The Times once wrote that Mr Watson s short stories are spring-loaded with effect, compressed with a drama that, in others, might take a novel to eke out while the Times Literary Supplement went three Many of his stories contain enough intellectual substance to fuel a trilogy consequently this first-ever collection of his best stories might be the equivalent of 72 books. In An Appeal to Adolf the Third Reich invades England by way of very long battleships bridging the Channel, while two gay sailors fret about the Führer s hatred for Wittgenstein. In The Great Escape rebel angels set Hell in motion towards a very distant God, planning to harpoon the deity. Swimming with the Salmon tells of the seduction by pheromones of a Scottish priestess who looks after genetically engineered superfish; while in The Moon and Michelangelo a stone mason from Oxford achieves a petrifying transcendence on an alien planet. In Jerusalem a gate opens to a domain of inexplicable beings; while in ancient Babylon, recreated in the Arizona desert, immigrants from our own time encounter strange destinies. Here is science fiction of the highest calibre, and horror too, while other stories are surreally fantastical. So as to cut to the cream, this selection by the author is guided by public opinion in the form of nominations for awards, inclusion in best of the year anthologies as well as in other reprint volumes, and the number of translations over the years, although he has also slipped in some of his own less acknowledged favourites. Altogether this is an amazing showcase of treasures spanning 30 years from Ian Watson s pen (and typewriter, and computer).
Reading my "W"s short fiction list, I only read two stories here (not in a copy, but in file forms off the internet).
"Cold Light" - A bishop writes a book about how various forms of artificial illumination, throughout history, may have influenced the forms that "religion" took. But then, he begins to go blind, while also developing a halo. Not a bad little story, notable for being a "science fiction" take on religious belief and symbolism.
"The Bible In Blood" - A Mossad agent, his Jewish mother having been a Nazi's conscripted lover in the concentration camps, tracks down an infamous artifact from that same camp - an unfinished transcription of the Bible written by imprisoned Rabbis in their own blood, at the whim of the camp's commander (his father). As the story progresses, the legend of The Golem becomes involved. This was a bit convoluted but interesting.
One thing I cannot deny is the breadth of Ian Watson's imagination. These short stories run a gamut of ideas, and even flip a bit between genres. Watson is first and foremost recognised for his science fiction work, and that does provide the backbone of this collection, but he does dip into some other speculative fiction genres such as horror with some success. The wildness and variety of his ideas are what really stand out here, and even the older stories have aged relatively well because of this.
However, whilst I can respect the sheer variety of ideas I do struggle with a lot of the stories for a few reasons. He does have a habit of setting up a story with one expectation, before flipping it completely on its head in the last few paragraphs and going off on a wild tangent. Used sparingly, this technique could have been an interesting twist, but here it is just exhausting. The way his prose flows also tends to be a little bit distant. The characters in the stories all feel a little flat to me.
This is still an interesting read, and it shows well how his craft has developed over time. As a cheap punt from the PS2 sale section I am not unhappy with this - it was entertaining and a worthy read. His imagination is a fascinating thing
This was one of the most FRUSTRATING reads that I have encountered in my life.
Story-after-story began with intriguing promises. They snowballed over the pages, and over paragraphs that threatened to explode into frenzy of action, adventure, romance, wit, dry humour, horror. And then.... Nothing happened. The stories went nowhere. I went nowhere, except into murky depths of ponderous thoughts regarding the nature of stuff that the author might have used to con his way into being hallowed by Times Literary Supplement etc. Perhaps Donald Trump was only the latest effect. Post-truth, it seems, has long been there, working in its mysterious ways to declare drivel as 'science fiction of highest calibre, and horror too, while other stories are surreally fantastical.'
If you want to read stories, avoid this book. If, on the other hand, you are an insomniac searching for a soporific, look no further.