Today I look at two 1994 stories from the Gardner Dozois-edited anthology The Year's Best Science Fiction, Twelfth Annual Collection. I have been doing this weekly review of science fiction short stories on Wednesdays since October 2018, when I began with an anthology covering the year 1939...and have been gradually making my way forward in time since. I found the stories from back then much more readable, as the authors didn't seem hung up on making a literary statement for themselves as too many by 1994 seem to be doing...I shudder thinking what it's going to be like when I finally catch up to the present time! Case in point: the following two stories, both of which I had an unpleasant time muddling through...
THE MATTER OF SEGGRI by Ursula K. Le Guin
Le Guin had already made a name for herself with her exploration of sexual roles and identity within society, using science fiction as the vehicle. This story is a part of her already established Hainish fictional universe. It consists of an extended study, based on some articles spaced over time, of a peculiar planet on which the women dominate the society, including the arts and sciences, while the men...pampered in childhood...are eventually isolated behind locked doors in "castles", only let out to perform...how should I put it..."stud" duty. The galactic authorities want the society reformed, but change takes time. All right, I figured out this novella early on, and it frankly dragged and I felt the author was trying to "teach" me something instead of telling a story...
YLEM by Eliot Fintushel
This is an annoying stream-of-consciousness short story (thank God it's short) told by a man...or woman...or another man...as their separate identities don't seem to matter. He/she/they are alternately sitting in a run-down house or climbing a mountain or avoiding being shot with poisonous darts from zeppelins or exploring first-hand the origin of the universe at the time of the Big Bang. I'm more than a little bit put off whenever an author gets so hung up on his or her style that they deliberately make it harder for the reader to discern whatever the hell it is they're trying to say, as if they all want to be seen as the next James Joyce...
Next week I continue this series, looking at science fiction from the year 1994 and hoping for some better reviews as well...
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