| Article: 4522
From: [email protected] (William M. Briggs)
Newsgroups: alt.books.reviews
Subject: Worst Science Fiction Novel Ever
Date: 10 Aug 1994 17:01:21 GMT
Organization: Cornell University
Sender: [email protected] (Verified)
THE WORST SCIENCE FICTION NOVEL EVER
(c) William M. Briggs, 1994
Of course, with a title such as this, I had better be able to prove it.
After all, hundreds of books are written in the genre each year. Thousands
exist to pick from. And who's to say another, more awful book than the one
I'm about to describe, will appear and usurp the uncoveted title of "Worst
Science Fiction Novel Ever"?
These caveats withstanding, however, my faith is strong. In fact, I am
so absolutely sure that I'm correct in my choice, that I'm willing to risk
the title "worst ever". More on this later.
Many aficionados of science-fiction were weaned, not with short stories
and books, but with TV. So it was with me. I started with the original
�Star Trek�, others perhaps with �Space 1999.� The youth of today will
have to make due with �Deep Space Nine� or �Submarine Show� (whatever the
name is). These shows eased us into the classics, such as �Foundation� or
�Stranger in a Strange Land.� If you were lucky. Unlucky neophytes
wandered into a L. Ron Hubbard treatise or some pulp boiler, complete with
front cover fanged monsters menacing beautiful large-breasted women.
Once these innocents, these hapless souls, enter the morass of
disagreeable pages they are lost forever to science fiction. Nothing will
ever convince them to reenter the fold. Perhaps it is our duty, then, to
purge the field of ill-conceived and poorly executed works?
This supposes that one is able to judge the intrinsic merit of
the text. Modern critics claim that it cannot be done. They may be
right. But this are academic to our subject: what does watching TV
have to do with learning to read science fiction? In this case,
everything.
Walter Koening played the lovable and overly proud Russian navigator of
the Starship Enterprise in the original �Star Trek.� He appeared in the
�Star Trek� movies. He also wrote a book. Perhaps he felt a inward pull,
a conviction that led him to convey a profound message. Or, like William
Shatner, it may be that he was trying to cash in on the series and his
personal success and make a buck. You be the judge.
The title: �Buck Alice And The Actor Robot� (1988, Guild Press). The
cover (truthfully, as you will discover) announces it will take you "where
no sane man has gone before." I found this treasure on the shelves of our
local grocery store (yes, grocery store) and for the remaindered price of
ten cents, I thought I'd give it a whirl. Walter�s picture is on the cover
so there can be no mistake that this is indeed Chekov. On the back there
is even a blurb from Spock Nemoy himself, logical as always, as the only
praise he could give was to say �Walter has written a book...�. This could
only mean that he (attempted to) read the thing.
My mere words would fail to give the proper emphasis, the feel, or mood,
that is so critical to the opening of a novel. It is here that the author
must grab hold quickly and convincingly, enticing the reader to travel
forward through the pages. I then quote from page two, the protagonist
Joshua Chaplin's musings about his toes (I found that it helps to read
these passages aloud).
-----------------
"Joshua Wiggled his toes. The four smaller ones had really very
little to say. To be sure, there was a symmetry in the arc they
formed that was rendered with subtlety and taste, like a quartet of
doughty pillars steeped and graded for harmony of thought and action.
Reassuring in its way but at a sacrifice, a sense of restraint; the
subjugation of the individual for the common good: conformity. All in
all, good architecture but not great art.
"On the other hand, there was the big toe. THE BIG TOE. No humble
petitioner, a craggy tower---intense, feverish, excessive. Not only above
but beyond the crowd. Proud, insolent, a testimony to personal commitment.
The nail---jagged, splintered, uncompromising; a pioneer. A tuft of
hair-like fire in the desert---stark, defiant, liberated. The
superstructure itself, a thousand planes and textures, the face of the
people, and yet, free-forming, spontaneous, beauty through truth, the soul
of the artist bared."
-----------------
Anyone who's got this much to say about a big toe, must certainly have
more powerful things to write about the human condition. Let's see.
The plot centers around the destruction and inevitable salvation of
the human race. A stock plot, to be sure, but Shakespeare made due with less.
For reasons I'm not entirely comfortable describing, an alien race---the
Milliginians---come to earth and wipe out all people who happen to be above
ground. Our hero Joshua escapes this cruel fate in the following passage
where he is first tricked by some precocious youngsters into climbing down
a sewer and 'rescuing' a lost boy who isn�t really there.
-----------------
"Without so much as a backward glance, Joshua ripped off a nearby manhole
cover...(and) climbed down twenty feet beneath the street into the dank
underworld of alligators and prophylactics."
-----------------
When Joshua managed to free himself several days later (the
sewer was six whole feet deep), he discovered most of humanity had bit
the you-know-what, literally: "Joshua looked about him and decided he
was frightened. 'Where was everybody and where had all the white dust
come from?'"
Stray groups of humans left alive soon started finding each other,
including the ill-fated Cathleen and Eric. Eric and Cathleen had struggled
towards the (and there�s always one of these) new human settlement "fending
against all manner of trap and snare with the additional inconvenience of
Eric's hair lice and for the last seventy-two hours, Cathleen's first
menses." But, they finally made it and celebrated by having sex.
"Afterwards Eric rolled over on his back exposing, in the process, the soul
of his left foot to a sharp sting and almost immediately thereafter died of
snake bite. Cathleen made several stabs at writing an ironic poem
commemorating the whole ordeal but, in the end, settled for becoming
pregnant." Ah, youth.
We soon meet Isobel, ten, possessing pancake jowls that hang from her
cheeks, inside of which are---I kid you not---secret pockets. No
explanation (well, no logical explanation) is given for these protuberances
but it did give Isobel the odd habit of screaming daily, precisely at
three. At the close of chapter two we are given hints at her future
importance. "Isobel unfolded all the creases in her cheeks...and gave
birth to a whole new dimension in cacophony.
'EEEAHAHAHAHOHOHOOOOWAWAUGUGG- GGGGYIYIYIYIIIII,' said the future mother of
the human race." We should only hope that the mother of the human race
would have talents such as these.
There also exists a roving band of folk who, upon discovering
the end of the world decide to "Africanize" their names. Hence,
Morris Leverne Tate became Mobawamba. Arnold became Arnoldumbo.
Louella, Louellalulu; Celeste, Celestealulu; Sam, Samatoba. Raymon
and Damon kept their original handles because they were "homosexual
twin brothers (who explained) that additional syllables wouldn't go
with their self-conceived images." Maytag changed to Maytagagawa
because he said "'Glicki-glicki' (and) rarely said anything else."
The reader is left to discover for themself just why they did this odd
thing, but it did lead to new and exciting dimensions in dialogue as
this next passage demonstrates.
"'MOBAWAMBA, Mo-ba-wam-ba, da lordy ob da jumbo, thas who!'" proclaimed
Mobawamba nee Tate, explaining to the world how he was now lord of the
jungle. Other Africanisms: "Sheeeet man, this am what ah call Sunday noon
in da mibble of da week." ; "I am da lordy ob da jumbo an everthing is as
sweety as sweety potatoey pie." I have never been to Africa, so it may be
that this is an accurate representation of a local dialect.
Before learning to mumble and become jungle lord, Mobawamba
had other aspirations. Many chapters later we are led through a
touching retelling of his desires as a youth. "'I'm going to be...I'm
going to be...a...Chiropractor!' 'A Doctor.' The word spread through
the dirty tenements (where Morris lived) like the gush from an open
hydrant. It swept away old condoms and broken wine bottles and the
stuffing from torn, discarded sofas." Powerful words, I guess.
Meanwhile, our hero has still not found the main group of humans, now
labeled the "New Hope Settlement", and is plagued with self doubts. Things
are not going well at New Hope either. Buck Alice (the title's namesake
and a science fiction writer) "got caught in an animal trap of his own
invention and hung upside down for nine hours...in full view of the entire
settlement." Buck's neighbor "one hungry day" was dragged off and
"thoroughly chewed by a big bear. (Another) neighbor ran to Buck and
begged the use of some heavy stones to divert the animal. Buck, who was
building a rock garden and had by then learned his lesson, responded as if
born to the Pathfinder cloth and said, 'tough shit.'" Apparently, Buck had
cornered the market on heavy stones, a valuable post-apocalyptic commodity
(don�t ask about the Pathfinder cloth).
Buck's real name was Stanizlas Pulsutski and the new name was
a joining of Buck Rodgers and Alice from Wonderland. One wonders if
this character's real name is paean to the great Stanislaw Lem? But
I, for one, quickly think not.
All was not gloom and doom. Major Hank Hank (retired) introduced the
group to orgies. These orgies were to be done "in the spirit of capitalism
and private enterprise" as a means to repopulate the desolate Earth. Poor
old Hank Hank was unable to join in on the fun because of the "history of
the high picket fence (and) the result of his inability to clear it." But
he would make his way around the camp grounds "shaking hands, slapping
backs and uttering words of encouragement like 'well done' and 'atta boy'."
Isobel (of the future-mother-of-the-human-race-fame) was too young to
participate, so she ran around the camp insanely "waving her blouse in time
to a mad little ditty about budding bosoms." And "in anticipation of her
impending puberty, warm kisses were generously bestowed on Isobel's
forehead and other places" (emphasis !). This comes dauntingly close to
child pornography, but we are quickly informed that Isobel was allowed no
naughtiness and she stood "abandoned and alone with only bitter tears and
her now slightly smaller 32A-sized breasts for company."
The supreme conquering race of Milliginians were having their own
problems. It seems that they died when staying on Earth for too long.
This, naturally, upset the Milliginian populace who were bent on
colonizing. Tempers flared at the Miliginian invasion conference and
"scientists who had vociferously supported the 'invincibility' theory of
their Earth-stationed species were openly bumped and jostled outside
staterooms." Milliginian politics are indeed hostile!
A philosopher (and you can tell by the words he uses),
Glogmor, captured their thoughts with "Only natives of Earth can
survive on Earth. We are not natives of Earth; therefore we cannot
survive on Earth."
Their scientists, assumably the unbruised ones, soon
discovered the cause of untimely deaths: the Earth's atmospheric
electricity. It was shorting out their internal organs. "'Praise to
the wise new chief scientist for finding the cause,' rejoiced the
assembled idolaters."
For pulse pounding excitement, stray Milliginian ships harie the two
groups of surviving humans (New Hope and New African). "The sound of one
hundred thousand little girls catching their breath while applying one hand
to their mouths in a kind of general recrimination against all that isn't
starched and frilly, accompanied the appearance of the Swoop Craft and its
gasping turbo rockets." The ersatz African tribe fend of the attackers
through chanting and hiding. The New Hope group falls to squabbling
amongst themselves: who will be the leader?
Meanwhile Joshua does battle with an International Harvester
tractor---actual tractorial battle. With cries of "up yours!" and
"remember the Alamo" Joshua struggles with the machine. He loses and is
exhausted. "'Slurp,' came the captious comment from the shallow contents
of the gasoline tank. The taciturn tractor, although an acknowledgedly
poor conversationalist, had succeeded in scoring the last word."
Late in the book we meet (finally) Actor-Robot, the only
hyphenated character. He had "been an actor who played a robot for
twelve years on a television series and who...had gotten his
identities confused and had come to believe that he was a robot with
an almost human talent for acting." (or writing). His speech is even
littered with "click-whirls", "clanks", and "sputter-coughs".
Actor-Robot is one of three factions who are grappling for power in
New Hope. I can't spoil the fun by telling you wins, but this
scintillating passage takes place after one faction takes over and
tries a new breeding program:
---------------------
�'Take off your clothes.'
'No.'
'Take off your clothes.'
'You don't have a neck.'
'What?'
'You don't have a neck and you always carry that case and you speak
funny.'
'I don't...'
'I ain't going to do it with somebody who does all those things.'
'I have a neck.'
'You do not.'
'I do.'
'You do not.'
'I do.'
'Where?'
'Where everyone has one.'
'Point to it...I still don't see it. Make it come out.'
'There.'
'Where?'
'Can't you see it now?'
'Is that all there is? I ain't going to do it with somebody with such a
little neck.'
'My neck isn't little.'
'Then I'm not going to do it with you because of what my
mother told me.'
'She told you...?'
'Never trust anybody who hunches his shoulders.'
'Why?'
'He's hiding something.'
'I'm not hiding anything.'
'Then you've got a little neck.'
'MY NECK ISN'T LITTLE!'
'Prove it.'
'Huh?'
'Take off your shirt.'
'Take off my shirt?'
'So I can see your neck.'
'No.' ...
In time it got worse.�
--------------------
Much worse. (I swear the above passage is taken directly from
the book with no modification.)
Joshua, after his defeat, had turned chalk white, suffered messianic
delusions, and was captured by the Milliginians. He did not go easily, and
when the evil guards laid hands on him this happened: "'Cackle-growl,
cackle-growl' went his buttocks but ironic as it may seem (the guards) did
not notice." Don't feel that Joshua was treated badly---witness this scene:
---------------------
�'We like you,' said the first of his jailers.
'We really do,' reassured the second.
'Have a good time,' tossed in a third.
'Don't get overheated,' cautioned a fourth.
'Or fall down,' worried a fifth.�
--------------------
In fact, life downright improved for our hero. Because of his capture,
Joshua stars in his first sex scene as this unmodified passage details.
---------------------
�How could he have overlooked her stomach---her belly, her tummy, her
tum-tum---how could he have missed that the first time around? He had an
almost overpowering urge to bury his face in it and wrap it around his
ears. She kept coming. 'She has no will, no choice, her body is making
her come to me...like little Italian women who hate American G.I.'s but
love their candy bars? No, no...because...Yes! Because although her body
does compel her, Loinine wants to come, wants me, wants me to hold her, to
protect her---to do anything I wish with her. Closer still. My God, those
breasts, that tummy, so near. And now the thighs. The deep of the thighs,
the feel of that against me, Jesus! What, still more? Some yet
undiscovered ultimate wonder more than the breasts and the tummy and the
thighs? Some final ultimate wonder...oh yes, OH YES! (ellipsis original)�
---------------------
Joshua is soon led to realize that a friendly Milliginian
wants to help him. He demands to know why.
---------------------
�'Because...'
'Because what?'
'Just because...'
'Just because what?'
'Just because...because.'...
'No. Why are you willing to help us? Why are you willing to kill your
own people.'
'My business.'
'No.'
'My business, my business, my business!!!'�
----------------------
It gets rather nasty after this with the alien taunting Joshua
with cries of "masturbator!" He denies this. "Oh yes, YOU, you
MASTURBATOR, you SELF-MANIPULATOR, you AUTO-EROTIC, you...you
PLAYER-WITH-YOURSELFER!!!" Despite this minor altercation, the alien
still agrees to help free Earth.
At New Hope there is murder, strife, sex, and pantomime
(really). The African tribe eventually meets up with them. Isobel
finally has sex and Joshua ascends to a higher plane. The human race
goes on. But what have I left out in this brief summary? What
abhorations are left undiscovered? Many.
I didn't get to Buck Alice's speech mannerisms, which
typically read like "(H8mt-t-5elcc2) human beings! Human beings that
look (7j3g66) scary enough to be aliens!"---speech literally
punctuated by random alpha-numeric characters. No mention was made of
Milliginian weaponry: "apex gain zenith laser bang-bangs." No
justification was given for plot---which is illusory at best.
This is not a comic book---it was written in a deadly serious tone.
Koenig says "if the characters in this story appear to be a trifle out of
kilter, it is because my brain has long been postured at an acrobatic angle
with the medulla oblongata flailing precariously in the very thin air and
the cerebral cortex perilously close to scraping the cement. Or is it the
other way around?"
I could have reviewed this book in the typical manner, brief synopsis
with a critique of method. It would not have worked. This book is so
appallingly bad, so lacking in structure and coherence, criminal in its
abuse of the English language, that a standard criticism would have been
meaningless. Hence the liberal use of quoted passages. I would like to
have included twice as many---the few I have provided fail to give to
proper feel (agony) one has through an entire sitting.
Do not believe, however, I have carefully selected quotes by a
method designed to show the book in the worst light. At random (and
my wife will certify this) I give you: "In defense of her position,
she merely elaborated on it and gently parted her thighs. Just like
that, Joshua transcended five thousand years of human racism. He
lowered himself onto her and experienced the unendurable ecstasy of a
prepubescent being bathed by a libidinous young aunt in a tub of water."
Back to my bet. I would be willing to let an independent
panel of judges rate all comers. Worst one wins. If any judge even
gets through a candidate book at the first sitting, it's disqualified.
Like Monty Python�s World War II killer joke, no human could sit
through this one and live. The pronouncement of these judges will be
final and I'm utterly certain the �Buck Alice And The Actor-Robot�
will forever remain the "Worst Science Fiction Novel Ever."
============================================================
ADVANCED PRAISE for William M. Briggs� �Life Sucks In The Middle Of The
Night�
�Truly Hilarious!!!� ---Matt�s wife.
�I loved it!� ---Matt�s first son.
�The funniest thing I ever read!� ---Matt�s second son.
�Best short-story of the decade!!!!!� --- Humbly Anonymous
Ask for this story from your publisher today!
matt briggs
[email protected]
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