A lot of people don't get Fritz Leiber. He was an immensely creative man with a nearly peerless command of the English language, but even as a lifelong fan, I will freely admit that he had a great many strange ideas and, frankly, kinks. These traits can make much of his fiction difficult to approach and digest; thus, he remains underappreciated.
The Green Millennium is an oft-hoisted example Fritz's weirdness, and believe me, I get it. TGM can very well be described as bizarre; it features a turgid morass of pinstriped gangsters, professional wrestlers, underworld hoodlums, witches, mystics, legendary physicists, shady psychiatrists, sociopathic love interests, suspiciously Satyrine "Argentinians" as well as a small but scrappy guy named Phil, all swirling around one green cat dubbed "Lucky"who marks his territory with peace and love, and whom everybody wants, whether to possess or eliminate.
Sounds like quite a mess, right? A sourpuss would call it that. To me, for starters, The Green Millennium is one big, manic road movie; the story and the characters tumble from one zany scene to the next, chasing or being chased, often via electric car getaways or wilder conveyances, all against a backdrop of Fritz's unique, resonant vision of dystopian, multi-tiered urban America.
And that's another reason I cherish the book: I love painting pictures in my head, and Leiber provided rich visual and aesthetic details deftly, almost effortlessly. I can see sleek electric sports cars streak though his vast, dark, neon-blurred retro-futurist cityscape like I lived there. I can see Juno Jones and Mitzie Romadka and all of the rest of the eccentric panoply of characters as if I knew them. Leiber built vibrant worlds, and The Green Millennium is no exception.
It's also weirdly prescient and seminal at times. TGM's Wasps anticipate Dune's Hunter-Seekers by more than ten years, and are easily more menacing. At one point, Leiber details the aliens' navigation system as being able to track their (the "Dinghy"'s) location in (above) the City in real time, as well as vehicles and pedestrians, all through what was described as something very much like a vector graphic display system. That was
very
heady stuff for 1953. The Green Millennium is full of little details like that; many ridiculous, quite a number striking.
But, at the end of the day, I love The Green Millennium because it's a (ultimately) harmless romp with a happy ending. Although Leiber was too old to participate directly in WWII, the horror of that great, dark global conflict, particularly the advent of atomic weapons, seemed to scar his artist's soul and color his literary work for decades after. Many of these stories were predictably grim ("The Foxholes of Mars", "Coming Attraction", etc), but quite a number of others were basically literary prayers for peaceful utopianism, such as "Bread Overhead" and "The Big Holiday", to name a couple I can immediately think of. The Green Millennium is one of the latter; aliens show up at the fervent plea of a small band of intellectually and spiritually enlightened souls to save Humanity from itself. Most of the characters are (or end up) quite likeable, amiable folks, and the very few irredeemable ones are disposed of without particular fanfare.
So anyway, lots of people have a curated selection of books that they re-read periodically; The Green Millennium is one of mine. It's quirky and madcap and optimistic and fun, and I simply need that from time to time.