Robin Scott Wilson

Back in the day (a long, large number of days ago) I read through Damon Knight’s Orbit series and Terry Carr’s Universe series and John Carnell’s New Writings in SF series and a number of other short story collections that sprang into the world during the “New Wave” of science fiction. I wasn’t reading them when they first came out, but it was pretty soon after. What I remember is that a number of the collections were very hard to read through. There would be one or two show more (sometimes more) quite decent stories – even some award winners. But there was a lot of experimentation that, while it might have been needed to grow the genre, did not do much to entertain me. And it seemed that the longer a series would exist, the more obscure the stories would become. (And there would be few “success” stories.)

Reading this second collection from Clarion made me feel like I was part way through one of those early series – a lot of struggles, a couple of almost gems, and a question of whether it was worth my time. (Of course, in the 70s we were all so cool we had to pretend it was worth our time, even if it wasn’t.) And then throw in another challenge – because these are Clarion students and graduates, they tend to be stories by new authors that…well, they are trying.

The result is a collection of quite forgettable stories wrapped around some interesting thoughts and concepts. In particular, when the seasoned authors – the ones who came in as instructors – talk about what they experienced, it can become very interesting. Of course, as a Harlan Ellison fan, one of my favorite essays is his retelling of trying to break through to various Clarion classes by using techniques from Synanon. I don’t know that the actual story or lessons are that great, but he is a master story-teller, so it becomes interesting.

And, I don’t know if it was the afterglow from Harlan’s essay, but the story after next – “And Dragons in the Sky” by Glen Cook – was completely engrossing. It started out feeling like a cliché – a man sneaks aboard a space ship as a worker who will help rebuild an alien ship, but is actually trying to find information regarding riches desired by the entire universe - but quickly ecame entertaining and compelling as we learnd the underlying stories. (And what does it tell you that I had even forgotten there was a story between the Ellison essay and the Cook story.)

The essays (particularly Harlan’s) and one or two stories (particularly Cook’s) elevate this beyond bad, but that is not enough to recommend the overall collection. show less

I found this at Eastercon, and while it was quite tatty, and most of the contents wouldn’t normally appeal to me, but the fact it was a mix of short stories followed by essays by the authors on writing those stories, and some of the names involved included Delany, Le Guin and Russ, so I thought it worth a bash. It also included a story by the editor. I don’t get that. If you edit an anthology, you do not include one of our own stories. It’s hugely unethical. I don’t even care if show more you’re a co-editor. You edit, you do not contribute. It makes you look bad, it makes everyone involved in the anthology look bad. And Scott Wilson’s story in this particular anthology, which is otherwise quite good, is easily the worst. As it is, the stories are variable – the Russ, ‘The Man Who Could Not See Devils’, is not one of her better ones, but the following essay is quite interesting. The Delany is ‘We, in Some Strange Power’s Employ, Move on a Rigorous Line’, which has always felt to me, in part, like a prototype for Dhalgren, and is one of those Delany stories I like more the more often I read it. His essay on the piece is especially good, and his approach to writing echoes my own in many ways. Le Guin contributes ‘Nine Lives’, the story about a ten-clone, and it’s okay. Damon Knight annotates his own story, ‘Masks’, although annotations overstate the literary quality of the story. And Kate Wilhelm’s dissection of her story ‘The Planners’ gives some useful tips on point of view. As a sf anthology, Those Who Can is middling at best, but the essays on writing greatly improve it. It’s a pity my copy is so tatty. show less

This book was a big disappointment to me, primarily because I went in with great expectations. I have read the third book in the series and remember it being quite good. Such is not the case here. Instead, what we see are the developmental works of a number of authors learning to stretch their wings. That is not necessarily a bad thing, and definitely fits in with the concepts of the Clarion Workshop. But these are stories that, while nice, are just not ready for prime time. Oh, it’s show more interesting seeing some of the first efforts of soon-to-be greats like Vonda McIntyre or Octavia Butler or Ed Bryant or George Alec Effinger, but it’s not really worth the price of admission.

But there is some redemption. Interwoven with these fledgling stories are essays by the top of the craft. That means you can read the thoughts of Delany and Ellison and Knight and Leiber and Pohl and Wilhelm on various subjects that (sometimes very tangentially) relate to writing. These are almost uniformly as good as the stories are mediocre. Which means that, if nothing else, the book is worth the read for these essays. However, that isn’t really enough to make it worth going out of your way to find the collection show less

I read it for the stories, all by respected names. There were some articles of criticism, but they haven't stuck.