Twenty-second century historian George Miller is completely dedicated to his job studying the history and culture of the twentieth century, and has even created an accurate replica of a twentieth-century dwelling. But when George investigates an odd noise in the exhibit, he stumbles upon a strange reality existing inside of his replica. Philip K. Dick was an American science-fiction novelist, short-story writer and essayist. His first short story, “Beyond Lies the Wub,” was published shortly after his high school graduation. Some of his most famous short stories were adapted for film, including “The Minority Report,” “Paycheck,” “Second Variety” (adapted into the film Screamers ) and “We Can Remember It For You Wholesale” (adapted into the film Total Recall ). HarperCollins brings great works of literature to life in digital format, upholding the highest standards in ebook production and celebrating reading in all its forms. Look for more titles in the HarperCollins short-stories collection to build your digital library.
Philip Kindred Dick was a prolific American science fiction author whose work has had a lasting impact on literature, cinema, and popular culture. Known for his imaginative narratives and profound philosophical themes, Dick explored the nature of reality, the boundaries of human identity, and the impact of technology and authoritarianism on society. His stories often blurred the line between the real and the artificial, challenging readers to question their perceptions and beliefs. Raised in California, Dick began writing professionally in the early 1950s, publishing short stories in various science fiction magazines. He quickly developed a distinctive voice within the genre, marked by a fusion of science fiction concepts with deep existential and psychological inquiry. Over his career, he authored 44 novels and more than 100 short stories, many of which have become classics in the field. Recurring themes in Dick's work include alternate realities, simulations, corporate and government control, mental illness, and the nature of consciousness. His protagonists are frequently everyday individuals—often paranoid, uncertain, or troubled—caught in surreal and often dangerous circumstances that force them to question their environment and themselves. Works such as Ubik, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, and A Scanner Darkly reflect his fascination with perception and altered states of consciousness, often drawing from his own experiences with mental health struggles and drug use. One of Dick’s most influential novels is Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, which served as the basis for Ridley Scott’s iconic film Blade Runner. The novel deals with the distinction between humans and artificial beings and asks profound questions about empathy, identity, and what it means to be alive. Other adaptations of his work include Total Recall, Minority Report, A Scanner Darkly, and The Man in the High Castle, each reflecting key elements of his storytelling—uncertain realities, oppressive systems, and the search for truth. These adaptations have introduced his complex ideas to audiences well beyond the traditional readership of science fiction. In the 1970s, Dick underwent a series of visionary and mystical experiences that had a significant influence on his later writings. He described receiving profound knowledge from an external, possibly divine, source and documented these events extensively in what became known as The Exegesis, a massive and often fragmented journal. These experiences inspired his later novels, most notably the VALIS trilogy, which mixes autobiography, theology, and metaphysics in a narrative that defies conventional structure and genre boundaries. Throughout his life, Dick faced financial instability, health issues, and periods of personal turmoil, yet he remained a dedicated and relentless writer. Despite limited commercial success during his lifetime, his reputation grew steadily, and he came to be regarded as one of the most original voices in speculative fiction. His work has been celebrated for its ability to fuse philosophical depth with gripping storytelling and has influenced not only science fiction writers but also philosophers, filmmakers, and futurists. Dick’s legacy continues to thrive in both literary and cinematic spheres. The themes he explored remain urgently relevant in the modern world, particularly as technology increasingly intersects with human identity and governance. The Philip K. Dick Award, named in his honor, is presented annually to distinguished works of science fiction published in paperback original form in the United States. His writings have also inspired television series, academic studies, and countless homages across media. Through his vivid imagination and unflinching inquiry into the nature of existence, Philip K. Dick redefined what science fiction could achieve. His work continues to challenge and inspire, offering timeless insights into the human condition a
First published in If (August 1954), “Exhibit Piece” is a memorable “Twilight Zone” sort of tale in which a precisely constructed world becomes real, but although it exults in the realized fantasy, the phony world “made flesh,” it has dark strain of Dickian paranoia (conformity, repression, atomic destruction) that runs through it too.
George Miller doesn’t like the rigid, conformist society in which he lives, but he does enjoy his job at the History Agency, where he specializes in the mid-twentieth century. In fact, he likes the job—and the period—so much that he wears a precise replica of a mid-twentieth century suit just to maintain the proper mood. One morning, newly arrived at work, he hears a noise in the back of the 1950’s America exhibit, and goes to investigate. There he admires a house of the period, furnished in precise detail. And inside the house, there are children. And a woman who says she is his wife.
How George Miller deals with this new reality—or is it merely a persistent hallucination?— is the subject of this compelling short story. It also shows how the1950’s—although it emphasized conformity—may be clearly preferable to the humorless, regimented world to come.
One thing I like about the story is the way it ends. That story Miller reads in the paper . . . is it a real 50’s news story, or an invention of the History Agency? Is George Miller simply one of the mentally ill, or is he a man who can move through time?
I still feel like an impostor when writing reviews about sci-fi, and K. Dick in particular. This is a relatively simple sci-fi short story about a futuristic 22nd Century man who curates a display of the 20th Century, and is very dedicated to his work.
A lot of sci-fi (or the few bits I've read, at least) is often bombarded with so many scientific explanations and fancy words that it takes a while to get your head around a story. Dick does that in other stories-but does it in such a way that it works, but in this one it's pretty simple. Whilst that's the best way to write sci-fi in my humble opinion, here it didn't seem to work as well. The story is fun, and really thought-provoking as the edges of sci-fi poke their little heads in on the piece, but it felt too simple and more... well, like a short story. Which I suppose was its little problem.
It was good, and written so well that I almost cried (bad grammar really makes you miss the good kind) but it just left me feeling a little meh, unlike the few other Dick I've read.
Real Life is a glitzy, amazingly well-cast 45min episode of the anthology series Philip K. Dick's Electric Dreams starring Anna Paquin of True Blood fame as a futuristic lesbian supercop who has a flying car and lots of sex with her hawt wife.
Now that the straight guys are gone, here's what's cool about that: The character talks about that being a straight guy's SFnal fantasy world as she decides to go back in time to live as her straight male 20th century counterpart as a vacation. She needs to know: Is she expiating her survivor guilt by escaping to the future or is George expiating his survival guilt by escaping to the past? Since she's George and since George is her, this identity riddle consumes the meta level of the show's text.
Nothing about this resembles the Cold War we're-all-gonna-die plot of "Exhibit Piece" and yet all the changes preserve the spirit of the original. As simple as this: What is reality? What defines reality if not experience? Can anyone rely on external criteria to define truth?
What would you do in George's place: Reality or reality are your choices, no way out, but in one you feel good and in one you feel bad but the feelings oscillate and there's no difference between...between...is there a between? Is, in fact, someone allowed to travel into time in different ways?
I love reads that leave me with big questions and this one did. I'm even happier when filmed entertainment, of which I have lower expectations than I do of reads, does the same thing. I am *shocked* when the read and the stare leave me with the same questions! Rare pleasure.
This Philip K. Dick short story, first published in 1954, has been the inspiration for the Electric Dreams episode Real Life, starring Anna Paquin, Terrence Howard and Rachelle Lefevre.
The two stories are very different. What they have in common though are the questions they're asking of their main characters as well as of their readers/viewers.
What is reality? How do we perceive reality? What would we do if we could choose between two different realities.
Those are the questions George Miller - a 22nd century employee of the N'York History Agency - faces when he finds a way to escape into the 20th century. A time when marriage was still permitted, people had complete custody of their children and you could quit your job without facing euthanasia.
A quick and entertaining read that has the potential to make the reader think about existential questions. But I thought the TV show did a slightly better job with the premise and offered a more complex and interesting set-up.
But this story had a nice twist at the end that managed to make me laugh.
The PKD short story: 3.5/5 The Electric Dreams episode: 7/10
The short story Exhibit Piece was written in 1954, and is the first story in the collection “Philip K. Dick’s Electric Dreams”, compiled in 2017, after the television series of the same name. Exhibit Piece was filmed under the title “Real Life”.
George Miller, a future museum curator of the 22nd Century, is responsible for the exhibit on 1950s America. His life is dull, and we gain the impression that this future is a bleak, dictatorial one, where individuals are restricted in their actions.
It is interesting to note that all these stories were written in the early to mid-1950s, in the midst of the Cold War, when American paranoia was at its peak. The final twist reflects both this, and also introduces the idea of a virtual reality.
The only connection between the TV episode and this original story is, in fact, this idea of a virtual reality. In the television adaptation “Real Life”, instead of the curator George, we have Sarah, a future policewoman, who is pursuing violent killers. However, in order to escape for a while, her girlfriend suggests a “vacation”: a dream-like, virtual reality experience in which she inhabits the mind of a fantasy person.
In this alternative reality, George is the billionaire owner and founder of a successful technology company in the present day. Suffering from stress he resorts to using one of his own inventions, a device which allows him to escape into another reality.
The two share headspace, but we have to decide which is the fantasy and which the reality.
The screenwriter Ronald D. Moore adapted this story for the screen. Famous for his work on “Star Trek”, “Battlestar Galactica” and “Outlander”, he says that what initially attracted him to Exhibit Piece was the idea of losing oneself in another reality. He admits:
“Very little of this story remains in the show, but the heart, and perhaps more importantly, the brains behind the episode, originate in this tale.”
I enjoyed both the original story and the episode which was developed from it, on their own terms. The world now is a very different place from that of 1954, and yet Philip K. Dick’s prescience is startling. It was a long time before the present virtual technology was to come onto the market for consumers.
“Artistic craft. Pride of accomplishment. These words mean nothing to you. You have no soul – another concept from the golden days of the twentieth century when men were free and could speak their minds.”
It’s gratifying to hear our own times (at least our recent past) made the object of so passionate encomia, all the more so since the 50s – which are “the golden days of the twentieth century”, in the speaker’s opinion – are often considered the beginning of an epoch when people were cast into the mould of mindless consumerism and apolitical conformity. When you consider that these words are spoken by George Miller, a future historian, they suddenly seem at little bit at odds with everything we know, because normally historians, at least in my country, hold very critical views on the past instead of glorifying it. Nothing in those bygone days can find their approval. George Miller, however, is different: He even wears the fashion of the mid-twentieth century, his favourite period of study, and he also talks like people back then. These habits, and his keen interest in the past, make him an oddball in his own society – where it is quite dangerous to be regarded as an oddball because in that society of limitless control and surveillance, where you are told that you are “a political-social unit here in this society”, what you can expect if you break ranks and show too many eccentricities, or even fractiousness, is actually euthanasia.
One day, George Miller, without noticing right then, steps through a time gate when entering one of the exhibit pieces at work; the exhibit piece being a 1950s middle-class suburban home, which suddenly fills with life when Miller finds himself a married man and father to two boys. Strangely, he is somehow familiar with all the background information appertaining to this life, and yet he can also remember life outside the exhibit piece. For a while, he struggles with the question which one of these two lives is real, and which isn’t, until he accepts that they may both be authentic. When he later finds the time gate, he is hassled by a man named Fleming, “the officious representative of the great hierarchy that spread like a sticky gray web over the whole planet.” Oddly, Fleming’s harsh appeals for Miller to leave the exhibit piece and submit to euthanasia as somebody who is mentally ill, hold no attraction for our protagonist, and he also waves off Fleming’s threats to dismantle the exhibition as being futile with regard to harming him. When he returns into the safety of his new home, however, a look into the newspaper acquaints him with the fact that the Russians have developed a bomb that will destroy the whole planet.
PKD’s story Exhibit Piece is interesting in many ways: First of all, it plays with the concept of multiple or shifting realities, but it also makes us contend with the question whether Fleming is a dissatisfied, nostalgic historian who dreams himself back into the past, or a frustrated – after all, his boss seems to be giving him hell, and the family’s diet is apparently influenced by an exigent brother-in-law –, overworked paterfamilias who entertains certain delusions of there being another reality behind which he has hitherto regarded as his daily life. This ambiguity suggests that both periods in time – even the one praised so unreservedly by Miller himself – are not without their drawbacks and problems. From here on, Dick moves us towards the time gate element, seemingly resolving the ambiguity but still leaving open the question whether Miller, the downtrodden and browbeaten ranker-and-filer, might not indeed have gone mad and dreamt himself into a cosier world, where – as convenience would have it – he enjoys the pleasures (next to the responsibilities) of a comfy middle-class existence.
The ending of the story also gives us something to think about: Is the Russian cobalt bomb that the newspaper headline heralds the exhibit piece world equivalent of the dismantling ordered by Fleming? Or is it just another of those menaces newspapers keep warning us against to catch our attention? And what, if by destroying the exhibit piece Fleming would actually change the past in that the Soviets really developed a new kind of bomb? If we don’t take anything else out of this short story, we might take out this: You’d better be careful about what you do in a museum …
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I watched the Amazon show Electric Dreams and decided to read the stories they came from. I see the resemblance of this story to episode 1, "Real Life" on the show.
This quick read considers the nature of reality vs dreams or delusions. It has elements of Matrix (or Plato’s Cave theory) such as: existentialism and the questioning of what is real?
George Miller is a historian of sorts from the 22ndC specialising in mid 20C American history and responsible for creating authentic replicas of the society. He is passionate to the point of being pedantic and superior. Upon investigating an issue with his 20C exhibit we stumble into questions of reality. Which world is the real world? Are they both real? Does it matter? There’s also a theme regarding what constitutes societal progress? Is the 20C a marker of it, more or less do than the 22C world described?
An easy accessible read. It’s not ‘well written prose’ but it effectively focuses on the philosophical theme it sets out to explore and invites the reader to ponder the significance.
"By accustoming myself to everyday objects of my research period I transform my relation from mere intellectual curiosity to genuine empathy."
"You're nothing but a minor bureaucrat in a vast machine. You're a function of an impersonal cultural totality. You have no standards of your own."
"Idolize the past, if you want. But remember--it's gone and buried. Times change. Society progresses."
"People in dreams are always secure until the dreamer wakes up."
"That's the strange part about psychotics. They rationalize their delusions into a logical system... it's internally consistent. Only it doesn't happen to be true "
Another good science fiction short by Dick in which a man either moves between 2 dimensions or is psychotic ... Dick himself had clear memories of other realities in which he had lived before the rules of the universe ("simulation") changed.
En el siglo XXII, George Miller trabaja en la Agencia de Historia como curador de una muestra sobre el siglo XX. Su interés por el período que trabaja ronda lo obsesivo: se viste con prendas de época, habla en una jerga incomprensible para sus contemporáneos. Incluso sus superiores, que normalmente aprobarían tal dedicación lo ven ya con cierta incomodidad.
Un día, mientras investiga unos ruidos en la muestra, Miller se ve súbitamente transportado a un hogar típico del siglo XX (es decir, un típico hogar norteamericano y de los años 50, la década en que este cuento fue escrito). Hay una mujer que lo trata como si fuera su esposo; unos chicos que lo tratan como si fuera su padre. Y Miller los reconoce.
Como si estuviera soñando, los recuerdos de esa otra vida se le aparecen sin esfuerzo; y sin embargo todavía sabe que es George Miller. ¿Pero cuál de los dos mundos es el real y cuál el imaginado? El cuento se balancea sobre esta pregunta. Miller va a ver a un psiquiatra y este le recomienda que contemple la brecha, el lugar por donde llegó a esta realidad.
Al hacerlo, Miller observa por un hueco la otra realidad, y se convence de que ninguno de los dos mundos tiene preeminencia sobre el otro, sino que ambos existen en simultáneo, y que la conexión entre ambos es alguna especie de misterio del espacio tiempo. Desde el otro lado, sin embargo, lo llaman sus jefes; insisten en que nada de lo que cree estar viendo es real, le dicen que se volvió loco, y amenazan con destruir la muestra si Miller no desiste en su fantasía.
Él, como es un fanático del pasado, decide quedarse a vivir en él para siempre. En la última escena, al volver a su casa de los años 50, Miller lee en la tapa de un periódico que los rusos acaban de desarrollar la bomba de cobalto, capaz de destruir la totalidad del mundo.
Con este cierre, el cuento nos hace creer más en la inestabilidad psicológica de Miller que en la “puerta temporal” que el propio protagonista había postulado. Parecería que, en su mundo imaginario, Miller pergeña la imagen de la bomba de cobalto como una manera de justificar y darle sentido a lo que está por ocurrir.
El cuento se cierra sobre la interpretación psicológica, o por lo menos se inclina a ella; lo que permanece es la tensión entre las dos realidades. Incluso si una es solamente un producto de la fantasía de Miller, la otra, la realidad “real” parece incapaz de afirmar su preeminencia sobre ella. PKD aprovecha el escenario futurista para darle a este delirio un giro irónico. Siempre se dijo eso de que todo tiempo pasado fue mejor, que es otra manera de decir que toda época que uno vive es la peor de todas las épocas, a pesar de que la evidencia señale lo contrario. Supongo que en los años 50 había este tipo de nostálgicos. Al ubicar a su protagonista doscientos años en el futuro, Dick convirtió a ese presente pesimista en un pasado deseable.
Miller vive bajo un estado todopoderoso, en un mundo donde por ejemplo el matrimonio está prohibido y hay algo así como eutanasias obligatorias. Miller sueña con el siglo XX, una época de libertad, de valores, de patriarcado. La descripción del siglo delata, en parte, el hecho de que Dick no sabía, al momento de escribir el cuento, lo que vendría en los siguientes cuarenta y seis años. Igual no importa, porque puede ser un futuro alternativo, o puede ser que Miller, el historiador, tenga una comprensión incompleta del período, incompleta o monolítica, como nuestra comprensión de digamos el siglo XIX.
Lo que sí importa es que elige esa fantasía para refugiarse de su presente distópico, y oponer esa fantasía al control del estado. La psicosis es el único orden alternativo que es capaz de generar, en un mundo que por lo demás parece cerrado e inmodificable.
En Electric Dreams, la serie, hay un capítulo basado en este cuento, aunque dista de ser una adaptación. Muy propio de PKD es dejar ideas intrigantes tiradas por el camino. En este caso, por ejemplo, el tema de la memoria, ficticia o no, que Miller recupera en la realidad alternativa. No es algo fundamental para el relato, como tampoco lo es el hecho de que Miller se convierta en otro hombre, con otra identidad (podría haber sido simplemente una versión del propio Miller en el siglo XX). Dick lo plantea de esta manera y también nos ofrece un interrogante tentador: ¿cuál de las dos identidades es la original, quién es el soñador y quién es el soñado? No sé si el cuento, con su final, está a la altura de la pregunta. Me gusta mucho más la versión de Miller, que supone que hay dos soñándose mutuamente, en espejo. Hubiese sido un lindo giro para el clásico intríngulis borgiano. El capítulo de la serie desecha casi todo el material del cuento, excepto por esa pregunta. Su primer acierto es descartar tanto la explicación psicológica como la sobrenatural. Los cruces de una realidad a otra se producen mediante un dispositivo que recién está empezando a circular en cada una de ellas. Se trata de un mecanismo de realidad virtual que le permite a los usuarios un tipo de vacaciones a ultranza: un descanso de ser aquellos que son, la posibilidad de ser otro al menos por un rato. Entonces, hay una policía del siglo XXII, o por ahí, que probablemente sufre de estrés postraumático, y su esposa le propone tomarse unas vacaciones de este tipo. Cada vez que usa el dispositivo, la policía se transforma en un billonario de principios del siglo XXI, cuya mujer (físicamente idéntica a la de la policía) fue asesinada. Este hombre dirige aparentemente una compañía de software, que está trabajando en un dispositivo similar, pero más rudimentario, al que usa la policía futurista. El billonario tiene uno en su casa; cuando lo usa, se transforma en una policía del siglo XXII, etcétera.
Como en el relato de Dick, al moverse de una realidad a la otra el usuario del dispositivo se convierte también en esa otra persona, aparentemente ficticia; recupera poco a poco datos y recuerdos, al tiempo que no se olvida de su identidad original. La experiencia es tan vívida que pronto cada uno de los dos personajes empieza a dudar de la realidad de su propio mundo. Quizás el que tiene preeminencia no sea el que ellos creen; quizás ambos sean igualmente reales. Pero no hay – y eso parece un tanto desesperante – manera de determinarlo. Ni para los personajes ni para el espectador, a quien lógicamente se busca dejar en vilo hasta la revelación final.
“Exhibit Piece” es el primer cuento de Electric Dreams Siguiente: “The Commuter”
Merged review:
In the 22nd century, George Miller works at the History Agency as the curator of an exhibition on the 20th century. His interest in the period in which he works borders on the obsessive: he dresses in 20th century clothes, and speaks in a jargon incomprehensible to his contemporaries. Even his superiors, who would normally approve of such a dedication, already feel uncomfortable around him.
One day, while investigating noises in the exhibit, Miller finds himself suddenly transported to a typical 20th-century home (that is, a typical American and 1950s home, the decade in which this short story was written). There is a woman who treats him as if he were her husband; some boys who treat him as if he were his father. And Miller recognizes them.
In the same way as it happens in a dream, the memories of that other life appear to him effortlessly; and yet he still knows that he is George Miller, the man from the 22nd century. But which of the two worlds is real and which is imagined? The story balances on this question. Miller goes to see a psychiatrist and he recommends him to take a look at the gap, the place where he came to this reality.
In doing so, Miller peers through a gap into the other reality, and is convinced that neither world has pre-eminence over the other, but that both exist simultaneously, and that the connection between the two is some kind of space-time mystery. From the other side, however, his bosses call him ; they insist that nothing he thinks he's seeing is real, they tell him he's gone crazy, and they threaten to destroy the exhibit if Miller doesn't give up his fantasy.
As a fan of the past, Miller decides to stay and live in it forever. In the last scene, returning to his house in the 1950s, Miller reads on the cover of a newspaper that the Russians have just developed the cobalt bomb, capable of destroying the entire world.
With this closure, the story makes us believe more in Miller's psychological instability than in the "time gate" that the protagonist himself had postulated. It would seem that, in his imaginary world, Miller concocts the image of the cobalt bomb as a way to justify and make sense of what is about to happen.
The story closes on psychological interpretation, or at least leans towards it; what remains is the tension between the two realities. Even if one is merely a product of Miller's fantasy, the other, the "real" reality, seems unable to assert its pre-eminence over it.
PKD takes advantage of the futuristic setting to give this rave an ironic twist. The past was always a better time, which is another way of saying that the present is always the worst of times, despite the evidence to the contrary. It is safe to assume that nostalgics of this kind already existed in the 1950s. By placing his protagonist two hundred years in the future, Dick turned that pessimistic present into a desirable past.
Miller lives under an all-powerful state, in a world where, for example, marriage is prohibited and there is something like compulsory euthanasia. Miller dreams of the 20th century, a time of freedom, of values, of patriarchy. The description of the century betrays, in part, the fact that Dick did not know, at the time of writing the story, what was to come in the next forty-six years. It doesn't matter anyway, because it may be an alternate future, or it may be that Miller, the historian, has an incomplete or monolithic understanding of the period, like our understanding of, say, the 19th century.
What matters is that he chooses that fantasy to take refuge from his dystopian present, and oppose that fantasy to state control. Psychosis is the only alternative order that it is capable of generating, in a world that otherwise seems closed and unchangeable.
In Electric Dreams, the series, there is a chapter based on this story, although it is far from being an adaptation. Quite typical of PKD is to leave intriguing ideas lying by the wayside. In this case, for example, the theme of memory, fictitious or not, that Miller recovers in the alternate reality. It is not fundamental to the story, nor is the fact that Miller becomes another man, with another identity (he could have simply been a version of Miller himself in the 20th century). Putting it this way, Dick also offers us a tantalizing question: which of the two identities is the original, who is the dreamer, and who is the dreamed? I don't know if the story, with its ending, lives up to the question. I like Miller's version much better, which supposes that there are two dreaming each other, in a mirror. It would have been a nice twist on the classic Borgesian conundrum.
The chapter of the series discards almost all the material of the story, except for that question. His first success is to rule out both the psychological and the supernatural explanation. The crossings from one reality to another are produced by means of a device that is just beginning to circulate in each one of them. It is a virtual reality mechanism that allows users an extreme type of vacation: a break from being who they are, the possibility of being someone else at least for a while. So there's a cop from the 22nd century or thereabouts who's probably suffering from post-traumatic stress, and her wife asks her to take a PTSD vacation. Every time she uses the device, she transforms into an early 21st century billionaire whose wife (physically identical to hers) was murdered. This man apparently runs a software company, which is working on a device similar, but more rudimentary, to the one used by the futuristic police. The billionaire has one in his house; when he wears it, he transforms into a 22nd century policewoman and so on.
As in Dick's story, when moving from one reality to another, the user of the device also becomes that other person, apparently fictitious; he gradually recovers data and memories, while not forgetting his original identity. The experience is so vivid that soon each of the two characters begins to doubt the reality of their own world. Perhaps the one who has pre-eminence is not the one they believe; perhaps both are equally real. But there is no – and that seems a bit desperate – way to determine it. Neither for the characters nor for the viewer, who logically seeks to leave in suspense until the final revelation.
“Exhibit Piece” is the first story of Electric Dreams Next: “The Commuter”
"Exhibit Piece" by Philip K. Dick is a mesmerizing exploration of the timeless human yearning for a simpler existence, as exemplified by the protagonist's daydreams of traveling back to the mid-20th century. The story evokes a poignant reflection on the age-old adage, 'the grass is always greener on the other side.' In its narrative, the pursuit of an idyllic past becomes a metaphor for the eternal human condition, where contentment is ever elusive, and new challenges emerge just as one believes they've found peace. The tale draws parallels with classic science fiction series like "The Outer Limits" or "The Twilight Zone," where the boundary between reality and imagination is blurred, inviting contemplation on the complexities of human desire and the consequences of longing for an idealized past. Dick's narrative prowess shines through as he weaves a thought-provoking and evocative exploration of the human psyche within the folds of time travel and existential reflection.
When I was little, my dad opened up his library of science fiction books to me, with the only qualification that if he'd added a note to the title page that it wasn't safe, I wouldn't read it. From about the age of 7, I explored the worlds of Asimov, Dick, and other amazing authors of science fiction and fantasy; together we explored new worlds, built robots, and played with the realities of time. My favorites were the short story anthologies, and it was in one of these that I first read this story by PKD. It wasn't one that I'd searched for later, after I'd grown up and the anthologies had disappeared somewhere along the way (PKD's Father-Figure was one I searched for for several years, finally posting about it online to see if anyone knew the story I was remembering), but nevertheless, it's still a good story with an ending reminiscent of O. Henry.
This story prompts so many questions about our every day experience of reality. It talks about losing yourself in another reality. We do it all the time in movies, TV, books, music, art, tech games and VR. Just having our own world view, mindset or understanding creates a different reality to others. It's not just a case of glass half empty or half full, it is all the nuances that make up our reality including elements from experience to mental health to opportunity. We can disappear into a sugar, drug or alcohol fueled world like we can disappear into a world of exercise endorphins or motivational speeches or family picnics. They all evoke responses. Different ones to different people. The real world is only our perception of it. We all have our own reality.
Loved this one! PKD keeps coming back to some of these themes and ideas... the curator of history moving thru time... what is reality. I finally read this one after watching the Electric Dreams series on Amazon. I liked their adaptation... but of course it was nothing like this original, and yet upon reflecting on it now I can see all the similarities. The show seemed to take ideas from "We can remember it for you wholesale" plus this short to come up with their story. Still, like it all around.
I saw the “Philip k dick electric dream” episode “real life” which is based off this short story supposedly, this was way better then the show I don’t know why they couldn’t just make a faithful adaptation
2.5 - definitely one of the weakest of his stories I've read. A cool concept, but not very well executed. The main character is not well written, the twist is not satisfying, and the message is vague and regressive... Literally.
good! very twilight zone-ish. short, to the point, nicely realized. one thing i always found a little tricky with pkd is that i feel like he doesn't always give me the ability to visualize what's happening in his books - surroundings, what the narrator's looking at. this did that pretty well imo.
Another great little story about an everyday guy who dared to be different. Upon discovering a pathway into a possible new world, he capitalises on the opportunity but all actions come with a price.
“Exhibit Piece”: Clever surreal. Great ending. **** “You realize this may be nothing but an exhibit? You and everybody else - maybe you're not real. Just pieces of an exhibit.”