ScientiFiction

Did we really expect the future to have flying squads of storm troopers springing into action on their Vespas?

        "Hard-science" science fiction has been spiraling into a black hole since the death of John W. Campbell. It began when SF based on real science was perceived as too hard to read by the ninnyhammers who come out of our education system. Then the ninnyhammers grew up and found writing science into SF was even harder. You had to know like math and like physics and like all that hard stuff. It was way more easy to write about elves and dragons and cyberspace. Thus we have a world where Piers Anthony, Alan Dean Smith, and William Gibson are best-selling authors. It makes you wonder what the nincompoops of the next generation are going to consider "speculative fiction:" stories about a trio of bears and little girls in red outfits?

        Just as Raymond Chandler was the step-father of the detective novel, Robert A. Heinlein filled the same role in modern science fiction. Here are some of his works along with those of his intellectual offspring.

The Early Robert A. Heinlein

        Robert Heinlein's work began with the short story, "Life-Line," in 1939. From there, he was a major contributor to John W. Campbell's "Astounding Science Fiction" magazine under his own name and pseudonyms such as Anson MacDonald and Lyle Monroe.

        Perhaps the most-discussed modern science fiction author, he helped realize Campbell's dream of what science fiction should be. His "early" works progressed through 1959, and ended with Starship Troopers. Why there? Because after that, he discovered sex, and it dropped a wooden shoe into gears of his work. The man could not write about sex. Oh sure, his "later" works all featured sexual liaisons and encounters, but they read like a blind man writing about rainbows.

        That complaint aside, Heinlein helped shape the character of a couple of generations of kids, including me.

The Later Heinlein

        The "later" Heinlein emerged in 1961 with Stranger In a Strange Land. As I said above, this novel marks the inclusion of Heinleinian sex: sanitary, shameful yet much too frank, with a feeling of remoteness to the most intimate of acts.

        The inclusion of these latex-glove sexual relations continues through his novels after that, culminating in The Number of the Beast. There's a scene where Woodrow Wilson "Lazarus Long" Smith is having intercourse with Hilda "Sharpy" Corners Burroughs and they talk through the whole thing. Not words of endearment or excitement, nope, not in an RAH sex scene. They negotiate the details of a contract. As the scene climaxes – forgive the pun – Smith informs his partner that he's about to have an orgasm and asks if she's ready. She tells him "I'm climaxing steadily; let 'er rip!" Not exactly the hotsie-totsie kind of language one uses during hot-wet monkey-love; more like what Mensa members think is sex-talk.

        His work improved with the de-emphasis on sex scenes after 1979, coincident with the surgical re-opening of his carotid artery. I guess more blood was flowing back into the big head. Although his last few novels were an improvement over The Number of the Beast, they never regained the flavor of his pre-1959 works. This isn't to say that his prior stuff was platinum-plated gold. There were a couple of detective stories he wrote earlier in his career – where he dolloped in Heinlein sex – that stunk on ice. There are at least two stories from his early career he refused to allow into any collections. He called them his "stinkeroos." Believe me, if he thought they were worse than his mystery stories, they must have corroded the eyes.

        Some exceptions in his post-1959 work notable for their excellence were Glory Road, 1963, and The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, 1966.

        Lest you get the wrong impression, I'd rather read anything by RAH than any other author. I wish he'd lived as long as Lazarus Long.

John Varley

        The finest Gadget Science Fiction author writing today. That takes in a lot of territory, especially considering some of the authors listed here, but it's true. He has the imagination to create brontosaurus ranching on the moon for purposes of creating dinoburgers and make it seem a mundane part of what we should expect.

        Yeah, he also looks like a hippie, but that's just because he is one. According to autobiographical info in "The Varley Reader," a collection of his short stories, he lived in Haight-Ashbury, attended Woodstock, and successfully avoided the draft through administrative resistance – he buried his draftboard in paperwork.

        I gotta love anyone who wears Hawaiian shirts, but I'm not sure how recently that photo was taken. If you go to his personal web site, what must be later photos of John make him look like a tall, thin, Santa Claus. And, he's only four years older than me. Yikes!

        His short works in "Galaxy" magazine during the mid '70s defined a renaissance of gadget SF.

Larry Niven

        "Wonder," that's the word that comes to mind when I read Niven's works. Here's a guy who, if he didn't invent the ringworld concept, at least was the major popularizer of it. His Known Space playground is populated with beings from when the universe was young to an explosive wavefront from the galactic core that will blow through here in 30,000 years or so.

        He plays well with others, such as Jerry Pournelle [below] and Steven Barnes. He's also quit willing to share his playground with others.

Jerry Pournelle

        Science fiction writer and computer maven. He's been writing for "Byte" almost since the time the personal computer was invented. I know his column has been running since a "portable" computer was the size of a three-suiter suitcase and ran off of two 5¼-inch floppy disks.

        He's an odd bird to classify. I'd call him a Libertarian, but he doesn't have the complete government hands-off attitude that Neil Smith [below] advocates. His own novels hit OK on the evaluation meter, but his work shines when in collaboration with Larry Niven [above]. Their The Mote in God's Eye and Footfall stand out as nearly perfect examples as First Contact and Alien Invasion novels.

        He's Runner-Up in the "Bob Heinlein Look-Alike Award." For the winner, see below.

L. Neil Smith

        One of Smith's talents is the ability to write "strangeness." He can describe a mundane setting in such a way as to make it seem unfamiliar yet not unknown. One of the best examples of this is in Tom Paine Maru where he has two races on a planet about to engage in a great sea battle. It reads like the Battle of Midway, yet not. If he'd just concentrate more on story and plot and tone down the touting of the Libertarian cause, his stuff would rank about 9.5 on the RAH meter.

        Smith falls into two categories on this site: SF and Hard Boiled. He gracefully combines both in his Win Bear series.

Joe Haldeman

        The defining period in Haldeman's life was his time in Vietnam. His towering novel, Forever War, is an SF reflection of the army, the government, and the conflict that affected his life as a draftee.

        While Forever War was a logical extrapolation of the fighting technology Heinlein pioneered in Starship Troopers, Haldeman showed us the psyche of the reluctant warrior: a draftee – like himself – who saw the military not as a place to put oneself between enemies and his country, but as a bureaucratic juggernaut doing things "by the book" rather than for a rational purpose.

        He wins my "Bob Heinlein Look-Alike Award."

Jack McDevitt

        I recently discoverd Jack. He specializes in Space Opera and thus qualifies for a bright-light in my Gadget SF Hall of Fame. But, don't think he's all lightening and thunder in the E. E. "Doc" Smith school of planet-busting Space Opera. His novels offer a sense of wonder and expanse a his people traverse across the galaxy, but they are grounded enough to make it seem like every-day business, exciting every-day business.

        Jack came in last in the "Bob Heinlein Look-Alike Contest," but was dubbed Mr. Congenialtiy.

David Brin

        Here's another hard-science SF writer I enjoy when he's not stuck in sequelitis. He burst onto the SF scene with this Uplift novels, but has also produced some nice work outside of his series universe, The Practice Effect being a notable exception. Humor is hard to write, and Brin proves he's not so good at it. I have a hunch it was an earlier effort that had sat in the "trunk" until he'd sold Sundiver and the Startide Rising. It reads much more amateurish than those efforts.

        For a while he fell victim to sequelitis: he wrote long, intricate novels that were ultimately 650-page cliff-hangers that didn't resolve the initial conflict.

        He's probably the only one of the authors listed here that I wouldn't care to have over for dinner. His reputation as an acid-tongued prima donna has preceded him.