First, a bit about Isaac Asimov’s Foundation (1951) from M. Keith Booker’s Monsters, Mushroom Clouds, and the Cold War: American Science Fiction and the Roots of Postmodernism, 1946-1964 (2001), my current history of science fiction read:
Which books/covers/authors in the post intrigue you? Which have you read? Disliked? Enjoyed?
1. It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad Galaxy, Keith Laumer (1968)
Richard Powers’ cover for the 1st edition
Back cover: “This frenetic collection of science fiction stories–often disturbing, always entertaining–comes from outstanding and unpredictable SF author Keith Laumer.
Tingle your imagination: In ‘The Planet Wreckers,’ Jack Waverly goes to bed an ordinary mortal and wakes up a movie star. But the trouble is, his life is the price.
Tired of being a 97-pound weakling? “The Body Builders” has the answer for you: Just buy yourself the Body Beautiful.
Exorcise your hostility! A Certain Powers plans to obliterate “the greatest menace in the world today”–coast-to-coast television, better known as ‘The Big Show.'” [I think the last description is not for a story in the collection. Laumer always had a story title “The Big Show” that appeared in 1968. Maybe they were planning on including it in this collection but substitute something else at the last minute?]
This is the 19th post in my series of vintage generation ship short fiction reviews. I am not entirely sure Fred Saberhagen’s vision exactly fits the definition of a generation ship but it’s so fascinating that I had to share it with you all!
As a reminder for anyone stopping by, all of the stories I’ll review in the series are available online via the link below in the review. And, if you want to work through the reviews from the series from the beginning, here’s my first post from 2019 on Chad Oliver’s “The Wind Blows Free” (1957).
You are welcome to read and discuss along with me as I explore humanity’s visions of generational voyage. And thanks go out to all who have joined already. I also have compiled an extensive index of generation ship SF if you wish to track down my earlier reviews on the topic and any that you might want to read on your own.
After watching the first episode of the new Fallout (2024) adaptation a few nights ago (I like it!), I impulsively decided to push aside all my unfinished reviews and write about two more nuclear gloom tales. I selected two by Robert Bloch (1917-1994), best known as the author of Psycho (1959), whose SF output I’ve only recently started to explore. Both stories are slick satires that use the nuclear scenario to poke holes in the stories we weave about American exceptionalism and progress.
Let’s get to the nightmares!
Richard Powers’ cover for Star, ed. Frederik Pohl (1958)
3.25/5 (Above Average)
“Daybroke” first appeared in the only issue of Star, ed. Frederik Pohl (1958). You can read it online here.
Robert Bloch’s “Daybroke” attempts to convey an encyclopedic glimpse of post-apocalyptic destruction in order to satirize an America that allowed the usage of a nuclear weapon. Despite its appealing structure, the story lacks the prose necessary to sear and burn–the last sentence, well, that you’ll remember.
Which books/covers/authors in the post intrigue you? Which have you read? Disliked? Enjoyed?
1. The Witling, Vernor Vinge (1976)
George Barr’s cover for the 1976 edition
From the back cover: “Witling: A pretender to wit. (Webster’s Dictionary)
In the eyes of the inhabitants of Giri the scientific explorers from outer space were witlings. In the context of that primitive-seeming planet, they were.
Because on Giri a peculiarity of evolution had given a special talent to all living things–and this talent had made unnecessary most of the inventions associated with intelligent life elsewhere. Roads and planes, engines and doors… these were the products of witlings, not of ‘normal’ people.
So when the little band from Earth’s exploration team fell into Giri hands, their problem was unprecedented. How to demonstrate that science is worthwhile and how to keep the medieval masters of Giri from realizing their potential for cosmic mischief.”
What pre-1985 science fiction are you reading or planning to read this month? Here’s February’s installment of this column.
Before we get to books and birthdays and writing plans…
Do you have the inner strength to survive the panic of a nuclear attack? Take a test in the August 21st 1953 issue of Collier’s and find out! Sample question: “HOW DO YOU FEEL WHEN: […] You are alone in an automatic elevator when it stalls between floors?” Possible answers: “I’m not bothered,” “I become tense,” “It jars me badly,” and “I blow up.”
What pre-1985 science fiction are you reading or planning to read this month? Here’s January’s installment of this column.
When I’m not reading science fiction, I’m more often than not devouring history that touches on my decades of focus: 1945-1985. Recently that’s meant lots and lots of monographs on Cold War culture: from fallout shelters, suburbia, to analysis of the drama of morality and terror that characterized nuclear deterrence. And in Guy Oakes’ transfixing The Imaginary War: Civil Defense and American Cold War Culture(1994), I came across a fascinating collision of science fictional thought and public policy.
A few months into Dwight D. Eisenhower’s presidency, the Public Affairs Office of the Federal Civil Defense Administration released a short pamphlet that analyzed the “relation between national will and nuclear terror” under the ridiculous title “Civil Defense Implications of the Psychological Impact and Morale Effect of Attacks on the People of the United States” (April 1953). In this pamphlet, the authors imagine the effects of nuclear war. They suggest that some survivors would “isolate themselves from the terrifying consequences of nuclear war by effecting a pseudo-escape into an interior psychological reality.” I thought immediately of Richard Matheson’s brilliant “Pattern for Survival” (1955), in which a SF author reenacts the process of writing and publishing a story to escape the reality in which he lives. The pamphleteers further imagine a political reality dominated by “mystical sects and cults, enthralled by the vision of an immeasurably happier future in an inner fantasy life of an extramundane kingdom of bliss that transcended the brutal empirical reality of nuclear destruction” (41). Early Cold War policy makers and consultants as science fiction authors!
50s paranoid future visions aside, let’s turn to the books in the photo and what I’ve been reading and writing about.