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He Walked Among Us
When hack agent Jimmy “Tex” Balaban discovers Ralf on a Borscht Belt stage, his act appears to be a clever joke. Ralf claims to be from the future, shouting foul-mouthed prophecies of where we went wrong. And he delivers a harrowing message.
The world is in chaos. Our biosphere has been devastated, our air is unbreathable, and the final stalwarts of mankind have taken refuge in pressurized shopping malls. Humanity clings to the last mediocre vestiges of life on a dead planet that we did not know how to save. But it might not be too late. Has Ralf returned to the past to awaken our consciences? Is he who he says he is or is he insane? And if we have one last chance to save the world, does any of this matter?
Then Dexter D. Lampkin, a fading science fiction writer, and Amanda Robin, a New Age guru wannabe, magnificently transform Ralf into what the world really needs: a messenger sent from the future to save us from ourselves. Together with Tex they polish Ralf’s television persona to captivate America. The problem is that Ralf never goes out of character. He truly believes he is a prophet.
The world is in chaos. Our biosphere has been devastated, our air is unbreathable, and the final stalwarts of mankind have taken refuge in pressurized shopping malls. Humanity clings to the last mediocre vestiges of life on a dead planet that we did not know how to save. But it might not be too late. Has Ralf returned to the past to awaken our consciences? Is he who he says he is or is he insane? And if we have one last chance to save the world, does any of this matter?
Then Dexter D. Lampkin, a fading science fiction writer, and Amanda Robin, a New Age guru wannabe, magnificently transform Ralf into what the world really needs: a messenger sent from the future to save us from ourselves. Together with Tex they polish Ralf’s television persona to captivate America. The problem is that Ralf never goes out of character. He truly believes he is a prophet.
544 pages, Hardcover
First published January 28, 2003
6 people are currently reading
175 people want to read
About the author
Norman Spinrad
365 books217 followersBorn in New York in 1940, Norman Spinrad is an acclaimed SF writer.
Norman Spinrad, born in New York City, is a graduate of the Bronx High School of Science. In 1957 he entered City College of New York and graduated in 1961 with a Bachelor of Science degree as a pre-law major. In 1966 he moved to San Francisco, then to Los Angeles, and now lives in Paris. He married fellow novelist N. Lee Wood in 1990; they divorced in 2005. They had no children. Spinrad served as President of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) from 1980 to 1982 and again from 2001 to 2002.
Norman Spinrad, born in New York City, is a graduate of the Bronx High School of Science. In 1957 he entered City College of New York and graduated in 1961 with a Bachelor of Science degree as a pre-law major. In 1966 he moved to San Francisco, then to Los Angeles, and now lives in Paris. He married fellow novelist N. Lee Wood in 1990; they divorced in 2005. They had no children. Spinrad served as President of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) from 1980 to 1982 and again from 2001 to 2002.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews
January 29, 2011
Can science fiction save a world like ours, torn by violence and on the very brink of ecological disaster? More to the point, can science fiction fans save the world? Norman Spinrad had entirely too much fun answering these questions. The story gimmick goes like this: a middling level theatrical agent stumbles on a relentlessly vitriolic stand-up comic who claims to come from the future, sent back in time to cause us to change our destructive ways before it is too late. The agent enlists a science fiction writer, whose single visionary book still inspires a tiny fan following, and a New Age guru to shape the comic's act. As the comic's success leads him to host a talk show on a tenth-rate network, questions pile upon questions. Is the comic so demented, he never, ever breaks character? Or is he, by some wild chance, telling the truth? If he succeeds, will the paradox of time travel result in his never having appeared? Are science fiction fans, the only people willing to believe in a better future, his only hope? Spinrad's prose is snappy, absorbing, at times poignant or hilarious, usually irreverent, as are his references to iconic figures in science fiction (even himself) and if I did not always agree with his characterizations, I found this an absorbing, thought-provoking read
April 7, 2011
I read a whole slew of Norman Spinrad in college. I liked his work. Listed him as one of my favorite science-fiction writers. After reading this novel, I have to reevaluate whether Spinrad is as good as I remember him. Though, I suppose, it's possible that he just didn't write a very good book this time around.
I love the general conceit (kind of a science-fiction version of the classic film Network) and I appreciated the characters. I especially loved Texas Jimmy Balaban, who spends a good chunk of the novel completely horrified at the behavior of the really, really devoted science-fiction fans. I liked Dexter Lampkin, the novelist second guessing his entire career now that his big break has come. I even liked Ralf, the uber-weird protagonist.
What I didn't like is that two hundred pages of this novel could have used a good get-to-the-point edit. I didn't like that the story seemed to wrapped up in a brief handful of pages. And I didn't think that Spinrad's inclusion of himself as a "character in the story" was as clever and well-executed as Spinrad probably thinks it is. Lampkin's character would often posit things like "Norman Spinrad once told him..." or "He was talking with Norman Spinrad once...". It's kind of like as if Stephen King inserted phrases like "Mary went to the library and checked out a Dean R. Koontz book. She skipped over the King section. She hates Stephen King" into every third chapter of The Dead Zone.
Spinrad is a decent enough writer, but, ultimately, this one wasn't my cup of tea.
I love the general conceit (kind of a science-fiction version of the classic film Network) and I appreciated the characters. I especially loved Texas Jimmy Balaban, who spends a good chunk of the novel completely horrified at the behavior of the really, really devoted science-fiction fans. I liked Dexter Lampkin, the novelist second guessing his entire career now that his big break has come. I even liked Ralf, the uber-weird protagonist.
What I didn't like is that two hundred pages of this novel could have used a good get-to-the-point edit. I didn't like that the story seemed to wrapped up in a brief handful of pages. And I didn't think that Spinrad's inclusion of himself as a "character in the story" was as clever and well-executed as Spinrad probably thinks it is. Lampkin's character would often posit things like "Norman Spinrad once told him..." or "He was talking with Norman Spinrad once...". It's kind of like as if Stephen King inserted phrases like "Mary went to the library and checked out a Dean R. Koontz book. She skipped over the King section. She hates Stephen King" into every third chapter of The Dead Zone.
Spinrad is a decent enough writer, but, ultimately, this one wasn't my cup of tea.
July 11, 2012
I must admit that I've had a great big soft spot for Norman Spinrad for a long, long time. From the enfant terrible who kicked serious ass with Bug Jack Barron in 1969 (a book which has been perennially "in development" as a Hollywood picture ever since), through the stirring, anthemic salvation-through-music of Little Heroes, which I loved beyond all reason in 1987, to the émigré éminence grise who proved he still had moxie in 2003 with his historical novel about Vercingetorix, The Druid King, Spinrad's decades-long career contains some absolutely amazing work. His output is relatively sparse, though (sparser still if you count only titles published in the U.S.), and can be extremely uneven. I remember thinking of 2001's Greenhouse Summer, for example, as obsessed by food and even more by sex, but most of all, obsessed by a self-referential attitude perhaps best summed up by Courtney Love and Hole in the song "Doll Parts": "I fake it so real I am beyond fake."
Faking it for real is the protypical Spinrad protagonist's ideal behavior. He Walked Among Us starts out the same way, in fact. When that works (as in Little Heroes), it's great... but it doesn't always work, and here, it didn't. Not for me, at least.
Noted science fiction author and Hollywood screenwriter Dexter Lumpkin (oh, sorry; it's "Lampkin") once wrote a great big idea novel, The Transformation, that sounds like a Spinrad work itself—a cabal of scientists and sf writers get together to fake up an alien emissary named Lura in an effort to unify Earth, a process which is failing spectacularly until the real aliens appear. The Transformation was a commercial failure (like The Mind Game (1980), which was perhaps an earlier version of Spinrad's own transformative vision), but it did spawn a group of real-world "Transformationists," who believe they may yet be able to make Lampkin's vision come true. All this history makes Lampkin the natural writer to tap when Ralf, the "comic from the future," gets discovered in the Catskills by second-rate talent agent (in both senses) Texas Jimmy Balaban.
But then... depression sets in. The novel veers into unpleasant territory early on, with an inauspicious disquisition (ostensibly delivered to Lampkin by Norman Spinrad himself) on just why SF fans—with the occasional exception—are so uniformly fat and ugly (about which more anon). Dexter himself is not one of those exceptions. He's a self-described "cocksman" (really, Norman?) who has middle-aged spread, an aging red Alfa Romeo to drive around the Hollywood hills, and an aging wife who for reasons of her own turns a blind eye to his occasional infidelities with adoring fans at SF conventions.
Lampkin seems very much like an awkward stand-in for the Spinrad of a few decades earlier (nowhere more awkwardly so than when describing an acid trip of sorts on p.340), and He Walked Among Us has more than a whiff of the moldy "trunk novel" about it in general, incompletely updated to the present day while ringing the same changes on the same old themes that Spinrad has already explored more successfully elsewhere. Despite this book having been published after the turn of the 21st Century, it soon starts seeming like a product of a different time... but what time was that? There are clues. Halogen lamps, and Madonna as a sex symbol. Televisions without video recorders, and phones without answering machines that tell the time. Timothy Leary's alive, as are other name-dropped celebrities who have since passed on. He Walked Among Us may have come out in the 21st Century, but it is ensconced solidly in the 1980s—the Reagan Era, that more innocent time, when Ronnie and Tricky Dick were the worst possible Presidents one could imagine.
It's also hard to take the sequences coming from the point of view of "Foxy Loxy" (really), a New York daughter of Welfare turned crack whore whose descent into profane, repetitive dialect ("inna," "gonna," "outa") reminded me sometimes of Jack Womack's much superior execution in Random Acts of Senseless Violence. Foxy has an important role to play, as is soon apparent from the amount of time Spinrad spends portraying her, if nothing else, but it's not at all obvious why he's spending that time on her for most of the book. And when we do find out, the revelation serves primarily to remind us that this book really is a fantasy, despite its science-fictional trappings.
And then there's the sex. Male sexism, that is, with fellatio presented as a sacrament, and adultery as holy and redemptive. Sizeism, too. Fat people are annoying and fat—OK, we get it. SF fans are fat and even more annoying—OK, OK, we get it. But despite SF fans' fatness, it says here that the real reason male SF writers go to conventions is to get laid by said fat female fans?!? (Oh, and as unstated corollary: apparently no male SF writers are gay?!?) These are attitudes which hearken back to... well, further back than the Eighties, that's for sure.
There were things I liked about the book, enough glimpses of the Spinrad-who-was to keep me reading until the end. The recurring phrase "Deathship Earth" (and its contrasting "Starship Earth") makes for a powerful image. I am intrigued by the notion of time as a mutable fabric, where future and past are interdependent, though again this is neither the first nor the best explication of such a view. And I laughed, yes I did, at one of Spinrad's character's proofs of insanity: "...an Angeleno who won't drive a car." (p.298)
But there were so many other places where my willing suspension of disbelief turned unwilling. There's too much telling, rather than showing. Transformation should feel inevitable, it seems to me, even if only after the transformation occurs. A story of transformation should portray a struggle, but instead this one felt like a struggle to portray.
The annoying thing is, though, that Spinrad's right—our current course does lead to Deathship Earth, and it is only if we admit the possibility of changing this fate that changing it is possible. I just don't think that this book is the right vehicle for effecting that change, however earnestly argued.
The back cover blurbs from high-powered writers such as Warren Ellis and Jonathan Lethem call Spinrad's work "unique" and "extraordinary," and overall that's true, but... this particular novel does not seem to deserve such high praise.
With friends like this... does transcendence need enemies?
Faking it for real is the protypical Spinrad protagonist's ideal behavior. He Walked Among Us starts out the same way, in fact. When that works (as in Little Heroes), it's great... but it doesn't always work, and here, it didn't. Not for me, at least.
Noted science fiction author and Hollywood screenwriter Dexter Lumpkin (oh, sorry; it's "Lampkin") once wrote a great big idea novel, The Transformation, that sounds like a Spinrad work itself—a cabal of scientists and sf writers get together to fake up an alien emissary named Lura in an effort to unify Earth, a process which is failing spectacularly until the real aliens appear. The Transformation was a commercial failure (like The Mind Game (1980), which was perhaps an earlier version of Spinrad's own transformative vision), but it did spawn a group of real-world "Transformationists," who believe they may yet be able to make Lampkin's vision come true. All this history makes Lampkin the natural writer to tap when Ralf, the "comic from the future," gets discovered in the Catskills by second-rate talent agent (in both senses) Texas Jimmy Balaban.
But then... depression sets in. The novel veers into unpleasant territory early on, with an inauspicious disquisition (ostensibly delivered to Lampkin by Norman Spinrad himself) on just why SF fans—with the occasional exception—are so uniformly fat and ugly (about which more anon). Dexter himself is not one of those exceptions. He's a self-described "cocksman" (really, Norman?) who has middle-aged spread, an aging red Alfa Romeo to drive around the Hollywood hills, and an aging wife who for reasons of her own turns a blind eye to his occasional infidelities with adoring fans at SF conventions.
Lampkin seems very much like an awkward stand-in for the Spinrad of a few decades earlier (nowhere more awkwardly so than when describing an acid trip of sorts on p.340), and He Walked Among Us has more than a whiff of the moldy "trunk novel" about it in general, incompletely updated to the present day while ringing the same changes on the same old themes that Spinrad has already explored more successfully elsewhere. Despite this book having been published after the turn of the 21st Century, it soon starts seeming like a product of a different time... but what time was that? There are clues. Halogen lamps, and Madonna as a sex symbol. Televisions without video recorders, and phones without answering machines that tell the time. Timothy Leary's alive, as are other name-dropped celebrities who have since passed on. He Walked Among Us may have come out in the 21st Century, but it is ensconced solidly in the 1980s—the Reagan Era, that more innocent time, when Ronnie and Tricky Dick were the worst possible Presidents one could imagine.
It's also hard to take the sequences coming from the point of view of "Foxy Loxy" (really), a New York daughter of Welfare turned crack whore whose descent into profane, repetitive dialect ("inna," "gonna," "outa") reminded me sometimes of Jack Womack's much superior execution in Random Acts of Senseless Violence. Foxy has an important role to play, as is soon apparent from the amount of time Spinrad spends portraying her, if nothing else, but it's not at all obvious why he's spending that time on her for most of the book. And when we do find out, the revelation serves primarily to remind us that this book really is a fantasy, despite its science-fictional trappings.
And then there's the sex. Male sexism, that is, with fellatio presented as a sacrament, and adultery as holy and redemptive. Sizeism, too. Fat people are annoying and fat—OK, we get it. SF fans are fat and even more annoying—OK, OK, we get it. But despite SF fans' fatness, it says here that the real reason male SF writers go to conventions is to get laid by said fat female fans?!? (Oh, and as unstated corollary: apparently no male SF writers are gay?!?) These are attitudes which hearken back to... well, further back than the Eighties, that's for sure.
There were things I liked about the book, enough glimpses of the Spinrad-who-was to keep me reading until the end. The recurring phrase "Deathship Earth" (and its contrasting "Starship Earth") makes for a powerful image. I am intrigued by the notion of time as a mutable fabric, where future and past are interdependent, though again this is neither the first nor the best explication of such a view. And I laughed, yes I did, at one of Spinrad's character's proofs of insanity: "...an Angeleno who won't drive a car." (p.298)
But there were so many other places where my willing suspension of disbelief turned unwilling. There's too much telling, rather than showing. Transformation should feel inevitable, it seems to me, even if only after the transformation occurs. A story of transformation should portray a struggle, but instead this one felt like a struggle to portray.
The annoying thing is, though, that Spinrad's right—our current course does lead to Deathship Earth, and it is only if we admit the possibility of changing this fate that changing it is possible. I just don't think that this book is the right vehicle for effecting that change, however earnestly argued.
The back cover blurbs from high-powered writers such as Warren Ellis and Jonathan Lethem call Spinrad's work "unique" and "extraordinary," and overall that's true, but... this particular novel does not seem to deserve such high praise.
With friends like this... does transcendence need enemies?
December 19, 2022
A third-rate talent agent, Jimmy, finds a comedian, Ralf, whose schtick is that he comes from the future, where things are really bad. Ralf has a good sense of comedic timing and is sometimes funny, so Jimmy brings him to LA and gets him bookings and then his own show. Jimmy brings in Dexter, a middle-aged semi-successful science fiction writer, and Amanda, a New Age seeker/guide, to help with the show.
The writing is mostly fine, and excellent at times; after all, this is Spinrad. But this is not Spinrad at his best. Much of the book is totally objectionable. He spends a lot of words in the first half of the book (and some later) describing how fat, ugly, and ridiculous (did I say fat? globulous even) science fiction fans are. Honestly, it made me glad I've never been to a con and almost ashamed to like science fiction. Very mean-spirited. But then, Ralf's jokes are mean-spirited, and in the middle of the book, that very word is used about them. So, the tone of the book follows the action to some extent. Still, the fat-shaming and nerd-shaming is offensive (as are many of Ralf's jokes).
Dexter appears to be an alter ego of Spinrad, but he's (maybe) not, because Spinrad is a separate character in the book, never seen but mentioned a number of times. Dexter is no less disgusting than the fans, sex-obsessed, judgmental (he's the fat- and nerd-shamer, though he's not much better on either count), and willing to do just about any hack work if it pays well. He wrote an idealistic book a couple decades previously, which flopped but still has some fans.
Amanda is pretty woo-woo, but she's sincere and has a solid sense of reality. And she has a guru-like acquaintance who triggers some transcendent experiences.
This book is very odd. It's hilarious at times. Spinrad takes the opportunity to skewer fans, writers, New Age, show business, etc., and it's funny despite being mean. Overall, though, it's kind of a train wreck. But it's telling a story that's a train wreck too (they keep having to convince the producer not to cancel the show), so that follows along. Ralf is also a train wreck, but hilarious at times and then eerily impressive at times (as is the book). There's a whole other subplot with a crazy violent (and definitely white) crack whore. That function was necessary to the plot but done poorly, very cringey.
For me, being familiar with the LA area, New Age woo, psychedelics, and SF tropes made the book interesting and even enjoyable in places. That's why I'm giving it three stars rather than two or less. But overall, not a book I'd recommend to anyone.
The writing is mostly fine, and excellent at times; after all, this is Spinrad. But this is not Spinrad at his best. Much of the book is totally objectionable. He spends a lot of words in the first half of the book (and some later) describing how fat, ugly, and ridiculous (did I say fat? globulous even) science fiction fans are. Honestly, it made me glad I've never been to a con and almost ashamed to like science fiction. Very mean-spirited. But then, Ralf's jokes are mean-spirited, and in the middle of the book, that very word is used about them. So, the tone of the book follows the action to some extent. Still, the fat-shaming and nerd-shaming is offensive (as are many of Ralf's jokes).
Dexter appears to be an alter ego of Spinrad, but he's (maybe) not, because Spinrad is a separate character in the book, never seen but mentioned a number of times. Dexter is no less disgusting than the fans, sex-obsessed, judgmental (he's the fat- and nerd-shamer, though he's not much better on either count), and willing to do just about any hack work if it pays well. He wrote an idealistic book a couple decades previously, which flopped but still has some fans.
Amanda is pretty woo-woo, but she's sincere and has a solid sense of reality. And she has a guru-like acquaintance who triggers some transcendent experiences.
This book is very odd. It's hilarious at times. Spinrad takes the opportunity to skewer fans, writers, New Age, show business, etc., and it's funny despite being mean. Overall, though, it's kind of a train wreck. But it's telling a story that's a train wreck too (they keep having to convince the producer not to cancel the show), so that follows along. Ralf is also a train wreck, but hilarious at times and then eerily impressive at times (as is the book). There's a whole other subplot with a crazy violent (and definitely white) crack whore. That function was necessary to the plot but done poorly, very cringey.
For me, being familiar with the LA area, New Age woo, psychedelics, and SF tropes made the book interesting and even enjoyable in places. That's why I'm giving it three stars rather than two or less. But overall, not a book I'd recommend to anyone.
February 6, 2011
Let me start by saying if you are looking for a detailed summary of He Walked Among Us you will need to find it elsewhere; this review is intended solely as a subjective reaction.
I admit to having mixed feelings about this story and I could easily have rated it higher on any given day. Let me explain. Norman Spinrad wrote a fairly complex tale that at the same time was surprisingly simple. A second rate comic is discovered in the Catskills by a second rate talent agent. The comic claims he is from the future and took this gig in the past because it was the only work his agent could get him. His message: we had succeeded in killing planet Earth; life was a cesspool; our species was about to blink out of existence, isn't that a hoot. Was the ensuing story a great piece of science fiction? A parody? A well-thought out argument for or against new age spiritualism? The insights and fore sights of science fiction writers? A brilliant look at our present day culture? It could have been any of this or all of this.
For the most part this book reminded me of the Firesign Theater, a radio group popular in the early seventies that was known for their humorous and absurd takes on the culture of that time. The best way to listen to this group was under the heavy influence of marijuana. Only people stoned could properly understand or even pick up the complex absurdities that were issuing rapid fire from this group of performers. Often as I made my way through this story I had the the feeling that Spinrad was indeed stoned while he was writing this novel. At the very least, I found myself repeatedly questioning whether I would understand this book better if I myself was stoned.
I am by no means a scholar, but I have been reading about and practicing spirituality most of my life and have a great interest in the emerging sciences that are beginning to quantify and explain much of what heretofore has been simply labeled mystical. Yet as I read He Walked Among Us I could not distinguish fact from fiction, gibberish from informed detail. One moment I would be thinking this is a fantastic story with some unbelievable insights and the next minute I would be thinking Firesign Theater. At times I think Spinrad caught the core absurdities of science fiction and new age spiritualism with unerring accuracy and in part his intent was to have us laugh at taking any of it seriously. At other times, he seemed perfectly serious in his desire to have us take all of it seriously.
The further into the story, the more I became convinced that this undertaking had all the earmarks of a group of friends who had gotten together to drink and smoke pot until becoming completely wasted and then hashed out, no pun intended, a completely believable in their wasted state, line of bullshit, the hallmark of many us living in the turbulent sixties and seventies.
Throughout the story, Spinrad proved himself again and again a gifted writer. His command of language, second to none, including the numerous words I believe he made up to fit the story. He was annoying, hostile and brilliant at the same time as befitted his characters. His character, Foxy Loxy was a superb piece of writing that was a startling character study within the greater story, so raw at times it was hard to digest.
Some of the scenes Spinrad created were hilarious. Some of them were in fact insightful and carried the mark of first hand experience and personal insight. At the same time some of the story was over the top offensive and had me seriously questioning whether or not to finish the book. Part farce, part parody, part message to course correct if we know what's good for us, He Walked Among Us is still a fine piece of writing if you have the fortitude to stick it out. It was for me a trip down memory lane and in the end worth the effort to make it to the end. Which I thought was excellent. The end.
I admit to having mixed feelings about this story and I could easily have rated it higher on any given day. Let me explain. Norman Spinrad wrote a fairly complex tale that at the same time was surprisingly simple. A second rate comic is discovered in the Catskills by a second rate talent agent. The comic claims he is from the future and took this gig in the past because it was the only work his agent could get him. His message: we had succeeded in killing planet Earth; life was a cesspool; our species was about to blink out of existence, isn't that a hoot. Was the ensuing story a great piece of science fiction? A parody? A well-thought out argument for or against new age spiritualism? The insights and fore sights of science fiction writers? A brilliant look at our present day culture? It could have been any of this or all of this.
For the most part this book reminded me of the Firesign Theater, a radio group popular in the early seventies that was known for their humorous and absurd takes on the culture of that time. The best way to listen to this group was under the heavy influence of marijuana. Only people stoned could properly understand or even pick up the complex absurdities that were issuing rapid fire from this group of performers. Often as I made my way through this story I had the the feeling that Spinrad was indeed stoned while he was writing this novel. At the very least, I found myself repeatedly questioning whether I would understand this book better if I myself was stoned.
I am by no means a scholar, but I have been reading about and practicing spirituality most of my life and have a great interest in the emerging sciences that are beginning to quantify and explain much of what heretofore has been simply labeled mystical. Yet as I read He Walked Among Us I could not distinguish fact from fiction, gibberish from informed detail. One moment I would be thinking this is a fantastic story with some unbelievable insights and the next minute I would be thinking Firesign Theater. At times I think Spinrad caught the core absurdities of science fiction and new age spiritualism with unerring accuracy and in part his intent was to have us laugh at taking any of it seriously. At other times, he seemed perfectly serious in his desire to have us take all of it seriously.
The further into the story, the more I became convinced that this undertaking had all the earmarks of a group of friends who had gotten together to drink and smoke pot until becoming completely wasted and then hashed out, no pun intended, a completely believable in their wasted state, line of bullshit, the hallmark of many us living in the turbulent sixties and seventies.
Throughout the story, Spinrad proved himself again and again a gifted writer. His command of language, second to none, including the numerous words I believe he made up to fit the story. He was annoying, hostile and brilliant at the same time as befitted his characters. His character, Foxy Loxy was a superb piece of writing that was a startling character study within the greater story, so raw at times it was hard to digest.
Some of the scenes Spinrad created were hilarious. Some of them were in fact insightful and carried the mark of first hand experience and personal insight. At the same time some of the story was over the top offensive and had me seriously questioning whether or not to finish the book. Part farce, part parody, part message to course correct if we know what's good for us, He Walked Among Us is still a fine piece of writing if you have the fortitude to stick it out. It was for me a trip down memory lane and in the end worth the effort to make it to the end. Which I thought was excellent. The end.
September 14, 2015
Vous êtes un producteur complètement blasé. Le destin vous amène dans un boui-boui, vous ne savez pas pourquoi vous y restez mais vous sentez que vous devez le faire. Vous vous ennuyez, vous occupez en buvant quelques verres et en écoutant soupirer votre nana qui s'enivre. Puis vous voilà captivé par un mec qui entre sur scène. On ne comprend pas grand chose à ce qu'il raconte, ça n'a aucun sens. Il se croit drôle mais na fait pas rire. Il dit être un comique venu du futur. Sans savoir pourquoi vous l'écoutez, ne le quittez pas une seconde des yeux. Vous sentez un truc chez lui. C'est pour lui que vous êtes là ce soir...
Ainsi commence Il Est Parmi Nous. On sent que ce roman sera déjanté tout du long de par ses personnages aux pensées et répliques cinglantes mais aussi par son scénario.
Il y a Jimmy le fameux producteur, animé par l'originalité qui lui apportera la fortune ; Dexter, l'écrivain de SF désabusé qui se voit offrir une nouvelle chance de devenir populaire ; Amanda, la coach un brin hippie qui a malgré tout les pieds sur terre... et tous gravitent autour de Ralf.
Si j'ai bien apprécié le premier tiers du roman, j'ai vite compris pourquoi il n'avait que des avis médiocres, voire très négatifs. Je n'avais jamais lu de Norman Spinrad auparavant, je ne connaissais donc absolument pas son style ni sa façon de faire. Donc oui au début, j'étais amusée. Les persos sont dingues, Ralf intrigue - joue-t-il un rôle ou pas ? - et parfois ça part bien en sucette. Sauf que... ça part bien trop en sucette ! On finit par perdre le fil, ne pas savoir où l'auteur veut en venir, c'est long, trop long, Spinrad nous gave de délires jusqu'à l'indigestion. J'ai mis un temps fou à lire ce livre que je tenais à lire jusqu'au bout et je ne sais vraiment pas comment j'ai tenu le coup... Enfin si, je voulais la réponse à ma question : Ralf dit-il la vérité ? Et je vous le dis sans hésiter : NE LISEZ PAS CE ROMAN si vous aussi vous voulez des réponses à vos questions. Je ne suis même pas sûre d'avoir pigé le final, me voilà donc hantée par un "tout ça pour ça ?" Frustrant.
Ainsi commence Il Est Parmi Nous. On sent que ce roman sera déjanté tout du long de par ses personnages aux pensées et répliques cinglantes mais aussi par son scénario.
Il y a Jimmy le fameux producteur, animé par l'originalité qui lui apportera la fortune ; Dexter, l'écrivain de SF désabusé qui se voit offrir une nouvelle chance de devenir populaire ; Amanda, la coach un brin hippie qui a malgré tout les pieds sur terre... et tous gravitent autour de Ralf.
Si j'ai bien apprécié le premier tiers du roman, j'ai vite compris pourquoi il n'avait que des avis médiocres, voire très négatifs. Je n'avais jamais lu de Norman Spinrad auparavant, je ne connaissais donc absolument pas son style ni sa façon de faire. Donc oui au début, j'étais amusée. Les persos sont dingues, Ralf intrigue - joue-t-il un rôle ou pas ? - et parfois ça part bien en sucette. Sauf que... ça part bien trop en sucette ! On finit par perdre le fil, ne pas savoir où l'auteur veut en venir, c'est long, trop long, Spinrad nous gave de délires jusqu'à l'indigestion. J'ai mis un temps fou à lire ce livre que je tenais à lire jusqu'au bout et je ne sais vraiment pas comment j'ai tenu le coup... Enfin si, je voulais la réponse à ma question : Ralf dit-il la vérité ? Et je vous le dis sans hésiter : NE LISEZ PAS CE ROMAN si vous aussi vous voulez des réponses à vos questions. Je ne suis même pas sûre d'avoir pigé le final, me voilà donc hantée par un "tout ça pour ça ?" Frustrant.
June 2, 2010
*Minor spoilers: if you don't like Foxy Loxy's plot thread, you can skip it until chapter 10*
I really enjoyed this book, despite the most of Foxy Loxy's story. It satirizes the science-fiction industry and its fans, Hollywood, fake new Age gurus; it also presents some pretty heavy theories about time travel that took some time to wrap my head around, and gives genuine Enlightenment seekers a good nod (not something I've ever been interested in, but this made me respect that lifestyle a bit more). I kept finding myself skipping ahead on the open page because I wanted to find out what happened next so very much!
The three main characters (Jimmy, Amanda, and Dexter; I count Ralph as supporting, even though the plot revolves around him) are well-developed and multi-dimensional, with their own back-stories and changing opinions of the events they're living through as it happens. Each has an "a-ha!" moment regarding Ralph, and while it is important to the character individually, I thought the story suffered a bit from having to read through each of them recalling all their experiences with Ralph and weighing their opinions... but if it takes a reader more than a week or so to read the book, those summaries could be important to reminding them where each character stood.
I highly recommend this book, and think it is a shame that it took five years to get published in it's original English.
I really enjoyed this book, despite the most of Foxy Loxy's story. It satirizes the science-fiction industry and its fans, Hollywood, fake new Age gurus; it also presents some pretty heavy theories about time travel that took some time to wrap my head around, and gives genuine Enlightenment seekers a good nod (not something I've ever been interested in, but this made me respect that lifestyle a bit more). I kept finding myself skipping ahead on the open page because I wanted to find out what happened next so very much!
The three main characters (Jimmy, Amanda, and Dexter; I count Ralph as supporting, even though the plot revolves around him) are well-developed and multi-dimensional, with their own back-stories and changing opinions of the events they're living through as it happens. Each has an "a-ha!" moment regarding Ralph, and while it is important to the character individually, I thought the story suffered a bit from having to read through each of them recalling all their experiences with Ralph and weighing their opinions... but if it takes a reader more than a week or so to read the book, those summaries could be important to reminding them where each character stood.
I highly recommend this book, and think it is a shame that it took five years to get published in it's original English.
July 11, 2011
it's the kind of novel that would have made a great short story.
May 19, 2022
Unproduced TOS script, I read for research.
October 6, 2016
Closer to 3.5. Could have been cut by about 100 pages, and as someone who reads a lot of long novels that's saying something. In the end, though, I liked the characters and they were believable. But the incessant internal dialogues grew tiresome, especially Foxy Loxy's. A good change of pace for me, but probably won't stick to science fiction.
December 21, 2011
Texas Jimmy Balaban discovers a comedian in a worn out hotel in the Catskills. The guy's schtick is that he is from our future, sent here by his agent because his act was too tired. Or maybe he was a messenger from the future, sent to make us prevent the death of the biosphere. So who is Ralf? Is he a brilliant comic? Is he a fruitcake? Either way Texas Jimmy smells success. He hires some help to polish this rough diamond.
Amanda Robin is a seeker after Truth with a capital T, but she is also a skilled acting coach. She signs on to hone Ralf's stage presence, but soon begins to wonder if Ralf has what she has been seeking.
Dexter Lampkin is a science fiction writer with a famous but out of print novel in his past. He had poured all his youthful passion into this messianic novel about "transforming" the earth and the human race. Sadly, his hopes that it would inspire real change were thwarted. Now he writes novels, but he also writes commercials and jokes for comedians and anything else that comes his way. He has begun to feel that his best is behind him.
Through their efforts and his own bizarre talent, Ralf gets a TV talk show on a third rate network. It is a combination trainwreck and tenement fire, awful,but you can't look away. Ralf gains a cult following. However, his close associates are becoming aware that Ralf is totally in personna 24/7. Either he is totally, inhumanly acting, or he has gone round the bend. The role has subsumed the man.
This premise fired me up. I really wanted to read this book and I really wanted to love it. So I read it and I loved...parts of it. Unfortunately, there was all the rest of it. And I do mean ALL the REST of it. 540 pages of it. Somebody,(his editor, maybe?) should have reminded Spinrad that to become immortal, you don't have to be eternal. Spinrad is a wordsmith of the first rank. The words flow beautifully, full of wit, vivid and crude, subtle and delicate. I remember how stunned and awed I was by his novel, Bug Jack Baron, and how cunningly he crafted his short stories. All of his cleverness and audacity is displayed in this novel, but he obviously didn't know where to quit. The flow of words begins to overwhelm. It ceases to dazzle and becomes tedious and irritating.
However, I have to admit, I kept on reading. It was sufficiently thought provoking that I soldiered on until the end. Do I think I should recommend it to others? Yes, with reservations. When you start this one, be sure you have lots of time to finish it. Be prepared to be annoyed. But don't throw the book in the trash. It has moments of genius and should be appreciated for them.
Amanda Robin is a seeker after Truth with a capital T, but she is also a skilled acting coach. She signs on to hone Ralf's stage presence, but soon begins to wonder if Ralf has what she has been seeking.
Dexter Lampkin is a science fiction writer with a famous but out of print novel in his past. He had poured all his youthful passion into this messianic novel about "transforming" the earth and the human race. Sadly, his hopes that it would inspire real change were thwarted. Now he writes novels, but he also writes commercials and jokes for comedians and anything else that comes his way. He has begun to feel that his best is behind him.
Through their efforts and his own bizarre talent, Ralf gets a TV talk show on a third rate network. It is a combination trainwreck and tenement fire, awful,but you can't look away. Ralf gains a cult following. However, his close associates are becoming aware that Ralf is totally in personna 24/7. Either he is totally, inhumanly acting, or he has gone round the bend. The role has subsumed the man.
This premise fired me up. I really wanted to read this book and I really wanted to love it. So I read it and I loved...parts of it. Unfortunately, there was all the rest of it. And I do mean ALL the REST of it. 540 pages of it. Somebody,(his editor, maybe?) should have reminded Spinrad that to become immortal, you don't have to be eternal. Spinrad is a wordsmith of the first rank. The words flow beautifully, full of wit, vivid and crude, subtle and delicate. I remember how stunned and awed I was by his novel, Bug Jack Baron, and how cunningly he crafted his short stories. All of his cleverness and audacity is displayed in this novel, but he obviously didn't know where to quit. The flow of words begins to overwhelm. It ceases to dazzle and becomes tedious and irritating.
However, I have to admit, I kept on reading. It was sufficiently thought provoking that I soldiered on until the end. Do I think I should recommend it to others? Yes, with reservations. When you start this one, be sure you have lots of time to finish it. Be prepared to be annoyed. But don't throw the book in the trash. It has moments of genius and should be appreciated for them.
October 11, 2019
“He Walked Among Us” was an unused screenplay written by Norman Spinrad in 1967 which was rediscovered by him in 2012 when a fan asked him to sign a rather faded copy of the manuscript. For a short period of time Spinrad released it on Amazon and other online retailers but due to legal discussions with CBS the script was soon pulled and is now unfortunately no longer available and hasn’t been for quite a long time. What is really confusing about the whole thing is that Spinrad actually released a novel unrelated to Star Trek with the same name. I have no idea how many poor souls have accidentally bought the wrong thing!
However, I did get a copy at the time so thought I would still review it as it was for a short period part of the Star Trek literature world! Anyway, the premise of the story is pretty standard for the Original Series with a renegade citizen of the Federation installing himself as a god over a primitive civilization. This ruler named Theodore Bayne has managed to increase food production and brought peace but some of his decrees have caused social unrest and malnourishment. This leads to the crew of the Enterprise trying to remove Theodore but it isn’t that easy to do without causing the society to completely collapse.
The formatting of the ebook itself wasn’t that great which wasn’t much of a surprise due to it basically being developed from a scan of the original document. However, the story itself was actually very interesting with some pretty intelligent and intriguing dialogue. I suspect it could have been one of the best episodes of the series and in a way I am glad that Spinrad supposedly managed to persuade the production team to ditch the script entirely rather than turn it into a more comic storyline.
Maybe one day the script will be re-released in a more polished manner or even turned into an actual episode but for now I’m afraid that only the lucky few like me who grabbed it during the few months it was available will get to enjoy what was an enjoyable Trek adventure.
However, I did get a copy at the time so thought I would still review it as it was for a short period part of the Star Trek literature world! Anyway, the premise of the story is pretty standard for the Original Series with a renegade citizen of the Federation installing himself as a god over a primitive civilization. This ruler named Theodore Bayne has managed to increase food production and brought peace but some of his decrees have caused social unrest and malnourishment. This leads to the crew of the Enterprise trying to remove Theodore but it isn’t that easy to do without causing the society to completely collapse.
The formatting of the ebook itself wasn’t that great which wasn’t much of a surprise due to it basically being developed from a scan of the original document. However, the story itself was actually very interesting with some pretty intelligent and intriguing dialogue. I suspect it could have been one of the best episodes of the series and in a way I am glad that Spinrad supposedly managed to persuade the production team to ditch the script entirely rather than turn it into a more comic storyline.
Maybe one day the script will be re-released in a more polished manner or even turned into an actual episode but for now I’m afraid that only the lucky few like me who grabbed it during the few months it was available will get to enjoy what was an enjoyable Trek adventure.
August 20, 2011
The idea was promising--a comic claiming to be from earth's future comes back to tell us jokes about what complete and utter idiots we were to wreck the planet--but the execution did not live up to the premise.
The novel tries to make a serious point about the mess we're in and how the best way to get out of it isn't to scare our own pants off with tales of doom and destruction but to find something in the future to hope for. But the means by which the author chose to pursue this idea flogged the poor thing into the ground and beat it so hard that by the end it was a bloody, messy pulp. (Spoilers ahead.) Seriously, the last best hope/schtick of humanity is for a comic who might be from the future or might be a self-generated reincarnation of jesus/buddha/what have you to come back and generate a large sci-fi cult following who watch him on TV at conventions?
It seemed like the kind of novel where the author started with a great idea and had no idea what to do with it, so followed the novel around for a few hundred pages and didn't want to recognize that it just didn't work.
Also, while the first self-reference was cute, as a gimmick, it quickly got tiresome.
I wish he'd put this one away for two years and come back to it with a fresh perspective and did something with it that worked, because it could have been a lot better than it was.
The novel tries to make a serious point about the mess we're in and how the best way to get out of it isn't to scare our own pants off with tales of doom and destruction but to find something in the future to hope for. But the means by which the author chose to pursue this idea flogged the poor thing into the ground and beat it so hard that by the end it was a bloody, messy pulp. (Spoilers ahead.) Seriously, the last best hope/schtick of humanity is for a comic who might be from the future or might be a self-generated reincarnation of jesus/buddha/what have you to come back and generate a large sci-fi cult following who watch him on TV at conventions?
It seemed like the kind of novel where the author started with a great idea and had no idea what to do with it, so followed the novel around for a few hundred pages and didn't want to recognize that it just didn't work.
Also, while the first self-reference was cute, as a gimmick, it quickly got tiresome.
I wish he'd put this one away for two years and come back to it with a fresh perspective and did something with it that worked, because it could have been a lot better than it was.
August 27, 2010
Oh God, I tried. I really tried. I quite like some science fiction, of the alternative reality genre. The premise sounded promising: A comedian turns up claiming to come from the future, possibly sent by his futuristic human peers to warn present-day earth of what's going to happen if they don't clean up their act. Humour rather than politics is his medium. He gets an agent, gets a TV show, gets a washed-up science fiction author as his gag writer. Trouble was, it wasn't funny. At all. Not a bit. The scenes were painful, the play-by-play of his comedy sketches were painful, the jumping back and forth between different characters' points of view was painful. I made it to about page 180 before I just gave up. I didn't care about any of the characters. They had no appeal, no three-dimensional qualities. Much as I'd love to know whether Ralf the comedian really *is* from the future -- the big "What if?" the book's plot hangs on -- I just can't wade through another 200-odd pages to find out. The author, a quite famous science fiction writer himself (with Star Trek episodes among his credentials), I'm sure I'm supposed to be impressed by. I guess I'm not hardcore enough. Or something.
April 18, 2015
It was a promising read. The plot is good, and I love sci-fi so I was quick to pick up this book. The first 100 pages were ok, but then I realized it wasn't just slow to get to the point : there was no point at all. I finished it, hoping for a great ending that would make it worth it, but I was disappointed.
Dexter Lampkin is not very likable. The way he talks about sci-fi fans is quite appalling.
Amanda sounded like such an interesting, deep character at the beggining of the book, but sadly she quickly loses her dichotomy and just becomes a weird spiritual parody.
Ralf is not even really here. Maybe the story would have been better from his point of view...
Foxy Loxy, just like Amanda, started as a great character, but sadly it quickly dissolves into incoherence that doesnt bring much to the story.
The only character that had a bit of development was Jimmy Texas B. Too bad he isn't more present throughout the book.
In conclusion, good plot, but poorly executed. Way too long, with a slow pace and little character development.
Dexter Lampkin is not very likable. The way he talks about sci-fi fans is quite appalling.
Amanda sounded like such an interesting, deep character at the beggining of the book, but sadly she quickly loses her dichotomy and just becomes a weird spiritual parody.
Ralf is not even really here. Maybe the story would have been better from his point of view...
Foxy Loxy, just like Amanda, started as a great character, but sadly it quickly dissolves into incoherence that doesnt bring much to the story.
The only character that had a bit of development was Jimmy Texas B. Too bad he isn't more present throughout the book.
In conclusion, good plot, but poorly executed. Way too long, with a slow pace and little character development.
June 20, 2010
A great plot spoiled by excessive attempts to be clever and unnecessary crude language. This novel has great potential but needs a great deal of serious editing and condensing to make it a good read. At times you are drawn into the story and then brought to a sudden halt with redundant statements "cleverly written" by the author or totally irrelevant depraived experiences of a drug adict that neither move the story along or add to it. With proper editing this could be a meaningful and entertaining read (at half the pages).
June 20, 2010
I fell through the rabbit hole and savored every shocking aspect of this book, He Walked Among Us. It is a crazy masterpiece that will cast you under its spell in no time at all and have you wondering, what if? The story is one of the oldest and has been retold told countless times, this time with a 21st century twist that makes it wholly original. The characters are completely unforgettable. Once you're done, you may not ever be able to shake off Spinrad's tale for the ages.
November 21, 2011
Spinrad seems to be a decent writer, knows how to turn a phrase, but is in dire need of an editor, at least in the case to this book. It's one of the longest, slowest-paced tomes I've ever read, so slow in fact that I abandoned it three quarters of the way through. I've never had to do that before, but it felt something like the literary equivalent of watching an extended director's cut of Koyaanisqatsi in slow motion.
January 5, 2014
Personally, this is Spinrad's best read. It has everything, including a prophetic look into our own possible(likely)future, a formula for escaping from our own colossal mismanagement of our planet, riotous humor and scathing social commentary, plus a look into the hilarious and pathetic world of Sci-Fi fandom and conventions. The denouement of this masterpiece is both sublime and unexpected. I would highly recommend this book for Spinrad fans.
December 4, 2010
I tried to like this. It took forever to read because I had to force myself to finish. The story sounded promising but never jelled. The book could have been much shorter and perhaps better if an editor had removed the redundant parts. I mean word for word repetition of previous sections of the book.
December 18, 2011
I love most of Spinrad's work. This one has the usual Spinradisms, but reads like a first draft that Norman filed away because he saw it was going nowhere. It really needs to be about half as long, and even then it would be a lesser work, with nothing like the amount of revealed truth necessary to carry off a story like this.
October 29, 2009
neo bab loufoque
Want to read
May 13, 2010sci fi newsletter sounds interesting
May 11, 2011
I couldn't finish this book. That's rare for me. I admire Norman Spinrad, but this one was tedious.
July 30, 2011
I couldn't finish this book. The idea was great and it would seem like it would fit in with my interests, instead it was way to meta. Slow paced. Not the scifi that I was seeking.
January 17, 2012
I don't know whether to rate this up or down for making me crazy for a few hours. Either way, a book that can do that is obviously well-written. :D
March 10, 2012
The formatting of this ebook left a lot to be desired.
A good story. Too bad it never made it to air.
A good story. Too bad it never made it to air.
Read
December 14, 2012I couldn't finish this. Just, ugh. Yes, that bad.
April 14, 2013
Just a bit too clever by half. Too many instances of the author showing us how smart he was. This is not a Spinrad book I would recommend.
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