What happens when science fiction and poetry and art supersede their commingle? A lot. A denigrable botch. The avant garde. Or Brian W. Aldiss. A master of wayward crafts.
On this collection are short stories that appeared in magazines and anthologies such as The Year 2000, London Magazine, Galaxy and Nova I. Arrangement is done in such a way that, where possible, there is (even the slightest) links between one story and the next.
Mixing British English and American English is always disregarded or frowned upon, but an instant of its manifestation in the collection might be more in a way of inter-cultural appreciation/expression. on The Day We Embarked for Cythera . . . , Brian displays his wordsmithing abilities. Here, he comes up with the paradox of imprecision—where word sequence utterly contradicts meaning. The speaker’s time-sense gets to be so awry that they negate what they did (or rightly put, said) in one breath. The setting seems to have been derived from Titian’s The Concert due to Portinari wearing a red jacket, or the lack of music in Monet’s Le Dejeuner sur l’herbe (The Picnic), who influenced a controversial and visionary artist as Aldiss himself, Edouard Manet. Grotesquely enough, Brian incorporates from both, just like Manet! After this tale, one can only adore Brian.
Some words used were not available in the current dictionary version. Confluence might have been the ADD answer to The Devil’s Dictionary from quipster Ambrose Bierce. The stories are engaging enough to make one forget why 85% of science fiction has been removed from their science fiction; and it is always a delight when his philosophizing starts with characters, who have been set as great conversationalists.
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Always an amusing, experimental take on his writing and language use other than the ever witty and informative quips, celebrating everything Aldiss; film, art, poetry, and general perversion. Either from describing a generous of flesh madonna painting—or beautiful women with corrupt natures.