(Uncredited cover for the 1967 edition)

4.25/5 (collated rating: Good)

Kit Reed has been publishing literary, thought-provoking, and darkly satirical sci-fi + speculative fiction + non-genre fiction since the late 50s… And she is still going strong — her most recent novel Son of Destruction (2012) came out last year.  Reed’s collection Mister Da V. and Other Stories (1967) contains three stories from the late 50s including her first published work, ‘The Wait’ (variant title: ‘To be Taken to a Strange Country’) (1958) and ten others from the 60s.  A few of the stories in the collection are not overtly science fiction — regardless, one could argue that all but ‘I am Through with Bus Trips’ (1967) contain speculative and/or sci-fi elements.

There are superficial differences between the 1967 Faber and Faber edition and the 1973 Berkley Medallion edition.  Because I own the Berkley paperback I’ve gone ahead and followed its chronological story order and page numbers.

A few of the themes/topics of the volume:  Paranoia.  Post-apocalyptic Landscapes.  Youth Gangs.  Dislocation.  Drugged Cities.  Mechanical Toys.  Sinister Retirement Communities.  Rural Ritual.  Obsession.  The Powers of the Media.

Most stories are deceptively simple moral fables that put a twist on everyday family life.  For example, a mother daughter trip in the countryside becomes a sinister nightmare — ‘To Be Taken in a Strange Country’ (variant title: ‘Wait’) (1958). And in ‘At Central’ (1967) a boy’s harmless crush on a television actress causes him to uncover the truth about the world.

‘At Central’ (1967),  ‘The New You’ (1962), and ‘Automatic Tiger’ (1964) are the best of the collection.  They are told with energy and wit and bitterly rip into the heart of things with relentless glee.  Recommended for all fans of literary 50s/60s science fiction.

Brief Plot Analysis/Summary (*some spoilers*)

‘To Be Taken in a Strange Country’ (variant title: ‘Wait’) (18 pages) (1958) 4.25/5 (Good):  A dark and surreal fable in what might be a post-apocalyptical landscape (but perhaps that is a stretch).   A mother and daughter head out on a car trip in order “to reassure themselves that there were other people in the town, in Georgia, in the world” (8).  They arrive at the town of Babylon which appears to be a normal place.  However, the town square is filled with beds under the trees where the ill and dying reside waiting to be cured.   But, there are no doctors… The mother falls ill and doesn’t mind sleeping all day with the other ladies under the trees while various medicines are applied with the half chance that they work.  And the daughter is forced to confront her new world and the wishes of her mother who doesn’t detect (or is purposefully oblivious to) the sinister undercurrents of what is really happening.  The coercive powers of small town life allegorically embodied….

‘Devotion’ (1958) (10 pages) 4/5 (Good):  “Harry Farmer loved his teeth” (24).  He really loves his teeth.  More than anything else in the world.  And the world knows that he loves his teeth and while his friends’ teeth decay and fall out he shows his off with glee.  But everyone must grow old but Harry has a plan to con his friends into believing his teeth are still perfect.  Another slightly fantastic but sinister allegory….

‘The Reign of Tarquin the Tall’ (1958) (16 pages)  4.25/5 (Good):  An unusual assortment of characters — children and thirty-year olds — live together in a house.  Lukey obsesses over his ant colony which he believes is a microcosm of the world “and if doesn’t like the way things are going, he’s going to take an axe and destroy the whole thing — and when he does, that the world will go too, under some bigger axe” (34).  Martin and Leroy play with their play spaceship.   And Tarquin declares himself king of the house and invents rituals of power….  And the truant officer — concerned with the kids in the house who have skipped school — threatens to destroy their strange existence.

‘Ordeal’ (1960) (22 pages) 3.5/5 (Good):  The first overtly science fiction story in the collection concerns a drugged future where most everyone resides in massive cities hooked up to machines which pump happy drugs into the system.  But Dario isn’t interested in living this type of existence — he’s transfixed by the small bands of warriors who wander in-between the cities fighting their increasingly ritualistic battles.  Soon Dario meets Andrew who had previously attempted to join the warrior band.  But there are ordeals of entry to this exclusive group.

‘Judas Bomb’ (1961) (11 pages) 3.5/5 (Good):  A post-apocalyptical future where youth gangs have taken over America.  Few adults remain alive….  And the youth end their lives — often fighting other gangs — by the age of twenty.  Netta is the head of the Hypettes, the female members of the Hypos gang.  Netta and Johnny set out to steal a bomb from a rival gang.  She’s the only one who has a plan…  Despite the heroic intelligent female character whom we root for, the context of her actions and the outcome is purposefully nihilistic.  A march towards inevitable entropy…

‘Piggy’ (1961) (16 pages) 3.75/5 (Good):  In the hands of a lesser writer this story would have been giggle inducing rather than deeply moving.  A mysterious form descends from the sky and impregnates a mare on Theron’s farm.  Theron, a young boy, becomes intensely attached to the offspring of this mating, a strangely proportion/weak/oddly pink horse-like creature named Piggy.  Theron discovers that Piggy, despite its physical ailments, has other properties…  Theron’s father on the other hand is frustrated that Piggy can’t pull a card or plow.  I found this tale moving, and as with many of her others, on the surface deceptively simple.

‘Mister Da V.’ (1962) (14 pages) 4/5 (Good):  The narrator’s father hatches a money-making scheme to create a time machine and bring Leonardo da Vinci to the present.  Instead of showing the world the great man, the father keeps him cloistered upstairs while he writes a book on Leonardo.  The narrator and the narrator’s siblings find ways to communicate with Leonardo and soon he escapes downstairs.  But Leonardo isn’t happy with his existence despite the growing knowledge that many of the marvels did in fact come to fruition.

‘The New You’ (1962) (13 pages) 4.75/5 (Very Good):  One of the best of the collection — this was recently included in Ian Sales’ list of 100 Great Science Fiction Stories by Women (although I would argue that ‘At Central’ is better)…  “Now — The New You” (109) the ad reads.  All you have to do is buy the product and you will be transferred into a new body.  Unfortunately, the old body still remains.  Martha often pretends that she is more desirable and attractive.  She even has conversations with her alter-ego, named Marnie, who possesses all the characteristics Martha wishes she had.  Martha gives in and purchases the product. Marnie walks out of the box svelte, six inches taller, gorgeous, perfectly proportioned…  Marnie and her husband become the center of attention, the talk of the town.  But Martha still lives in the closet, eating chocolate, wandering around.

A virulent and effective condemnation of commonly held conceptions of the relationship between beauty and worth.  A particularly memorable and disturbing moment occurs when Marnie forces Martha to be a maid at their dinner party.  Highly recommended.

‘Automatic Tiger’ (1964) (16 pages) 4.5/5 (Very Good):  Benedict means to get a present for his second cousin but when he brings home the incredibly expensive luxurious automatic, life-like, voice activated Royal Bengal Tiger he keeps it for himself.  The Tiger seems to make Benedict more of a man….  And when they’re out running together he feels powerful, above the law.  Soon he rises in the ranks at his business, successfully solicits his sultry secretary, the microphone that connects him to his tiger almost always around his neck.  But soon he forgets about Ben the Tiger who gathers dust in the corner, whose luxurious whiskers droop and break.  Explores similar themes as ‘The New You.’

‘I am Through with Bus Trips’ (1967) (12 pages) 2.5/5 (Bad):  This contains neither fantastic or speculative elements and is the sole disappointment of the collection.  The narrator, a cheerleader in grade school, wages a war against her history teacher Mr. Armitage.  Rivalries, cheerleaders, football players, etc — not my cup of tea.

‘Golden Acres’ (1967) (21 pages) 4/5 (Good):  Nelda and Hamish leave their home — compelled by their children — and head to a retirement home.  The benefits promised are spectacular including around the clock medical care (and a hospital called The Tower of Hope), nice residences, tons of potential friends, clubs and societies.  But then they arrive they discover that there are stringent rules on bedtimes and dinnertimes.   “No clutter!”  Mr Richardson proclaims sweeping their family photos away from sight….  Nelda and Hamish soon discover Golden Acres’ less golden core — is escape even possible?  A satirical take on our treatment of elders.

‘At Central’ (1967) (12 pages) 5/5 (Near Masterpiece):  The best story in the collection. In an overpopulated future those who are able to procure housing sit in front of their televisions with their doors barred.  Whenever an ad appears the TV’s coin slot guarantees the product is quickly transported to your home.  Want the dinner the actress is eating?  Simply insert coins and the chute will deliver it in no time…  Experience the world through the TV.  Van has a childhood crush on the actress Missy Beaton who winks at him through his personal TV set.  Little does he know that his journey outside in search of Missy Beaton will result in him learning how much the world has changed since they locked themselves inside their rooms to escape the press of the crowds.

‘Janell Harmon’s Testament’ (1967) (10 pages) 3.25/5 (Average):  A vaguely fantastical story about a woman who cleans an immense castle owned by an Italian.  She spends her entire time moving from room to room cleaning — cleaning becomes an obsession.  When she gives birth she fears for the state of the castle….  And the dust that seeps over everything and the smudges and mold and wrinkles and diminishing sparkle of the candlesticks.  She argues that castle, and the work it embodies, compelled her to act violently.

(Vincent Di Fate’s cover for the 1973 edition)

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