A collection of Clarke’s short stories published 1947-57, and I’m reading them almost as an archaeological study. How has writing changed in the last 70 years? And, coincidentally, I’m playing a few hours of music from the 1960s, songs of my teenage years. I can still relate to the songs, they stir memories, they get my feet tapping, they trigger emotional responses. They still have immediacy, vibrancy, passion.
Clarke’s stories seem so dated, so sterile, they leave me cold.
The first, “The 9 billion names of god” is headed for an obvious conclusion and seems pointless.
“Refugee” – again obvious, again pointless, utterly pointless, and I hated it, it was vapid.
“Other side of the sky” – half a dozen cameos about life in space on a weather station under construction. The best of these is a sentimental tale about a canary. And there’s a curious indulgence in description of Earth celebrating the Millenium, happily without any concern about a Year 2K Apocalypse!
“The wall of darkness” is more of a fantasy than a sci-fi story, investigating the allegories of ‘wall’ … and I really couldn’t get excited let alone give a damn.
‘Security check” – at best an amusing little piece about TV science fiction.
“No morning after” – and further amusement as a scientist is contacted with warning of an impending Apocalypse.
“Venture to the Moon” – a series of tongue-in-cheek tales of the first expedition to the Moon … here portrayed as a cooperative exercise with three ships being launched by England, the USA and the USSR. Delusions of cooperation become realities of competition (the real delusion being that England was still a world power).
“Publicity campaign” – the publicity machine for a new sci-fi movie finds itself going places no one intended.
“Cosmic Casanova” – never mind a girl in every port, astronauts will have one on every planet.
“All the time in the world” – arguably the best story, but I couldn’t help feeling it was a bit simplistic, that tension and emotion could have been ratcheted up several degrees. A man is engaged to commit a crime by stepping outside time. I’d actually read this one before – it’s not a bad story.
“The star” – about a Jesuit astronaut (where have I seen that one before) and a story memorable only for the best line in the book – “It is three thousand years to the Vatican” … a great line only if you’ve spent the late 1950s and more than half the 1960s at a Catholic boys’ school in Scotland being sometimes violently taught science, history, Latin and Catechism by black-cassocked men whose minds must have been 2000 years old then.
“Out of the Sun” – a tale about the Sun which left me cold.
“Transience” – enigmatic, the most interesting of the stories … the description f a child walking across a beach conjured up images for me of the occasional fossil footprints found of our ancestors and stimulated a kaleidoscope of thoughts, allusions, narratives which otherwise owed nothing to the story.
And finally, “The songs of distant Earth”. Can’t help feeling this was over-written, that it needed a more terse style. A spaceship calls at a planet colonised long before. The longest story in the book, and I simply couldn’t get interested in it.
Overall, there’s a lack of sophistication to the stories – sci-fi has come a long way in 70-80 years. I love “2001” and some of Clarke’s longer works – you couldn’t see them as lacking sophistication. But, as short stories go, these are trivial.
Oh, a sense of humour emerges from place to place, there are themes which conjure major questions about space travel, science, the future … but.
Overall a real disappointment – to be read only as an archaeological exercise.