Is it possible to buy too much science fiction?

Asking for a friend:

A stack of science fiction paperbacks with a cat sleeping behind it

I was coming home to Amsterdam from the office in Utrecht and since the Metro was passing through there anyway, I thought to stop off at Spui on impulse and see if the American Book Center there had anything good. What I failed to take into account was that it was a Friday and the weekly bookmarkt was just in the process of wrapping up when I arrived. I’d come there often before Covid but this was my first visit in three years or so and had completely forgotten about it. It has a dozen to twenty or so antiquarian and second hand bookstores particpating, not all from Amsterdam itself. Most of what they bring along is of little interest to me, local history, Dutch literature and art books and the like. But every other stand or so might have a some gem hidden among its stock and if that fails, there’s always Magic Galaxies, as the name suggests, a store that specialises in science fiction. It’s where this stack came from. One of those stores you always see at a book market like this, always with a large selection of secondhand paperbacks next to the glossy Star Wars or Star Trek popup books, always for extremely reasonable prices. It’s amazing that I can still get sixties, seventies or even fifties sf paperbacks in good condition for under five euros. I used to think their prices were a bit on the high side, but they stayed roughly the same while everything else became more expensive.

Cover of England Swings SF

Among that stack of paperbacks is the perfect example of what I mean: Judith Merril’s England Swings SF, a book I’ve spent literal decades looking for. A book I’ve known about, have read about for decades I yesterday finally got to hold in my hands. England Swings SF is an incredibly important book in the history of science fiction. A key work of the New Wave, a defining statement of what New Wave science fiction was all about. It’s Judith Merril’s defining work, the jewel in the crown of her work as an editor. You know how important and controversial it was just from the publisher writing its own introduction washing its hands of the whole thing.

Though it may seem strange now, the New Wave was revolutionary, was controversial because it set out to deliberately undo science fiction’s dogmas, both literally and politically. Worse, as it originated in the UK and its most important early writers were British like Moorcock, Ballard and Aldiss, it also upset the natural order of America as the centre of the SF universe. When England Swings SF was released in 1968, the controversy had been raging for almost half a decade between the upstarts and the SF establishment. Like the British Invasion in rock music of the same time, the New Wave also reinvigorated established pulp authors like Robert Silverberg, who would write his best works after the wave hit. It laid the foundations for the more socially conscious and politically engaged science fiction of the late sixties and seventies. The New Wave completely changed science fiction — even if there still people even now denying this — and England Swings SF was its flagship.

Judith Merril herself had been doing a yearly anthology of the best science fiction from 1956, which had been become increasingly progressive in its definition of what science fiction is and where it can be found. Science fiction had until then always prided itself on not being literary, not being concerned with style or technique, too much character development, let alone politics or sex. Judith Merril played a huge role in changing that. As a writer, she’s best known for “That only a Mother…” (1948) and Shadow on the Hearth (1950), two early stories about nuclear war that focused on how it impacts regular people rather than techno wizardry. She moved to Canada and into academia in the seventies, still active in science fiction but no longer writing or editing much. Finally owning her most important work is one personal goal ticked off.

Battletruck — Sci-Fi Sundaze

In a post-apocalyptic world where oil is more valuable than gold, a lone renegade saves a peaceful community from a gang driving exotic, armoured vehicles. But this is not Mad Max, this is Mad Max‘s New Zealand, worse budget, worse actors cousin: Battletruck.

A head-on shot of the battletruck with armoured shutters over its windows all in black with menacing lights.

You have to love a movie with a title as straightforward as this. The main attraction is the Battletruck, so let’s name our movie Battletruck. Then the yanks came and renamed it Warlords of the 21st Century which sounds like it should’ve been one of those Italian redubbed in English sci-fi schlockers. If you’ve seen Mad Max II you know the plot of Battletruck. It all starts when the titular truck runs down a horse drawn wagon and discover diesel onboard. Killing one of the drivers, the other one tells the gang where to find a hidden storage depot full of the stuff. The gang’s leader, colonel Stracker decides this would make for a nifty new base. When he orders his daughter to kill the survivor, she refuses and sneaks out that night. Pursued by the gang, she’s saved when the motorcycle riding Hunter comes to her rescue. He brings her to Clearwater where she lives a peaceful life until Stracker and his battletruck attack. It’s up to Hunter to save them all…

Battletruck is supposed to be set in America, but with every supporting role done by New Zealand actors and with it being shot on location there, it makes much more sense to have the story take place there as well. Especially with a cast that looks as if they’d been cast for a socialist realist kitchen sink drama and got tricked into doing a post-apocalyptic actin thriller. It makes for a far more down to earth drama even if it’s the same plot as Mad Max II, when even the weapons are bolt action rifles rather than M-16s or Uzis. There’s a strange vibe to this movie because of those incongruities, which actually made it a bit more interesting than if this had been a schlick fully American production. A minus point is that the acting is often dreadful, though this is more the fault of the American mainliners than the New Zealand supporting cast. Hunter e.g. is played by Michael Beck, better know for his starring role in another futuristic motorcycle extravaganza, Megaforce. The actors playing Stracker and his wayward daugher are not much better. Not that you’re watching this for the action and the movie itself did kept my attention throughout.

Caption: After the Oil Wars...

The setting is interesting. A simple “After the Oil Wars…” followed by an expository news radio message talking about how the oil fields in the Middle East are now either radioactive or ‘still burning’, food riots have broken out, martial law declared in ‘greater Detroit’ and how the exodus from the cities is flooding the countryside where bandits roam but law enforcement is powerless as they’re dealing with the crisis in the cities. Unlike what you’d expect from the phrase “post-apocalyptic” this isn’t set after a full blown nuclear war, but society has still collapsed. It’s a setting Battletruck shares not only with Mad Max but also something like Escape from New York and other eighties sci-fi. A full nuclear apocalypse is too scary, too big for an action movie, but there’s also the feeling that it wouldn’t take that much to collapse (American) society anyway. That whole late seventies to mid eighties period there’s an underlying current of pessimism, the feeling that America is doomed even if the world itself isn’t. Gang violence, recession, losing the Vietnam war, inflation, it all seems as if America is crumbling from the inside and nobody cares. You see that feeling in a lot of near future American science fiction of the period. Not just movies, but also in comics like American Flagg! and Scout and novels like Neuromancer. It doesn’t really fit here because the feel of the movie itself is so very New Zealand, a country with its own problems but nothing quite like this.

A nice little entry into the post-apocalyptic action thriller genre. Not very original, not the best of acting but still worth watching nonetheless.

My rightwing guilty pleasure: Honor Harrington

On Twitter, one Joel asked:

If you’re on the political left, what is the most right-wing artistic work that you enjoy and appreciate (in whatever way you understand that concept)? And if you’re on the right, the reverse?

Cover of The Honor of the Queen

And my mind immediately went to David Weber and his Honor Harrington series. Doing Horatio Hornblower in Space! series is already a pretty conservative concept, but Weber took it up to eleven, especially at the start. We get the plucky little hereditary kingdom of Manticore as the standin for Georgian England and the *shudder* socialist welfare state People’s Republic Haven as the stand-in for ancien regime France, which gets its own revolution a few books into the series. But whereas real world France got it due to the relentless grinding down of farmers and middle classes by high taxation caused by feckless military adventurism as the French crown tried to compete with Great Britain and lost, here it’s because most of the population is on welfare and to finance it Haven has taken up the habit of taking over other star systems to pay for it. Haven is nefarious and ruthless, while Manticore is divided between steely eyed monarchists who see the danger and ineffectual peacenik liberals who’d rather stick their fingers in their ears than confront the danger. Most politicians, except those who vote for increased navy budgets, are gutless and venal, while the military on both sides are honourable and patriotic even when serving the wrong masters. Weber’s real ire is always at the ‘liberals’, invariably hypocrites, to the point it becomes funny rather than infuriating. His villains are also bad through and through, no room for shades of grey here.

Combine all this with a writing style that at best can be described as ‘functional’ and you may wonder why I’ve not only read but reread the series. It’s because Honor Harrington has the same quality as a good fanfic: first you want to keep reading to see what happens next, then you want to reread to see Honor kicking arse. Weber clearly is in love with his own protagonist: Honor is tall, physically imposing, convinced she isn’t beautfiul when she clearly is, smart and a tactical genius. Oh, and she also has an intelligent alien cat as a companion. A Mary Sue if there ever was one, but one the author would clearly like to fuck. That’s to be honest is what makes the series so readable, as Weber keeps giving her cool scenes and battles. For this I can ignore the dodgy politics, which in any case get slightly more bearable over the course of the series and never are as fascistic as some of his fellow Baen authors…