Stanley G. Weinbaum (1902–1935)

Yes the science and social conventions are defined by the era in which they were written (of course), but this collection of short stories from the 1930s is a pure delight just the same. Covering such 21st century topics as genetic modification, virtual reality, and artificial intelligence, Weinbaum spins a good yarn whether it be among the "glaciers" of Venus or an impossible island off the coast of New Zealand. And his fantastical aliens were truly alien, not just physically but show more psychologically as well. When he died at the age of 33 science fiction lost one of its most promising new authors. show less

Wonderful to read an 84-year-old SFnal representation of *truly* alien consciousnesses, explicitly made to be so by the author. It was hokey to have a Mars setting, but 84 years ago not quite as hokey as it would be today.

Tweel's character is a hoot. I would love to meet this boop-snoot! And there's a twist at the end of the story that sums up humanity and colonialism right tidily. *sigh*

Much of what is claimed about the SF works of Stanley Weinbaum is valid: publishing in the mid-1930s, he did create aliens that were not derivative but truly foreign; he described extraterrestrial landscapes that were clearly not studio back-lots; he tried to craft coherent intersections of those with relatable human characters. It is easy to see how he was tremendously influential to other writers in the nascent field.

Is it dated? Well, let's see. Bad biology. Poor understanding of how show more rockets work. Racism, sexism, ethical travesties. Fine; it was 1935. But....

His human characterizations suck. The (white, American, and young) characters are simply stock types, the stories are totally formulaic, and the ethos of "shoot-it-and-find-out-what-it-was-later" palls. Dialog is straight from bank-heist movies. Don't even get me started on Weinbaum's pet recurring character: the Amazing Megalomaniac Scientist who always talks of himself in the third person....and is named _van Manderpootz_. WTF, dude?

If you WANT to see where modern SF came from, by all means read this, especially "A Martian Odyssey," "Shifting Seas," and "Redemption Cairn." If you want to see what changed the field of Wells, Burroughs, & Howard into the worlds of Heinlein, Asimov, and Bester, then you should start here. ON THE OTHER HAND, if you're hoping for gripping stories and strong voices from the past, you will be disappointed. show less

Stanley G. Weinbaum, according to Isaac Asimov, existed before the "Golden Age" of science fiction (which according to him was before the path-breaking editor John W. Campbell appeared on the scene). In those "dark ages", science fiction was mostly composed of the stories of the "space opera" style: adventure stories of the type H. Rider Haggard produced, only they were transplanted to Mars and Venus instead of Africa. Indeed, it is maybe no coincidence that Edgar Rice Burroughs created both show more Tarzan and John Carter of Mars.

Stanley Weinbaum was a short-lived meteor who blazed brilliantly across the SF night sky for a very short duration. After producing a handful of brilliant and innovative short-stories, Weinbaum succumbed to cancer at the very young age of thirty-three, leaving his best stories unwritten, according to his friends.

My first introduction to Weinbaum came through Asimov’s compilation of SF before John W. Campbell, Before the Golden Age, through the short story The Parasite Planet, where Weibaum has imagined a brilliant Venus full of deadly life-forms. Ever since, I have been waiting to get hold of more of his work, and when I came across the current volume (A Martian Odyssey), I was overjoyed.

After going through the whole book, my enthusiasm has come down a notch. These stories have not aged well: they were written the 1930’s, between the wars. Most of the world was under the thumb of the Western colonial superpowers, and the U.S.A was just starting its career as an economic power. The concept of Western supremacy permeates the stories (even though I am sure that the author never intended it), and in some cases, becomes downright objectionable. Consider the following passage from Proteus Island:

…he could, he supposed, tie her wrists and ankles; but somehow the idea appealed to him not at all. She was too naïve, too trusting, too awe-struck and worshipful. And besides, savage or not, she was a white girl over whom he had no conceivable rightful authority.

Captain Carver is here musing over what to do with the girl he has “captured” on Austin Island. Ultimately, the fact that she is white saves the girl from bondage!

However, one can pardon such attitudes which are more a product of the age than the person. Even though I found Weinbaum rather wanting as a storyteller on many occasions (many of his stories follow the formula of the boy winning the girl after rescuing her in an alien environment – and the girl is invariable beautiful), as a creator of extraterrestrial life he has no competition. The alien landscapes he creates are so original and the flora and fauna so enthralling (if a trifle frightening), that you will find yourself following the story at breakneck speed. Apart from Parasite Planet, this tome contains A Martian Odyssey, The Valley of Dreams, The Mad Moon, Redemption Cairn and Proteus Island, all choc-a-bloc full of E.T.’s to satisfy even the most finicky connoisseur. I will not detail them here, not only because I am unable to justice to his imagination in a mere book review: I do not want to take away anybody’s delight on encountering them for the first time! Also, Weinbaum has explored non-traditional areas and seminal ideas (for his time, at least) in stories like The Adaptive Ultimate.

In the afterword, Robert Bloch talks about Weinbaum’s ideas for future projects and his intention to enter into the field of fantasy – intentions which remained unfulfilled, alas, due to his untimely exit from the world stage. One sometimes feels the truth of what the M.T. Vasudevan Nair (the famous Malayalam writer) said: “Death is a clown who has no sense of the stage.”

A must-read for all SF addicts. show less