories.
This does not mean that Ellison’s
13-page introduction to the anthology is dull, loquacious, or hoity-toity;
actually, it’s insightful into the history of the realm of speculative fiction,
the legitimization of the Revolution, and the making of the anthology. I was
smiling through all of it and I even laughed aloud reading Ellison’s take on a
letter he received from Robert Silverberg: “He signed the letter ‘Ivar
Jorgensen’. But that’s another story” (29).
The original stories were
published in a single volume of Dangerous Visions but were later, in
1969, divided into three volumes for the publisher Berkeley Medallion. In 1974,
Sphere Books reissued the series with their own covers (with differing US and
UK covers). I happen to own the Sphere UK edition.
Without further ado…
------------
del Rey, Lester: Evensong (1967,
shortstory) – 5/5 – An image of man finds solace on a small planet after
fleeing from the Usurpers—mankind itself. The image of man taught the humans
and led them upward even though they are barbaric savages by their very nature.
The one planet he lands on also happens to be the Meeting World, a sacred place
for humanity. Soon, the image of man is tracked down by humankind’s galactic
omnipresence. 5 pages ----- Much like other short, short stories in science
fiction, this story relies on a gradual mystery leading up to a punch at the
conclusion. While most short, short stories are humorous, this story sides with
one of Lester’s penchants. Lester says the story is an allegory but it also
stands by its own merit.
Silverberg, Robert: Flies (1967,
shortstory) – 5/5 – His fellow crewmen killed and his ship disabled, a broken
man is saved and regrown by the Golden Ones on the Saturnine moon of Iapetus.
Going beyond mere repair, they also “improve” the mind of Richard Henry
Cassidy, but the improvement of heightened sensitivity to others’ needs runs
awry back on Earth. Visiting his three ex-wives, Cassidy destroys the very crutch
that each cling to, actions which dismay the Golden Ones, who request Cassidy
to return for adjustment. 11 pages ----- Possibly the FIRST Silverberg story
that I’ve actually enjoyed! I don’t think it’s “most penetrating, most
originally-written” (52) story, as Ellison orates in ink, but it embodies
dichotomous themes: cruel yet humble, emotional yet distant. I don’t think
aliens, like the Golden Ones in Silverberg’s story, could understand the
diversity of human sympathy; Richard could have been exhibiting his own
subjective form of sympathy rather than the objective form which the aliens,
and the vast majority of humanity, expect.
Pohl, Frederik: The Day After
the Martians Came (1967, shortstory) – 4/5 – Mr. Mandala’s hotel’s rooms are
full as are the cots which each room is provided. Based around Cape Canaveral,
Mr. Mandala owes the surge in occupancy to the Mars probe’s hitchhikers—alien
life that resemble droopy dachshunds yet exhibit intelligence. The news crews
occupying the hotel exchange bawdy and racial jokes about the aliens’
existence, which soon unnerve the hotel owner and alters his perceptions of
personal and human sympathy. 8 pages ----- Ellison says the story “handles a
terribly complex problem in the most basic, nitty-gritty terms” (67) but really
Pohl is simply projecting a 1960’s cultural norm onto that of a future
possibility. I don’t think Pohl really went “for the jugular” (68), as Ellison
saith, because the build up to the conclusion is fairly obvious. The impact is
also deadened for the reader in this decade rather than those who had read it
forty-six years ago.
Farmer, Philip José: Riders of the Purple Wage (1967, novella) –
0/5 – Shit. 78 pages ---- I’ve said this time and time again: If a book or
story is loaded with praise, prepare yourself to be disappointed. Here,
Ellison’s praise borders on idolatry, religious reverence: “richness of thought
and excellence of structure … demands of the reader a kind of intellectual
mastication reserved for the best in literature”. This is an absurdly
pretentious statement and reflects the pretentiousness which Ellison includes
in his anthology introduction, each story’s introduction, and the inclusion of
his own story later in the collection. I’m a fan of the bizarre and the
twisted, but when the ludicrous structure, chaotic spasticity, and jumbled
garbage of the story distracts from the core of the plot, I can’t help but
relinquish attention after reading only 20% of the story. I tried, honestly.
I’ve wrapped my head around Heller’s Catch-22, deconstructed Golding’s TheLord of the Flies, swam in the inanity of Murakami’s Hard-boiled
Wonderland, absorbed Dostoevsky’s Memoirs from the House of the Dead,
reminisced with Updike’s Rabbit, Run, and supported the Socialist agenda
of Sinclair’s The Jungle. Farmer’s inclusion in Dangerous Visions 1
offers nothing to the whole because, on the microscopic level, there’s no
substance in the story itself aside from one man’s mental diarrhea and one
editor’s high opinion of himself and his friends. (I’m sure many people love
this story and would consider my own opinion to be ignorant dysentery. Fuck
it.)
deFord, Miriam Allen: The
Malley System (1967, shortstory) – 4/5 – Five individuals live their respective
violent fantasies of rape, assault, murder, amputation, and cannibalism. These
fantasies are repeated into the minds of the same prisoners in 2083, where Lachim
Malley has devised the therapeutic process of numbing the perpetrator’s to
their own crime, thereby lessening the urge to commit the same heinous act
again; however, though there are no repeat offenders, the resulting stability
of the rehabilitated prisoner is in question. 9 pages ----- I’m not sure
whether the reformation of the penal system or the rehabilitation mechanism is
the “dangerous vision” here, but certainly the opening scene of the rape and
murder of a child is… eye-opening. Dark visions of humankind’s inadequacies are
one thing, but this really pushes the envelope. Thankfully, deFord gives the
story a decent structure and legitimizes the barbaric opening scene. This story
isn’t the most dangerous vision in the collection, but it certainly isn’t one for
the faint of heart.
Bloch, Robert: A Toy for
Juliette (1967, shortstory) – 4/5 – Earth’s population has been reduced from
three billion persons to a mere three thousand. The brutality of man is the
course of its own destruction, a brutality which survives in the heart of
Juliette, granddaughter of the owner of the Visitor—a device used to visit the
past. Historical observations are passed over for casual kidnapping, a gift for
his granddaughter in order for her to indulge in her hobby—human torture. 8 pages ----- Ellison indulges himself with
an 8-page introduction for an 8-page story. It’s a dark vision of the future
with a shared penchant of Bloch’s and Ellison’s, but it’s not really a social
struggle or push for reform; the vision is merely a passing whim of
self-interest and disconnected with all the other stories in the collection,
aside from Ellison’s own entry which follows. So, Bloch’s inclusion in this
collection is just a 16-page introduction (8 pages of intro plus 8 pages of
story) for Ellison’s own 24-page novelette.
Ellison, Harlan: The Prowler in
the City at the Edge of the World (1967, novelette) – 3/5 – Retrieved from
1888, Jack the Ripper is confronted with an incomprehensible city and the
unfathomable motivations of the city’s people in 3077. Wiping his memory of its
future experience, the city’s people send him back in order to vicariously
experience the murder and dissection of yet another victim. One man’s enjoyment
piques Jack’s awareness, yanking him back to the future, where his bloodlust is
soon unleashed on the future city. 24 pages ----- I enjoy stories of bloodlust
and murder. I enjoy the dark element of human nature in horror stories versus
the typical supernatural horror in many stories. This isn’t so much a
“dangerous vision” as it is a dark portrayal of a serial killer in the past and
his displacement in the future. It’s also a mere whim of Ellison’s which he
feels deserves a place among the much better stories of Pohl, Silverberg, and
del Ray. I understand that Jack the Ripper is a historical curiosity, but I
don’t feel that the subjectively fanciful subject deserves 47 pages of the
242-page book.
Aldiss, Brian W.: The Night
that All Time Broke Out (1967, shortstory) – 3/5 – Beneath the bucolic English
village of Rouseville sits a massive deposit of time gas. Recently
commercialized, the gas can be piped into one’s own home, such as Tracey and
Fifi have done. Reliving a lobster dinner from the past, a malfunction at the
time gas plant causes them to sickingly experience the flavors of meals in
rapid sequence. The two exhibit childish behavior, due to the time regression,
as the rest of the village sinks through the centuries. 13 pages ----- Perhaps a “dangerous vision”
of the commercialism of nostalgia, the whole story is quite unlike the other
stories in the first volume of Dangerous Visions. “The Night that All Time
Broke Out” is yet another part of Aldiss’s diverse range of short stories, a
diversity best showcased in The Saliva Tree (1965). Ellison’s
introduction is for this story is only 2 pages long, a majority of which is in
Aldiss’s own words. Though only 2 pages long, Ellison mentions once and Aldiss
mentions twice of Aldiss’s recent divorce… perhaps this was his conscious or
unconscious motivation to have his characters of Tracey and Fifi relive their
early days love again; though Tracey hints at his own touch of hebephilia when
Fifi suggests they relive their romance as children. That’s a one line eyebrow
raiser rather than a full blown “dangerous vision”.
At least you liked the Silverberg :)
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