I got some email in response to my opaque and casual insinuation in this post that science fiction writer Harlan Ellison has a thin skin. My correspondent wondered whether I might not have been uncharitable in labeling Ellison as sensitive.
I’m not someone with a thorough familiarity with the science fiction writers’ community, other than hanging out at Patrick and Teresa’s joint. And I’ve never met Ellison. Still, I’m under the impression that his volatility is not especially disputed.
In any event, I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t appreciate the man’s writing. Ellison is, in fact, one of the people who inspired me to begin writing. I think I was eleven years old, or twelve, when I first read Ellison’s writing, probably in the prologue to Dangerous Visions. I quite clearly remember thinking, at that early age, “I am going to write as well as Harlan Ellison.”
And then, for the next year or so, I did. But practice hones one’s talent.
Wasn’t it H.E. who mailed a dead gopher to an editor he was mad at? On the other side of the continent? Book-rate?
So who picks up the mail these days at EII?
Does Shep want the job?
Only if he gets to squeeze it to death before handing it around. Tell Harlan he should mail it live. With airholes in the lid if he doesn’t want another editorial go-round.
Matt has been known to play with already-dead-by-someone-else’s-hand mice, however, and his duties as our butler would seem to give him some pre-job training, if only he’d deign to pick up the mail. He’d better watch out; we saw an adoption ad in Kensington for a cat who allegedly would fetch on command.
Jezebella: those who’ve heard of him, yes.
That said, you gotta love the marching with MLK Jr. and the boycotting Arizona during MumbleCon because the state hadn’t ratified the ERA. Definitely our prick.
Oh yeah, he’s One Of Us. (Gooble-gabble!) I do believe we have all three Dangerous Visions anthologies still sitting here somewhere. Back in the day, they were inspiring fun.
Whew, does that sound old and snotty.
I find I have Ellison filed in the same mental drawer as Cockburn. I leqave the questions about which Ellison and which Cockburn to the reader’s judgment.
You are a wicked man, Mr. Clarke.
I think it was sadlyno that did a sci-fi spoof about Glenn Reynolds and transhumanism, ending with the line “I have no mouth and I must hehindeed”.
This is the sort of immortality all writers strive for.
That would be the esteemed Professor Edroso.
Forget about A Boy And His Dog? For pity’s sake, why? The film was the best thing Don Johnson ever did, and I always regarded the ending as pro-canine rather than misogynistic.
The Zeitgeist passed HE by some years ago, and age has not been kind to him. He was one of my gods, about 25 years ago. Now he’s an object lesson in what happens when charm congeals into petulance and wounded entitlement. It’s sad more than anything else.
But something good might come of it. The outrage is fueling a new resolve in fannish quarters to stop tolerating the dismissive, disrespectful, often blatantly harrassing treatment of girls and women in SF-dom.
It’s remarkable that “SF-dom,” while in some senses living in the future, is still so much living in the past.
Here it is, some 40 years after the birth of the second wave of feminism, and the fannish quarters of SF-dom are finally noticing how sexist that realm tends to be.
I revise my previous assertion that Ellison is a “bit of a prick.” He has evolved into a complete & total prick.