A Scintillating Scentury Of SciFi And Fantascy!

I’m reading my way through the science fiction and fantasy of the twentieth century. Here’s why:

Like you, I have a homemade time machine in my basement. But, to me, time travel is like surfing the Internet. Unless I’m looking for something specific, I tend to wander aimlessly, lost, confused and barred by Niven’s Law* from altering history in any way. Jaunt after pointless jaunt into the past got me wondering about which time was truly the best to visit. 

For answers, I decided to hunker down and do a little reading.

Specifically, I have decided to read one work of science fiction published in each year of the twentieth century, beginning with 1900**. The books will be chosen at random and read non-chronologically, their merit carefully considered and then given a grade on a scale relevant to their content.

Some reviews will be pithy and insightful. Others will be uninspired. One will contain the word ‘falanaka’and will leave the reader wondering if it has been used correctly.

With each year of C20 represented by a book, the best book will ergo determine the best year, and I can set the coordinates of my time machine accordingly. And that’s when I’ll live, happy at last.

Stay attuned.

 

*During his Oscar acceptance speech for Best Actor in 1958’s Separate Tables, actor David Niven wittily surmised that “If the universe of discourse permits the possibility of time travel and changing the past, then no time machine will be invented in that universe.”

 **I know, I know. But it seems like a good place to start. A nice, round year.

1930: Last And First Men by Olaf Stapledon

A mind-blowing future history of humanity, beginning in the present day and ending in the year 200,000,000. You think cramming for a test on the War Of 1812 is hard? Try writing 200,000,000 years of cheat notes on your arm. This book is an unsung literary sci-fi gem, but not for long, because I wrote a song about it: Gimmie a bouncy C! Hello? Where’s that guy I hired to play the piano? What do you mean he doesn’t work on Sundays? Fuckin’ pianists union. Dense, long-winded, but recommended.

On a scale of Toronto mayors ranging from Rob Ford to David Miller, this book is: Mel Lastman. 

Last one in existence please put the chairs up.

1980: The Magic Labyrinth by Philip Jose Farmer

The fourth installment in Farmer’s Riverworld series, wherein the source of the alien power that has resurrected all of humanity (we’re like the stock market – one minute we’re down, then we’re up!) on a distant planet is finally discovered. SPOILER ALERT: it was aliens with a resurrection machine. They wanted to test Earthlings’ morality, and we failed said test, scoring just above an immoral species of flatworm from Antares IV which befriends you only so it can bang your sister. Also, the clocks go ahead this weekend, so remember to change the batteries in your spoiler-alerter.

On a scale of famous labyrinths ranging from the Pac Man board to Minotaur’s hideout, this book is: the hedge maze from ‘The Shining’.

RIP, PJF.

1920: A Voyage To Arcturus by David Lindsay

An Earthman travels to a distant star where he meets strange beings and engages in lengthy discussions about reality, morality and the veracity of various philosophical systems. And I’m all like, “Enough jib jabberin’! Break out the lasers!” Sadly, the lasers remained sealed in their blister packs throughout the novel. Literary critic Harold Bloom loved this book so much he wrote a sequel to it, which is indicative of how boring it is. If you don’t know who literary critic Harold Bloom is, Google him. Look at his sour, pompous, fish-like puss and ask yourself if you’d ever want to read anything he recommended, ever.

On a scale of doomed voyages ranging from the Challenger to the Titanic, this book is: a car ride where you get stuck in traffic.

Stay home.

1960: The High Crusade By Poul Anderson

A medieval village is transported to a technologically-advanced planet, where 12^th century weaponry and terrestrial cunning miraculously defeat hoards of laser-toting aliens. This book proves that Earth is the USA of the galaxy – EARTH! EARTH! EARTH! – because we kick ass and take names. And that ain’t easy, because alien names are hard to spell, and our limited knowledge of xenobiology often makes finding their asses difficult. Recommended.

On a scale of medieval weapons ranging from the misericorde to the scramaseax, this book is: the zweihander.

Cheech and Chong's favourite book. Because, you see, they like marijuana.

1970: The Ultimate Threshold edited by Mirra Ginsburg

I can sum up this anthology of Russian scifi stories in one word: дрянной. With a capital ‘д’. Most of them are written by and told from the point of view of scientists who, despite their depiction on NBC’s Scientists In The City as promiscuous, self-narrating singles who sip cosmopolitans from Erlenmeyer flasks and wear $30 Manolo Blahnik arch-support loafers, aren’t as thrilling and sexy as you may think. This makes for what I call a ‘burnt toast book’: edible but dry. Pass the butter.

On a scale of guys ranging from to Aiden to Big, this book is: Berger.

The Ultimate Threshold of BOREDOM, maybe. Snap!

1990: Only Begotten Daughter by James Morrow

Having gotten over humans crucifying Jesus, God decides to send another messiah to Earth. But this time, it’s a woman. Not only that, but Morrow infers that God Herself is a She. A female God? Sounds crazy but he might be right; God is demanding, prone to frightening emotional outbursts and no man can make Her happy! Rim shot. I guess the Eleventh Commandment would be ‘Thou shalt not leave the toilet seat up’! Double rim shot.  Vagina! Goodnight everybody. Highly recommended.

On a scale of miracles Jesus performed ranging from turning water into wine to driving demons from a pig, this book is: that time He made the Statue Of Liberty disappear.

‘God’ is ‘cat’ spelled with different letters.

1900: The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz by L. Frank Baum

So enamoured are we with the film adaptation of this book that we forget how utterly fucked up the original story is. Within its pages are a beheading, a heroin-induced coma, a sociopathic android, a poisoned dildo and the megalomaniacal, self-crowned ruler of an enchanted city who keeps order through fear, deception and sorcery.  Okay, not the dildo, but still. Of course, when you think about what the children of 1900 were doing – working in factories, eating laudanum, losing their sight in smelting accidents – this book makes sense. Kids back then were tough, and needed stories to match, When’s the last time Dora The Explorer fought her way out of a heroin-induced coma? Never. Because, in addition to having a pussy, she also is one.

On a scale of people from Oz ranging from Beecher to Schillinger, this book is: Adebisi.

I read it while I was high, now I have the Munchkins.

1950: Cosmic Engineers by Clifford D. Simak

A super-intelligent alien race summons species from throughout the galaxy to a meeting. The topic of discussion is how to prevent the imminent collision of our universe with another, and hence the destruction of life and reality as we know it. Now, you’re probably wondering the same thing I was: will breakfast be served at this meeting? If not, we should stop and get something on the way. Also, where’s the bathroom for Earthlings? We can’t all recycle our urine like the floating zqxkj plants from Anteres Perseii 8, you know. Also, is this book any good? No. It is not.

On a scale of things cosmic engineering students do to freshmen during frosh week ranging from writing on them when they pass out to making them wear a dress to class, this book is: forcing them do the crabwalk with a marshmallow up their ass, and if they drop it, they have to eat it.

Simak my bitch up.

1940: Final Blackout by L. Ron Hubbard

Few founders of religions were as skilled and prolific authours as L. Ron Hubbard. Jesus wrote one book, and He’s been milkin’ it for two thousand years. Bhudda scribed some semi-pithy stuff, but nothing I’d buy in hardcover. And while Te Kooti Arikirangi Te Turuki’s series of novels about teenage babysitters who also run a detective agency is passable, it’s mostly ghostwritten by Muhammad Subuh Sumohadiwidjojo. Hubbard’s the way to go. And if you’re going with Hubbard, give Final Blackout a try.

On a scale of famous Scientologists ranging from Edgar Winter to Tom Cruise, this book is: Beck.

In Mexico they call him ‘El Ron Hubbard’.

1901: The First Men In The Moon by H.G. Wells

Before H.G. Wells became morbidly obese and started doing wine commercials, he wrote this book, in which two 19^th century Londoners journey to our nearest celestial neighbor. A celestial neighbor, by the way, is good to have when you leave Earth on vacation and need someone to water your plants. Anywho, they discover a highly complex society living beneath the barren lunar surface, like we all kinda knew they would. With its blend of spirited adventure and heady social commentary, The First Men In The Moon is a story everyone can enjoy. Well, almost everyone; conspiracy theorists believe this entire book was a hoax staged by the Nixon administration to draw attention away from the war in Vietnam. Recommended.

On a scale of people mentioned in the Neil Diamond song ‘Done Too Soon’ ranging from Genghis Khan to Ho Chi Minh, this book is: H.G. Wells.

In your face, Armstrong!

1911: The Lair Of The White Worm by Bram Stoker

Synopsis: an ancient subterranean worm and its human familiar terrorize the English countryside. For the authour of Dracula, this book isn’t very good. Besides being ploddingly slow, it teems with that ol’ fashioned racism early 20^th century writers were so free with. Stoker refers to the novel’s lone black character Oolonga (that’s right; the black guy’s name is ‘Oolonga’) as a ‘nigger’ who is ‘a clever fellow – for a nigger’. This kind of rabid intolerance is hard to stomach in any forum, fictional or otherwise. Of course Stoker, being Irish, was too drunk and stupid to know better.

On a scale of stereotypes ranging from Sony to RCA, this book is Poopsounders (‘Poopsounders: When It Has To Sound Like Shit!’)

Don’t hate the lair, hate the worm.

1921: The Blind Spot by Austin Hall and Homer Eon Flint

A group of people discover a dimensional portal which leads them to a dimension peopled by people from another dimension. And that previous sentence is better written and more interesting than this entire novel.  Damon Knight once said The Blind Spot has ‘no recognizable vestige of merit’, so I too denounce it. Not that I do everything Damon Knight tells me to, I just happen to agree. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to pick up Damon Knight’s dry cleaning and vacuum his car, which is weird, because he’s dead.

On a scale of how traffic accidents happen ranging from talking on your cell phone while you’re driving to icy roads, this book is: not checking your blind spot.

The upside of being blind? You’d never have to read this book.

1931: Spacehounds Of IPC by E.E. Smith

A brawny space hunk and coquettish space gal become stranded on Jupiter. Despite their close quarters, mutual attraction and torn, revealing clothing, they manage to hold their instincts in check until they’re rescued and can be married by a space captain. Although corny, this book is a quaint throwback to the days when grown men and women apparently lacked genitalia of any kind. Today, of course, teens stranded on Jupiter are involved in rainbow parties, borealis bangs and other meteorological sex acts at no older than fourteen. And that’s just hot wrong.

On a scale of space operas ranging from Space Tosca to The Magic Space Flute, this book is: The Barber Of Seville, And Also Of Space.

Yeah, you know me!

1941: The Case Of Charles Dexter Ward by H.P. Lovecraft

Through the use of magic, alchemy, corpse theft and the Konami code, Charles Dexter Ward resurrects a long-dead ancestor. This ancestor then proceeds to bore him with stories about how necromancy used to be done in good ol’ days.  I’ve always thought necromancy is a ‘gateway’ magic, not because it leads to eviler magic, but because it literally opens a gateway through which Yog-Sothoth can enter our world. And once he’s here, he crashes on your couch for, like, three months, drinks all your beer and won’t leave. While T.C.O.C.D.W. is great for hardcore Lovecraft lovers, H.P. noobs might want to stick to his shorter works. This one employs too much obfuscating language.

On a scale of famous cases ranging from The Case Of The Distressed Lady to The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button, this book is: a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

‘It rubs the lotion on its skin.…’

1951: Foundation by Isaac Asimov

When the Galactic Empire threatens to collapse (Galactic termites in the rafters) the sum knowledge of the universe is taken to a planet which will serve as the ‘Foundation’ of a brand new empire. Y’see how the title ties back to the content? Clever. This book made me realize I hate Isaac Asimov. I’ve always hated him, but I’ve been too afraid of what people would say if they found out, so I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. But now I’m saying it loud: I hate Asimov and I’m proud! Out of the closet and into the streets! But not the street where the store that sells Isaac Asimov’s books is, because his writing is gay! Also, I don’t care for the Beatles.

On a scale Village People members ranging from the cowboy to the construction worker, this book is: the accountant.

ScifiScentury Fun Fact: Isaac Asimov died of AIDS.

1961: Solaris by Stanislaw Lem

A sentient ocean on a distant planet invades the minds of visiting space-o-nauts and brings their innermost thoughts and memories to life. Which begs the question: where’s a sentient ocean when I’m thinking of a tuna sandwich on rye, or remembering that one keg party in university? You know – the one where that chick flashed us from her dorm window and we drew on Skeeter’s ass when he passed out? Can you believe Skeeter’s a lawyer with two kids now? Crazy!

On a scale of scary bodies of water ranging from Dead Moose River, MN, to Murder Bay, DC, this book is: Skeleton Lake, Alberta.

"You make me wet."

1971: To Your Scattered Bodies Go by Philip Jose Farmer

Every human who ever lived is resurrected along the banks of a mysterious river where they are fed, clothed and made impervious to death by an outside force beyond comprehension. That’s on page three. From there, the authour pits a reanimated Sir Richard Burton against a revived Hermann Goring as the two of them compete for supremacy and understanding of a paradise that may be anything but. If scifi is a what if? genre, then Farmer is a why not? writer, bound by no convention whatsoever. Recommended, if only for the sheer bravado of subject matter and storytelling.

On a scale of things that come back to life ranging from the African lungfish to Jesus, this book is: zombie John Dillinger.

There was a Farmer wrote a book, and Philip was his name-o.

1981: Out Of The Everywhere by James Tiptree, Jr.

James Tiptree writes like a girl, because he was one. Alice Bradley Sheldon assumed a male nom de plume to avoid the discrimination faced by female writers in the early days of scifi (it was not uncommon, for example, to see a leering Isaac Asimov chasing a busty, short-skirted Ursula K. Leguin repeatedly around a desk while imploring her to ‘prove you’re not a robot, sugar pie’). But as this excellent anthology shows, any fear Tiptree had about not being taken seriously was unfounded; her scifi hammer hangs lower than most male writers’. Highly recommended.

On a scale of famous men who were really women ranging from Pope Joan to Billy Tipton, this book is: Samus Aran.

Published in Canada as 'Oot Of The Everywhere'.

1991: The Bradbury Chronicles: Stories In Honor Of Ray Bradbury edited by William F. Nolan and Martin H. Greenberg

Reading Bradbury’s short story catalogue is like taking a highly-addictive, euphoria-inducing drug. It’s a glorious, almost spiritual experience while it lasts. But there’s a limited supply, and eventually you run out. In desperation, you buy some Asimov from a guy you don’t really know and read it by yourself in the bathroom at the bus station. Soon you’re watching Will Smith in I Robot through half-closed eyes and telling yourself you can stop any time you want. The Bradbury Chronicles is like methadone for everyone jonesin’ for more of the master’s works; a series of stories that aren’t the real thing, but will tide you over until you can get some help. Recommended.

On a scale of Bradbury-related withdrawl symptoms ranging from Dandelion Wine D.T.’s to S Is For The Shakes, this book is: A fever of Fahrenheit 451.

Some primo stuff.

1902: The Purple Cloud by M.P. Shiel

After a ‘plague cloud’ 86’s humanity, the last (and most boring) man on Earth traverses the globe waxing philosophical about life, art, architecture, love, and the best brand of wax for waxing philosophical (I prefer Lemon-Scented Heideggerian Pledge, myself). The cover of this book claims it’s a ‘towering masterpiece’, but they must’ve been thinking of the World Trade Centre, because it’s a smouldering disaster of story.

On a scale of clouds ranging from Cumulus to Cirrus, this book is: Cumulonimbus. 

This book was an inside job.

1912: Tarzan Of The Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs

When Eddie Riceburger created Tarzan, he wanted nothing more than to couch the notion that blacks are cannibalistic savages and whites are the representatives of all things decent and humane in a simple story everyone could enjoy. Nearly a century later, we’re still witnessing the effects of the titular character’s popularity in everything from Ravi Shankar’s hilarious novelty song ‘Sitarzan’, to Tarzan brand nostril groomers (“Because It’s A Jungle In There!”). That being said, this book is boring as hell and hard to follow without a Phil Collins soundtrack.

On a scale of writers with three names ranging from Louisa May Alcott to Bret Easton Ellis, this book is: John Knowles.

Welcome to the jungle! (Seriously. There's vines and stuff.)

1922: The Worm Ouroboros by E.R. Eddison

The book is a doozy; 450 pages of arcane high-fantasy prose denser than Oprah’s pubic hair and just as daunting. But if you’ve got the time and patience to push through, it’s worth it. Eddison describes everything from the story’s characters to what they wear to how they fight to what they eat in highly intricate but engrossing detail, and the plot is intricate as hell. By the end it’s like you’re really drunk at an awesome party: you don’t remember where you are, who anyone is or what’s going on, but you don’t care, because you’re having such a great time and no one suspects it was you who pooped in the upstairs bathtub. Recommended for hardcore fantasy buffs.

On a scale of breakdance moves ranging from the Coffee Grinder to the Worm, this book is: the One Arm Elbow Air Flare.

Are you Stedman (or Gail) enough to handle it?

1932: Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

This timeless classic (kids today refer to it as ‘BNW’ in chat rooms) is set in an idyllic future London where breeding is carefully controlled and the population is kept placated with sex and drugs. Sex and drugs in swingin’ London? Sounds like a groovy scene, baby, yeah! This utopia is shattered, however, when a man known as ‘The Savage’ visits it and exposes the falsehood of its so-called perfection. Exposing your falsehood sounds shagadelic baby, yeah! This novel is rich in imagery and symbolism; as far as I can tell, The Savage represents either a harsh reminder of humankind’s self-imposed exile from the natural world, or ‘Macho Man’ Randy Savage. Both are pretty scary. Oh, behave!

On a scale of Aldous Huxley’s nicknames ranging from ‘Huck’ to ‘A to the H’, this book is: ‘Dr. Heathcliff Hux-table’.

You can fool Soma the people Soma the time….

1942: Donovan’s Brain by Curt Siodmak

A guy named Donovan’s brain is kept alive in a jar post-mortem, where it develops the ability to control the minds of others. Basically, it’s 160 pages of hot brain-on-brain action. It would’ve been really easy to overthink the title of this book and default to something less direct. Like Dark Side Of The Mind. Or Lobe Story. Or Hungry, Hungry Hippocampus. But in the end, the best name for a book about a guy named Donovan’s brain is Donovan’s Brain. I recommend you read Donovan’s Brain.

On a scale of famous manipulative brains ranging from Krang to Brainiac, this book is: the Big Brain.

What are we going to do tonight, brain?

 

1952: Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Funny story: I read a lot of Vonnegut in high school, and in the back of one of his books was an authour bio that described him as ‘America’s foremost black humourist’. But when I saw a picture of him looking decidedly Caucasian,  I was totally confused, and thought for awhile that there must be two famous authours named Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., one black and one white. It wasn’t until I submitted an essay about Player Piano in which I claimed that ‘Vonnegut’s pessimism about the place of humanity in the new industrial age is told in a distinctly African American voice.’ that I discovered my error. Anyway, this book is pretty good. Recommended.

'Ebony and iv-ory....'

1962: Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

Bradbury pulls the ol’ good cop/bad cop routine with this book. First, he scares you. Then he makes you feel like everything’s going to be okay. Then he scares you again. Then he offers you a cigarette. Then he slaps it out of your hand and talks about the horrible things that happen to readers like you in the joint. But the only thing I’ll confess to is loving this classic tale of small-town horror as seen through the eyes of children. Recommended.

On a scale of coming wickedness ranging from summer gas gouging to Ragnarok, this book is: New Memories Of Tuscany^TM Soylent Green (With 33% More Italians!)

Whose writing is amazing? I'm thinking R.B.'s.

1972: The Sheep Look Up by John Brunner

This ‘speculative’ tale of an environmentally ravaged world is so chilling in its accuracy you’ll pray for accelerated global warming. Seventy-five percent of the environmental disasters Brunner foretold in The Sheep Look Up have already come to pesticide-riddled fruition. The rest are bearing down on us like a leaking, lead-lined tanker of crude. Read it, then T-bone a Hummer with your Prius. Recommended.

On a scale of environmental disasters ranging from vanishing bees to radioactive pandas, this book is: using whale meat as dolphin bait.

17 trees died to print this.

1982: War Of Omission by Kevin O’Donnell, Jr.

Revolutionaries seize a secret weapon that makes its target vanish forever from time, space and memory. They should’ve aimed it at this book. The beginning is fairly action-packed (‘Mary’s eyes flashed as she returned fire at the police droids…’) but soon devolves into a tearfully boring description of the lives, politics and policies of post-revolutionaries in the new socialist America they’ve created (‘Mary’s eyes flashed as she farmed carrots for the collective…’). Feh.

On a scale of things war is good for ranging from absolutely nothing to oil, this book is: resolving coastal fishing disputes.

More like 'SNORE Of Omission'. Zing!

1992: The Children Of Men by P.D. James

The year is 2021, and an epidemic of global infertility (don’t worry, it happens to lots of guys) means no babies have been born for 26 years. Anne Geddes is destitute and no one eats for free at HoJo. Amid this bleak background the novel’s protagonist becomes entwined with a group of revolutionaries who may have a way to save the world. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but I’m too excited to keep it a secret: THEY’RE GOING TO HAVE A BABY! A sad a poignant examination of the purpose and importance of children in our lives, Kids Of Dudes is a winner. Recommended.

On a scale of reasons to have a baby ranging from boredom to tax deductions, this book is: propagation of the species.

What are we supposed to do with all this leftover breast milk?

1913: The Night Land by William Hope Hodgson

Billions of years from now the sun has died out and darkness covers the land. Monsters are everywhere and toe-stubbing is at an all-time high. In search of his lost love, a single adventurer sets out across the unknown blackness of The Night Lands where he has adventures out the wazoo. You can’t see his wazoo, of course, because it’s dark. All this could’ve been avoided if God had used a General Electric Enersave^TM Yellow Sun. They last up to 5,000,000 years longer than conventional suns and use a fraction of the nuclear fusion.

On a scale of dark things ranging from the Dark Knight to dark matter, this book is: Doctrine Dark.

Also, there are giant Pac-Mans.

1933: When Worlds Collide by Edwin Balmer and Phillip Wylie

A planet from deep space is on a crash course with Earth (Crash Course With Earth is also the name of an awesome Sammy Hagar solo album), threatening the extinction of life as we know it. Meanwhile, a group of scientists plot to escape to safety in a huge rocket, because scientists are pussies who piss their panties at the premise of total annihilation. Go ahead, wimps. I’ll be here drinking king cans of Bud and singing along with the title track from Crash Course With Earth: ‘Oh, we’re on a (two three) craaaaash course with Earth, so get your rocks on! Yes, we’re on a (two three) craaaaash course with Earth, so keep on rockin’ on!’ Fuckin’ A.

On a scale of explosive disasters ranging from the Hindenburg to Nagasaki, this book is: my bum after tacos.

Kiss your security deposit goodbye.

1943: Gather, Darkness! By Fritz Leiber

Fritzy L. hauls out the ol’ ‘cyclical history’ trope for this novel of the far-flung future where a nuke war has seen a return to Dark Age theocracy. A ‘theocracy’, for those of you who aren’t edumacated, is a government run by Cliff Huxtable’s son. The catch is that religion is actually powered by long-lost science; ‘miracles’ are performed by machines and computers and used to keep ignorant peasants frightened and in line. Toast land buttered side up? Don’t thank God – thank the engineers in IBM’s Toast Research Division. Eventually, the peasants revolt and establish a less oppressive, cuter Rudyocracy. And when that fails to entertain, an Olivaocracy.

On a scale of fashion designers ranging from Tommy Hilfiger to Calvin Klein, this book is: Gordon Gartrelle.

Fritz Leiber? Okay. But only because I know her.

1953: Out Of The Deeps by John Wyndham

This book was released in Europe as The Kraken Wakes. A better title would’ve been The Reader Sleeps. It’s essentially the story of sea monsters attacking the world told through a series of press conferences, newspaper articles, breakfast table conversations and…even this…terse synopsis…is making me….drowsy.

On a scale of deep-sea maladies ranging from an earache to the bends, this book is: mild swimmer’s itch.

Throw it back.

1963: X adapted by Eunice Sudak

Mrs. Sudak’s previous 23 books, A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O (co-authoured with Amy Tan and nominated for the 1997 Chilean National Prize for Literature), P, Q, R, S, T, U, V and W failed to garner her any real commercial success. But X is a winner. It’s about a man with X-Ray eyes who can see through anything. If I had powers like that I’d stare through my sexy neighbor’s bedroom wall, because she’s got a 52-inch plasma TV in there. Yeah, that’s it. Watch that Seinfeld rerun. You like it when Kenny Banya does that, don’t you?

On a scale of rays ranging from X-Rays to gamma rays, this book is: Ray Liota.

"Got any gum? And don't you dare lie to me!"

1973: The Star Road by Gordon R. Dickson

Pooker the Betelgeusian clown teams up with H0W-D the cyborg cowboy and a wise-cracking gelding to stop the wicked Space Sheriff from closing the ol’ theme park. But will Sally’s first period prevent her from winning the roping competition and reveal her true identity to the dreamy Venusian ranch hand? Such is the synopsis of my tween coming-of-age novella The Star Rodeo. And if it’s anything like this book, I’ll sue.

On a scale of things found on the side of the road ranging from an empty can of grape soda to a single shoe, this book is: a hitchhiker who just got out of jail.

Under construction until 2147.

1983:The Dreamstone by C.J. Cherryh

This book takes place during a time when fairy-folk, or sidhe, still walk the earth. The sidhe are a noble people who eschew iron and despise the evil that men do, but, strangely, love the song ‘The Evil That Men Do’ by Iron Maiden.  They speak their own secret language, ‘French’, have their own laws and hold a seat in the Mythical U.N. next to the manticore. If you’ve got a big presentation on the sidhe due at work tomorrow that you haven’t started, consider passing off this hauntingly beautiful fantasy masterpiece as your own.

On a scale of strange dreams ranging from being naked in school to building a go-cart with your ex-landlord, this book is: you’re rolling a big donut, and there’s this snake wearing a vest.

She got the way to move me, Cherryh!

1993: Virtual Light by William Gibson

At first, this book was irritating. Gibson seemed to be trying just a little too hard to remind the reader that it was set in the not-too distant future. Like, he abbreviates the word ‘claustrophobic’ to ‘claustro’ and passes it off as not-too-distant-future language; this is the linguistic equivilant of a one-piece silver jumpsuit. Even the font seemed obnoxious: Futura. Using Futura in a book about the future breaks an ironclad rule of design: never print a book in a font named after the subject matter (I have yet to receive any interest in my biography of insane Bavarian type cutter Zapf Dingbat). But, by the end, I had to admit it had grown on me: (to the tune of the ‘By Mennen’ jingle) ‘Bill GIB-son!’

On a scale of cocktails ranging from the Rob Roy to the Pink lady, this book is a: Gibson.

Did you get those font jokes or am I wasting my time here?

1904: The Napoleon Of Notting Hill by G.K. Chesterton

Future England: London has broken up into city states that are at constant war, and eventually there’s a great bloody melee and everyone dies (melee weapons only give you +4 strength, after all, and leave you vulnerable to ice magic).   This book is full of the kind of humor that can only be described as ‘dry’. Actually, ‘dry’ isn’t the word; more like ‘desiccated’. Desiccated, not-very-funny humour. Regardless, it’s described as a ‘comic novel’ and was met with great enthusiasm when it debuted at Comic Novel-icon 1904 in San Diego. To this day a huge contingent of cosplay fans dress up as G.K. Chesterton, and are savagely and contemptuously beaten by other nerds, thus proving that even the lowest and most pitiful tiers of society are carefully structured.

On a scale of Hugh Grant films ranging from Notting Hill to Notting Hill II: Bigger And Notting-er, this book is: Notting Hill III: The Search For Curly’s Gold (by far the best of the trilogy).

The funky Notting Hill shit.

1914: The Poison Belt by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

The Earth drifts through a cloud of poisonous ether, kind of a galactic SBD, and the entire planet becomes a giant, stifling Dutch oven. And not the good kind that children from the Netherlands gather ‘round for fresh-baked stroopwafles, either. Beneath the pall of this worldwide air biscuit, a small group of survivours who have smelt it attempt to figure out who dealt it. Did God cut one? Did Fate have chilli for dinner and forget to crack a window? And will whatever malicious cosmic force supplied it ultimately deny it? A thought-provoking novella about life, humanity and really bad gas.

On a scale air quality index ratings ranging from Good to Hazardous, this book is: Unhealthy For Sensitive Groups.

Toxic trousers sold separately.

1924: We by Yevgeny Zamyatin

Authour Yevgeny Zamyatin (whose name, oddly enough, has never been a ‘Famous People’ puzzle on Wheel Of Fortune) lived in an oppressive 20^th century autocracy. So he wrote a book about (drum roll, please) an oppressive 30^th century autocracy. Basically, it’s about a guy in a hive-like society who learns to think as an individual, only to have his spirit crushed by the powers that be. On the bright side, the juice from a crushed spirit contains 40% of your daily requirement of Vitamin A, and the fibre can be used to make muffins.

On a scale of colours ranging from grey to grey, this book is: grey.

It's unanimous: totalitarianism is great.

1954: I Am Legend by Richard Matheson

The last man on earth is holed up in his house trying to survive against his former friends and neighbors, who are now vampires. The worst thing about having neighbors who are vampires is that, after they bite you, they borrow your lawnmower and never return it. Plus, their vampire kids invite their vampire friends over and have a big vampire party where they blare Vampire Weekend all weekend. Back to the book: read it and see why I Am Legend is I-am-legendary. Recommended.

On a scale of things that suck ranging from leeches to the Dyson vacuum cleaner, this book is: the film adaptation of this book.

No fair! You were Legend last time!

1964: The 9th Annual Edition Of The Year’s Best SF edited by Judith Merril

For some reason, this anthology’s index abbreviates the sources it culled its stories from, and the magazine Analog Science Fact & Fiction is abbreviated as Anal. I’m not joking. Now, a lot of guys are embarrassed to purchase Anal at the store, or worried their wives will find their copies of Anal at home. Personally, I buy Anal for the articles and have been a dedicated Anal subscriber for years, and this book pounded my imagination raw with blistering, white-hot stories by some of the most hardcore writers in the biz. Perfect for consenting adults looking to spice up their reading routine.

On a scale of puerile innuendo ranging from April Wine’s ‘If You See Kay’ to ZZ Top’s ‘Tube Snake Boogie’, this book is: David Wilcox’s ‘Layin’ Pipe’.

Gaping SF action!

1974: What’s It Like Out There? by Edmond Hamilton

This book has something you don’t see in contemporary scifi: a cigarette ad. Between pages 128 and 129 for Kent Menthols. I haven’t seen such shameless shillery since Ray Bradbury’s Doritos-sponsored novella Something Zesty This Way Comes. This crass commercialization of an otherwise fine collection of stories left me cold. Almost as cold as a delicious glass of Mug Root Beer. Put a Mug In Your Mug^TM!

On a scale of military ad mascots ranging from Cap’n Crunch to Colonel Sanders, this book is: Sergeant Pain, Anacin’s Migraine-Inducing Drill Instructor.

"The aliens are attacking!" cried the captain....

...."Got a light?"

1984: West Of Eden by Harry Harrison

Many people confuse this book with John Steinbeck’s East Of Eden, and there are similarities. Like Steinbeck’s work, Harrison’s tale is set on a prehistoric Earth where dinosaurs never went extinct and evolved into sentient creatures that compete with humans for survival. The protagonists of both works ride a triceratops into battle. And both books depict rough reptile-on-human intercourse, which I’m not certain is possible, although I’m not a doctor.

On a scale of technologically advanced reptiles ranging from Mecha Gojira to Bahamut Zero, this book is: cyborg Michigan J. Frog.

"Now we're WEST of Eden? Gimmie that goddamned map!"

1994: Gun, With Occasional Music by Jonathan Letham

This book follows the seamy exploits of a private detective in a futuristic Frisco where drugs are legal, animals can talk and criminals are cryogenically frozen and turned into sex slaves. ‘Great,’ you’re thinking, ‘ another one of those novels.’ Still, it’s pretty good. Letham effortlessly blends Philip K. Dick and Chandler (Phoebe, Ross and Rachel, however, fail to make an appearance) for a one-of-a-kind work of cyber-noir. BTW, ‘noir’ is just fancy talk for ‘black’. And, BTW, ‘BTW’ is just fancy talk for ‘by the way’. Recommended.

On a scale of ways to prepare eggs ranging from scrambled to poached, this book is: hard boiled.

Book, with frequent words.

1905: Gulliver Of Mars by Edwin L. Arnold

A U.S. Marine travels to the red planet (Support Our Troops On Mars!) where he engages in a series of swashbuckling adventures amongst the locals. Personally, I find swashbuckling somewhat clumsy, and prefer to secure my swashes with something more convenient than a buckle. Although ‘a swash-Velcroing adventure’ doesn’t sound nearly as exciting.

On a scale of planets ranging from Ork to Melmac, this book is: Omicrom Persii 8.

Get your ass to Mars…get your ass to Mars…get your ass to Mars….

1915: The Star Rover by Jack London

A prisoner in San Quentin escapes the monotony of solitary confinement and the physical agony of weeks in a straightjacket by putting himself into a trance and revisiting himself in past lives. Like they say: ‘Don’t do the crime if you can’t transcend reality and travel back in time’. Ever the realist, London conducted interviews with actual convicts before writing this book to ensure the prison experiences he depicted were accurate. Hence The Star Rover’s initial title, Cornholed By The Aryans. Highly recommended.

On a scale of Jack London book titles that could double as prison nicknames ranging from White Fang to Lost Face, this book is: The Game.

'Do you like my star roving robe? I star rove in it.'

1925: The Radio Beasts by Ralph Milne Farley

An earthling visits Venus, where he defeats a race of belligerent ant people using terrestrial radio technology. While boring and badly written, this book is nonetheless a fascinating showcase of pre-atomic age human fears and technological advancements: belligerent ants and the radio, respectively.  Today, it’s terrorism and the Slap Chop^TM. And those terrorists are gonna love our nuts.

On a scale of ants ranging from fire to carpenter, this book is: Jemima.

Video killed this book.

1935: It Can’t Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis

What would’ve happened if, instead of standing against Germany and Italy in WWII, America had elected a brutal dictatorship of its own? Give up? Read this pile o’ pages and find out. This novel is a comic commentary on fascism (think Hitler, but with a Groucho Marx moustache) and the fragility of democracy, and is an oft-cited work of alternate history. That’s right – ‘oft’. So you know it’s good.  Recommended.

On a scale of characters in Stephen King’s It ranging from Eddie Kaspbrak to Mike Hanlon, this book is: It.

Actually, it kinda sorta can.

1945: That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis

Someone call Father Dowling, because this book’s a mystery! I have no idea what it’s about! It takes place in England and has Merlin in it, but after that the authour and I weren’t on the same page….literally! I think it’s the final book in Lewis’s theological Space Trilogy, the events of which follow those of Out Of The Silent Planet and Perelandra (a.k.a. Voyage to Venus) and once again feature the philologist Elwin Ransom. But generally, this book overcooked my noodle and made me feel a little like a Grateful Dead song: Dazed And Confused!

On a scale of puzzled exclamations ranging from ‘What the heck?’ to ‘What the what?’, this book is: ‘What in Sam Hill?’

The title should have been 'That Confusing Book'!

1955: Tunnel In The Sky by Robert A. Heinlein

A group of teens trapped on a remote and savage planet band together and form a crude society to survive. Sort of like Lord Of The Flies in space. Pixar has already started production on an animated film version, Lord Of The Flies In Space: The Movie.  And rumour has it Andrew Lloyd Webber has been tapped to stage Lord Of The Flies In Space: The Movie: The Musical! Finally, all you bibliophiles out there are sure to love James Kahn’s Lord Of The Flies In Space: The Movie: The Musical: The Official Novelization (With 16 pages of full-colour photos!) Then some nerd will blog about it.

On a scale of things that make tunnels in the sky ranging from sky gophers to sky sandworms, this book is: the short-tailed Western sky vole.

Can you dig it?

1965: Dune by Frank Herbert

In the far distant future the drug of choice isn’t cocaine or marijuana. It isn’t smack or crank, either. Or acid. Or hash, meth, uppers, downers, reds, blues, scream juice, zqxkj or Ugandan whiz-bang. It’s the Spice, and it’s the central subject of this classic, mind-bending tale of family and political intrigue set on the planet of Arrakis. If you enjoyed Dallas but thought it could use more sandworms, Dune will blow your mind like a double scream juice on the rocks. Recommended.

On a scale of Spice Girls that were kicked out of the group ranging from Ugly Spice to Crusty Spice, this book is: Weepy Lesion Spice.

This is an outdated cover. Nowadays, most sandworms are circumcised.

1975: Merlin’s Mirror by Andre Norton

If only there was a book in which a young Merlin is instructed in ‘magic’ by a race of aliens who seek to unite a balkanized post-Roman Britain and use humankind as weapons in a millennium-long war against their own enemies. Wait a minute…there is! Merlin’s Mirror is a seamless combo of Chariots Of The Gods and The Sword In The Stone that both entertains and gives pause for (dare I say it?) reflection. This book is one of the reasons Andre Norton was nicknamed ‘The Giant’ by her opponents. Recommended.

On a scale of famous magicians ranging from David Blaine to Circe, this book is: the Silver Age Dr. Strange.

Sit down for a spell and read it.

1985: Perfume by Patrick Süskind

This book is about an 18^th century perfumer who brutally murders young virgins and steals their scents. Which, coincidently, is the same method used by Liz Taylor to make White Diamonds. Not only is this book very interesting and well-written, but the dark subject matter is offset by Patrick Süskind’s use of an umlaut in his name, which makes anything unpleasant seem alluring: löose, rünny stöol. See? Recommended.

On a scale of poorly-selling perfumes ranging from ‘Burnt Toast’ to ‘Hospital Hallway’, this book is: Iggy Pop’s ‘T’aint’.

Know what smell I love? Old books.

1995: The Azathoth Cycle edited by Robert M. Price

 

Of all the hideous creations in Lovecraft’s pantheon, the visually-impaired, mentally-challenged deity is my personal favourite, so The Azathoth Cycle was like music to my ears. Music comprised of the beating of vile drums and the thin, monotonous whine of accursed flutes, but music nonetheless. This book, however, should in no way be confused with Azathoth-cicles^TM, the frozen treat kids go horribly, irreversibly mad for. Recommended.

 

 

 

On a scale of fictional New England towns ranging from Derry, Maine to Arkham, Massachusetts, this book is: Madeupville, Rhode Island.

Hint: Spell AZATHOTH on a Triple Word Score for an easy 122 points.

 

 

1916: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

Guy goes to bed one night, wakes up as a giant cockroach. His family scorns, abuses and ostracizes him, and he eventually dies. Seems harsh, until you realize that waking up as a giant cockroach was, in Kafka’s day, the equivalent of telling your parents you were gay. Your dad would be all, like, ‘If only I’d taught my son to play baseball he wouldn’t have woken up as a giant cockroach!’ Eventually, your family would grudgingly accept your being a giant cockroach and you’d bring your cockroach friend and traveling companion David over for Thanksgiving, but it’d be tense. By the way: doesn’t this this photo of Kafka looks like Tony Soprano’s nephew?

On a scale of things you did this morning ranging from brushing your teeth to waking up as a giant cockroach, this book is: you got yourself a gun.

Riddle: How did Franz Kafka describe a Kafka-esque experience?

1926: The Charwoman’s Shadow by Lord Dunsany

Dunsany was a pioneer. And, like most pioneers, he occasionally wandered off track and led his followers into an inhospitable wilderness where they were forced to eat pemmican and bear grease candles until the spring thaw. The Charwoman’s Shadow is one such wilderness. It completely lacks the airy beauty of his Lordship’s other works, and will have you praying to the Gods of Pegana for a quick and merciful end.

On a scale of shadowy things ranging from Shadoe Stevens to a CIA Black Ops Meeting, this book is: a poorly-lit stairwell.

Lord Dunsany's best? Lord, no!

1936: War With The Newts by Karel Capek

 

When intelligent newts (I know it sounds like an oxymoron, but this is scifi) are discovered on the ocean floor, humankind enlists them to mine pearls. The newts then use the very pearl-mining tools we gave them to wage war. Sound familiar? It’s the same thing that happened when Reagan armed Afghani newts to fight the Russians in the 1980’s. This book is a brilliant satire that proves that, if war is hell, war with newts is a different, newt-ier kind of hell. Recommended.

On a scale of dark, moist things ranging from peat moss to the inside of a wrestling shoe, this book is: black forest cake.

They're attacking us? I newt!

 

 

1946: Slan by A.E. van Vogt

Y’know how there’s stuff people absolutely love, despite the fact it obviously sucks? Like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, U2 or democracy? That’s what this book is like. It’s about a race of telepathic superhumans called Slans, who are despised and persecuted by regular humans because of their abilities. They’re basically the Asian math students of the future. Scifi fans absolutely jizz in their 44-waist Wranglers over this novel, but they should clench their urethras and hang onto it, because Slan is way overrated.

On a scale of Slan crimes ranging from Slan Theft Auto to Slanslaughter, this book is: Slander.

‘Darn dry cleaner shrunk my space pants.’

1956: The Death Of Grass by John Christopher

Jolly Old England is completely de-jollified when a food shortage causes the Brits to descend rapidly into crazed barbarism. And who can blame them? Without kippers, kidney pies and toads-in-holes, I’d go off my chump, too, old boy. This book is basically like The Road, except with no happy ending to reaffirm your faith in humankind (yuck!). Like a British weather forecast, it’s dreary, miserable and grey, and shows no sign of letting up. Highly recommended.

On a scale of grasses ranging from Bermuda to Fountain, this book is: Creeping Red Fescue.

On the bright side, there's less to mow.

1966: Time Out Of Mind by Pierre Boulle

From the authour of Planet Of The Apes, Bridge Over The River Kwai and Bridge Over The Planet Of The Apes comes a short story collection that, to be frank, was disappointing. For one thing, Boulle was French, so strike one. And none of these stories had talking apes in them, so strike two. And the translation was somewhat inept, which isn’t really his fault, but I’m looking for a reason to discount this book entirely, so strike thr – oh shit! I beaned Pierre Boulle! Right in the temple! Is he hurt? Is he bleeding? Yeah, he’s bleeding. Well, fuck him. He shouldn’t have crowded the plate.

On a scale of business ranging from funny to risky, this book is: monkey.

I wouldn't mind discussing this book further, but we're out of time.

1976: Scop by Barry N. Malzberg

A time traveler named Scop tries to thwart the JFK assassination and prevent America from turning into a horrific dystopia by 2045. And a dystopia is worst kind of topia, except for Fruitopia, which is like fruit stomping on a human face, forever. Anyway, he fails and humankind goes down the ol’ crapper. As an avid JFK assaniation fan, this book blew me away. I found it on a shelf at the local library and read it in one sitting, then I put it back and left. Back and left. Back and left.

On a scale of Presidential assassins ranging from Charles Guiteau to Leon F. Czolgosz, this book is: John Schrank.

“It’s a nice day,” said the President, “let’s put the top down.”

1986: Hitler Victorious edited by Gregory Benford and Martin Harry Greenberg

If you don’t think the real WWII was bad enough, this book is for you; eleven stories portraying a victorious Nazi menace looming like a dark cloud over the world. The forecast? Stormy, with a chance of heil. If you’re a Hitler buff, you’ll definitely want to read this book. Also, if you’re a Hitler buff, you probably shouldn’t go around describing yourself as a ‘Hitler buff’. Very highly recommended.

On a scale of rooms in Hitler’s house ranging from the schlafzimmer to the küche, this book is: the lebensraum.

Adolf Hitler, to clarify.

1996: The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell

In the year 2060, a distant planet is visited by a group of Jesuit missionaries (NOTE: absolutely no ‘missionary position’ jokes will be made about this book.) Once there, they experience the greater glory of God in the form of death, torture, modest inconvenience, and sexual brutality at the hands of the native population. I guess the missionary position isn’t as fun as it sounds (NOTE: I couldn’t resist. Sorry.) Highly recommended.

On a scale of martyrs ranging from Miguel Pro to Roque González de Santa Cruz, this book is: the guy who gave that baseball back to Mark McGwire.

Tweet about it!

1917: Dear Brutus by J.M. Barrie

In this play by the authour of Peter Pan (the title of which he stole from a jar of peanut butter) a sorcerer gives five regretful characters the chance to relive their lives over again. A cosmic mulligan, if you will. They hope they will be able to avoid the mistakes that made them miserable in the first place, but, like the (insert currently underperforming sports franchise here), they’re destined to be losers forever. Just goes to show you that a tiger can’t change its stripes. I mean, even if it could get them to run horizontally instead of vertically, that would be a start. But it can’t.

On a scale of movies about repeating life over again ranging from The Butterfly Effect to Groundhog Day, this book is: Mickey’s Once Upon A Christmas.

We can put a mirror into space but we can't cure cancer?

1937: Swastika Night by Katharine Burdekin

Although this novel postulates a world in which the Nazis won WWII, it was written two years before the war started, when Hitler was an apple-cheeked Führer building Luftwaffe models in his bedroom and doodling Auschwitz blueprints in his binder during math class. In it, the Nazis have imprisoned women, deigning contact only for reproduction, and have rewritten history to make Hitler seem like a blond-haired God. I think we can all be thankful that Burdekin’s predictions didn’t come to pass, and that the privilege of rewriting history went to the victorious Allies. By the way, did you know Kaiser Wilhelm failed his driving test and had a third nipple? Recommended.

On a scale of predictions that didn’t come true ranging from Oral Roberts being called home to Y2K, this book is: my lotto numbers coming up.

Late December back in ’43. What a very special time for me.

1947: Consider Her Ways by Frederick Phillip Grove

This book follows a colony of exploratory ants as they make their way through the world, observing and cataloguing its many other species and fighting rival colonies (the most notable fight being dubbed ‘The Thrilla On The Hill-A’). Viewing the world with compound eyes, Grove poses some interesting philosophical questions (when ants are up high, what do the people below look like?) but the funniest part of the story is the constant scorn and pity ants feel for humans. Apparently, we’re unorganized, inefficient and our mandibles are laughably small. On the other hand, we don’t scream and yell ‘RAAAAAAID!’ in a comically exaggerated fashion whenever we see a can of bug spray.

On a scale of ant segments ranging from the alitrunk to the gaster, this book is: the petiole.

Consider them considered.

1957: On The Beach by Nevil Shute

Australia. In the wake of a nuclear war, a small group of survivours struggle through the challenges of daily life, grimly secure in the inevitability of their  imminent deaths. Together, they form a sad, poignant and inspiring tableau of life at the end of the nuclear age. I’m speaking, of course, about The Road Warrior. I love that movie. I think that’s where Nevil Shute got the idea for this book. A good case for banning the bomb.

On a scale of radiation sickness ranging from mild nausea to immediate death, this book is: sterility and some bleeding.

Shute:The Ayatollah Of Arms Control-a.

1967: Hawksbill Station by Robert Silverbeg

Of all of SF’s sub-genres, time travel is one of my favourites. Hawksbill Station (both the book and the station) delivers a steaming helping of chilling time travel in a world where political dissidents are sent to a penal colony a billion years in the past. But with good behavior, they could get out in 500,000,000. Silverberg tempers well-crafted characters with friggin’ cool descriptions of what the Earth looked like long before anything set foot, paw or claw on it. Highly recommended.

On a scale of predatory birds ranging from osprey to raptors, this book is: a wedge-tailed eagle.

"I'm up for parole in the Cretaceous."

1977: The Dark Design by Philip Jose Farmer

This is the third installment in Farmer’s Riverworld series, in which an all-star cast of both real people (Hermann Goring) and imaginary (Jesus) are resurrected on a mysterious planet and join forces to discover its secrets. Kinda makes you think about what you’d do if you met Herman Goring and Jesus. Personally, I’d say ‘Your life’s work is inspiring to me,’ and walk away, leaving the two of them to figure out who I was talking to. Anywho, the Dark Design is engaging, entertaining and (dare I say it?) illuminating. No. I’d better not. That’s just what they’ll be expecting me to say.

On a scale of third installments of things ranging from Return Of The Jedi to Metal Gear Solid: Snake Eater, this book is: Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits, Volume 3.

You Philip Jose Farmer, you brought her.

1987: Winston Three Three Three by Dennis Barker

Russians! Ruskies! Reds! Commies! Pinkos! Barney Rubles! Kopek-erheads! Lenin-lovers! Stalin-suckers! Putin-pumpers! Chernobyl laureates! Nyet-sayers! Russians! Whatever you call them, they rule England in 2089, according to this grisly, fast-paced alt-hist thriller. That is, unless, a sociopathic spy named Winston Three Three Three can help the Brits spark a revolution that’ll send their Tetris-slinging overlords back to where they came from: Russia! Where Russians come from!

On a scale of wrestlers Nikolai Volkov fought ranging from Sgt. Slaughter to Ted DiBiase, this book is: Hacksaw Jim Duggan.

‘Wrong number. This is Klondike 5-4385.’

1997: Singers Of Strange Songs edited by Scott David Aniolowski

Fans of Brian Lumley know him as the authour of the Necroscope series (Necroscope is also the leading brand of zombie mouthwash). But he’s also a devotee of the Cthulhu mythos, having added Shudde M’ell the Prime Burrower to H.P. Lovecraft’s foul pantheon. This anthology contains stories by writers inspired by Lumley’s Lovecraft-inspired creations, which is kinda like someone parodying a Weird Al song that parodies a song that wasn’t very popular to begin with. Like if you took ‘I Want A New Duck’ and changed it to ‘I Want A New Truck’. Y’see how silly that sounds? Okay, then.

On a scale of Weird Al albums ranging from Weird Al In 3D to Alapalooza, this book is: Dare To Be Stupid.

Give me a bouncy C!

1908: The Sword Of Welleran And Other Stories by Lord Dunsany

Dunsany is like Eminem. He writes with a simplicity and style that makes you think, ‘I can do that.’ But when you sit down and try, you realize how tight, mad and crazy his science, flow and skills are, respectively. And you hate him for his talent, but you don’t want to dis him because you’re afraid he might write a skit about you fellating Insane Clown Posse. So you squash the beef and read this collection of stories, most of which are about how much he hates his ex-wife. Highly recommended.

On a scale of D12 members ranging from Bizarre to Kuniva, this book is: Kon Artis.

'Dear Dunsany; I wrote you but you still ain't callin'....'

1918: Meccania: The Super State by Owen Gregory

A fascist ruler controls every aspect of average citizens’ lives, demanding to know where they are and what they’re doing twenty-four hours a day. But enough about my marriage – let’s talk about this book. Its true authour is unknown; ‘Owen Gregory’ is widely believed to be a pen name, and if I’d taken a subject as interesting as a fascist dystopia and made it this boring, I’d want anonymity, too. Dude or dudette couldn’t even pen an interesting pen name. ‘Owen Gregory?’. Was ‘Snoozy McGee’ taken? It was? Oh. Sorry, Snoozy. I didn’t see you there. What about ‘Sleepy McGillicutty’? That’s also taken? And he’s Snoozy’s cousin? Damn. Writing is harder than it looks.

On a scale of states ranging from California to Hawaii, this book is as super as: Delaware.

One un-super book.

1928: A Brand New World by Ray Cummings

Earth is attacked by aliens from the planet Xenephrene because they suspect we are harbouring WMDX’s (weapons of mass destruction of Xenephrenians). Fortunately, a scientist invents a ray gun to defeat them. After reading this book, I demand the Second Amendment be extended to include the right to bear ray guns. They can be used to solve all kinds of problems. Wanna defend your home against burglars? Get a ray gun. Going hunting? Ray gun. Rival street gang? Ray gun held sideways in gangsta grip. Zombie Ronald Regan? Don’t be silly. There’s no such thing.

On a scale of ray gun settings ranging from ‘Warm’ to ‘Fuck Yo’ Shit Up, Ray Gun Style’, this book is: ‘Is It Hot In Here, Or Is Someone Pointing A Ray Gun At Me?’.

Everybody loves Raymond. And cumming.

1938: The Sword In The Stone by T.H. White

Merlin the magician (as opposed to, say, Merlin the plumber) tutours a young Arthur in the skills needed be the King Of England: posing for stamps, inbreeding and waving to crowds. Rule Britannia! Most people are familiar with the Disney adaptation of this book, but the book is better. It has no musical numbers, and its sales don’t go to fund the construction of Israeli earthquake machines. Highly recommended.

On a scale of kings ranging from Burger King to Martin Luther King, Jr., this book is: Abe Froman, Sausage King Of Chicago.

‘Would you like to come into my hut to see my etchings?’

1948: The Well Of The Unicorn by Fletcher Pratt

The Vulkings are the bad guys; a malignant force bent on domination and the systematic obliteration of anyone who bars their way. Kinda like Starbucks. Arair is a rebel magician who fights the Vulkings with a small, pathetic resistance which seems doomed to fail at any moment. Kinda like Second Cup. Rapine and grammary ensue, not to mention numerous incidents of skullduggery, calumny, opprobrium, malaxation, squadrism, wanion and pasquinade. There’s even some tachydidaxy thrown in for good measure. The moral of the story is that life is often sad, bitter and unwelcoming. Like Timothy’s. 

On a scale of things with one horn ranging from the rhino to the narwhal, this book is: the 2004 Toyota Matrix.

Magicians were gayer-looking in those days.

1958: VOR by James Blish

VOR has come to Earth to tell of an imminent invasion by his own planet. VOR’s destruction will warn his people that we have the galactic chops not to be messed with. But should we kill VOR just to save ourselves? This classic 1950’s tale of life, love and sacrifice is perhaps best remembered by the final chapter, in which young Joey (played by Brandon DeWilde) cries “VOR! VOR! Come back!” as the titular character rides off across the plain.

On a scale of three-letter words beginning with V ranging from VEG to VUG, this book is VIG.

An alien invasion? This means VOR.

1968: 2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke

In high school I took acid and watched this movie, but I don’t recommend doing the same thing with the book. The sound of the pages turning is like your enemies whispering (‘Fear….’ they seem to say, ‘Feeeeeaaar….’) and you think the chair across the room will move unless you stare at it without blinking. Also, can you even get acid anymore? Kids today are too busy ‘dropping’ the ‘X’ and inhaling computer dusting spray to care about a few tabs of Green Lantern, and they’ll beat you with the metal casing from a tampon dispenser for even wandering into their turf to ask. Highly recommended.

On a scale of intelligent computers ranging from Speak N’ Spell to Deep Blue, this book is: that Japanese stair-climbing robot.

One HAL of a good book.

1978: Crompton Divided by Robert Sheckley

Crompton Divided: A novel written by Robert Sheckley. About a man with different personalities. He takes a big trip. On a space ship. And starts a story that’s exceptionally well-knit. This guy’s certifiably a schitzo. But he’s gonna try to cure himself of it, though. The authour goes off on a tangent like that. With a style that’s in its very own class. The writing is the best. Ain’t no tellin’ when he’s down for a plot twist. There’s a dénouement to keep y’all reading. Cuz you don’t know where the story is leading. The novel is exciting but it doesn’t end well. Cuz the protagonist is crazy as hell. The voices in his head revile and haunt him, but by the final chapter, they’re driven straight out of Crompton.

On a scale of things you can use to keep cool during the summer ranging from air conditioning to an oscillating fan, this book is: ice cubes.

Sheckley: Novelist with attitude.

1988: The Cockroaches Of Stay More by Donald Harrington

A society of sentient cucarachas living in a man’s kitchen worship Him as their god. But when the Man gets drunk and shoots himself, they begin to question the wisdom and power of their hitherto beloved deity. Basically, it’s Watership Down with roaches. Or maybe Watership Down is this book with rabbits. Either way, it’s a good read. And when you’re done, you can use it to swat real cockroaches. Cut your Raid bill in half. Save some cash. Times are tough out there. Recommended.

On a scale of famous cockroaches ranging from Freddie Roach to Gregor Samsa, this book is: Carl Anthony Payne II.

This book really bugs me.

1998: The Cleft And Other Odd Tales by Gahan Wilson

Cartoonist Gahan Wilson proves he’s a man of many talents (okay, two) with this offbeat anthology of stories. What I like about this book is that every story is told in a different voice. In ‘The Sea Was Wet As Wet Could Be’, Wilson does a Robin Williams ‘black guy’ voice. In ‘Them Bleaks’ he does a Richard Pryor ‘white guy’ voice. And in ‘The Marble Boy’ he does a ‘what if John Madden and Cher had a baby? I think it would sound a little like this’ voice. Sometimes whimsical, sometimes humourous, sometimes whimsi-rous, The Cleft will delight your literary palate. Recommended.

On a scale of things cut in half featured on thingsihavecutinhalf.blogspot.com ranging from a teabag to a pocket comb, this book is: an alarm clock.

Get a copy before there’s none cleft.

1909: The Chase Of The Golden Meteor by Jules Verne

A meteor made of gold and worth billions careens towards Earth, sending everyone into a panic. Alas, they are helpless to prevent it, and can only stare, open-mouthed, at the magnificent golden shower about to rain down on them. This novel uses the anarchic profanity ‘zounds’ more than 23 times, making it the Scarface of its day, which explains why it is the most quoted Jules Verne book in hip-hop. Recommended.

On a scale of things Goldfinger does ranging from beckoning you to enter his web of sin to pouring golden words in your ear, this book is: telling you lies that can’t disguise what you fear.

Jules and gold.

1919: The Moon Pool by A. Merritt

An American, an Irishman and a Russian battle an ancient culture in the South Pacific that worships a god they call ‘The Shining One’. I love it! Who do you see playing the lead? The Rock? I love it! Can we get Michael Bay to direct? We can? I love it! Can John Williams score it? Can we cross-promote with Pepsi? Can we hire that catering company that makes the spicy peanut saytay? Love it! Love it! Love it!  What’s that? The book? Oh, I hated it. Total snooze fest.

On a scale of moon things ranging from Moon Pies to Atari’s Moon Patrol, this book is: Sun Myung Moon.

Guests must shower before using the Moon Pool.

1939: Lest Darkness Fall by L. Sprague de Camp

I hated math and chemistry in high school. But if Mr. Gauldie told me I might someday travel back in time to ancient Rome and use my scant knowledge of those subjects to stave off the approaching Dark Ages, I would’ve been more attentive in class. A well-plotted alt/hist classic which proves that a Grade 10 General Science credit in AD 535 is like a license to mint sesterii. Recommended.

On a scale of alternate histories ranging from Yoko Ono breaking up the Eagles to the Nazis winning the Civil War, this book is: a polka-based Woodstock.

"Scusi, do you mind if I...come se dice...alter the course of civilization as we know it?"

1949: From Outer Space by Hal Clement

This book is about two shape-shifting blobs that visit Earth to invade the bodies and minds of humans. Can you guess where said blobs come from? Give up? You’re gonna kick yourself when you hear the answer, because it’s right in the title of the book. They come from outer space. And ‘boom’ goes your mind.

On a scale of things from outer space ranging from outer space monsters to outer space invaders, this book is: Plan 8 ½ From Outer Space.

Sorry, I wasn't listening. From where?

1959: A Canticle For Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr.

A nuke war causes modern society to revert to bleak monasticism, which, over thousands of years evolves into a modern society, which once again launches a nuke war, which starts the whole silly cycle over again. Or as Cypress Hill said, ‘What go around come around, kid.’ This book is a brilliant commentary on organized religion’s pros (provides strength during difficult times) and cons (priest may diddle you in church kitchen; if kitchen in use, supply cupboard) and answers the age-old question as to which of the faiths pleases God the most (Sorry, Jews). Highly recommended.

On a scale of fallen civilizations ranging from the Incan to the Aztec, this book is: the Norte-Chico.

‘Celibacy, Poverty and Silence. How may I direct your call?’

1969: Galactic Pot Healer by Philip K. Dick

A potter is summoned to a distant planet to help an ancient alien being raise a sunken cathedral. There, he battles the alien’s entropic double, which takes the form of a giant, shadowy bird. This book is like you took acid, hallucinated, and your hallucination took acid, and is of a style scifi aficionados have come to call ‘Dickian’. This is, of course, much different than ‘Dickensian’, which is important to know if you’ve ever found yourself reading A Tale Of Two Cities and wondering when the androids are going to show up. Highly recommended.

On a scale of things androids dream of ranging from electric sheep to sonic hedgehogs, this book is: a clockwork orangutan.

Damn! Dropped a contact!

1979: Convergent Series by Larry Niven

Larry Niven is such a good writer that he could, if he wanted to, act like a total jerk and get away with it. He could yell at waiters, molest people’s sick pets, ash a cigarette into the hair of the girl blowing him, and you’d still say, ‘Convergent Series is an awesome collection of stories from one of scifi’s masters; I’m gonna look the other way on the pet-molesting.’ Of course, Larry Niven would never do those things, because he’s too classy. Also, it’s hard to molest pets; they bite you unless they’re wearing one of those cones around their necks.  Recommended.

On a scale of jerks ranging from Charlie Sheen to Russell Crowe, this book is: Christian Bale (dude; your sum contribution to Batman was a raspy voice; where do you get off yelling at people?)

Like the World Series, but nerdier.

1989: A Romance Of The Equator by Brian W. Aldiss

I’m a huge fan of B.W.A., but many of the stories in this fantasy anthology are altogether incomprehensible, narrative-wise. Overall, this book is like a hot girl with a stutter: beautiful, well put-together, but very difficult to understand. The book says, ‘C-c-can I come out with y-y-you and your f-f-friends tonight?’, to which you reply, ‘Only if you undo a couple buttons on your blouse and keep quiet.’ Eventually you come to resent the book so much you wait until its birthday to break up with it, just so you’ll hurt the book’s feelings that much more. God, I hated it. Great body, though.

On a scale of imaginary lines ringing the globe ranging from the Tropic Of Cancer to the Tropic Of Capricorn, this book is: the Antimeridian.

One day, son, Aldiss will be yours.

1999: Darwin’s Radio by Greg Bear

A strange virus causes women to begin birthing the next stage in human evolution, threatening to make homo sapiens extinct. Now we know how all those monkeys felt when we grew opposable thumbs! This book is what’s commonly known as ‘hard’ scifi; as in ‘hard’ to read, ‘hard’ to follow and ‘hard’ly worth my time. The story, while compelling, is riddled with scientific terminology far beyond a lummox like me (‘Duuuhhh…..what’s a ‘beaker’…?). But if you’re a PhD – holding endemic virologist looking for a little light reading between cataloguing RNA sequences, give it a whirl. Preferably in your haemacrotic centrifuge.

On a scale of viruses ranging from cytoplasmic ployhedrosis to acute laryngotracheobronchitis, this book is: duck hepatitis B.

Catch Monkey Man and the Drive Time Zoo Croo every morning on Darwin’s Radio!

2000: Drakas! edited by S.M. Stirling

A book is always more exciting when exclamation points are added to the title: The Old Man And The Sea! To Kill A Mockingbird! Absalom, Absalom!!!!!!! This book is no exception. It’s a series of stories set in S.M. Stirling’s Domination timeline, where British South Africans who call themselves ‘the Draka’ have enslaved humankind (you don’t have to have your body and spirit broken under the yoke of servitude to work there, but it helps). While interesting, the premise itself is far-fetched: only in science fiction could South Africa be an intolerant dystopia where an elite few withhold basic human rights from the masses.  Recommended for fans of the Domination series.

On a scale of spin-offs ranging from The Golden Palace to Archie Bunker’s Place, this book is: Frasier.

Available! at! a! bookstore! near! you!