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The Secret of This Book: 20-Odd Stories
Even for a collection of Brian Aldiss stories, this book is unconventional. Many of these tales are interrelated, linked by their themes of life, death, and transformation. Commentary between the narratives shows how such themes are explored in storytelling - and, in one of the most amusing links, how a story may be stretched out until long after bedtime. The twenty stories almost become chapters in a long, curious, decidedly odd novel. Sometimes they are domestic, as in the tense "Making My Father Read Revered Writings"; sometimes they are startling and horrific, as in "Horse Meat." The disastrous human traits that make life infernal are here, as in "The Mistakes, Miseries and Misfortunes of Mankind," and so too are designs for a happier state of existence, as in "Three Moon Enigmas" and "Her Toes Were Beautiful on the Mountains." As is usual with Mr. Aldiss, humor is not lacking here, as in the profoundly Shakespearean "If Hamlet's Uncle Had Been a Nicer Guy," which demonstrates that the Prince of Denmark was losing the Battle of the Bulge, and in the bizarre glimpse of a cost-conscious heaven in "Evans in His Moment of Glory."
- GenresShort StoriesFiction
334 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1995
2 people are currently reading
35 people want to read
About the author
Brian W. Aldiss
833 books674 followersPseudonyms: Jael Cracken, Peter Pica, John Runciman, C.C. Shackleton, Arch Mendicant, & "Doc" Peristyle.
Brian Wilson Aldiss was one of the most important voices in science fiction writing today. He wrote his first novel while working as a bookseller in Oxford. Shortly afterwards he wrote his first work of science fiction and soon gained international recognition. Adored for his innovative literary techniques, evocative plots and irresistible characters, he became a Grand Master of Science Fiction in 1999.
Brian Aldiss died on August 19, 2017, just after celebrating his 92nd birthday with his family and closest friends.
Brian W. Aldiss Group on Good Reads
Brian Wilson Aldiss was one of the most important voices in science fiction writing today. He wrote his first novel while working as a bookseller in Oxford. Shortly afterwards he wrote his first work of science fiction and soon gained international recognition. Adored for his innovative literary techniques, evocative plots and irresistible characters, he became a Grand Master of Science Fiction in 1999.
Brian Aldiss died on August 19, 2017, just after celebrating his 92nd birthday with his family and closest friends.
Brian W. Aldiss Group on Good Reads
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
February 24, 2018
Before I begin ranting I want to say one good thing about Common Clay. The title story is extremely good. It's engaging, interesting, and ends on a delightfully odd note. Unfortunately it also begins the collection, so it's a downhill slide from there.
Most of the other stories are rather pretentious and overly literary. A few of them lean towards science fiction which is why I found it in that section of my local library, although honestly it wouldn't have been out of place in the main stacks. In between the stories are mini-essays that the cover description claims link the tales together but I couldn't see how. Maybe it would have made sense at the end but I didn't make it to the end. Yes, I'm reviewing an unfinished book. Why? Because I need to warn you about a particular story that ruined the whole thing for me. That story was "Horse Meat."
DO NOT READ “HORSE MEAT”
People, I cannot emphasize that sentence enough. Do not read that story. I did and I will never recover from the experience. It was traumatizing. Literally traumatizing. Not exaggerating even a little bit. That story has absolutely no redeeming value. I cannot believe it was actually published and not eradicated from the face of the Earth. Let me tell you why...
It takes place in a world where advanced technology has been banned, along with art. Galleries and museums are now prisons for political dissidents. The dictator is traveling around his dystopian paradise for some reason I don't think was ever made clear. At one city he is greeted by a minor functionary. This is a great honor for the functionary and will be a great boost to his career...until he is tricked into displaying a forbidden automobile to the dictator. He is thrown into art museum jail while the dictator goes about his business in the city.
During dinner the dictator finds a strange poem in a tureen directing him to a house with a brass rail. Dictator goes to the house which turns out to be the home of the minor functionary/now prisoner's family. Functionary's parents negotiate a deal with Dictator to free their son if they give him a night with their daughter. Dictator agrees and, after forcing Functionary's mother to...um...take care of him, arranges to have the daughter brought to his house.
What follows is truly repugnant. This is the bit that's still bothering me, days after I unwittingly read it. In a scene that is thankfully short but still entirely too detailed, Dictator ties the girl to his bed and calls his horse in to rape her. And then he rapes her. And then he tells his servants to take the possibly dead girl out of his house and throw her in the same jail where her brother is being held. As soon as she's dumped on the floor of the jail, her brother rapes her as well. Oh, and just because this isn't horrible enough, the girl is still alive at the end.
I feel completely justified in calling Brian Aldiss a sick bastard. I will never read anything with his name on it again. Also, every single editor that read that story and decided it should be kept in the collection is also a sick bastard who should have been fired immediately.
If you ever find the short story "Common Clay," you should read it. However if you find the book Common Clay please destroy it. Do not open it, do not handle it with your bare hands, and--I cannot emphasize this enough--do not read it. It is contaminated with "Horse Meat" and is not fit for human consumption.
Cross-posted from The Eclectic Reviewer.
Most of the other stories are rather pretentious and overly literary. A few of them lean towards science fiction which is why I found it in that section of my local library, although honestly it wouldn't have been out of place in the main stacks. In between the stories are mini-essays that the cover description claims link the tales together but I couldn't see how. Maybe it would have made sense at the end but I didn't make it to the end. Yes, I'm reviewing an unfinished book. Why? Because I need to warn you about a particular story that ruined the whole thing for me. That story was "Horse Meat."
DO NOT READ “HORSE MEAT”
People, I cannot emphasize that sentence enough. Do not read that story. I did and I will never recover from the experience. It was traumatizing. Literally traumatizing. Not exaggerating even a little bit. That story has absolutely no redeeming value. I cannot believe it was actually published and not eradicated from the face of the Earth. Let me tell you why...
It takes place in a world where advanced technology has been banned, along with art. Galleries and museums are now prisons for political dissidents. The dictator is traveling around his dystopian paradise for some reason I don't think was ever made clear. At one city he is greeted by a minor functionary. This is a great honor for the functionary and will be a great boost to his career...until he is tricked into displaying a forbidden automobile to the dictator. He is thrown into art museum jail while the dictator goes about his business in the city.
During dinner the dictator finds a strange poem in a tureen directing him to a house with a brass rail. Dictator goes to the house which turns out to be the home of the minor functionary/now prisoner's family. Functionary's parents negotiate a deal with Dictator to free their son if they give him a night with their daughter. Dictator agrees and, after forcing Functionary's mother to...um...take care of him, arranges to have the daughter brought to his house.
What follows is truly repugnant. This is the bit that's still bothering me, days after I unwittingly read it. In a scene that is thankfully short but still entirely too detailed, Dictator ties the girl to his bed and calls his horse in to rape her. And then he rapes her. And then he tells his servants to take the possibly dead girl out of his house and throw her in the same jail where her brother is being held. As soon as she's dumped on the floor of the jail, her brother rapes her as well. Oh, and just because this isn't horrible enough, the girl is still alive at the end.
I feel completely justified in calling Brian Aldiss a sick bastard. I will never read anything with his name on it again. Also, every single editor that read that story and decided it should be kept in the collection is also a sick bastard who should have been fired immediately.
If you ever find the short story "Common Clay," you should read it. However if you find the book Common Clay please destroy it. Do not open it, do not handle it with your bare hands, and--I cannot emphasize this enough--do not read it. It is contaminated with "Horse Meat" and is not fit for human consumption.
Cross-posted from The Eclectic Reviewer.
October 22, 2015
stories from the 90s. Entertaining
January 6, 2024
My favourite Brian Aldiss short-story collection...
The fact it is my favourite Brian Aldiss short-story collection suprises me a little, especially when we consider that his other collections include The Moment of Eclipse and Last Orders among many others of almost comparable brilliance.
The Secret of this Book is Aldiss past his prime. Aldiss was at his prime from the early 1960s to the mid 1980s. The stories in this collection were nearly all written in the 1990s. But although he was past his prime, his prime had been so utterly mighty that it had considerable momentum and that momentum carried him through triumphantly into the twilight of his career, so that meteors flashed in the skies of his twilight and cast brilliant if brief illumination over the planetary landscapes below. Or something like that.
The stories in this collection aren't exactly science fiction; they are more like fantasy, but they aren't exactly fantasy either. They are a curious mix of literary mainstream, fabulist, speculative, enigmatic, old-fashioned, experimental and whimsical. The stories are separated by musings, fragments of memories, brief conversations the author has decided to have with the reader. And the stories are tenuously linked, sometimes solidly linked, so that the whole is like a fragmented novel, a novel of genius, rather than a short-story collection...
Some of the stories are weary, eroded: they aren't like conventional stories, with tension and twists. They often end inconclusively in a way that would be unsatisfying if it wasn't for the fact of the momentum I mentioned earlier, the momentum of Aldiss' experience and erudition, his delight in variety and his love of existence. His enthusiasm for life, despite the tiredness of a tone that comes with age, carries him through every time, and this is a factor separate from the excellence of his ideas (oftentimes) and the force of his imagery (nearly always).
There is a wistful and even happy melancholy about this book; and if that sounds contradictory then I apologise, but I don't apologise with much conviction.
I like the tone of this kind of writing, the prose style, the assuredness that comes after many decades of prolific writing at a high level. Aldiss has elegance, experience and a sure touch. Even when he sometimes falters it is easy to forgive him, because he doesn't really require that forgiveness.
All the stories in this book are worth reading, but some (obviously) more than others. Even the title of the book pleases me, and the gentle wordplay of the subtitle ('20 Odd Stories'). Yet I have firm favourites among the treasures. 'How the Gates Opened and Closed' is a brief fable about indulgence and aesthetic decay. 'Headless' is a brief parable that reminded me strongly of Calvino's story 'Beheading the Heads', in the sense that it turns out to be a mild rebuke in satire form of the media (Calvino's version is a rebuke in satire form of government procedures). 'Three Moon Enigmas' and 'Her Toes Were Beautiful on the Mountains' are mini-trilogies, each containing three rather brutal and beautifully written stories about war, control, genocide and inevitable evil.
Even better were two longer stories, A Dream of Antigone' and 'The God Who Slept with Women', both of them founded on Greek mythology and drama: written with a classical precision that behind the formal presentation gives us glimpses of a wilder and older variety of paganism. The fusion of old and new, the mixing of darkness and light, the clash of male and female, and the ultimate blending of these and other complementary dissonances are not only the themes of these stories but the ultimate source of their compositional power.
Best of all, in my opinion, are (1) 'Horse Meat', the longest piece in the book, a phenomenally savage and astoundingly unpleasant tale about a future dystopia that must be one of the bleakest and most horrendous in all speculative fiction. The story is a nightmare, but as an example of literature it is superlative. And (2) 'Evans in His Moment of Glory', an outstanding fantasy set in a deeply strange and unsettling Afterlife. This is a story with an incredible ending and it has turned out to be one of the best Aldiss stories I have read, possibly the best (and I have read many). And definitely the best story I have read set in Heaven.
The fact it is my favourite Brian Aldiss short-story collection suprises me a little, especially when we consider that his other collections include The Moment of Eclipse and Last Orders among many others of almost comparable brilliance.
The Secret of this Book is Aldiss past his prime. Aldiss was at his prime from the early 1960s to the mid 1980s. The stories in this collection were nearly all written in the 1990s. But although he was past his prime, his prime had been so utterly mighty that it had considerable momentum and that momentum carried him through triumphantly into the twilight of his career, so that meteors flashed in the skies of his twilight and cast brilliant if brief illumination over the planetary landscapes below. Or something like that.
The stories in this collection aren't exactly science fiction; they are more like fantasy, but they aren't exactly fantasy either. They are a curious mix of literary mainstream, fabulist, speculative, enigmatic, old-fashioned, experimental and whimsical. The stories are separated by musings, fragments of memories, brief conversations the author has decided to have with the reader. And the stories are tenuously linked, sometimes solidly linked, so that the whole is like a fragmented novel, a novel of genius, rather than a short-story collection...
Some of the stories are weary, eroded: they aren't like conventional stories, with tension and twists. They often end inconclusively in a way that would be unsatisfying if it wasn't for the fact of the momentum I mentioned earlier, the momentum of Aldiss' experience and erudition, his delight in variety and his love of existence. His enthusiasm for life, despite the tiredness of a tone that comes with age, carries him through every time, and this is a factor separate from the excellence of his ideas (oftentimes) and the force of his imagery (nearly always).
There is a wistful and even happy melancholy about this book; and if that sounds contradictory then I apologise, but I don't apologise with much conviction.
I like the tone of this kind of writing, the prose style, the assuredness that comes after many decades of prolific writing at a high level. Aldiss has elegance, experience and a sure touch. Even when he sometimes falters it is easy to forgive him, because he doesn't really require that forgiveness.
All the stories in this book are worth reading, but some (obviously) more than others. Even the title of the book pleases me, and the gentle wordplay of the subtitle ('20 Odd Stories'). Yet I have firm favourites among the treasures. 'How the Gates Opened and Closed' is a brief fable about indulgence and aesthetic decay. 'Headless' is a brief parable that reminded me strongly of Calvino's story 'Beheading the Heads', in the sense that it turns out to be a mild rebuke in satire form of the media (Calvino's version is a rebuke in satire form of government procedures). 'Three Moon Enigmas' and 'Her Toes Were Beautiful on the Mountains' are mini-trilogies, each containing three rather brutal and beautifully written stories about war, control, genocide and inevitable evil.
Even better were two longer stories, A Dream of Antigone' and 'The God Who Slept with Women', both of them founded on Greek mythology and drama: written with a classical precision that behind the formal presentation gives us glimpses of a wilder and older variety of paganism. The fusion of old and new, the mixing of darkness and light, the clash of male and female, and the ultimate blending of these and other complementary dissonances are not only the themes of these stories but the ultimate source of their compositional power.
Best of all, in my opinion, are (1) 'Horse Meat', the longest piece in the book, a phenomenally savage and astoundingly unpleasant tale about a future dystopia that must be one of the bleakest and most horrendous in all speculative fiction. The story is a nightmare, but as an example of literature it is superlative. And (2) 'Evans in His Moment of Glory', an outstanding fantasy set in a deeply strange and unsettling Afterlife. This is a story with an incredible ending and it has turned out to be one of the best Aldiss stories I have read, possibly the best (and I have read many). And definitely the best story I have read set in Heaven.
February 17, 2009
Odd Stories is no joke. These stories are truly odd.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews