Maps: The Uncollected John Sladek

Thackeray Phin

by John Sladek, David Langford (Introduction)

The Uncollected John Sladek is a compilation of 60 of John Sladek's previously uncollected short stories, including a few poems, playlets, essays and collaborations with Thomas Disch

Genres: Collections

308 pages, Paperback

First published June 1, 2002

About the author

John Thomas Sladek (generally published as John Sladek or John T. Sladek, as well as under the pseudonyms Thom Demijohn, Barry DuBray, Carl Truhacker and others) was an American science fiction author, known for his satirical and surreal novels.

Reviews

[Divya Pal · Rating 3 out of 5]

Whimsical SF yarns, with a lot of allusions and cultural references that non-Americans would not comprehend. The author’s tribute to other SF masters – with an emphasis on Philip K. DickPhilip K. Dick – is riveting. He also talks about Herman Wouk’s Youngblood Hawke (an old favourite of mine). Towards the end, his self-deprecatory ‘confessional’ is both intriguing as well as hilarious

Mainly I write science fiction in self-defence. It’s one way of getting to grips with a peculiar world, a world that I find Astounding, Amazing and altogether a Weird Tale. I wonder how people unfamiliar with sf manage to find their way around in our world of Watergate and Jonestown, Khomeini and Haig, robot factories and vodka-cola, Manson and Moonies and the MX missile system. I deal with this stuff as I can, and if the end product looks like satire, look at the raw material.
Writing, it should go without saying, requires solitary confinement. The writer’s immediate surroundings must exclude forest fires, screams from mental wards, head-banging music, cries of ecstasy, the anguish of infants, jet aircraft taking off and so on. While any of these distractions can be turned to some writer’s advantage, the general prejudice is against them and in favour of quiet solitude. That is why noisy cities are clogged with writers, who avoid the quiet countryside as though anthrax stalked the land.
The usual SF uniform includes a baseball cap with a NASA emblem on it, a T-shirt depicting some comic book superhero and plenty of buttons with obscure slogans on them (“QUARKS!”). If I can’t get all this, I try to make do with a silver jump suit, red cape and fishbowl helmet – jet-propelled roller skates with silver wings on the side being an optional accessory.

Riotous, preachy, snarky, smug, contumacious, sanctimonious - all the flavours are there.

[Jane Palmer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Maps is a collection of short stories and word games by the late John Sladek, edited by David Langford.
Unless you are a keen devotee of wordplay and word games, some brief elements of this book could be deeply annoying, which is unfortunate because the parts that make sense are worth the effort, where effort is required.
Here are some examples, beginning with the opening stories:-
Bill gets Hep to God! This two and a half pages of atheistic anarchic is enough to seriously irritate any Jesus freak.
In a couple of stories, Thackery Phin wends his way, more Agatha Christie-like than Marlow, through the unfathomable Brit subculture much beloved and misunderstood by American tourists.
Peabody, a disreputable genealogist, takes delivery of a time machine and sets about fixing the fraudulent claims made to his clients in the only way open to him.
A 15 foot robot lusting after cars and other vehicles, which is pretty disconcerting for anyone in them at the time, lurches through Machine Screw.
The Future of John Sladek treats our present as a possible future, emphasising technical advances in their, frequently bizarre, contexts.
Robot “Kiss of Life” Drama is a comment on American industrial relations so ironic it deserves an award, if only like the ones received by its metal strike-breaking hero.
In Some mysteries of Birth, Death and Population That Can Now Be Cleared Up, the stories/essays/ramblings take off into an enjoyable romp through implausibilities that could unnerve the deeply serious science fiction buff. As with some of the humorous stories this is a potential antidote to the leaden profundities of hardcore science fiction. John Sladek seemed aware that if there was ever a genre in need of a good piss take, it is science fiction.
Blood and Gingerbread is a parody on Hansel and Gretel even nastier than anything the Brothers Grimm managed. Definitely not for children.
Later in the book the Mystery Diet of the Gods: A Revelation, is an acerbic Swiftian take on carnivorousness. For those without a sense of irony, here is a powerful argument for cannibalism. Even the work of Eric Von Daniken is mustered to prove that vegetarianism is an aberration that flies in the face of the human propensity to devour each other. The arguments here are just as persuasive as in How to Transplant Your Own Heart for anyone with ‘enough manual dexterity to operate a pencil sharpener'.
As far as Sladek's poetry is concerned, I am a total Philistine (Philistines - a much-maligned people who did actually manage to produce comprehensible art, if you want to be finicky). Though much of it will ring bells and gasps of admiration in certain quarters, to me it seemed ramblings with no horizon in view, let alone destination, and a strong element of literary Dadaism that requires more than the average reader is willing to invest. Though even when at its most obscure, there is sometimes that perceptive flash of wit that can compensate for lack of intelligibility. As the reader becomes more acquainted with the author’s style, this is one of the rewards, along with some originally surreal ideas.
The stories are so many and varied it would have helped if the name of each one appeared at the top of the page instead of the book's title. Some of them have little to do with science fiction and virtually all have a twist in the tail, many depending a little too heavily on coincidence, though the knack of making sure everyone gets their comeuppance is strangely satisfying.
In many of his stories and essays Sladek could not be accused of seriousness, but it is still a little disconcerting to suddenly come to The Marching Raspberries, a send up of the Caped Crusader and various other comic book conventions. If it were not for the peculiar turn of the author's humour, it would be out of place. Sweetly Sings the Chocolate Budgie, which follows and several other stories are laced with a cod archaic English that is irritating out of any sensible context.
Taken as a whole, this collection is a worthwhile investment at £9.99, packed with more novelty and short stories - some unashamedly unpretentious despite the small amount of obscure poetry and wordplay - than the average anthology.
2002

[Iguanapaws Emerson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bit of a mixed bag. Some are really good, the detective stories and one about a time-travelling lothario are great, but there are sadly quite a few so-so ones too. Hardly surprising since this is basically a completist's collection of everything ever. Worth a punt for fans.

[Stephen Hull · Rating 3 out of 5]

A couple of duds but mostly great fun. Makes me want to go back and re-read The Müller-Fokker Effect. And, for that matter, to read all of his books that I've never got round to.