What makes Arthur C. CLARKE'S science fiction so vital?? He served in the army, during WWII:
"Do you know what this reminds me of?"
"Yes," said Stormgen promptly, "the time you were building illegal radio sets during the German occupation."
Duval looked disappointed.
"Well, I suppose I have mentioned that once or twice before."
Also, like any science fiction writer worth their salt -- Delany, Ballard, and Philip K. DICK come to mind -- Clarke knows that the outer reaches of space are, for one thing, a good way to introduce people to the vagaries of life on this planet:
"I'm convinced—but still baffled."
"I don't blame you. The full explanation wasn't worked out until late in the twentieth century. It seems that these luminous wheels are the results of submarine earthquakes, and always occur in shallow waters where the shock waves can be reflected and cause standing wave patterns. Sometimes bars, sometimes rotating wheels—the 'Wheels of Poseidon,' they've been called. The theory was finally proved by making underwater explosions and photographing the results from a satellite. No wonder sailors used to be superstitious. Who would have believed a thing like this?"
If there's anything Clarke might be accused of, on the other hand, it's "Jupiter WORSHIP":
"Look at India [on the 'large globe in the corner of Webster's office']—how small it seems. Well, if you skinned Earth and spread it out on the surface of Jupiter, it would look about as big as India does here."
There was a long silence while Webster contemplated the equation: Jupiter is to Earth as Earth is to India. Falcon had—deliberately, of course—chosen the best possible example . . .
The trend is, you might say, pervasive in this collection — how could something, composed of such mass, not compel our attention?? It seems to Clarke that, as the largest thing in our galaxy, it necessarily must suck all the attention devoted in it, to it, and he reflects this by having his characters act this way — in more than one story, it's the "archeological find of the Century," and such.
(But still, you gotta know people to write science fiction — or any fiction, of course, so why not:)
For once, neither Mitchell nor Chambers rose to the challenge. Indeed, they maintained a somewhat frigid silence. That's torn it, thought Saunders. I should have kept my big mouth shut; now I've hurt their feelings. I should have remembered that advice I read somewhere: "The British have two religions—cricket and the royal family. Never attempt to criticize either.
Of course this sort of thing goes on in J.G. Ballard's Millennium PEOPLE — and is lost in film adaptations. It's one of the reasons you need to read things, and voraciously at that — there's so much packed in there, it'd be easy to skip it, in a writer of quality.
(And that's the thing with Arthur C. Clarke — to write fiction like this, one would imagine you'd have to live well all year, and it makes you want to, it makes you tend to keep up if you can and have as a desire the need to make a world where such fiction is possible, the given, the way we go about things, not a virtue or two thrown in there.)
I'd hope . . .