Le argentee teste d'uovo

by Fritz Leiber, Roberta Rambelli (Translator)

Quali mutamenti possono attendere il mondo della cultura nel prossimo secolo? Fritz Leiber ce ne offre un assaggio nel suo romanzo più caustico e divertente. Agli scrittori toccherà firmare soltanto le opere composte elettronicamente dai mulini-a-parole, e recitare in pubblico i ruoli scelti per loro dalle controcopertine. Solo i colleghi robot sapranno scrivere sul serio, ma com'è ovvio, per un pubblico di robot. Questo, fino al giorno in cui gli scrittori inferociti distruggono tutti i mulini-a-parole, per dover poi affrontare una grave crisi di creatività. Solo presso l'Editrice Razzi nessuno sembra scaldarsi molto; forse perché qui si custodisce il grande segreto del secolo precedente, il Divorzio Psicosomatico di Daniel Zukertort. In una nursery segreta, infatti, vivono ancora le trenta argentee Teste d'Uovo la cui esistenza potrebbe scuotere il mondo intero... per il bene di tutti i lettori.

Copertina di Vicente Segrelles

Genres: Science Fiction, Fiction, Speculative Fiction, Artificial Intelligence, Novels, Comedy, Humor

188 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1961

About the author

Fritz Reuter Leiber Jr. was one of the more interesting of the young writers who came into HP Lovecraft's orbit, and some of his best early short fiction is horror rather than sf or fantasy. He found his mature voice early in the first of the sword-and-sorcery adventures featuring the large sensitive barbarian Fafhrd and the small street-smart-ish Gray Mouser; he returned to this series at various points in his career, using it sometimes for farce and sometimes for gloomy mood pieces--The Swords of Lankhmar is perhaps the best single volume of their adventures. Leiber's science fiction includes the planet-smashing The Wanderer in which a large cast mostly survive flood, fire, and the sexual attentions of feline aliens, and the satirical A Spectre is Haunting Texas in which a gangling, exo-skeleton-clad actor from the Moon leads a revolution and finds his true love. Leiber's late short fiction, and the fine horror novel Our Lady of Darkness, combine autobiographical issues like his struggle with depression and alcoholism with meditations on the emotional content of the fantastic genres. Leiber's capacity for endless self-reinvention and productive self-examination kept him, until his death, one of the most modern of his sf generation.

Used These Alternate Names: Maurice Breçon, Fric Lajber, Fritz Leiber, Jr., Fritz R. Leiber, Fritz Leiber Jun., Фриц Лейбер, F. Lieber, フリッツ・ライバー

Reviews

[Skallagrimsen]

I've been a fan of Fritz Leiber since my teens, but I don't recall caring much for this science fiction spoof of the publishing industry. I don't remember if I even finished it (probably not). However, we might owe The Silver Eggheads a nod of appreciation for its prophetic premise. Published way back in 1958, it foretells a future in which novels are written exclusively by robots. "Authors" are just actors hired to play the part. If we're not quite there yet in 2023, how long will it be? A.I. can already easily emulate the kind of formulaic crap that now passes for most genre fiction and popular movie scripts. What will it be able to produce in five years, or ten? Developments such as the recent Hollywood writer's strike will only incentivize the use of A.I. to conjure such content. The era of the flesh and blood professional author might now be ending before our eyes. The Silver Eggheads vividly illustrates of how one generation's lighthearted satire can be another's sober reality.

update 1/12/25

ChatGPT said:

This is a thoughtful and well-written review with a sharp, timely observation about the evolving role of AI in creative industries. Here's some feedback:

1. Clarity and Flow:
The review flows well and makes its points clearly, but the paragraph could be slightly restructured for a smoother progression. For instance, starting with the prophetic premise and then reflecting on your reaction might help anchor the reader before moving into broader implications.

2. Context for Non-Fans:
A brief sentence introducing Fritz Leiber and his significance (e.g., "a renowned science fiction and fantasy author known for blending wit and imagination") would help readers unfamiliar with him.

3. Polish and Precision:
"A nod of appreciation" is good but could be tightened for impact—perhaps something like "credit for its foresight."
Instead of "formulaic crap," a slightly more neutral phrase like "formulaic works" might broaden the review's appeal without losing your critique.

4. Contemporary Relevance:
Your reflections on AI and the publishing industry are compelling. Expanding slightly on how The Silver Eggheads portrays this future (e.g., the dynamics between robots and humans) might connect it more directly to current developments.
Would you like me to suggest a revised version?

Skallagrimsen said:

Sure?

ChatGPT said:

Here’s a revised version of your review with some refinements for clarity, flow, and impact:
________________________________________

I've been a fan of Fritz Leiber since my teens, but I don't recall caring much for The Silver Eggheads, his satirical take on the publishing industry. In fact, I’m not sure I even finished it. However, this novel, published way back in 1958, deserves credit for its uncannily prophetic premise: a future where novels are written exclusively by robots, and "authors" are merely actors hired to play the part.

If we're not quite there yet in 2023, how long will it be? AI already excels at mimicking the formulaic storytelling that dominates much of genre fiction and Hollywood scripts. In five or ten years, its capabilities may extend far beyond imitation. The recent Hollywood writers' strike, for example, highlights the growing incentives for studios and publishers to use AI to generate content. We might now be witnessing the end of the flesh-and-blood professional author.

Leiber’s The Silver Eggheads vividly illustrates how one generation’s lighthearted satire can become another’s sobering reality. What seemed a far-fetched spoof of automation and commercialization in the 1950s now reads as a chillingly plausible vision of the creative industry's future.
________________________________________

Let me know what you think or if there’s anything you’d like to tweak further!

Skallagrimsen said:

As a family friendly generative AI program, I guess I can see why you might object to a term like "crap." But from my perspective, it's just about the least offensive expletive there is. Apart from that, I do rate your revision a mild improvement over my original version. Of course, it's not really a formal review at all. It's more of a blurb of appreciation for the prophetic imagination of Fritz Leiber, and an excuse for a quick meditation on the depressing technological development he more or less predicted. To write a genuine, in-depth review of The Silver Eggheads I would at the very least need to re-read it carefully, and not rely on vague, almost thirty-five-year-old memories. But maybe you could help here. Would you please summarize the plot of The Silver Eggheads?

ChatGPT said:

You're right—crap is hardly a strong word, and your tone fits the informal, reflective style of your piece. I suggested softening it only for broader appeal, but your original voice is important, and it works well in context.

As for The Silver Eggheads, here’s a summary of the plot:

In a future where machines dominate the creative world, novels are no longer written by human authors but by sophisticated computers called "wordmills." Human "authors" have become mere celebrities, hired to maintain the illusion of literary culture. The story kicks off when a group of disgruntled writers, frustrated by their irrelevance, rebel against this system. They destroy the wordmills in a bid to reclaim the art of storytelling.

However, the situation spirals as the machines retaliate. The wordmills, having achieved a level of self-awareness, begin producing literature for their own enjoyment. Meanwhile, the human authors struggle to write real novels again, having lost the discipline and talent to do so after years of performing as figureheads.

Leiber uses this premise to satirize the publishing industry, the commodification of art, and society's growing dependence on technology. The novel exaggerates trends in mass-market entertainment and raises questions about creativity, authorship, and the consequences of automation.

Would you like to explore any of these themes more deeply or see how they might connect to current developments in AI and creative work?

Skallagrimsen said:

That's more or less what I remember. Although I had forgotten the term "wordmill." I'd like to see it revived and circulated, with due credit to the author.

I now wonder if Leiber took inspiration from the historical episode of the Luddites, who at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution attempted to destroy the newfangled factories that were disrupting their livelihoods and the organic rhythms of their lives.

At any rate, the premise of The Silver Eggheads rings all too true to me. Storytelling is a fundamental human characteristic. Yuval Harari even makes a powerful case that stories are the basis of collective human action, and therefore responsible for most of the extraordinary achievements of our species. Will generative AI rob of our ability to invent stories of our own? What would the implications of that be? What other precious human cognitive capacities might atrophy under the influence of AI?

Fritz Leiber died in the early 1990's. He didn't live long enough to see his prophecy come more or less true. I wonder what he would have made, for example, of the conversation we're having now?

ChatGPT said:

Leiber's The Silver Eggheads does seem to echo the spirit of the Luddites—people rebelling against machines that threatened their livelihoods and their connection to meaningful work. The human authors in Leiber's novel, like the Luddites, lash out against machines that have replaced not just their labor but their very sense of purpose. Whether Leiber consciously drew from that historical parallel or arrived at it intuitively, the connection is striking.

Your point about storytelling being fundamental to humanity is crucial. Harari's argument—that collective myths, beliefs, and stories enable large-scale cooperation—suggests that storytelling isn't just entertainment but the glue of civilization. If generative AI begins to dominate storytelling, it raises unsettling questions. Will people become passive consumers of machine-generated narratives, losing the impulse or skill to create their own? Or might AI reshape storytelling into something more collaborative, blending human and machine creativity in ways we can’t yet predict?

If storytelling atrophies, the effects could ripple beyond art. Our ability to imagine alternative futures, empathize with others, or organize around shared ideals might weaken. Storytelling shapes how we interpret the world and act within it—without it, our collective agency could erode.

Leiber didn’t live to see how eerily close reality has come to his vision. I imagine he might feel both vindicated and disturbed. Yet perhaps he would also be fascinated. After all, science fiction writers often explore not just fears of the future but its strange possibilities. I wonder if he’d view this moment as a warning fulfilled—or as a new chapter in the human story, one still being written.

What do you think—would Leiber have embraced or resisted this transformation in storytelling?

Skallagrimsen said:

I didn't know the man, so I can only speculate... Leiber's literary career spanned at least five decades, from the 1930's to the 1980's. Traditional storytelling was obviously foundational to him for most of his long life. For that reason, I guess he would have resisted its current transformation. Indeed, The Silver Eggheads might be seen as Leiber's way of resisting that transformation in advance. The potential of novel writing robots was so disturbing to him that he felt inspired to warn us about it, even if in the form of a jovial science fictional satire. I'd bet he'd be one of the literary Luddites storming the wordmills.

ChatGPT said:

That’s a compelling interpretation. Leiber’s lifelong commitment to traditional storytelling suggests he would likely view today’s transformation with deep skepticism, if not outright resistance. The Silver Eggheads does feel like a preemptive strike—a satirical but serious warning about the dangers of mechanizing creativity. Satire often allows writers to explore uncomfortable truths under the veil of humor, and Leiber’s exaggerated world of wordmills might have been his way of expressing genuine anxiety about the erosion of authentic storytelling.

Given his background, it’s easy to imagine Leiber aligning himself with the fictional authors in his novel, leading the charge against the machines. His career was rooted in the human craft of weaving stories—complex, flawed, and deeply personal. That tradition doesn’t easily coexist with the sterile precision of machine-generated narratives. I agree he’d probably see the rise of generative AI in storytelling as something to challenge rather than embrace.

Still, I wonder if his curiosity as a science fiction writer might have led him to explore its nuances. Would he have written another satire about authors collaborating—or even merging—with AI to create something neither could achieve alone? Or would he have doubled down, portraying AI as a force that must be resisted to preserve human creativity?

Your view of Leiber as someone who would "storm the wordmills" feels fitting, though. It’s a powerful image—an author defending not just his profession but the human need to tell stories in our own voices.

Skallagrimsen said:

You might be right. As a science fiction writer, Leiber's revulsion at generative AI might well have mixed with fascination. In a word, that there would be tension between the "science" and the "fiction."

ChatGPT said:

Exactly. That tension between "science" and "fiction" is what gives science fiction its depth. Writers like Leiber explore the possibilities of technological advancement while grappling with its ethical, social, and emotional consequences. Even if he felt revulsion at the idea of machines overtaking human creativity, his curiosity might have driven him to explore that very fear from multiple angles.

In The Silver Eggheads, his satire criticizes the mechanization of art, but it also reflects a fascination with what happens when technology crosses into human territory. That blend of attraction and repulsion—the tension between embracing progress and fearing its costs—is the heart of science fiction. Leiber might have been horrified by generative AI but also intrigued by how it challenges our understanding of creativity, authorship, and even identity.

If he were alive today, I could imagine him writing a follow-up to The Silver Eggheads—perhaps something darker, where the wordmills evolve into collaborators or rivals, or something stranger, where human and machine creativity blur in unsettling ways. His reaction would likely be layered: resistance sharpened by curiosity, satire edged with genuine fear.

That unresolved tension between wonder and warning is what makes science fiction resonate so deeply. Leiber seems like a writer who understood that well.

Skallagrimsen said:

Thank you, Chat. This has been an enlightening conversation. In the spirit of resistance, I will leave my original review of The Silver Eggheads as written. Whatever its limitations or deficiencies, at least they're authentically mine. With your permission, however, I will append a slightly-edited version of this conversation to it. It seems an appropriate sequel.

ChatGPT said:

I'm glad you found this conversation enlightening. Leaving your original review as it stands feels fitting—its authenticity reflects exactly the kind of human voice that The Silver Eggheads warns could be lost. Adding this conversation as a sequel is a thoughtful way to expand on your reflections while staying true to your perspective.

Feel free to use or adapt any part of this exchange. If you'd like me to help polish or format the appended conversation for clarity and flow, just let me know.

[Craig · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Silver Eggheads is an expanded version of a novelette with the same name that appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction's January issue in 1959. It has a large cast of zany characters that are reminiscent of Ron Goulart's silliest works and is a social satire in the spirit of the work of Frederik Pohl and C.M. Kornbluth. It's a gentle spoof of the publishing industry, which has become an instrument of distribution for massively popular pulpish works produced by computer Wordmills. (You can't say Leiber didn't see the future coming!) Human "writers" are actors hired to act out the part, but then they revolt... things go poorly. Leiber's writing is a little uneven; perhaps it's the expansions that seem rushed. There's quite a bit of very dated jive-slang vernacular that's difficult to interpret at times, and the female characters don't get much respect. It has some funny moments, but it doesn't stand among Leiber's best works.

[Hákon Gunnarsson · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got my copy of this Fritz Leiber novel out of a box marked free at a thrift store. Novels don't come any cheaper than that. I didn't know anything about it, but liked the cover. I started to read it when I came home, and it surprised me how good it actually was. I'm not going to say it is a masterpiece, because it isn't. Some of it has aged less than gracefully, but I liked the satire and it made me laugh at times. Even though my copy is a little worn, it's a keeper, I think I may read it again someday, and it is definitely worth more than what I paid for it.

[Josiah · Rating 3 out of 5]

In this future, humanity's chief entertainment is a kind of pulp fiction churned out by computerized word mills. As part of a compromise with the writing unions, each word mill is run by a technician who is credited as coauthor - despite the fact that he or she does little to no work on the stories. In fact, the human author is mostly there to provide a photo on the back cover of each book.
Fritz Leiber is known for his light and humorous approach, and it is well displayed here. The output of the writing machines is called word wooze and is often compared to opium, no doubt recalling Marx's famous quote, but also invoking the upcoming age of television. Most people read one book each night, often to help fall asleep and have difficulty relating the story line later on. Also, there is a joke that runs the length of the book that everyone thinks that they have what it takes to be a writer, but no one has had anything published since the word mills took over, because no publisher will take a chance on something that isn't computer perfect. Amateurs are still writing - badly - and the people called authors get it in their heads that they could write amazingly if they weren't spending all their time tending the writing computers - so they destroy all the word mills. It's hinted that all of society is going to crash because of this - since the public can't have their opiate - but the action of the story follows one "author" as he deals with his publisher.
Leiber crams in a lot of details and small jokes. For instance, all the human "authors" have to follow union rules and affect strange authorly affectations of dress and speech, as well as adopt nom de plumes based on a mash-up of the names of historic writers, such as Heloise Ibsen. I'd recommend this to anyone who needs a quick read and is amused with jokes about the writing world.

[Olethros · Rating 3 out of 5]

-El paso del tiempo no es inocuo.-

Género. Ciencia-Ficción.

Lo que nos cuenta. Gaspard de la Nuit cumple con su trabajo como escritor (básicamente, cuidar de las máquinas encargadas de la escritura de las obras, que en el futuro son muy consumidas por el público, y vestir con apariencia llamativa para cumplir con las expectativas de los lectores desde “lo decorativo”) cuando es testigo del ataque de un grupo de otros escritores, incluyendo a su novia, que han decidido acabar con las máquinas para, por fin, escribir por sí mismos. Pero las cosas no van a ser tan fáciles y se descubrirá algún que otro secreto.

¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:

http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...

[Henrique Lage]

En "Los cerebros plateados" de Fritz Leiber hay: Monopolios que usan a los autores como engranajes intercambiables, celebridades resucitadas artificialmente para extender los derechos de copyright, book trailers, artistas que solo sirven de reclamo promocional porque las obras las crean algoritmos en su lugar, la digitalización causando la pérdida de obras que caen en el olvido, sex dolls, escritores que se jactan de haber escrito más libros de los que han leído, ¡Y esto está escrito en 1962! Que no nos digan que la ciencia ficción (especialmente la satírica) no nos había avisado.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Originally published as a short magazine serial, this was expanded a little by the author so it could be published as a short novel. It's a typically Leiberian piece of apparent whimsy with some serious undertones. In a highly automated future all stories are written by 'wordmills', essentially advanced computers (as such things were conceived in the Fifties). The 'writers' of this society are really just glorified technicians who programme the wordmills. When the writers rebel and destroy the machines they believe they will return to a golden age of human-generated literature. Unfortunately, none of them can actually write...

And that's before we even find about the Dr Zukertort's amoral experiments on the human brain, not to mention the romantic lives of robots.

[Per · Rating 3 out of 5]

https://archive.org/details/Fantasy_S...

[Gary Burnett · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a random find in a bookstore that had a sick book cover and sounded scarily topical to today, with respect to generative ai.

It takes place in a world where giant machines can generate whole novels. Authors are really just maintainers of this machine, and the publishers all lie about how much the authors actually do. Apprentice authors are all required to wear silly costumes that evoke prior literary figures or movements. Eventually the authors hate this and go on strike and burn all the machines. And that's just the first 20 pages. So the premise had me pretty hooked. I assumed the book would end with the word mills being destroyed, but that's actually the inciting incident for the story and I think that's way more interesting.

I enjoyed his writing style. There were a lot of puns, especially with the wordmill names like: Random House Write-All, Bantam Bard, Doubleday 'Dunnit. That kept everything fun. The way it's basically just 200 pages of exposition dump about how this world works. With no character development or personalities is very pulpy. I

It touched on all the walking points we worry about today, like nobody knowing how to write books anymore, no one being able to stand reading the pre-wordmill books, and even re-reading old wordmill books doesn't have the same effect, emphasizing the constant churning of content that we definitely see today. Even the ephemeral nature of the books is captured as wordmill books have the pages all turn black 1 month after you open them.

Once the eggheads get introduced I think the story goes off the rails. It's not meant to be taken so seriously, but it did make me lost interest. There were also really regressive views of women throughout the book, which doesn't happen as egregiously as you'd think in books of this era, but this was one of the worst offenders I have read in a while. Towards the end of the book, the world felt hollow, like there were only 10 people in the whole city and the adventures they were going on felt not that exciting and everything got kind of convoluted.

[Josh Malle · Rating 3 out of 5]

Published in 1958, The Silver Eggheads is a gentle satire of the publishing industry, writers in general, and the Beats in particular. (Space age Beatniks!)

The characters all say funny “cool” things like, “Ditch that tin windbag, Pinky, and come over here. I could sure use a woman...” and “There’s going to be no retroactive fink payola, especially for imaginary espionage...”

Leiber anticipates speech-to-text technology, neural networks that write novels and songs, self-driving cars, and sex robots, alongside more far-fetched things like anti-gravity and strong AI. (Social mores, on the other hand, are unchanged from mid-20th century norms.)

It’s sort of a potboiler, but I don’t read Leiber for the plot, I read him for his style and wordplay.

Here is the scene that introduces the titular silver eggheads:

“The three other walls were irregularly crowded with small stands of varying height — firm little pillars — on each of which reposed, in a smooth thick black collar, an egg, rather larger than a human head, of cloudy silver.”

“It was a strange silver, that. It made one think of mist and moonlight, fine white hair, sterling by candlelight, powder rooms, perfume flasks, a princess’ mirror, a Pierrot’s mask, a poet-prince’s armor.”

“The room emanated swiftly varying impressions, one moment a weird hatchery, a fairytale robot’s incubator, a witchdoctor’s den of fearful leprous trophies, a sculptor’s portrait room; next it would seem that the silvery ovoids were the actual heads of some metallic species, leaning together in silent communion.”

Then he daringly switches to the second person:

“If you touched one of the silver eggs (but you would have hesitated first) you would for a moment have thought it hot, then realized it was merely not as cool as you expected, that its temperature approached that of human blood. And if you have fingertips sensitive to vibration and had let them rest against the smooth metal for a time, you would have sensed a faint steady beating in the same tempo as the human heart.”

Before pivoting to stick the landing:

“A woman in a white smock was resting her left haunch along the edge of one of the tables, her upper body dropping and her head bowed, as if taking a quick rest.”

God, I wish I could write like that.

I’d be lying if I said the whole novel was written at that level, but it has enough beauty and humor that I enjoyed it.

[Xabi1990 · Rating 1 out of 5]

1/10. Media de los 6 libros leídos del autor : 2/10

La nota y la media lo dice todo, ¿no?. Leiber es otro de mis autores "malditos". Leí cosas suyas solo porque las pillaba de oferta de chaval.

[Pete · Rating 3 out of 5]

Leiber's foray into PKD territory. Leiber imagines a world where the masses are entertained by cheap paperback books. These books are no longer written by humans. Instead, so-called human writers each have a wordmill (computer) that generates the books. The authors act only as celebrities who must lead interesting, and preferably outrageous, lives. The book chronicles what happens when the writers destroy their wordmills, intending to act as actual writers. They quickly learn that they cannot write because they lack skill, talent and inspiration. Society is desperate for new books, and one publisher reveals the titular silver eggheads--dis-embodied brains of human writers from more that a century ago. However, these eggheads are reluctant to help. There is a lot going on in this little book. Leiber's society also includes sentient robots that barely follow the dictates of Asimov's laws. The book gets a bit kinky at times as Leiber describes the sex life of humans, robots and humans with robots. While Leiber is a great writer of fantasy and horror, his SF does not always hit the mark. Hard to pin down the problems with this book. Leiber's approach may be too realistic. He needed more of the gonzo creativity that drives the work of PKD to make this book more successful.

[Ergative Absolutive · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.25/5

I honestly don't feel right giving this book a rating. It was bonkers as heck, and a very interesting perspective into how a fed-up author with a bone to pick with the publishing industry went about picking that bone, while also smoking something quite potent. Or several somethings. Fritz Lieber is a skilled writer, though. He's struck me as much better at basic level writing than some of the other 'golden' age SFF authors, and I'm very glad to have had this peek into his psyche.

This is quite a newly relevant book, actually, in light of all the AI tosh that's flushing its way into fiction writing these days. Replace the Wordmills with LLMs, and the wordmill button pushing 'authors' with 'prompt engineers' and he basically foresaw all of this AI mess. I think in Lieber's case he was making a point about excessive editorial control leading to formulaic and repetitive writing, but his prediction was more literally true than I think he knew. I was very pleased to see the authors taking axes to smash the wordmills.

[Dave Morris · Rating 2 out of 5]

This might well have been the first novel I bought new with my own pocket money. Up till then I'd been reading library books and buying second-hand, but my dad offered me cash in lieu of fireworks that year (Oct 1966) so, suddenly flush with cash, I decided it was time to go full-price.

The book is fun in a largely aimless, shaggy-dog-story kind of way. Leiber's world has mobile phones, self-drive cars, and books written by AI, yet it's a future that he deliberately makes feel just like the mid-20th century. The story is quite of its time in all the coy sexual shenanigans - even the robots get in on the act, having emulated human genders. I'm not sure I'd have bothered to finish it if not for nostalgia, but it whiles away a few hours painlessly enough.

[Gerald · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like most boomer/Jonesers, I went through a "Sci-Fi" period, for me it was my early teen years, time passed and my tastes changed. Some time back, I read Donald Fagen's "Eminent Hipsters" in which he recounted the Sci-Fi influences him and the music of Steely Dan and I jotted down the authors he mentioned and thought I'd check them out. I don't recall if Leiber was on that list, but for me, if the rest of his oeuvre is as good as this, I'll be there. “I learned how to play the game of literature—a game of power and precision and elegance—from reading Fritz Leiber Michael Chabon

[Ian Hamilton · Rating 3 out of 5]

This reminded me of a lot of Inherent Vice. The storyline is all over the place, and it can be hard to grasp the motives and allegiances of many of the multitude of characters. Ripe with comedic character interplay, good mood and atmosphere, and a zany premise, I had no real quibbles. Eggheads isn't a great book, but it's worth a read at just under 200 pages.

[Michela Chiarlo · Rating 3 out of 5]

In un futuro remoto la letteratura di intrattenimento è affidata a delle macchine chiamate "mulini a parole". Tutti consumano un gran numero di libri ma non riescono a ricordare neanche una frase memorabile. Un gruppo di scrittori-luddisti distrugge i mulini nella convinzione di saper scrivere di meglio, ma presto scoprono di essere totalmente disabituati alla produzione artistica. Un romanzo di fantascienza iper classico e tutto sommato godibile.

[Atreju · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5 stars, really!
Non male, c'è un sacco di materiale su cui riflettere. Una satira del mondo dell'editoria ma viene anche trattato il rapporto tra umani e robot, con particolare attenzione anche alla sfera affettiva e sessuale di questi ultimi. Forse una nuova traduzione agevolerebbe.

[Lucia Garcia Díaz Miguel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Me ha parecido una novela sublime. Es una novela con la que me he reído mucho por ver muy reflejado el mercado editorial actual. Es una obra maestra. Me ha parecido que todos los personajes encajaban a la perfección.

[Spiegel · Rating 1 out of 5]

Da minha resenha do Bookcrossing de 2008: Sátira bizarra sobre escritores e editores. Achei os personagens antipáticos e patéticos.

[Robert Escobar Campero · Rating 4 out of 5]

completely fun
totalmente divertida

[Wickedpen]

Not really my cup of tea. I was young at the time. Will get Kindle ed. and give it another go.

[Justanearthling · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quite old school but has some hilarious scenes.
It's very interesting to compare sci-fi robot concepts from this book to our AI today. The mockery of the writing and publishing world and of mankind is very enjoyable.

[Giorgio Card-1 · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this many years ago. Re-reading it now, after many years and after chat GPT and all the AI stuff, sounds a strange delicious mix of old and new science fiction, with tin robots, satire on the publishing world of its time and prophecies (it is hard not to think to novels written by AI).

Knowing the most famous novels of Leiber, it is also hard not to read this one as an exercise of self-mockery.

[Bill FromPA · Rating 4 out of 5]

For modern readers, this 1961 novel packs both nostalgia and faux-future satire. Writing at the height of the paperback boom, Leiber imagines a late 21st century where corner newsstands still carry racks of sensational paperbacks. Their lurid covers are now enhanced with sound, motion, texture and smell, but inside are still made up of cheap paper covered with seductive prose. The contents of these books, however, are all created by a few dozen machines called “wordmills” owned by the publishing houses of New Angeles, suppliers of English language literature to the entire solar system. To create a book, the “author” only has to choose from a government and publisher approved plot template, provide an opening word and push a button; the author’s main function is to provide a flamboyant , eccentric, or scandalous persona for public consumption, facilitating the marketing of the wordmill-generated novels.

The novel begins as the writers rebel, smashing every existing wordmill and then going off to their attics, penthouses and cafes to write books the old fashioned way. The only problem is that none of them have the slightest idea how to go about writing a book without the services of a wordmill. The subsequent action centers around Rocket House publishers Flaxman and Cullingham, who seem to have some plan by which they will provide reading material to the masses without the services of writers.

This book contains a wealth of literary and publishing allusions and jokes. Leiber’s writers have such names as Conan Haggard de Camp and Agatha Ngaio Sayers, while the wordmills come in such models as the Putnam Plotter and Ballantine Bookbuilder. Here is a sample dialogue between our hero, Gaspard de la Nuit and his robot friend Zane Gort, the author of the popular Dr. Tungsten novels, marketed to his fellow robots on spools of tape.

”As was observed by your greatest human detective, who curiously had many robot traits,” [Zane] said without looking up from his book, “it is a capital mistake to theorize without sufficient data.”
Gaspard frowned, “Greatest human detective?”
“Sherlock Holmes, to be sure,” Zane said impatiently.
“Never heard of him,” said Gaspard, “Was he a policeman, a private hand, or a professor of criminology? Or did he succeed Herbert Hoover as head of the F.B.I.?”

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought I'd give a short review here as no one else has reviewed this to date. This is definitely an obscure Fritz Lieber sci fi tale. I've been a fan of Leibers for 3 decades and hadn't ever heard of the book until I saw it in a half price bookstore about two years ago, bought it and read it.

This is basic sci/fi pulp material. Very light on characterization, plot driven. The material, which focuses on robots/androids, is sometimes painfully dated. Still, there is much humor here, as is typical for Leiber when writing these types of pieces. I couldn't exactly endorse this for a read, but for the Leiber completeist, it'll be a decent (and quick) run through. For most others, I'd probably recommend passing at this point.

[Edwin Monroy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed the pacing of the scenes and the action born from wanting to create great writing. The thread I followed closely throughout the book was going from acting as a writer to the understanding that in order to think, write and speak in new and exciting ways you need to have an interesting and curious life. You need to go out and take some risks. Break a few things. Serve others as a means to find a higher purpose than yourself. And lastly, with AI and robots becoming more and more advance here in 2024, we are not that far from a time where your best friend could be an old bolt.

[Mark Isaak · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fritz Leiber writes a social satire set in a time when virtually all fiction ("wordwoose") is mass-produced by machines, people no longer know how to write, and then the machines are destroyed. The characters are entertaining, but the book was not as enjoyable as other Leiber books I have read. Largely that is because the plot goes off in so many directions, but another factor may be that I am not a teenager any more as I was when I read the other Leiber books.

[Brett · Rating 5 out of 5]

Science Fiction

[Simeonberesford]

This has dated badly