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                        Mt. Holz Science Fiction Society
                    Club Notice - 01/26/01 -- Vol. 19, No. 30

       Chair/Librarian: Mark Leeper, 732-817-5619, mleeper@avaya.com
       Factotum: Evelyn Leeper, 732-332-6218, eleeper@lucent.com
       Distinguished Heinlein Apologist: Rob Mitchell, robmitchell@avaya.com
       HO Chair Emeritus: John Jetzt, jetzt@avaya.com
       HO Librarian Emeritus: Nick Sauer, njs@lucent.com
       Back issues at http://www.geocities.com/evelynleeper
       All material copyright by author unless otherwise noted.

       The Science Fiction Association of Bergen County meets on the
       second Saturday of every month in Upper Saddle River; call
       201-447-3652 for details.  The Denver Area Science Fiction
       Association meets 7:30 PM on the third Saturday of every month at
       Southwest State Bank, 1380 S. Federal Blvd.

       ===================================================================

       1. Every once in a while I read an article that questions some very
       basic assumptions that I have been harboring.  One such article was
       by Phillip Longman in the December 25 issue of U.S. NEWS AND  WORLD
       REPORT.        (A       copy       can       be       found      at
       http://www.usnews.com/usnews/issue/001225/change.htm).          The
       assumption  I  have  made  is  that  technology  and  progress  are
       increasing in speed.  We are getting past the knee of the curve and
       change  will  be  a  part  of  life that will be almost unslowable.
       Longman thinks that really the greatest progress  of  this  century
       was  made  in  the  first  half and that progress is indeed slowing
       down.  He looks at the example of the benign couple  of  Ozzie  and
       Harriet  Nelson  from  a 1950s sitcom and asks would they feel more
       out of place moved fifty years into their past or fifty years  into
       their future?

       The Nelsons, he points out, "had indoor plumbing, electric  lights,
       a   car,   television,  telephone,  refrigerator,  blender,  vacuum
       cleaner, and probably  an  automatic  laundry  washer  and  dryer."
       These  are  all  products of the first half of this century.  These
       are all things that they would do without were they moved  back  to
       1900.   If they were moved instead to the year 2000 they would find
       life a lot like the one they had left.  It would take  them  a  few
       minutes  to  get  used  to  push buttons on a phone, but they could
       drive our cars and use most of our appliances.   Things  have  been
       refined in the second half of the century, but they have not really
       changed all that much.  At least that is his argument.

       In fact, Longman  is  probably  right,  though  his  arguments  are
       faulty.   Disorientation  is  not a proper measure.  One can always
       move fifty years into the future and  just  not  make  use  of  the
       latest  inventions.   Members  of  my  wife's  family are extremely
       change-adverse and live a life that  essentially  they  could  have
       lived  fifty  years  ago.   Virtually  nobody  is forced to use the
       Internet, but it has brought some major changes.  Ozzie and Harriet
       in the 21st century would not know how to make use of the Internet,
       but they could quickly learn what it was and that it was out there.
       It  is  true that if they were moved back in time fifty years there
       is a lot they would miss, but there is a lot  we  would  miss  also
       going  instead  from 2000 to 1950.  Not the least of which would be
       some antibiotics and polio vaccine.  Comparing disorientation going
       forward and backward is comparing apples and oranges.

       But Longman's errors are correctable without negating his point.  I
       have  to  believe that it would be a much worse punishment to force
       the Nelsons to live in 1900 than to force me to live in 1950.  This
       would  put  them  on  the  nasty  side  of the post-W.W.I influenza
       epidemic.  Medicine was much improved in the  first  half  of  this
       century  and  much  more  slowly  advanced  in the second half.  As
       Longman points out, life  expectancies  were  much  extended.   The
       extension  of  life in the second half of the century has come much
       slower.

       There are a lot of places where  we  have  lost  the  technological
       ability  or  "recipe" to do what we once could.  Much of the reason
       for that is economic.  If New York  City  did  not  have  a  subway
       system  to  this  point,  it  would  probably  never get one of the
       current complexity and capacity.  We proved we could go to the moon
       in the 1960s, but then we lost the ability.  If we had to put a man
       on the moon as soon as possible, it is not at all clear we could do
       it  with  even  ten  years' notice.  The economic cost, I have been
       told, would be far greater.  We probably would not have the resolve
       to  expend  the resources necessary.  We may well be a civilization
       that has hit its prime and is now falling  backward.   As  a  third
       example  Longman  points  out  that  the  fastest one can cross the
       Atlantic has just gotten  a  lot  slower  with  the  death  of  the
       commercial supersonic transport.

       Next week I will return to this rather sobering concept with a look
       at the implications.  [-mrl]

       ===================================================================

       2. 2000: Some Thoughts on a Year of Reading (book reviews by Evelyn
       C. Leeper):
       I haven't done much reviewing of individual  books  this  year,  so
       this  is  in  the  way  of  compensating  by  hitting  some  of the
       highlights (and perhaps lowlights) of what I've read.  Most are not
       books  first  published  in  2000 (they go back over 2000 years, in
       fact).  And to your great relief, I'm not covering all 157 books  I
       read (split fairly evenly among science fiction, other fiction, and
       non-fiction).

       The most interesting science book I read  was  a  2000  book:  Matt
       Ridley's  "Genome."   Each  of  the  23 chapters covers a gene on a
       different chromosome, but Ridley talks  a  variety  of  approaches:
       sometimes historical, sometimes medical, sometimes chemical.

       An unclassifiable book is Roger  Bruns's  "Almost  History,"  which
       consist  of  speeches  never  given,  paths  never taken, and other
       ahistorical wanderings.  For example, there is Eisenhower's  (real)
       speech  to  be given if D-Day failed, but there is also some rather
       pointless speculation about  whether  or  not  Mrs.  O'Leary's  cow
       started the Great Chicago Fire.  Interesting, if a mixed bag.

       Simon Schama's "History of Britain" is clearly  history,  and  only
       suffers  by comparison to the television series, which is basically
       an illustrated audio abridgement.  Schama writes with a lot of  wit
       and  humor,  and  this comes through far better when you *hear* the
       words spoken.

       I had read Jorge Luis Borges's "Selected Fictions" last year;  this
       year  I  continued  with  his "Selected Non-Fictions."  Some of the
       articles I had seen before, but many were new to  me,  particularly
       Borges's  book  and film reviews.  I also went on a John Sutherland
       binge, reading "Henry V, War Criminal?," "Where Was Rebecca Shot?,"
       and  "Who  Betrays  Elizabeth  Bennett?"  The first was co-authored
       with someone else who  wasn't  nearly  as  good  at  analyzing  the
       literary  puzzles and questions as Sutherland.  The one problem, of
       course, is that unless you've read the work being dissected  in  an
       essay,  you  won't  appreciate  the analysis, but Sutherland sticks
       pretty much to the canon.  ("Where Was  Rebecca  Shot?"  does  move
       into more modern works.)

       I re-read Helene Hanff's "Q's Legacy."   (I  tend  to  re-read  her
       books a lot.)

       Borges is one of my two favorite fantastic authors;  the  other  is
       Olaf  Stapledon,  and so I read Robert Crossley's biography of him,
       "Olaf Stapledon: Speaking to  the  Future,"  as  well  as  "Talking
       Across  the  World,"  the  collection  of  letters  written between
       Stapledon in England and France and his  cousin  Agnes  (who  later
       became  his  wife)  in Australia throughout World War I.  Stapledon
       served as an ambulance driver at the  front,  and  his  letters  do
       convey  some  of the horror of that war, and serve as a good way to
       understand his biography as well.
       Other books of a biographical nature  included  Homer  H.  Hickham,
       Jr's  "Rocket Boys" (made into the movie "October Sky").  One thing
       that struck me was how the events in the  movie  that  seemed  most
       unlikely  were  real, and also to see what changes were made.  (One
       obvious one was changing his father's name--it's confusing in films
       for  two  characters  to have the same name.)  I recommend both the
       book and the movie.

       Clara Solomon's "Civil War Diary" interested me because it  is  the
       only  such diary I know of written by a Jew.  And speaking of Jews,
       Fred A. Bernstein's "Jewish Mothers' Hall of Fame" is  of  interest
       here  because  one  of  the mothers interviewed was Rosalyn Yalow's
       mother (or Ben Yalow's grandmother).

       Segueing  into  fandom,  Camille  Bacon-Smith's  "Science   Fiction
       Culture"  is  a  definite Hugo contender (it was first published in
       2000) and well worth reading.  It also mentions Ben.

       Drifting into another aspect of  science  fiction,  I  also  really
       recommend  Tom Weaver's "Return of the B Science Fiction and Horror
       Heroes."  This  is  an  omnibus  trade  paperback  reprint  of  the
       McFarland  Press  two-volume hardback, and at $35 (versus somewhere
       around  $120  for  the  hardback),  it's  a  great   buy.    Weaver
       interviewed  dozens  of  actors,  actresses,  and  crew  from 1950s
       science fiction and horror movies, and some  of  the  stories  they
       tell  are  hysterical.  (For example, the man who played Blonde Boy
       in "Teenage Caveman" also played the bear and another character  as
       well  in  the  same  movie,  but his best story is about the bear's
       death scene.)

       Harry M. Benshoff may go a little overboard  in  "Monsters  in  the
       Closet,"  seeing  every use of the words "gay" and "queer" in 1930s
       films as indicative of some underlying homosexual  subtext,  but  I
       have  to  say  that  after reading it, you will never look at these
       films the same way again.  Oddly enough, as Benshoff moved  forward
       in  time  to more obvious references in films, the book became less
       interesting.

       As always, I read some Shakespeare.  There was  "Titus  Andronicus"
       (before seeing "Titus") and "King Edward III" (after it was decided
       he wrote  it--not  one  of  his  better  efforts.   I  also  highly
       recommend  "Titus,"  which I had thought was a 1999 film, but Roger
       Ebert's mention of it on his 2000 list makes me wonder if I  should
       try  nominating  it  for  a Hugo again.  I also re-read Euripides's
       "Electra" after seeing the movie on cable.  Arnold Wesker's  "Birth
       of  Shylock  &  The  Death  of  Zero  Mostel"  would have been more
       meaningful if I had seen or read  Wesker's  play  "Shylock"  (which
       folded  on  Broadway  after  its star, Zero Mostel, died on opening
       night).  Re-writing "The Merchant of Venice" was not  original  (so
       to  speak)  with  Wesker,  though--George  Granville  did  it three
       hundred years ago with "The Jew  of  Venice,"  which  steals  lines
       shamelessly from Shakespeare.

       It was the year of the series.  I read books two  through  four  of
       the  "Harry  Potter"  series,  and  enjoyed  them.   I  read  S. M.
       Stirling's "Nantucket" series ("Across the Sea of  Time,"  "Against
       the Tide of Years," and "On the Oceans of Eternity") and found that
       one can have too much of a good thing.  I also  read  Eric  Flint's
       "1632"  and found myself in the midst of "Duelling Time Travelers"-
       -a  seeming  argument  about  whether  Nantucket  Yankees  or  West
       Virginia  coal  miners  were  better  prepared to have their entire
       community flung back in time.  (Jerry Sohl had already been  there,
       done  that,  and been forgotten before either of them.)  As part of
       my "I shall read no trilogy before its time"  policy,  I  read  the
       last  two  Stirling  books  back-to-back, and had the worst of both
       worlds: I had difficulty remembering the details of the first  book
       after a year, and tired of the third before I finished it.

       Another trilogy was  Philip  Pullman  "His  Dark  Materials"  ("The
       Golden  Compass,"  "The  Subtle  Knife," and "The Amber Spyglass").
       Again I read all  three  together,  and  again,  it  grew  somewhat
       wearisome  towards  the  end.   However,  I  have  to say that I am
       astonished by the notion that an author actually sold a young adult
       trilogy  based on apparently Gnostic theology, and promoting a very
       negative image of God  and  organized  religion.   ("Harry  Potter"
       pretty much side-steps the whole issue of religion.)

       And speaking of negative images of God, James Morrow  has  finished
       his  triptych  with "The Eternal Footman."  Unfortunately, it's not
       quite up to "Towing Jehovah" or "Blameless in  Abaddon."   (And  he
       puts the toll booths on the Tappan Zee Bridge at the wrong end.)

       Actually, there seems to be arising trend  to  get  details  wrong.
       Robert Charles Wilson, in one of the stories in "Perseids and Other
       Stories," completely misstates what  I  think  is  supposed  to  be
       Goldbach's Conjecture ("Every even number greater than 2 is the sum
       of two primes.") as "Two primes always add up to an  even  number."
       (Hint:  If  one  of the primes is 2, and the other not, they don't.
       Otherwise, you're adding two odd or two even numbers, so of  course
       the  sum  is  even.)  And James Stevens-Arce's "Soulsaver" says the
       low thirties Centigrade are  the  high  nineties  to  low  hundreds
       Fahrenheit.   (The  last  could,  I  suppose, be written off as the
       ignorance of the first-person narrator.)

       In spite of its gaffe, I recommend  the  Wilson  collection,  which
       contains    three   never-before-published   stories--think   Hugo.
       "Soulsaver" is set in Puerto Rico a hundred years in the future, at
       which  time  a  Christian  dictatorship  has  taken over the United
       States.  It's difficult to tell whether it's Protestant,  Catholic,
       or  what.   In  Puerto Rico, at least, there is still confession et
       al, but the general trappings seem more Protestant-based, there  is
       a  minor  character named "Father Luther," there are women priests,
       and so on.  The first three-quarters or so  are  really  good,  but
       then  it  descends  into  a  stock  series  of revelations, and yet
       another gaffe, harder to explain away, involving time and timing.

       Speaking of Puerto Rico, I enjoyed all of Rosario Ferre's "House on
       the Lagoon," a multi-generational story starting around the turn of
       the century (1900, that is).  I read the  English  translation  (by
       Ferre  herself),  while I gave my father the Spanish version.  (For
       both these recommendations, I suppose  I  should  mention  that  my
       father  is from Puerto Rico, so I have a particular interest in the
       island.)

       As a nod to the end of the century, I read several books written  a
       while  ago,  but  set  in  2000.   The most well-known was probably
       Edward Bellamy's "Looking Backward: 2000-1887" (written  in  1888),
       but the most interesting was John Jacob Astor's "A Journey in Other
       Worlds" (written in 1894).  Involving anti-gravity and a voyage  to
       other  planets,  it  reads  more like a Jules Verne adventure novel
       than a realistic look at what the future might be.  It  is  out  of
       print but available on-line, complete with the nifty illustrations.

       I  read  the  various  Hugo  nominees,  and  my  choice  was   Neal
       Stephenson's "Cryptonomicon."  I'm not going to argue as to whether
       it is science fiction, but just say that to me it was.

       I re-read Arturo Perez-Reverte's  "Club  Dumas"  after  seeing  the
       movie  "The  Ninth  Gate."  Though the movie was based on the book,
       the entire Dumas plot was removed, rather necessitating  the  title
       change.   I  recommend  them both, though the character Johnny Depp
       plays in the movie is a rather bizarre  interpretation  of  a  rare
       book dealer.  (I don't know of any book dealers who would examine a
       valuable 16th century book while drinking whiskey and *smoking*!)

       Mike Ashley has edited a whole series of mystery anthologies set in
       the  past  (including  "Shakespearean  Detectives"  and  "Classical
       Whodunnits").  The latest I have read is  "Historical  Detectives,"
       which is a good sampling of authors and eras.

       William Sleator's "Rewind" seemed very much a children's (or  young
       adult)  version  of  the  ever-popular  "Replay"  by  Ken Grimwood.
       ("Replay" also seemed to have inspired the movie "Groundhog Day"  a
       few years ago.)

       Joe Haldeman's "The Coming" is proof that you don't need to write a
       doorstop.   At  216  pages,  it  conveys a feeling for the time and
       place of the story, creates characters, tells a  story,  and  ends.
       The  style  is  quite  interesting,  and  possibly  one  reason why
       Haldeman wanted to  keep  it  short:  there  are  no  abrupt  scene
       changes.   That  is  to say, if he is writing about character A and
       wants to have the next scene be about  character  B,  he  ends  the
       scene with the two characters interacting, or at least intersecting
       in some way.  It's easier to express this cinematically: the  story
       is shot in a single take.  (There are time lapses allowed, however,
       but only within a single chapter and with a single character.)

       And in short fiction, seek out Ted Chiang's  "Seventy-Two  Letters"
       in  the  anthology "Vansihing Acts" (edited by Ellen Datlow).  (Has
       Chiang ever written a bad story, or even one that was  just  okay?)
       If  you liked James Alan Gardner's "Three Hearings on the Existence
       of  Snakes  in  the  Human  Bloodstream"  or  Richard   Garfinkle's
       "Celestial  Matters," you'll probably like this one.  It's not just
       an alternate history, but a  science  fiction  story  set  in  that
       world.  [-ecl]

                                          Mark Leeper
                                          HO 1K-644 732-817-5619
                                          mleeper@avaya.com

           Stay clear of anyone who refers to God more than 	   once an hour.
                                          -- Roger Rosenblatt


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