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Tesseract, v. 2, issue 1, January 1937
11
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tesseract, 11 AUTHORSOPHY Wisdom and words from the masters of fantasy, edited and connotated by Louis C. Smith. Various reports from my secret agents in the offices of the publishers indicate that I have slipped past the first instalment of this column with my reputation intact and my life still in no greater danger of ending... With which let me state my pet peeve and that of several other fans of the more elite strata... that provoking response of world-saver EDMOND HAMILTON to all queries concerning himself, life, antecedents and general backgroundings.. It runs, this stereotyped form-letter: "Well, I am a hunched, bearded old man who spends most of his time in highly abstruse astrophysical experiments in a secret laboratory I have hollowed out inside a mountain near here. In between monkeying with cold light, anti-gravitational forces and destroying rays, I take trips on a matter-radio to the farther stars, and have two faithful ten-armed men from Capella. Gulk and Ulk, who act as my bodyguard. I depend on you to keep this secret .... Ed Hamilton." And to the other end of the swing, consider that finest of fellows and ace among super-science writers, EDWARD E, SMITH, Ph.D - who says in part: "I have debated long whether or not to answer your letter - for I am not really an author at all..." Modesty of the rarest, and a sincere belief. But fortunately a belief not shared by the majority of fans. FRANCIS FLAGG, who has lived a part of his life in this region (San Francisco Bay) and has centered several of his stories hereabouts... He lectured for a time in the University of California Extension Division, and thereby developed a serious throat ailment. Of which he said: "I find that the life suits me well enough as I am not allowed to talk at all, have little inclination - one does not when he has to keep still - for social affairs - and..." And where is he these days ! Has the commercialism of the pulps discouraged still another of the fine old-line writers of first-rate fantasy? VICTOR A. ENDERSBY, who is one of California's loading engineers, who was closely connected with the construction of the Bay Bridge, and who wrote several excellent tales, including a Wonder Stories prize winner, voices some succint opinion on the historical side of science fiction: "There have been only a few real scientific writers to date, foremost among whom I would place H.G. Wells, and one or two others, with Jules Verne following some distance behind. The greater part of the writers of today are either hack writers who have acquired their literary ability in hurry-up correspondence schools, or the like, and who have crammed just enough on science to get by; or else they are genuine scientific bugs whose interests in mechanism and technology have dried up their capacity to portray real human emotions; though there are sore exceptions such as MERRITT, Dr. KELLER, etc., with occasionally Verrill. There are a few others whose stories sparkle now and then , but not very regularly, and the work of the above mentioned has, to my mind, been pretty spotty, in places even terrible. What I am saying in a roundabout way is that the history of science fiction is yet in its infancy, and only a few of the present-day writers have any chance to survive. The real scientific fiction of the future is going to be on quite another plane. I hope that it will not sound too conceited if I say that "After Five Thousand Years" was a stumbling attempt to something along the lines of what I conceive to be the future scientific fiction. The American race - it is really race in its own right now - is still in its infancy and very juvenile regarding these matters. It is curious to note that most of the enthusiastic praise of my stories has come from abroad where the taste in fiction is considerably more matured and cultured. However, the time will come in the United States when your literature will reach heights beyond anything known now in the Old World, and the present vogue in fantastic fiction seems to be a dim realization on the part of our people that there is something better for the human mind to exorcise itself on than the wearisome old type of sex slush, industrial strife, war and adventure, etc., which we have had served up to us for the last thirty or forty years." Conceited in parts ! I hardly think so;
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tesseract, 11 AUTHORSOPHY Wisdom and words from the masters of fantasy, edited and connotated by Louis C. Smith. Various reports from my secret agents in the offices of the publishers indicate that I have slipped past the first instalment of this column with my reputation intact and my life still in no greater danger of ending... With which let me state my pet peeve and that of several other fans of the more elite strata... that provoking response of world-saver EDMOND HAMILTON to all queries concerning himself, life, antecedents and general backgroundings.. It runs, this stereotyped form-letter: "Well, I am a hunched, bearded old man who spends most of his time in highly abstruse astrophysical experiments in a secret laboratory I have hollowed out inside a mountain near here. In between monkeying with cold light, anti-gravitational forces and destroying rays, I take trips on a matter-radio to the farther stars, and have two faithful ten-armed men from Capella. Gulk and Ulk, who act as my bodyguard. I depend on you to keep this secret .... Ed Hamilton." And to the other end of the swing, consider that finest of fellows and ace among super-science writers, EDWARD E, SMITH, Ph.D - who says in part: "I have debated long whether or not to answer your letter - for I am not really an author at all..." Modesty of the rarest, and a sincere belief. But fortunately a belief not shared by the majority of fans. FRANCIS FLAGG, who has lived a part of his life in this region (San Francisco Bay) and has centered several of his stories hereabouts... He lectured for a time in the University of California Extension Division, and thereby developed a serious throat ailment. Of which he said: "I find that the life suits me well enough as I am not allowed to talk at all, have little inclination - one does not when he has to keep still - for social affairs - and..." And where is he these days ! Has the commercialism of the pulps discouraged still another of the fine old-line writers of first-rate fantasy? VICTOR A. ENDERSBY, who is one of California's loading engineers, who was closely connected with the construction of the Bay Bridge, and who wrote several excellent tales, including a Wonder Stories prize winner, voices some succint opinion on the historical side of science fiction: "There have been only a few real scientific writers to date, foremost among whom I would place H.G. Wells, and one or two others, with Jules Verne following some distance behind. The greater part of the writers of today are either hack writers who have acquired their literary ability in hurry-up correspondence schools, or the like, and who have crammed just enough on science to get by; or else they are genuine scientific bugs whose interests in mechanism and technology have dried up their capacity to portray real human emotions; though there are sore exceptions such as MERRITT, Dr. KELLER, etc., with occasionally Verrill. There are a few others whose stories sparkle now and then , but not very regularly, and the work of the above mentioned has, to my mind, been pretty spotty, in places even terrible. What I am saying in a roundabout way is that the history of science fiction is yet in its infancy, and only a few of the present-day writers have any chance to survive. The real scientific fiction of the future is going to be on quite another plane. I hope that it will not sound too conceited if I say that "After Five Thousand Years" was a stumbling attempt to something along the lines of what I conceive to be the future scientific fiction. The American race - it is really race in its own right now - is still in its infancy and very juvenile regarding these matters. It is curious to note that most of the enthusiastic praise of my stories has come from abroad where the taste in fiction is considerably more matured and cultured. However, the time will come in the United States when your literature will reach heights beyond anything known now in the Old World, and the present vogue in fantastic fiction seems to be a dim realization on the part of our people that there is something better for the human mind to exorcise itself on than the wearisome old type of sex slush, industrial strife, war and adventure, etc., which we have had served up to us for the last thirty or forty years." Conceited in parts ! I hardly think so;
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