Mt. Holz Science Fiction Society
06/05/20 -- Vol. 38, No. 49, Whole Number 2122
Co-Editor: Mark Leeper, *mleeper@optonline.net *
Co-Editor: Evelyn Leeper, *eleeper@optonline.net *
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Topics:
Nebula Award Winners
Will Books Spoil Human Thought? (comments by Mark R. Leeper)
Marco Polo, Bats, and Retro-Hugos (letter of comment
by Taras Wolansky)
Scary Movies (comment by Guy Lillian)
This Week's Reading (A JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR)
(book comments by Evelyn C. Leeper)
===================================================================
TOPIC: Nebula Award Winners
Best Novel: A SONG FOR A NEW DAY by Sarah Pinsker
Best Novella: "This Is How You Lose the Time War" by Amal El-Mohtar
and Max Gladstone
Best Novelette: "Carpe Glitter" by Cat Rambo
Best Short Story: "Give the Family My Love" by A. T. Greenblatt
Ray Bradbury Nebula Award for Outstanding Dramatic Presentation:
GOOD OMENS: "Hard Times" written by Neil Gaiman
Andre Norton Nebula Award for Middle Grade and Young Adult Fiction:
"Riverland" by Fran Wilde
Best Game Writing: The Outer Worlds by Leonard Boyarsky,
Kate Dollarhyde, Paul Kirsch, Chris L'Etoile, Daniel McPhee,
Carrie Patel, Nitai Poddar, Marc Soskin, and Megan Starks
Grand Master: Lois McMaster Bujold
===================================================================
TOPIC: Will Books Spoil Human Thought? (comments by Mark R. Leeper)
I think we have to take a look at how technology is spoiling our
very existence. Technology and time seem to destroy all of the
great arts. And I can tell you when it started to happen. I think
it was the printing press that did us all in. There was a time
when we could appreciate great works of art like the Iliad.
Nowadays who really listens to the Iliad any more? Nobody. And
I'll tell you why. It's that damn printing press.
When the Iliad was first told, that was really something. People
used to wait for weeks, looking forward to hearing it presented.
And what a show it was. The poet would sing it and play the lyre.
You never got tired of it because it was different every time.
Different singers would tell it differently, stressing this aspect
or that. You could really feel you were taking a voyage on that
wine-dark sea. The story really lived for you. Then what
happened? That German guy found a way to take a press and squash
this living thing onto a piece of paper like a bug. Now anybody
can get it smashed onto paper and read it any time. But what have
they got? Is there lyre music to go along with the story? No!
Can the teller read his audience and tailor the telling to the
audience? NO! Are there even any differences from one telling to
the repeat? No way, Jose!
But it just takes one printing press to make hundreds, or thousands
of copies. The power of big money just lets the presses roll. And
there are always chuckleheads who are willing to shell out good
money for this printed abomination. And they get what they
deserve, a lifeless thing on paper.
Look what books are doing to family values. When the poet came to
retell the story of the Iliad, whole families got together to hear
it. It was something the family could do together, to enjoy
together. Now as soon as dinner is over you have the kids going
off to read some book by themselves. You do not even know whThey
are in their own little world, cut off from everybody else.
Parents these days are lucky if they even remember what their
children look like. And who knows what they are reading? Who
knows what ideas are being put in their heads? Oh, we all know that
parents should monitor what books their children are reading, but
how many really do? Let me tell you, some of the things written in
these books shouldn't be shown to a dog, much less an
impressionable child.
Now I want you to try a little experiment. Take your favorite
book, if you have one. Take a funny passage and cut out an "r".
Take a sad passage and cut out an "r". Don't worry about damaging
the book. You cannot damage so worthless a thing; you can only
make it harder to read. Now mix up those two letters "r". Which
was which? You can't tell can you? Your book was printed with
movable type. On the printing press it may even be the same piece
of metal that printed those two letters "r". I can tell you if a
singer sang you the story he would not pronounce those two letters
exactly alike. But the two letters were put on the paper by a dead
piece of metal. Probably it was a piece of lead. The stupid
senseless piece of metal does not know that one of these portions
is so sad and the other is joyously happy. It just knows how to
stamp one letter "r" just like every other letter it has ever
stamped it its whole, long, senseless life.
And what about plays? It is just such a small part of a play that
is what the actors say. There are a hundred different ways to say
a line, but they all write the same way on paper. Try saying
"Hello" as if to your lover. Try saying "Hello" as if to your
worst enemy. Try saying "Hello" as if to your boss. They are
almost three different words. I say almost because once they are
applied to paper they are all identical. "Hello" is "Hello" is
"Hello." That is how the printing press treats them. But you and
I know they are almost entirely different.
The venerated Plato did not trust his great arguments to be put on
paper. What if someone reading them had a question? What if they
wanted to counter argue? They have not a chance. Try arguing with
a piece of paper. Try arguing with a book. And these pitiful
readers think they are in contact with the great Plato by reading
these dead skins, these books.
And still these printing presses roll on and on and on. As long as
there is money to be made promising to sell wisdom and instead
giving people these dead paper things. And the people who profit
from them do not care a bit about how they are affecting the world.
It is all merely a question of profit. The people who spend their
time not seeing the real world but engrossed in these lifeless
paper things, reading these books, they are almost degenerates.
They have lost their humanity and what a poor thing they are
selling out for! I guess we have to get used to technology taking
everything of value from our lives, sucking it dry for profit, and
spitting it out in these lifeless things, this printed form. The
genie is out of the bottle and there is no way to stop it now. But
we don't have to like it.
"Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the
body." --Ecclesiastes 12:12
[-mrl]
===================================================================
TOPIC: Marco Polo, Bats, and Retro-Hugos (letter of comment by
Taras Wolansky)
In response to various comments in the MT VOID, Taras Wolansky
writes:
After Coronavirus and, now, the murder hornet, I have but one thing
to say: Curse you, Marco Polo!!!
Then a bat got into our house, we have no idea how. We eventually
got it to fly out through an open door, without determining whether
it was a sinister virus bat sent by the insidious Doctor WuFlu
Manchu.
In a more serious vein, Wuhan, China is ground zero not just for
COVID-19, but also for an entirely different epidemic. According
to ABC, it is the chief source of chemical precursors for the
manufacture of the illegal narcotic, fentanyl.
Whenever the Retro-Hugos come around, my first action is always to
peruse the relevant year of ISAAC ASIMOV'S GREAT SF STORIES; my
second, to check the SCIENCE FICTION HALL OF FAME. It's a way of
zeroing in on the generally accepted classics of that year.
Here's what I found, this time.
Best Novella:
"Killdozer" by Theodore Sturgeon (Great SF 1944)
Best Novelette:
"Arena" by Fredric Brown (Great SF 1944 & Hall of Fame)
"City" by Clifford D. Simak (Great SF 1944)
"No Woman Born" by C. L. Moore (Great SF 1944)
"When the Bough Breaks" by Lewis Padgett (Great SF 1944)
Best Short Story:
"Desertion" by Clifford D. Simak (Great SF 1944)
"Far Centaurus" by A. E. van Vogt (Great SF 1944)
"Huddling Place" by Clifford D. Simak (Great SF 1944 & Hall of
Fame)
I will probably grant first place in their categories to "Far
Centaurus" and "No Woman Born", in honor of their astonishing
originality--in the context of 1944, of course. Interestingly,
these are the first and last stories, respectively, in the Asimov
best of 1944 collection.
Van Vogt, probably the most influential SF author of World War II
(when Heinlein and DeCamp and the youngster Asimov were doing war
research), I honor for recognizing that the future will be a place
strange to his readers. In the stories collected as MISSION TO THE
STARS, for example, an intergalactic warship with a crew of thirty
thousand is commanded by a woman. In "Far Centaurus", the brave
astronauts who embark on a five-century voyage in suspended
animation wake up to find their descendants regard them as uncouth
primitives who don't even use perfume like civilized men.
When I saw James Cameron's AVATAR (2009), Simak's "Desertion",
about humans abandoning Earth for a blissful life on Jupiter,
immediately came to mind. Judging from Evelyn's description, I see
that Poul Anderson's thematically similar 1957 novelette, "Call Me
Joe", resembles the movie even more closely.
Speaking of James Cameron, John Purcell writes, "TITANIC was
dramatic enough that it did not need a gunfight." Like the movie
SAN ANDREAS (2015), Cameron realized TITANIC needed a blue-collar
hero and a cowardly, upper-class villain. In real life, during the
disaster, the rich people behaved well while the poor people
behaved badly--but who wants to see that.
Finally, Evelyn, I look forward to your continuing explorations of
the DECAMERON. [-tw]
Evelyn responds:
The "Decameron" series of podcasts seemed to have petered out only
halfway through Day Two, but I will be continuing, at least for a
while. I had paused, hoping they would resume, but it's been three
weeks, so I will journey on alone... [-ecl]
===================================================================
TOPIC: Scary Movies (letter of comment by Guy Lillian)
In response to the MT VOID in general and Mark's comments on scary
movies in the 05/01/20 issue of the MT VOID in particular, Guy
Lillian writes in ZINE DUMP #49:
Every week a new issue appears in my inbox, another topic
investigated and propounded upon, well-turned and entertaining
every time. Check out Vol, 38 No. 44 (whole number 2117)--listing
horror films or TV shows that frightened him at certain ages, Mark
mentions two I remember: "The Electrified Man" on CAPTAIN MIDNIGHT
and "Image of Death", the "face on the wall" episode of ONE STEP
BEYOND. Both scared the bejasus out of me when I was a wee tot.
(Reminded that I switched off the former as a kid. I looked it up
on YouTube and finished the show at last.) I'd add "And When the
Sky was Opened", the classic TWILIGHT ZONE with Rod Taylor and Jim
Hutton, as another show that thoroughly freaked me out on first,
pre-adolescent viewing ("someone ... or some thing ... made a
mistake ..."). Poor Ms. Argo--babysitting for me--had to spend an
hour calming me down. Anyway, good stuff each and every week,
deserving of far more recognition than it receives. [-gl]
===================================================================
TOPIC: This Week's Reading (book comments by Evelyn C. Leeper)
A JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR by Daniel Defoe (ISBN 978-0-140-43785-
0) was written about 1665, but sounds so current. I should start
by saying this is fiction, albeit heavily fact-based. (In many
ways, it's one long info-dump.) Pepys for reportage, Defoe for
fiction. Defoe wrote this in response to a resurgence of the
Plague in Marseilles in 1720, because people had forgotten how bad
the Plague could be. Defoe himself was born in 1660, and so was
only five at the time of the Great Plague, but did have some
memories of it, as well as using contemporary reports as a basis of
some of his novel.
Even from the very beginning, we see parallels. Defoe talks about
the official deaths from the Plague, and then notes that what we
now call "excess deaths" were considerably higher, and that
probably most or all of those were attributable to the Plague.
He writes about streets being deserted, and even where there were
people in the streets, they were in walking in the center to avoid
being close to any of the houses.
Unemployment? Servants by the thousands found themselves let go as
their masters closed up their town houses and fled to the country.
Only public charity saves any of them.
People looked for preventatives and cures and "even poisoned
themselves beforehand for fear of the poison of the infection..."
Theaters were closed, and serving food at taverns was forbidden.
(Taverns could stay open for drinking, but there was a curfew.)
People assaulted those in charge of making sure quarantine and
other rules were followed. Those who could afford to do so stocked
up on food and drink and locked themselves within their homes.
People started doing other things as "social distancing". "When
any one bought a joint of meat in the market they would not take it
off the butcher's hand, but took it off the hooks themselves. On
the other hand, the butcher would not touch the money, but have it
put in a pot of vinegar, which he kept for that purpose. The buyer
carried always small money to make up any odd sum, that they might
take no change.. They carried bottles of scents and perfumes in
their hands [their version of hand cleaner], but then the poor
could not do even these things, and they went at all hazards." And
"My Lord Mayor had a low gallery built on purpose in his hall,
where he stood a little removed from the crowd when any complaint
came to be heard, that he might appear with as much safety as
possible."
Not just domestic servants were unemployed. Defoe lists master-
workmen, dock workers, home builders and repairers, merchant
sailors, and so on.
As to the spread, Defoe (or rather, his narrator) makes clear that
it was often spread by those whom we would call "asymptomatic"--or
at least those who had not yet shown symptoms. He also accepted
that material goods could spread the Plague. What he did not seem
to know was the role that fleas played in the spread.
Unlike our current pandemic, the Plague in London seemed to sweep
across the city, starting with the western side. By the time it
reached the eastern side, the west had mostly recovered, and Defoe
says this saved the town, because it meant there were always people
who could perform the essential tasks. However, this has a
parallel in our notion of "flattening the curve": not overwhelming
the hospitals by having everyone sick at once. Ours may not be
geographical in nature, but the concept is the same.
In short, one finds so much of contemporary relevance in A JOURNAL
OF THE PLAGUE YEAR that it is truly startling. [-ecl]
===================================================================
Mark Leeper
*mleeper@optonline.net *
A Higgs boson walks into a church, and the priest says
"I'm so glad you've come--we couldn't have mass without
you."