I started reading *Planet of Adventure* by *Jack Vance*. It feels weird to read Science Fiction written in the sixties. There are four novels in this book. The first, *City of the Chosch*, is © 1968.
The style reminds me a bit of *Roger Zelazny*. The story is a long string of events that seem to have no hold over my soul. I feel detached; I care not. Like an intellectual exercise, like a movie with interesting elements: backgrounds, costumes, and yet, soulless. The cuts are too regular, the scenes are too long, character development is lacking – it sounds harsher than it is, because I’m trying to describe the subtle factors that disturb me. I’m not sure whether this effect is due to the age of the books.
After reading these books, I will have to read a more recent piece by *Jack Vance*. To see how he has evolved.
I remember reading *Marion Zimmer Bradley* books as a teenager. They had a totally different effect on me. I felt upset, dislocated – unnerved as a young man realizing what adults do, what it means to be an adult in our society. How social pressure affects you, how sexual values are subtly ingrained in our social fabric.
It was weird at the time, and thinking back, I cannot help but shake my head in wonder. I think I read *The Mists of Avalon* by *Marion Zimmer Bradley* when I was about twelve. I was moved, but today it seems to me as if I was far too young.
Like my best friend’s daughter, who knows how to read, but still doesn’t quite understand the stories she’s reading. I feel like watching animated puppets wondering about the lives of men.
Those Darkover novels by *Marion Zimmer Bradley* were sexually charged. I remember feeling bad about being a man. And I also remember one evening I asked my father, whether men do in fact think about sex as often as I had read. He paused. Then he said: Probably.
I remember I wrote about this before, searched for it, and found the Arthurian Romance page. Hehe.
#Books