Garrison Keillor. ME by Jimmy (Big Boy) Valente (1999)

     Garrison Keillor. ME by Jimmy (Big Boy) Valente (1999) Keillor’s satire written as a comment on the election of Jesse Ventura as governor of Minnesota. Very mild, actually, and in places the narrative voice seems more Keillor’s than Valente’s. I know nothing of Ventura’s career as a wrestler, nor of his career as governor, He apparently did no lasting harm, if he did any. As a satire on TV, wrestling, the gullibility of the semi-schooled public, conservatives, liberals, and assorted riffraff, it works reasonably well. But Keillor lacks the satirist’s rage. He is more bemused than angered by the follies and vices of his fellow citizens. A decent read, not a great one. ** (2007)

Brian Aldiss, ed. Galactic Empires: Volume two (1976)

     Brian Aldiss, ed. Galactic Empires: Volume two (1976) Aldiss has assembled a good collection of the future history genre of SF, ranging from the swashbuckling space opera to the most subtle of mathematico-philosophical speculations. In all of them some empire-like polity is imagined, and plot points hinge as much on the structure of that polity as on the characters. One of Aldiss’s strengths is that he chooses stories with strong though not always complex characterisation, so that the stories are less thesis-driven than most SF. That makes these stories engaging; that, and the archetypal elements of which they’re built, as Aldiss recognises and points out. It’s been a while since I binged on SF. This book provided several hours of entertaining and thought-provoking reading. A few stories are shaggy jokes, but most are more serious (though not solemn) explorations of the notions of power and government.
     The assumption underlying all the stories is that the larger the society, the more authoritarian it will be. And they all take for granted that power tends to corrupt, everyone except the noble hero, that is. In many, stagnation is seen as an inevitable byproduct of the stability of a powerful empire, and the barbarian invasions as a welcome and necessary revitalisation of the culture. Several stories assume that humanity’s striving for something beyond itself will be unique in the galaxy, a dubious assumption. The treatment of gender and sex tends to be simplistic and very much of the time in which the stories were written, with men taking leading roles, and even powerful women tending to melt into sex kittens as soon as the hero looks at them with lustful intention. No wonder that women generally haven’t liked SF. There are also several stories with simplistic notions of mind, the kind of notions that enable telepathy and the insertion of alien egos into human brains.
     But most stories deal with the human (and alien) costs of the changes and conflicts that are an inevitable byproduct of government. Thoreau’s implicit idea that eventually, perhaps, humans would need no government, is emphatically denied here. To be intelligent and to live in societies means to govern and be governed, to dominate and to resist domination. The result is that the most common tone is elegiac and tragic, for even the most advanced race must eventually face its own extinction.. The comic spirit shows up mostly as satire, equating humans with vermin, for example.
     All in all, the book is worth keeping. ** (2007)

Best of the West: The Railroaders (1986)

     B. Pronzini & M. Greenberg. Best of the West: The Railroaders (1986) 5th in a series of stories culled from the pulps. Well-done examples of the short story as mass entertainment, with clear plotting, plain but effective styles, and often sentimental themes. The railroading is authentic, insofar as I can judge it, and the Western atmosphere conforms to the rules of the genre. Most of these stories are Westerns with a railroad motif or setting, not railroading stories as such. In the days before TV, pulp fiction helped people while away their free time, and I’m sure did much good, considering their unequivocal support of the mores of melodrama: the right will win out, the evildoers will get their just desserts, and the girl will marry the one who is worthy of her. ** (2007)

W. J. Burley. Wycliffe and Death in Stanley Street (1974)

     

W. J. Burley. Wycliffe and Death in Stanley Street (1974) A prostitute’s death leads Wycliffe to more or less crooked real estate deals, drug running, and the effects of naivete on an impressionable young man. Family secrets and the desire for respectability as usual interfere and delay the investigation, the solution satisfies, and ambience of the setting and tale keep us believing in this version of Cornish seaside towns. Burley’s talent is atmosphere and character. He’s also very good at sketching the details of police procedure thoroughly enough that we get the illusion of completeness, no mean feat when one considers how much of police work is the deadly dull gathering and sifting of irrelevant details. An early Wycliffe, before Kersy and Lucy Lane. A good read. **½

Louis L’Amour. The Man Called Noon (1970)

Louis L’Amour. The Man Called Noon (1970) Ruble Noon wakes up amnesic, and despite himself becomes re-entangled in a crooked attempt to steal the gold on the Davidge spread. All’s well that ends well: he recovers his self, finds a good woman in Fan Davidge, retrieves the gold, and reduces the number of baddies. A typical L’Amour: well plotted, enough variation on the stereotypes to make the characters interesting, descriptions of setting that display his knack for putting you right there in the scene, straightforward tale-telling that maintains suspense, good dialogue, and so on. I’ve kept this one because some of the action takes place on trains. A very good entertainment of its type. Many people have tried to emulate L’Amour’s Westerns, but few have come close to succeeding. ***

W. J. Burley. Wycliffe and the Guilt Edged Alibi (1971)

    W. J. Burley. Wycliffe and the Guilt Edged Alibi (1971) An unpleasant woman’s corpse dragged up by a cable-ferry’s chain, another murder, and a suicide; not a large body count. Wycliffe’s thinking meanders, his vague impressions coalesce as he discovers the family secrets that prompted the deaths.  Like most of Burley’s books, more of a meditation on crime than a strictly police procedural mystery. Character as always counts for more than technical detail. People’s unwillingness to reveal disreputable facts gets in the way, but Wycliffe’s talent for waiting in silence unnerves the suspects (and others) so that they talk just to fill up space. I like this series, partly because the TV shows based on it were so well done. Burley has the knack of hinting at the back stories of the secondary characters, so that the world of these tales seems richer than it is. **½

Will Stanton Once Upon A Time Is Enough (1969)

     Will Stanton Once Upon A Time Is Enough (1969) Stanton takes a literal and realistic view of some familiar fairy tales. E.g., Hansel and Gretel are grilled by a prosecutor who wants to convict them of the maliciously planned murder of a sweet little old lady. Bluebeard occasions a riff on Can This Marriage Be Saved? And so on. Well done, in a manner that, alas, may seem too bland for many readers these days. It’s Stanton’s deadpan assumption of normalcy that carries the satire. Victoria Chess’s drawings, reminiscent of Edward Gorey, help out. If you find this book at a yard sale somewhere, buy it. It’s a keeper. ***