The Hugo Winners Volume One: 1962-1967, redactie: Isaac Asimov
Bespreking: Peter Motte, 1460 woorden
Mijn huidige boek, The Hugo Winners 1963-1967, bevat twee verhalen van Jack Vance: “The Dragon-Masters” en “The Last Castle”.Van “The Dragon-Masters” zouden er maar liefst 3 vertalingen in het NL bestaan, tenzij minstens één van de vertalers met een pseudoniem werkte.De uitgave in de SF-Kwadraten bij Meulenhoff heb ik jaren geleden gelezen, maar ik…
For about a decade I didn’t read any fiction. About 14 years ago a friend recommended me Anathem by Neil Stephenson, and I’ve been back at reading fiction since. Some Culture novels by Banks followed, and I became enamored with science fiction as genre. So I dove into its canon, and the Foundation series became the first thing I read after I gobbled up Iain M. Banks. It became one of my favorite…
Review: The Empress of Salt and Fortune (The Singing Hills Cycle #1) by Nghi Vo
Rating: 4.75🌈
I’m not sure how I came across this incredible author and series. Perhaps it was that amazing cover or the hints of cultural magic mixed with references to strong women within an ancient history fantasy setting in the description. The Hugo award helped.
Doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t prepare a reader for the sheer beauty, the quiet cruelty, and vastness of the world found here. Love.…
The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert / Hugo Weaving as Anthony "Tick" Belrose (Mitzi Del Bra)
Year: 1994
Designer: Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner
In a movie full of flamboyant costumes, this minidress adorned with pink and orange flip-flops definitely stands out for its original materials. It's got a definite 1960s vibe, between the length, the colors, and the "pop art" feel to it. Accessories include matching earrings, knee-high "gladiator" sandals, a cotton-candy-pink wig, and many large rings.
This was the first movie I ever saw Hugo Weaving in, so he wasn't cemented as "Agent Smith" in my mind, as he seems to have been for those who first encountered him in The Matrix. Consequently, I had no trouble shifting to viewing him as Elrond in the LOTR movies.
[image description: A black pony with large rust-brown eyes and a smiling pumpkin on her hip stands on golden and orange fall leaves. Behind her, the dark sky is filled with stars and her flaming orange mane shines brightly against the blues of night. Text reads “24, The Small God, Pumpkin Spice”]
• • • • •
People assume she’s a newcomer, a fad, a frivolous flash in the pan. But she was there when the first pumpkin pies were being baked; she was there when the first colonist cookbook was published, in 1769. She was there when the British raided the rest of the world for flavors they could steal, and while her appearance may be sweet and adorable, her hooves are soaked in the blood of empire, for without conquest, she could never have been born.
But people, unwilling to consider the structure beneath the surface, look at her and see only big eyes, a flowing mane, a coat as soft as silk and as dark as midnight, and they mock her adherents, call them “basic” as if anything could be considered truly basic when it had been built through so many crimes.
Every piece of her was stolen. Every pinch and particle was the subject of a terrible war. The price of cinnamon is slaughter. The fee for nutmeg is subjugation. And now we serve her sacraments with whipped cream and sugar sprinkles, as if both those things had not also been stolen at some point, as if a foamy cloud could somehow clean the blood from those long lashes.
In these modern days, her most common manifestation is blended with sweet cream and coffee—a drink that has many gods of its own, that has sparked even more wars than her cinnamon pungency. But for most of her time, she has been carried in the pie.
Pumpkin pie. The ultimate jewel in the crown of colonialism. Cooking techniques from Europe, spices stolen from India, Asia, and the Middle East, and a vegetable crown taken from the Americas, sliced and mashed and mixed until its wildness is lost, subsumed into custardy blandness, become one with the melting pot.
She’s not a newcomer. And she’s not nice, either, and so few of those who worship her understand, anymore, that she’s not a god of whimsy or basic delights.
She is, now and always, a god of war.
• • • • •
Please join Lee Moyer (Icon) and Seanan McGuire (Story) each week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many tiny divinities:
THE MAN IN THE HIGH CASTLE - Philip K. Dick (1962)
Glad that I finally read this – the first PKD I truly liked. Reading it almost never happened, as after Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said I decided to stop seeking out more Philip K. Dick. But as I’m also slowly trying to read all big classics of scifi, I had to tackle it one day.
The Man in the High Castle got Dick a Hugo award, and is one of the stalwarts of alternative history. It is…
I have been following the Hugo Award scandal the whole time, mostly via my mother, and I know "evil Chinese government censorship" is a whole conspiracy theory model, but also: the Chinese government does have censorship and media standards, and
WorldCon 2023 and the Hugo Awards did take place in China with official support and hype as an event
and the voting statistic numbers could be "one or more mistakes covered up clumsily by multiple people" - they're certainly the latter part
but the impossible statistics are not the scandal.
The scandal is that multiple works were rejected as "ineligible" even though they were very much eligible, including the frontrunner for Best Novel, which we know was eligible because it had just won the Nebula (why it was the frontrunner) which currently has the same standards. Multiple, across multiple categories. That would be a hell of a mistake.
It and two other works rejected are by diaspora Chinese people. (Again, different categories.) That doesn't prove anything, but when people started going "what the hell happened", a pattern is a pattern.
So when it turns out via leaked emails that the English-language members of the committee were indeed feeling the need to check for "anti-China elements" in nominated works
that's not a conspiracy theory and it never was. it is, in fact, more likely that entries were deliberately rejected due to either active or passive censorship, than that someone's fingers slipped five times in the same way during the same process and they decided not to fix any of them.
1968 Book Club first edition of 2001: A Space Odyssey that my uncle gave me. He said he picked it up at a library sale, so it’s got a little wear and discoloration.
In my collection, I like having books that have been used and loved. Books are meant to be read, and each crease and dog-ear and pencil mark and coffee stain show the book’s life journey. Pristine vintage editions are interesting too, but a book that has fulfilled its purpose of being read is always uniquely special.
The front cover has art by Robert McCall, and the back features a still from a pretty iconic scene in the film. I find the design of this jacket really appealing and perfectly in vein with the mod futurism of the film.
I love the movie, which predates the book, but I’ve yet to read it! I know opinion on the film is quite mixed, and even my favorite author (guess who?) lowkey hated it. Personally, I had to watch it a few times to really get a handle on it, but I think it was worth it. Kubrick was of course an amazing filmmaker, and Arthur C. Clarke was one of the best sci-fi storytellers of all time. It’s a once in a century meeting of the most innovative minds, and the film is worth watching just for that.