I just completed several paragraphs when the computer ate it up; so I’ll try again. Man and his Gods by Homer Smith (1952), a medical doctor, and with a preface by Einstein, is a masterful take on the fables we believe in, our religions. Piece by piece he demolishes the fanasty shards they are constructed with. He is calmer than Christopher Hitchens’ god (not a typo) is not Great. Although Hitchens is savage when it comes to Mother Teresa (charlatan), and can make you laugh out loud, Smith demolishes religion in orderly fashion. In fact, I used the book’s title in The i Tetralogy.
The best historical fiction I have ever read was Mary Renault’s The Bull from the Sea and The King Must Die. Renault can describe a gem-encrusted Attic saddle so well that you can cut your palm on its facets. Her prose itself seems to be English prose in Greek style; hard to explain but she is a master of narrative and description and both books are a spell-binding duet.
By way of an introduction. Harlan Ellison is a science fiction writer of the first order. He grew up, I believe, in the Midwest and almost became a felon. He is Jewish, which meant that he was a stranger in a strange land. And he is mentally tough. He is not muscular and all that, but don’t mess. In the sixties Gay Talese wrote an essay about Frank Sinatra, talk about sleaze. I believe it was called “Frank Sinatra has a Cold.” ( Esquire 1966.) Talese was following Sinatra about with his bodyguards some place in Vegas. In any case he comes into a poolroom. At the table is Ellison minding his own business. Sinatra announces to all at large than he wants to play alone and that they should get lost, or words to that effect. Ellison doesn’t move. Sinatra repeats himself. Here i can only give you the essence of what Ellison said: “I don’t know who you are but I’m going to break this cuestick in two and shove one up your fuckin ass and when I’m done I’m going to use the other end to string up your two goons by their nuts.”
And so Sinatra exited. It takes a tough American Jew to make a tender baritone.
You will get a measure of Ellison’s greatness by reading one short story, “I Have No Mouth and I Want to Scream.” I also read one short story, whose name eludes me, that had me in its thrall and the last two words were “Fuck you!” Only Ellison. He looks like Larry King on steroids. His writing is fearless!! That is his appeal to me.
Other short stories that come to mind are, of course, “Metamorphoses” (Kafka); “The Lagoon” (Conrad). Conrad’s short stories are like flowing mercury. “The Burrow,” Kafka again and what an anxiety-ridden tale that is. I believe the fiction writer can learn his craft very well by writing short stories and the ones cited are perfection.
And I would say that Report to Greco was the greatest book I read in mid-life. Why? It made me feel!!
Leave a Reply