long with Immodest Proposals, published earlier this year by NESFA Press, one of the finest small presses in the SF field, this omnibus volume completes the set containing all the science fiction of Philip Klass, whose penname of William Tenn signaled, during the two decades from 1946 to 1968, the appearance of the keenest, funniest, most mordant tales in the genre.
The current volume is divided into seven sections: "Here Comes Civilization"; "The Somewhat Heavy Fantastic"; "For the Rent"; "Beating Time"; the short novel A Lamp for Medusa; the essay "On the Fiction in Science Fiction"; and the long novel Of Men and Monsters. Extensive and compelling afterwords by the author follow nearly every story, and a perceptive, partisan essay by George Zebrowski closes the book with a career evaluation of Tenn and his place in the field. Highlights from the more than two dozen pieces include the following.
"Bernie the Faust" chronicles what happens when an interstellar con man trumps his Earthly counterpart—but then is bitten himself. In "Betelgeuse Bridge," snail-like aliens appear as saviors, only to rook mankind. The pros and cons of an intelligent domicile are ingeniously examined in "The House Dutiful."
Tenn's handful of fantasies include such gems as "Mistress Sary," about an odd little girl with weird powers; "The Malted Milk Monster," which recalls Jerome Bixby's "It's a Good Life!"; and the sad sexy fate of the title character in "Everybody Loves Irving Bommer."
The seven stories included in "For the Rent" are all whiz-bang space operas or horrific vignettes, showing immense technical skills but lacking the full punch of Tenn's trademark wry wit. "Confusion Cargo" is perhaps the best, with its wily hero, trapped onboard a mutinying spacecraft and hiding a secret identity.
Tenn's facility with time-travel paradoxes is on display in the next section, including such winners as "The Discovery of Morniel Mathaway," wherein a beatnik painter of small talent learns of improbable future fame. "Me, Myself and I" follows the unlikely chrononaut Gooseneck McCarthy, whose travels rework the universe several times.
A Lamp for Medusa proves to rival the classic de Camp and Pratt "Harold O'Shea" adventures, as it follows one Percy S. Yuss into an alternate Greek mythology. Finally, Of Men and Monsters is a deep and sustained immersion into a future when mankind has been reduced literally to an existence comparable to rats in the walls of giant invading aliens.
A look back at a Swiftian career
William Tenn remains—despite 30 years of subsequent work by other younger, talented writers—the supreme example of Swiftian satire updated for the 20th century and beyond. Fueled by a sharp intelligence, a fierce sense of ethics, a world-weary cosmopolitanism and an abiding affection for mankind despite all its foibles, Tenn also possessed fine literary skills enabling him to get down on paper engagingly circuitous plots, jarring speculations and utterly believable characters, all forming eminently readable stories. In short, he was both timely and timeless, a writer for the ages.
It's hard to choose between the two volumes as to which contains the larger number of classics. True, this volume stalls just a little bit with the section titled "For the Rent." Tenn explains that he was ill-suited temperamentally to his limited career as a grind-'em-out hack, and offers these conventional but still enjoyable romps as proof. But these worthy Planet Tales adventures actually serve as foils to the high-quality work. And as further counterbalance, we get Tenn's only full-length novel, which is an undeniable triumph. Creating a future environment where our prideful race has been relegated to vermin status, Tenn manages to mix adventure with philosophy, despair with exaltation. So vivid is this future that once read, it will be retained with visual acuteness for decades.
Almost as central as the stories are Tenn's frank, piercing, honest afterwords. Taken together, they constitute a mini-autobiography; an examination of what SF does best (especially along with the essay "The Fiction in Science Fiction") and an intimate look into the SF world at the middle of the last century.
Toward the end of Of Men and Monsters, our hero Eric the Eye maintains to his mate that "Man is an animal, Rachel! His duty is to survive." But the wiser Rachel counters with: "Man is more than an animal, Eric. His duty comprehends more than survival. ... [A person can realize] that he has committed a crime. That is a thoroughly human realization. ..."
Tenn profiles our crimes against our better nature, and teaches us while ostensibly only entertaining.
