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37th World Science Fiction Convention, Seacon '79
Page 77
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Seacon. 37th World Science Fiction Convention, Seacon '79 - Page 77. August 23, 1979 - August 27, 1979. Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries. University of Houston Digital Library. Web. March 30, 2020. https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/1984_003/item/482/show/416.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Seacon. (August 23, 1979 - August 27, 1979). 37th World Science Fiction Convention, Seacon '79 - Page 77. Fritz Leiber Science Fiction & Fantasy Convention Flyers & Programs. Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries. Retrieved from https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/1984_003/item/482/show/416

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Seacon, 37th World Science Fiction Convention, Seacon '79 - Page 77, August 23, 1979 - August 27, 1979, Fritz Leiber Science Fiction & Fantasy Convention Flyers & Programs, Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries, accessed March 30, 2020, https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/1984_003/item/482/show/416.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

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Compound Item Description
Title 37th World Science Fiction Convention, Seacon '79
Creator (Local)
  • Seacon
Date August 23, 1979 - August 27, 1979
Description Information regarding the guests of honor for Seacon '79.
Donor Leiber, Fritz; Leiber, Justin
Subject.Topical (LCSH)
  • Science fiction conventions
  • Fantasy fiction
  • Science fiction
Subject.Name (LCNAF)
  • Leiber, Fritz
  • Aldiss, Brian W.
  • Shaw, Bob
Subject.Name (Local)
  • Seacon
Subject.Geographic (TGN)
  • Brighton, England
Genre (AAT)
  • brochures
  • documents (object genre)
Language English
Type (DCMI)
  • Text
Original Item Location ID 1984-003, Box 57, Folder 29
ArchivesSpace URI /repositories/2/archival_objects/5301
Original Collection Fritz Leiber Papers
Digital Collection Fritz Leiber Science Fiction & Fantasy Convention Flyers & Programs
Digital Collection URL http://digital.lib.uh.edu/1984_003
Repository Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries
Repository URL http://info.lib.uh.edu/about/campus-libraries-collections/special-collections
Use and Reproduction Rights Undetermined
File Name index.cpd
Item Description
Title Page 77
Format (IMT)
  • image/jpeg
File Name uhlib_1984_003_b057_f029_068_079.jpg
Transcript sacred tribal ceremonies is the slaughter and devouring of all newborn "Different Ones". The giants of the title are, of course, the crew of the ship, and bearing in mind the intense human chauvinism of the sf of the day it is a tribute to Chandler that most of the reader's sympathy lies with Weema, who dares all to save her male child Shriek, who has been born hairless and with a bulging dome of a head which resembles those of the giants. Shriek is truly a proto-human, for he goes on to kill giants - an act of awesome presumption which results in the annihilation of all his race as the starship plunges into a sun. Chandler's narrative is strongly plotted and perfectly told, embellished with concepts which were fresh in their day, but it is the moods of "Giant Killer" which have haunted me for more than thirty years and have influenced my own writing. The choking claustrophobia of the rats' world, their ultimate helplessness which stems from the inadequacy of their mythological view of the universe in the face of man's scientific rationale, the sense of Life's age-old battles having to be fought at all levels of the macro-micro spectrum. Above all, because we see the crew of the star- ship from an alien viewpoint, the story makes us wonder all over again about the austere compulsions which drive some men to live as wanderers, forever in transit in the metal microcosms we call ships. Andrew Stephenson We tend to value our origins. That first SF book often bears a disproportionately large burden of misplaced affection, simply because it was the first. (Of course, this applies to other fields of human activity, too.) If life followed a smooth development curve, I could designate a single work of SF as the one I value most. Really, it's impossible to do so. Furthermore, this insistence on Britishness is a millstone: "SF" has long been so international that I am forced back to an artificially early time, though I would gladly include the names and works of contemporaries abroad, quite apart from the Brits whose blushes I intend to spare. In The City And The Stars, ArthuT Clarke wrote- one "of the r^trifotessen- tial sense-of-wonder "hard SF' stories. In it we discover themes to which he has since returned, particularly that of the power of rational thought. We are shown an everlasting city, Diaspar: self-renewing amid universal decay, it amounts to a tangible manifestation of changeless physical laws. Only in Diaspar, governed by intellectual forces (the central computer and its almost magical machines) - and in one other nearby oasis of life* where a different kind of mental power rules - has the slow, almost clinical, degeneration been prevented. It seems significant that Clarke's later works appeal so frequently to the thesis that Science can conquer all; for in Diaspar we see its apotheosis. And it is a pity that, from a story with such an essentially human resolution, Clarke progressed to others in which the human element plays a subservient role, as if he preferred to follow Vanamonde, the disembodied pure intellect encountered in City, rather than concern himself with the fates of Diaspar's citizens. So I value this book for two reasons: for the joy that the reading of it brought, at a moment when far worse was around to put me off SF, and at moments since; and for the auctorial warning it offers. IAN WATSON - Barry Bayley Barry Bayley writes metaphysical space opera, packing into short stories or unravelling through longer adventure novels, whole alternative ontologies. How about some stellar freebooters capturing a crystal ball constructed by ancient alien beings - or extradimensional entities - which contains within it the original of our galaxy, ours being merely the macroscopic copy? How about if the cosmos was solid and worlds were simply caves in it? How about if our science is all a looney misconception and the ether actually exists - so that one can sail schooners and windjammers from world to world (not boring old ram-jet spaceships either, but proper sailing ships) - and what's more, what if alchemy were true and the philosopher's stone can be achieved. How about exploring the old adage (is there one?) 'clothes make the man' unto the ultimate persuasive absurdity of sentient suits that control people and are part of a galactic conspiracy by vegetable fibre - tossing in, along the way, cultures who aren't even aware that they have bodies? Bayley is.our Borges, working with the grand: old pulp Trapes of space battFes, groariing' overdrives; the* dense world of The Hub, intrepid captains, gambling satellites, cynical yet idealistic adventurers with pearl- handled lasers - and renewing, revivifying the cosmic ding-dong, notching it up into metaphysics where it belonged all along. Bayley writes a witty, technicolour eccentric experimental philosophy in each new tale. He's what sf is all about at heart: imagining three impossible things before breakfast and making them all come true. And stick together. Since he's getting better all the time, I elect his latest novel Space Winds (sailing ships and alchemy) as one I will certainly reread with joy. At the end of his book Aichemists and GoJd Jacques Sadoul proclaims, "Tomorrow I shall go out and buy an agate mortar.' Well, as of the day before yesterday, I am already writing an sf novel about alchemy . . . FANTASY, AN EARLY OMNI? by James White Just after the Second World War a new and regrettably short-lived British sf magazine hit the newsagents with the impact of a thirty-three years premature OMNI. It was the Walter Gillings edited FANTASY, a beautifully produced mag with restrained, tasteful covers and interior illos, and a list of contributors which included Arthur C. Clarke, the late, great Eric Frank Russell and lots of other mainly local names some of whom made it and some who did not, and all for the price of one shilling! Science-fiction reading in the UK at this time was at subsistence level with the British Reprint Edition of ASTOUNDING all that was available during the war, and the Bergey girls on the covers of THRILLING WONDER STORIES and STARTLING STORIES, which were beginning to come over from the US, causing parental difficulties for innocent young teenagers like myself. So I can well remember buying FANTASY openly, reading it publicly in trolleybuses, and not hiding it under my mattress. And I can remember the kick I got out of reading stories which were set, not in strange, exotic places like the Mojave Desert or San Francisco, but right next door - Eric Frank Russell's Relic, I remember, took place in the Isle of Man! My very first letter of comment was written to the editor of FANTASY, and it was published. As a direct result of this a Belfast sf reader called Walter A. Willis wrote to me, and shortly afterwards his house became the regular meeting place of a fan group which included Walt, George "Charters-Bob Shaw, John Berry and myself. Later Walt Willis was to be generally acclaimed as fandom's greatest wit (although modestly he insists that the fans were only half right), and as for Bob Shaw and James White . . . Wally Gillings, the world may never forgive you for what happened as a result of printing that loc. 77