Your Humble Blogger recently revealed a fondness for Robert Silverberg’s writing. I didn’t, however, mention what I actually like about it. One thing I think he’s terrific at is world-building, which he often does quickly and powerfully, sketching rather than painting. Another thing I like is his interest in temporal dislocation, sometimes in actual time-travel, but often through resurrection. Both of those things work particularly well in short stories, and when I happened to pick up the Collected Stories of Robert Silverberg, Volume 1, in 1993 or so, I thought, Oh, yes, that’s what annoys me about his novels, the other three hundred pages.
Anyway, I kept my eye out for volume 2, which I never saw, evidently because (a) they were never published in the US, and (2) they went out of print several months before they were released. So when I was in the Silverberg sections of the library, and saw a collection of short stories, I thought I should pick it up. And I did. It was Phases of the Moon, and as it has twenty-three stories, a satisfyingly large number, and a truckload of authorial commentary and rumination, you’d think YHB would be pleased. And, honestly, I’m not sure why I’m not. I suppose it’s partly because I’ve read a lot of these before (I think nine, but I’m not absolutely sure about some of them, which seem familiar, but that may be imagination rather than memory). Partly, perhaps, it’s because I don’t particularly like Mr. Silverberg’s public persona, as opposed to his writing. Honestly, I don’t much like the authorial voice, if you know what I mean.
Some authors, I read their stuff and I like it a lot, and I think I’d like to meet this person. Some, I don’t like the book or story that much, but the author somehow seems nice, or witty, or pleasant. Some, the writing is terrific, but I have a (unfair) sense that the author is a prick. Mr. Silverberg is high on that last list. He’s not the only one: I wouldn’t want to meet John Irving, for instance, or Art Spiegelman, or for that matter Elvis Costello. Doesn’t stop me from loving their stuff. And I’ll add again that the sense is unfair, and I know that not only am I forming a judgment without merit, but that my sense that, say, Connie Willis or Laurie King are great companions are also without merit, and I may well have them all in the wrong boxes. I can live with that; likely I’ll never meet any of ’em, and if I do, I hope I’ve got sense enough to form all new prejudices based on new first impressions.
Anyway, in the case of Mr. Silverberg, not only do the stories and novels themselves give me an unpleasant impression of his personality, but the ruminations and commentary come off somehow annoying (again, this is my own take, influenced by my pre-existing antipathy). Also, I have heard second-hand that his criticism and analysis of the genre and its trends is unpleasant and uncharitable; I’ve refrained from reading any of it for that reason.
The book, by the way, is, as it was intended to be, a magnificent way to look at the trends in speculative fiction over the decades. I can well imagine a spec-fic class using this book as a frame for the semester. Yes, it would have to be supplemented by a host of other stuff by other authors. It would be fascinating, I think, to discuss the ways in which Mr. Silverberg’s analysis of the trends is lacking, or blinded by his own baggage, and the ways in which his writing reflects aspects of the trends he doesn’t admit to. The importance he clearly places on the awards is interesting, as well, and there’s fruitful discussion about the ways in which the two major awards influence and are influenced by the various trends.
chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.
I’ll loan you the basis for Art Spiegelman. It was fascinating to hear him speak in person, but he seemed terribly afraid and distrusting of his audience. I’ve seen people like that who struck me as probably being fascinating people to talk to if you were introduced to them in a personal way, and who simply don’t like strangers. But Mr. Spiegelman makes a big deal about how nobody can understand him, including friends and family. That said, I’ll certainly go hear him speak again if he turns up.
Sure; I’d probably go hear Mr. Silverberg speak if it was convenient.
I’ll also say that Art Spiegelman has incorporated his unpleasant character into his art; I don’t particularly want him to be likeable, as I’ll never be around him to like him, but I do want him to on occasion produce more brilliant stuff, and the brilliance of some of his most brilliant stuff is dependent on his unpleasant persona.
Thanks,-V.