"Bruce Sterling - The Spearhead of Cognition" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sterling Bruce)"best" stories must necessarily aspire.
In a footnote to the Borges essay Lem makes the odd claim that "As soon as nobody assents to it, a philosophy becomes automatically fantastic literature." Lem's literature *is* philosophy; to veer from the path of reason for the sake of mere sensation is fraudulent. American SF, therefore, is a tissue of frauds, and its practicioners fools at best, but mostly snake- oil salesmen. Lem's stern puritanism, however, leaves him at sea when it comes to the work of Philip K. Dick: "A Visionary Among the Charlatans." Lem's mind was clearly blown by reading Dick, and he struggles to find some underlying weltanschauung that would reduce Dick's ontological raving to a coherent floor-plan. It's a doomed effort, full of condescension and confusion, like a ballet-master analyzing James Brown. Fiction is written to charm, to entertain, to enlighten, to convey cultural values, to analyze life and manners and morals and the nature of the human heart. The stuff Stanislaw Lem writes, however, is created to burn mental holes with pitiless coherent light. How can one do this and still produce a product resembling "literature?" Lem tried novels. Novels, alas, look odd without genuine characters in them. The collections _A Perfect Vacuum_ and _Imaginary Magnitudes_ are Lem's masterworks. The first contains book reviews, the second, introductions to various learned tomes. The "books" discussed or reviewed do not actually exist, and have archly humorous titles, like "Necrobes" by "Cezary Strzybisz." But here Lem has found literary structures--not "stories"--but assemblages of prose, familiar and comfortable to the reader. file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswij...%20Sterling%20-%20The%20Spearhead%20of%20Cognition.txt (5 of 6)20-2-2006 23:36:57 file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswijk/Mijn%20doc.../spaar/Bruce%20Sterling%20-%20The%20Spearhead%20of%20Cognition.txt Of course, it takes a certain aridity of taste to read a book composed of "introductions," traditionally a kind of flaky appetizer before the main course. But it's worth it for the author's sense of freedom, his manifest delight in finally ridding himself of that thorny fictive thicket that stands between him and his Grail. These are charming pieces, witty, ingenious, highly thought-provoking, utterly devoid of human interest. People will be reading these |
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