The Last Dangerous Visions

I started reading science fiction as a young teenager in the early 1970s. As I read more and more, I began to hear about this particular writer, Harlan Ellison. I wasn’t aware of having read any of his stories, but I began to gather that he was something of a character. (I was growing up in the UK and wasn't a subscriber to any of the major SF magazines, or – at that time – at all connected to fandom.) As time went by, I heard more, and even came across some of his stories, but they never made much of an impact on me, well-crafted though they were. Harlan Ellison's much-vaunted iconoclasm got lost in the background noise of the British 'New Wave' of Michael Moorcock and New Worlds, which had a higher profile on this side of the show more Atlantic.

Then word started to spread of Harlan Ellison's anthology Dangerous Visions. But for me, this was still part of the general excitement over the “New Wave”. I didn’t get to see a copy even though it had been published as early as 1967. I actually got to see the second anthology, Again, Dangerous Visions when it made its way into UK paperback (in two volumes) in 1977, some five years after its first appearance in the USA. This was at the height of my discovery of sf fandom and my almost complete immersion in sf as literature. I recognised ADV as a major landmark, but one amongst many.

I didn’t get to read the original DV collection (published in the UK in three paperback volumes) until 1980 (I remember taking the books with me to a week-long training course I attended on Teeside. That's not the sort of experience you forget easily.) By then, The Last Dangerous Visions, announced for publication in 1974, was already six years late.

Fifty years later, it has finally appeared.

But it is not the book Harlan Ellison said we would be getting. That was (eventually) going to be three big volumes, with 120 stories by 108 authors. This is a much shorter work, 24 stories by 24 authors (I am counting one story that has been split into eight parts, spaced throughout the book, as a single contribution.) The reasons for this are many, and these are explained at length by J. Michael Straczynski (the Joe Straczynski who created the iconic tv series Babylon 5 and was Harlan Ellison's friend and, eventuality, literary executor, hereafter referred to as JMS), who actually assembled this book in accordance with Harlan Ellison's wishes and his own interpretation of what Harlan would have personally smiled upon.

What do we get?

As I said, this volume contains 24 stories by 24 authors (depending on how you count them). They are bracketed by lengthy introductions by JMS, telling the story of how he came to admire Harlan Ellison's writing, how he came to meet him and later become friends with him. JMS then tells us about Ellison's particular circumstances, and offers us an explanation for the non-appearance of TLDV. In an afterword, he sets out one of the contents lists for the original anthology, which dates from 1979 but appears to have additions inserted up to as late as 1990.

Of the stories in this volume, fifteen of them appear to have been carried forward from the original anthology. JMS commissioned stories by more current writers to make up for stories that had come out of the original lineup through the authors or their estates seeking rights reversion so those stories could appear elsewhere. Other stories were removed by JMS because either they no longer seemed as 'dangerous' as they did in 1974, or because Harlan Ellison himself admitted that some stories he had bought for the collection were perhaps bought for the wrong reasons.

There are stories from writers both old and new. A.E. van Vogt's final story appears in this anthology; so does Ward Moore's. There are stories from Cory Doctorow, Robert Sheckley, David Brin, Dan Simmons and even something by 'James S.A. Corey'. Adrian Tchaikovsky has the only non-North American entry in the list. Other stories are by names not so familiar to me.

Are they 'dangerous'? Not really. Some of them read just like the sort of stories we were reading in the 1970s (which, of course, some of them are). Stand-out stories for me were Max Brooks' Hunger, though that reads rather like a piece of speculative journalism from the foreign pages of a quality newspaper; Ed Bryant's War Stories, which is the only entry which retains its Ellison fore- and afterwords; and Stephen Dedman's The Great Forest Lawn Clearance Sale – Hurry, Last Days! is a clever indictment of the modern media landscape. Cecil Castellucci's After Taste is an effective chiller about an interstellar gourmet food critic; it wasn't in any way 'dangerous', but it made me exclaim loudly when the twist was revealed, flipping the story from humour to horror in an instant. It will probably for me be the most memorable story in the book.

Cory Doctorow's The Weight of a Feather (The Weight of a Heart) is an interesting speculation on how an online society could or should deal with those who transgress social norms without breaking any laws. (It is one of the stories JMS commissioned to replace ones dropped.)

Dan Simmons' The Final Pogrom – a survivor from the 1979 contents list – foresees a resurgence of anti-Semitism in the USA; in light of events since it was written, it has added relevance, though what that relevance is may depend on the viewpoint of the reader. It may muddy the waters further with respect to Simmons' own publicly-stated views on other controversial topics.

Adrian Tchaikovsky's First Sight is a first contact story that has implications for ourselves. Kayo Hartenbaum's Binary System is an effective study of isolation amongst those tasked with future roles safeguarding space traffic, though I was initially unsure whether we were in space or at sea (for a while, the terminology could have suggested either); the story is no worse for that. And the James Corey story, Judas Iscariot didn’t kill himself, explores perhaps the last taboo that is still widely held to be unacceptable, and the way that specific communities in society deal with it. There is nothing salacious in it; it is possibly the most 'dangerous' story in the collection; yet I came away from it feeling vaguely dissatisfied, because it is all diagnosis and no prescription.

It is still a powerful story, as opposed to the one story in the collection that just did not work for me; Mildred Downey Broxon's The Danann Children laugh. This is a piece of pure Oirishness that is a straight up fantasy story, wrapped up in a changeling tale set in post-Easter Rising rural Ireland. I would have been happier with this had the author actually been Irish; as it stands, it deals in stereotypes. Its 'dangerousness' is not evident to me.

One criticism: none of the stories are identified by the dates they were written. Readers have to try to figure out the year of composition from contextual clues or knowledge of the writers. JMS has produced afterwords for each story, written in the present tense reflecting what was happening to the writers at the time they submitted their stories, followed by an update as to what happened to them next. But I found not knowing exactly when any story was written irritating.

So what's missing?

The bottom line is that the book now finally published isn't the Last Dangerous Visions we might have had in the late 1970s or 1980s. As I said above, JMS reprints a contents list drawn up by Harlan Ellison in 1979, and analysis of the stories and authors throws up some interesting things. Of the 120 stories in that list, thirteen were by women writers; six were by British writers (seven if you count Charles Platt as British, which he was by birth; plus another story by Ian Watson removed from the list); and two were by Australian writers (plus another by an American writer who became a permanent Australian resident, Jack Dann).

In contrast, this collection only includes four stories by women writers (plus one by a writer who identifies as non-binary); and there is only one story from an author who is not domiciled in the North American continent (Adrian Tchaikovsky).
JMS addresses the point about women writers; he comments that in one case, the executors of the estate of one such writer whose story he wanted to include withheld permission (despite JMS having established before that writer's death that she was keen to see her story included) on the bizarre grounds that the edition of TLDV that he would produce would be “too male”. There must be any number of reasons why other stories that Harlan Ellison still had the rights to were excluded. The reasons for the North American bias, compared with the 1979 contents list, are less clear. Certainly, JMS excluded a number of stories that no longer seemed relevant, or sufficiently 'dangerous', or both. It's a little unfortunate that this process appears to have made TLDV into a mainly American anthology; but as they say, we are where we are.

Why was it delayed?

It turns out that Harlan Ellison was a long-time sufferer from bipolar disorder. The self-imposed Grand Project of TLDV was too much for him to be able to cope with. The project spiralled out of Ellison's control; he was still buying stories for it into the last years of his life. Joe Straczynski recounts a tale of inertia overtaking his friend in ways that are at times harrowing.

For a project of such notoriety, this explanation almost seems too superficial, too glib. And yet, from what JMS (and others) have written on the subject, it seems to be the case. Harlan Ellison believed his own hype about the project and did not, could not exercise any control over it; and it ran away from him.

(Joe Straczynski was no stranger to this sort of thing. Michael O'Hare, who played space station commander Jeffrey Sinclair in the first season of Babylon 5, dropped out early from the show. His character was supposed to be written out mid-way through season three; his early departure was ostensibly because he had an offer lined up for after B5 that the producers brought forward, and JMS was content to let him go. Only twenty years later, and after O'Hare's early death, did JMS reveal that O'Hare was suffering from severe depression at the time and JMS was not going to hold him to a contract that he had little chance of fulfilling, and which any attempt to hold him to it could have had disastrous consequences for O'Hare.)

Was it worth the wait?

Partly, this will depend on your personal reaction to Harlan Ellison the man, as well as Harlan Ellison the writer and sf personality.

JMS makes an interesting point about his relationship with Harlan Ellison. Straczynski was a self-confessed fan, and that was because he came from a similar background to Harlan Ellison; was told he would never amount to anything; but took inspiration from a feted writer who, like him, was from the wrong side of the tracks. We get told to "write for your audience": are some of us not blown away by Harlan Ellison's writing because we're not his audience, either in background or expectation? Perhaps, like those who found Harlan Ellison's work at a time when they needed him as an example, those of us for whom he did not play that role aren't drawn to the writing or the man.

If this book had been published during Ellison's lifetime, it would have been a major publishing event. As it stands, only those who know about Harlan Ellison or the whole DV saga will find it essential. As an anthology of edgy sf from the last fifty years, it is neither comprehensive enough nor relevant enough to impress modern readers. Perhaps I'm too old now to be shocked by anything; certainly, whilst I found a few of the stories striking, with unexpected twists, most of them completely failed to shock me and some of them were clunkily obvious in their messages.

But for JMS' explanation for the fifty-year hiatus in the publication of TLDV, and his pen portrait of Harlan Ellison, the book is invaluable: but only for those for whom the subject or the history has any relevance at all.

JMS also makes the comment that a fair proportion of the stories originally slated for TLDV probably couldn't be published in the current social climate, whilst the whole roll-call of original authors would today look far too male, pale and stale.

In the 1960s, those days of liberated attitudes, writers felt that they were taking frank and open positions on discussing matters that up until then had been taboo subjects for discussion in polite - or any - society. Yet so many stories written then now look at best dreadfully dated, and at worst either completely unreadable or possibly even irrelevant. This is probably just the way things go. Fashions change. So do opinions. In all of the creative arts, for every work of greatness from the past that we universally revere, there are probably hundreds, or even thousands, that are forgotten because later generations - and not just our own - found them irrelevant, trite, misled or just plain wrong (for any given value of 'wrong'). JMS has had to exercise the judgement of Solomon over deciding which of the stories left to him from the iceberg that TLDV had become. He recognised that whatever he chose was bound to upset some people, either the purists who wanted to see the book we should have had in 1979, or those picking up TLDV for the first time and wondering why it feels out of its time.

In the course of reading TLDV, I have had to ask myself a question. Would a British publisher pick this up? Although the original anthologies saw British publication at the time, I'm not convinced that they would today. The name of Harlan Ellison doesn't have the same resonance now as it once did; and a serious market for written science fiction is definitely lacking, especially in the shorter forms. Readers who remember the original DV anthologies will be my age (more or less) and not in the key demographic for book purchasers. And too many publishers have set ideas about what science fiction is and who is buying it and reading it. TLDV isn’t going to fit that demographic. I'd like to be proved wrong, but I don’t think any UK publisher would now consider this to be a viable proposition.

Those who feel strongly about Harlan Ellison are likely to find something in this book to irritate or upset them. So be it. Those of us whose primary interest is science fiction, the telling of stories that present possibilities, dangers and warnings for our own time, will not be so exercised. Such readers will hopefully accept this book at face value. It draws a line under one of sf's great controversies. This is probably the best Last Dangerous Visions we are ever likely to get. show less

This book cannot be reviewed.

Let me expand on that. For most of us, there is no way this book can be reviewed in an unbiased manner. Harlan Ellison is one of the more complicated personalities in science fiction. And the odyssey of the origin, travails, and culmination of his collection, The Last Dangerous Visions, will always outweigh the impact and content of the final result.

If you do not know that history, here’s a semi-quick synopsis. Ellison published Dangerous Visions in 1967. It was a collection of original short science fiction stories written by various science fiction luminaries and up-and-comers. It was intended to stretch the genre, specifically setting out to break boundaries and push some of the community’s greatest show more talents to accomplish something more. There was nothing like it and it was a smashing success. In short order, Ellison began work on Again, Dangerous Visions. The popularity of the first collection brought Ellison an embarrassment of valuable content. The first book was just short of 550 pages. The second, originally published in 1972, was 760 pages and was often subsequently issued in two volumes.

Success bred success, so Ellison began work on The Last Dangerous Visions. And this is where the wheels fell off. For the rest of Ellison’s life, he was answering questions about when it would be published. And Ellison, until the end, promised it would get done. It grew and grew. (In 1979, the planned book was composed of three volumes with 108 writers and 120 stories.) And the promises continued. And nothing came out to the public.

Much ink has been spilled by those who only tangentially know what was occurring (if they even knew that much.) But there was a shroud of secrecy that only added to the collection’s mythology. Many enemies were made. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. And, for many of us, we just waited patiently…hoping, building expectations, but realizing that it would probably never happen.

And now, almost seven years after Ellison’s death, it has been published. And with all that history, and with all that waiting, and with all those expectations, there is no way most readers can review this book in an unbiased manner. I am about to try. And I know I will fail.

The collection starts with an introductory essay by J. Michael Straczynski (the gentleman who completed the impossible task of finishing this book) titled “Ellison Exegesis”. It provides the story of what happened and what went wrong – at least, as close as we will ever come to the complete story. In the process of telling this story, we learn so much more about Ellison than we ever knew before.

The essay provides the collection’s history. But it also provides the impact Ellison’s mental issues had on the process. These are issues fans may have had a hint at, but never really understood. And the essay puts all this together to show the anguish of a man who made promises to so many people, struggled to fulfill those promises, but fell short. There are enemies of Ellison who will probably not believe a word of this. But, for those of us who respected what the man accomplished, this explains so much.

One essay that makes the entire enterprise worth the price of admission.

On to the stories. Most are good enough. Only one or two are not worth the ink. And more than one are quite good. However, the series always had a way of getting multiple Hugo and Nebula award nominations. I don’t see that happening here. And part of the reason is based on what Ellison had always been trying to do with the series – offer authors the chance to say things they weren’t allowed to say, to stretch their abilities and ideas. And I don’t really see that in this collection. Good stories, but not a lot of stretching.

Which leads to the final essay in the book, also by Straczynski, the Afterword “Tetalesta! Compiling The Last Dangerous Visions”. Once again, more insight into the way Ellison worked, and how the way he worked meant he would never publish The Last Dangerous Visions. And again, great insight. But the fascinating thing is that Straczynski seems to also recognize that there isn’t as much “danger” in these stories. And he makes the case that there are pressures on the publishing world that put the kibosh on some things authors would like to be saying.

It was just this type of environment that spawned the original Dangerous Visions. And here we are in the same situation. But there is not a personality like Ellison to help authors stand up and do what they really want to do.

So, the fascinating thing is that, while the stories are fine, the stories around the stories make this book important and a must have.

I warned I couldn’t do this in an unbiased fashion. And the above proves that right. But I stand by the fact that everyone should read this book. They should read it to better understand Harlan Ellison. They should read it to enjoy some decent writing. And they should read it to recognize that censorship is alive and well, even in the science fiction community, and we must constantly fight against it. show less

Controversary has surrounded this long-awaited work, albeit for different reasons that those of both the initial critically acclaimed DANGEROUS VISIONS (1967) and its follow-up AGAIN, DANGEROUS VISIONS (1972). At long last, published over a half-century since the last volume, following all the lost hope, frustrations, and grievances of the fans, the included authors, the publisher and, most-of-all, the emotional self-flagellation of its too-late diagnosed bipolar genius author/editor Harlan himself, could any "THE LAST DANGEROUS VISIONS" live up to the Olympian expectations of all concerned?

No. And yet, it is still a volume I needed to obtain more to understand Harlan, this 5'2" giant of the American short story -- not just of "science show more fiction," a black hole labeling that he railed against but, in the public showcase, never escaped its event horizon.

With his initially conceived three-volume, one-hundred-thirteen story anthology magnum opus [see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_Dangerous_Visions for the list of stories initially accepted for inclusion), each with its own Ellison introduction, that would compose THE LAST DANGEROUS VISIONS, Harlan damned himself to the same fate as Sisyphus -- but Harlan brought his own impossibly heavy boulder to his self-created hell.

If you are an Ellison fan, or a fan of the history of modern science fiction, or a snapshot of living in the 1960s and 1970s, or have an interest in the challenges of genius enchained by mental disability, this book is worth obtaining for its "Introduction" and "Ellison Exegesis" both by Ellison friend, literary executor, and genius author/screenwriter/filmmaker J. Michael Staczynski (of Babylon 5 fame) alone, composing the books first 76 pages.

[Note: While I have noted the unflattering overall critical reception of the thirty-one stories that, finally, compose the published THE LAST DANGEROUS VISIONS, I have not yet read them. When I do, I'll update my review and "rate" this book. First, I am interested in rereading the first two volumes to see if they remain as pertinent today as they were over fifty years ago, and how this new posthumous anthology in its truncated form from Harlan's initial "vision" stands in comparison as someone who, albeit a pre-teen at the time I first read the first two books lived through and recall those times as, perhaps, a number of the present-day reviewers did not.] show less

It's a good collection, but it doesn't feel particularly dangerous. The first two did, but I read them in my teens, when I was younger and more naive. I will say, the saga of why this volume did not come to be until after Ellison's death is fascinating. And there are some excellent stories in here: my particular favorite was Adrian Tchaikovsky's "First Sight." YMMV.