t's very rare for an author with only two books published (and a third in the queue) to inspire so much fervor among his readers that unofficial Web pages devoted to his work spring up. Yet such is the case with the young U.K. writer China Miéville, whose second book, Perdido Street Station, recently won the prestigious Arthur C. Clarke Award.
Miéville's blend of gothic fantasy and science fiction has captivated readers waiting desperately for new hybrid forms to emerge from the sometimes stultifying genre landscape, and one such fan named G. Black now seeks to share his enthusiasm via Runagate Rampant. This page takes its name from a broadsheet of political agitation described in Perdido, and while its contents do not foment rebellion as did its namesake, they still offer plenty of solid information on Miéville and his writings.
Here the interested reader can learn about Miéville's upcoming novel, The Scar, while also reading a biography of the author, interviews with him and reviews of his earlier works. Tidbits of news relating to Miéville's career, such as his contribution of a foreword to the collected stories of M. John Harrison, are also proferred. While the graphics are minimal and persistent popup ads a bit of an annoyance, this site is essential for tracking one of the brightest luminaries in the field. While not quite as rich or dense as the Official Jonathan Carroll Homepage, G. Black's helpful tribute is much appreciated.
— Paul Di Filippo
Site of the Week—November 5, 2001
he "mission statement" at Rocketship Video, penned by the pseudonymous "Mr. Wonderful," is a nostalgia-drenched paean to a vanished era and its products, namely the pre-Star Wars science-fiction output of Hollywood's sleazy dream factories—all those gloriously gimcracky, sense-of-wonder-expanding movies whose only home after brief runs at B-movie houses was the boob tube in the wee hours of the night or on Saturday mornings. Plainly damaged in a good way by repeated childhood exposures to these films, Mr. Wonderful has now made it his quest to get videotaped copies of them into the hands of as many fellow fanatics as possible.
Dissemination of these pop culture icons is the sole noble purpose of his site. Here you may first rummage through informed reviews of such features as The Brain from Planet Arous or Mars Needs Women. Then you may proceed to the in-site store and order discounted copies of these tapes for your own enjoyment. But don't rush out of Rocketship Video without examining other departments. You'll be able to read onscreen in clear reproductions entire issues of old comics from the "space craze" era of the early 1950s. Print them off and you have a cheap reproduction of a rare collectible!
According to Mr. Wonderful's timeline of Rocketship Cinema, history ended in 1977 with the advent of George Lucas. But that sure leaves a large Golden Age to explore, rich with lunar cat women, queens of blood and interstellar teenagers.
— Paul Di Filippo
Site of the Week—October 29, 2001
othing rouses the blood like an acid-dipped, utopian manifesto. Literary movements thrive on witty, partisan, clear-headed, blue-sky pronouncements by artistic and social visionaries. Without a flag to rally 'round, creators all too often drift apart into loneliness and frustration. United under a single banner, they often revolutionize the world. The literature of the fantastic—science fiction, fantasy, horror and slipstream—has seen its own share of such movements, from Damon Knight's Futurians in the 1940s on down to the cyberpunks of the 1980s. But since this latter tide ebbed, no new currents have really arisen to wash away the stale cliches of the marketplace. At least until now.
Fantastic Metropolis, the brainchild of editor, agitator, propagandist and primo ranter Gabe Chouinard, blares out a classic—and classy—call to arms. Chouinard is intent on purging the genres mentioned above of their worst dross, the crappiest products, while substituting—and fostering—the high-quality literature now buried beneath lesser junk. To that end, Chouinard's site features incendiary essays (in this issue Bruce Sterling on Viridan design, Michael Moorcock on the glory of hallucinogens and Warren Ellis on reforming comics, among others); short fiction pieces exemplifying no particular platform other than the artist's unique conception of beauty; reviews of worthwhile books; and interviews with various admirable creators. Additionally, over 250 links take you to likely co-conspirators, and a Forum on Delphi allows feedback and discussion.
If you demand more from your literature than the equivalent of a snooze in a warm tub, you'll want to position yourself on the barricades at Fantastic Metropolis.
— Paul Di Filippo
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