Love Story in Three Acts
by David Gerrold
Nova One, ed. Harry Harrison (Delacorte, 1970); reprinted (Sphere, 1975), pp. 111-123.
SF short story. Gerrold’s two-hander sees a jaded couple hook themselves up to a ‘guidance model’ to improve their lacklustre lovemaking. Cue the retrospectively tame sex scene. Regrettably, the protagonists are banal archetypes, the ending a telegraphed twist (spoiler: the placebo effect).
The Quiet Woman
by Christopher Priest (Bloomsbury, 1990)
audiobook read by Jane Collingwood (Bolinda, 2016)
Granted, speculative fiction should contrast the everyday with the unreal; but Priest takes ‘everyday’ to banal extremes, and his ‘unreal’ is merely a half-baked melange of surveillance state and mental breakdown. A book-length, autological lament/sneer at the state of the publishing industry.
A Present From Joe
by Eric Frank Russell
Astounding Science Fiction (February 1949); reprinted Best sf: Science Fiction Stories, ed. Edmund Crispin (Faber and Faber, 1955), pp. 199-213.
SF short story. In his inimitable, puckish manner, Russell attributes mankind’s warlike propensities to the telepathically induced manipulations of a non-spacefaring alien race whose invasion plan requires humanity first to come to them! The aliens’ POV reveals a Machiavellian kinship of thought.
The New Wine
by John Christopher
from The Twenty-Second Century (Grayson & Grayson, 1954); reprinted Best sf: Science Fiction Stories, ed. Edmund Crispin (Faber and Faber, 1955), pp. 168-182.
SF short story that starts off exploring the emotional ramifications of time dilation (for a couple soon to be separated), before segueing into a threnody on reckless, irreversible scientific experimentation (induced telepathy). Sombre food for thought, undermined by a token twist ending.
The Dead Shall Be Raised
by George Bellairs (John Gifford, 1942)
audiobook read by Ric Jerrom (Isis, 2017)
Bellairs writes with literary pretensions and a faux-waggish jocularity, intent on scoring points off his cast of village stereotypes. While thus engaged, he leaves Inspector Littlejohn to follow basic leads and listen to confessions. A paltry, self-solving mystery with only one suspect.
A Thief in Time
by Robert Sheckley, Galaxy Science Fiction (July, 1954); UK No. 21 (December, 1954), pp. 4-27.
A light-hearted romp but the time travel paradox isn’t explored so much as indulged in, ad hoc, until (it feels) Sheckley rollicked his word count up to novelette length and the editor had enough pages filled to put a stop to it.
The Science Fiction Book: An Illustrated History
by Franz Rottensteiner (Thames and Hudson, 1975)
Through a focus on its authors, Rottensteiner traces the development of science fiction from its early precursors through to 1975, giving due attention to European writers. The illustrations are generally reproductions of cover- and internal artwork—adding curiosity value 50 years on.
Blood and Circuses
by Kerry Greenwood (McPhee Gribble, 1994)
audiobook read by Stephanie Daniel (ABC Audio, 2011)
Phryne’s vulnerability is a new development, and one that was perhaps needed for the series to retain credibility. The roaming omniscient narrative, however, is symptomatic of a mystery that doesn’t quite work (being rather too hemmed in by Greenwood’s extensive circus research).
Doctor Who: The Power of Three
by Chris Chibnall; dir. Douglas Mackinnon (BBC, 2012)
An important episode in Amy and Rory’s storyline. Gentle humour, endearing character moments, but the ‘stuff of nightmares’ Shakri are brushed aside with laughable ease. Chibnall might have done better to spend less time on Rory’s dad and more on the resolution.
Space 1999: Breakaway
by E. C. Tubb (Orbit, 1975)
A novelisation of episodes 1, 13, 19 and 10 (production code rather than broadcast order) of the 1975 British SF series. Tubb’s prose is slapdash, and the stitching together of crises affords a lurching, improbable quality to science that already obliterated credulity.