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lematthew00's review
adventurous
challenging
informative
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.25
lehenry's review against another edition
challenging
dark
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
3.0
imakandiway's review against another edition
emotional
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
nickfourtimes's review against another edition
5.0
1) "'Oh, fine!' Alegra said. 'I love to talk. I want to talk about love. Loving someone---' (an incredible yearning twisted my stomach, rose to block my throat) '---I mean really loving someone---' (the yearning brushed the edge of agony) '---means you are willing to admit the person you love is not what you first fell in love with, not the image you first had; and you must be able to like them still for being as close to that image as they are, and avoid disliking them for being so far away.'"
2) "'What...what is it?' She raised her cool hand to mine. For a moment the light through the milky gem and the pale film of my own webs pearled the screen of her palms. (Details like that. Yes, they are the important things, the points from which we suspend later pain.) A moment later wet fingers closed to the backs of mine."
3) "Gila Monster guts?
Three-quarters of a mile of corridors (much less than on some luxury ocean liners); two engine rooms to power the adjustable treads that carry us over land and sea; a kitchen, cafeteria, electrical room, navigation offices, office offices, tool repair shop, and cetera. With such in its belly, the Gila Monster crawls through the night (at about a hundred fifty k's cruising speed), sniffing along the great cables (courtesy the Global Power Commission) that net the world, web everything to night, dawn to day, and yesterday to morrow."
4) "By the streetlamp half a block down, I saw his hair was still pale as split pine. He could have been a nasty-grimy: very dirty black denim jacket, no shirt beneath; very ripe pair of black jeans---I mean in the dark you could tell. He went barefoot; and the only way you can tell on a dark street someone's been going barefoot for days in New York is to know already. As we reached the corner, he grinned up at me under the streetlamp and shrugged his jacket together over the welts and furrows marring his chest and belly. His eyes were very green. Do you recognize him? If by some failure of information dispersal throughout the worlds and worldlets you haven't, walking beside me beside the Hudson was Hawk the Singer."
5) "Notice that there is no water in any of the tapestries except through the artificial means of a fountain. No rivulet, no seascape in the distance, no dew or rain in any scene. And the fountain is not on a panel which shows blood, signifying that this is not a Christian allegory. Or is, at any rate, only supposed to look like one to the uninitiate. Blood as a Christian symbol must always be accompanied by water: Christ's pierced side, and the rains that followed; the water transubstantiated into blood at the Last Supper is only given its power through the water with which Christ washed the feet of the disciples. No, the women who designed these tapestries wove into them something other than religious mysteries, but, to avoid heresy, gave it a seeming religious cast by the Unicorn with the pierced side: the Christ crucified. Without the sea, the order of rivers, the royalty of waves, there is no true religious dignity. The Jordan, the Ganges, the Euphrates, or the Styx, the river through the Vale of Tempe, or the Boreal streams around Ultima Thule: and there is a lake at Nemi."
6) "Costa told Katina, the girl who served in the café, in two grunted sentences what had happened. She smashed her fingertips against her mouth to stop a sound, kneaded her lips, and stepped back against the whitewashed wall.
'So easy to die,' said an old man, swinging his beads into his fist and silencing them for the first time that day. 'So hard to grieve.'"
7) "Simply? You sit down to write a story. The excitement, the sweep, the wonder of narrative comes over you, and, writing as fast as you can, you try to keep up with it till the tale is told.
The complicated part?
Just try it. You see, what comes as well, along with the narrative wonder, is a lot of doubts, delays, and hesitations. Is it really that wondrous? Is it even a decent sentence? Does it have anything to do with the way you feel about the world? Does it say anything that would at all interest you were you reading it? Where will you find the energy to put down another word? What do you put down now? Narrative becomes a way of negotiating a path through, over, under, and around the whole bewildering, paralyzing, unstoppable succession of halts. The real wonder of narrative is that it can negotiate this obstacle course at all."
2) "'What...what is it?' She raised her cool hand to mine. For a moment the light through the milky gem and the pale film of my own webs pearled the screen of her palms. (Details like that. Yes, they are the important things, the points from which we suspend later pain.) A moment later wet fingers closed to the backs of mine."
3) "Gila Monster guts?
Three-quarters of a mile of corridors (much less than on some luxury ocean liners); two engine rooms to power the adjustable treads that carry us over land and sea; a kitchen, cafeteria, electrical room, navigation offices, office offices, tool repair shop, and cetera. With such in its belly, the Gila Monster crawls through the night (at about a hundred fifty k's cruising speed), sniffing along the great cables (courtesy the Global Power Commission) that net the world, web everything to night, dawn to day, and yesterday to morrow."
4) "By the streetlamp half a block down, I saw his hair was still pale as split pine. He could have been a nasty-grimy: very dirty black denim jacket, no shirt beneath; very ripe pair of black jeans---I mean in the dark you could tell. He went barefoot; and the only way you can tell on a dark street someone's been going barefoot for days in New York is to know already. As we reached the corner, he grinned up at me under the streetlamp and shrugged his jacket together over the welts and furrows marring his chest and belly. His eyes were very green. Do you recognize him? If by some failure of information dispersal throughout the worlds and worldlets you haven't, walking beside me beside the Hudson was Hawk the Singer."
5) "Notice that there is no water in any of the tapestries except through the artificial means of a fountain. No rivulet, no seascape in the distance, no dew or rain in any scene. And the fountain is not on a panel which shows blood, signifying that this is not a Christian allegory. Or is, at any rate, only supposed to look like one to the uninitiate. Blood as a Christian symbol must always be accompanied by water: Christ's pierced side, and the rains that followed; the water transubstantiated into blood at the Last Supper is only given its power through the water with which Christ washed the feet of the disciples. No, the women who designed these tapestries wove into them something other than religious mysteries, but, to avoid heresy, gave it a seeming religious cast by the Unicorn with the pierced side: the Christ crucified. Without the sea, the order of rivers, the royalty of waves, there is no true religious dignity. The Jordan, the Ganges, the Euphrates, or the Styx, the river through the Vale of Tempe, or the Boreal streams around Ultima Thule: and there is a lake at Nemi."
6) "Costa told Katina, the girl who served in the café, in two grunted sentences what had happened. She smashed her fingertips against her mouth to stop a sound, kneaded her lips, and stepped back against the whitewashed wall.
'So easy to die,' said an old man, swinging his beads into his fist and silencing them for the first time that day. 'So hard to grieve.'"
7) "Simply? You sit down to write a story. The excitement, the sweep, the wonder of narrative comes over you, and, writing as fast as you can, you try to keep up with it till the tale is told.
The complicated part?
Just try it. You see, what comes as well, along with the narrative wonder, is a lot of doubts, delays, and hesitations. Is it really that wondrous? Is it even a decent sentence? Does it have anything to do with the way you feel about the world? Does it say anything that would at all interest you were you reading it? Where will you find the energy to put down another word? What do you put down now? Narrative becomes a way of negotiating a path through, over, under, and around the whole bewildering, paralyzing, unstoppable succession of halts. The real wonder of narrative is that it can negotiate this obstacle course at all."
le_lobey's review against another edition
5.0
Some of these stories are utterly transcendent, most are fascinating, and others are less effective.
“Aye, and Gomorrah” and “Dog in a fisherman’s net” were both very affecting pieces.
“Among the blobs” and “prismatica” were both really interesting formal/genre deviations from the others presented.
Other standouts: “Driftglass” “we, in some power’s employ, move on a rigorous line” “time considered as a helix of semiprecious stones”
“Aye, and Gomorrah” and “Dog in a fisherman’s net” were both very affecting pieces.
“Among the blobs” and “prismatica” were both really interesting formal/genre deviations from the others presented.
Other standouts: “Driftglass” “we, in some power’s employ, move on a rigorous line” “time considered as a helix of semiprecious stones”
cameronbcook's review against another edition
I read half and listened to half. Both experiences good!
Delany should be a household name. He is the best science fiction writer I've ever read.
Delany should be a household name. He is the best science fiction writer I've ever read.
mireanthony's review against another edition
adventurous
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
3.5
This is a short story collection. Some of the short stories are very good, some are pretty dull, and the book as a whole lands somewhere in the middle overall. I'm considering gifting a copy of this collection to my dad for Christmas, and I've added another Samuel R. Delany book (Babel-17) to my reading list because of Aye, and Gomorrah.
Here are the stories in this collection I found most interesting and compelling:
Here are the stories in this collection I found most interesting and compelling:
- "The Star Pit". This is longer than I generally prefer in a short story, more of a novella really, but that length was necessary to build a world and a setting that I thought was really interesting and valuable in the larger context of scifi. Focuses on the human cost of space exploration, and does so in a way that resonates with issues of race and sexuality. A good primer for the rest of this collection.
- "Aye, and Gomorrah...". This might be my favorite from this collection. Focuses on issues of desire and sex work, and is framed as a cyclical story that serves to reinforce a sort of dual transience of being a spacer and being genderqueer-- outside the dominant gender norms. Some people would probably find this story transphobic but it really resonated with my own experiences.
- "Driftglass". This is a story about racism, classism and capitalism, and about the human toll of both, but it is also about the experience of continuing to live and find joy amidst it all. Also, it's about people who have been surgically modified to be able to breathe underwater. I think you could easily make a compelling full length novel based on what has been presented in this story.
- "We, In Some Strange Power's Employ, Move on a Rigorous Line". This is about individuality vs society, and it's unusual in my eyes in that it doesn't come down with any certainty on one side or the other. The household of cultists clearly have their problems, fight amongst themselves, are seen as regressive by the main character's coworkers, and yet he maintains some sense of admiration for them that makes it impossible to dismiss them completely.
- "High Weir". This story feels like the prototype for that Stargate SG-1 episode "The Fifth Race", and the similarities there prevent me from digging any deeper into its thematic or metaphorical meanings, but I did really enjoy it.
I definitely enjoyed these enough to want to add this book to my own bookshelf, and I'll probably buy myself a copy at some point. As introductions to authors' works goes, I think short story collections are a good starting point, and I think Delany is covering some important themes in interesting ways that are still resonant in 2022. I first picked up this book because the title spoke to me, and because in looking into what it was about I saw someone describe it as being about displacement, not being able to go home again. There is a quote at the very beginning, after the dedication, which reads:
Aye, there was destruction.
My God! Oh, my God!
And burning. And death and the sounds of death and burning.
Was Sodom destroyed?
Aye, and Gomorrah to six miles around it. The river beneath it boiled in the streets. The mountains vomited rock on the orchards. And no one now can live upon the place.
Oh, my city! What city may I found? Where must now I go to make me a home?
he_slaughtered's review against another edition
adventurous
funny
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
samuel r. delaney’s work is continuously immaginative and alive. somehow he manages to construct whole expansive and culturally rich worlds in far reaching planets and societies to right here on earth in just a few sentences. it’s always so beautiful and exceeds my expectations every time. what all fiction should be like, sci-if or otherwise.