K-Raelians plus The Dreams Our Stuff Is Made Of: How Science Fiction Conquered the World by Thomas M. Disch, and The Men Who Stare At Goats by Jon Ronson

This entry is part 4 of 72 in the series SF in South Korea

As part of my continuing adventures in figuring out what I want to say in my paper on SF cinema in Korea, this post discusses Raelianism in Korea whilst working through a review of two books on SF and their effects on the world. I’ve just finished reading Jon Ronson’s The Men Who Stare At Goats, kindly recommended to me by my friend and recent WOTF prizewinner, the lovely and talented Ian McHugh. It goes so well with The Dreams Our Stuff Is Made Of: How Science Fiction Conquered the World by Thomas M. Disch — which I finished reading …

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Bikeman: An Epic Poem by Thomas F. Flynn

As a would-be writer of epic poems myself, and a once-avid cyclist to boot, I took an interest in what purported to be an “epic poem” about the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center when the book appeared on the Librarything Early Reviewer Program list of books available for review. After all, a modern “epic poem” in hardback? The last time such a thing appeared was long ago, at least on my radar screen. So I signed up for Bikeman — among other books — and suddenly, I found myself in possession of a copy. (So, yes, disclosure, I …

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Why SF Has Failed to Put Down Roots in Korea, Part I: To Start With, Questions…

This entry is part 3 of 72 in the series SF in South Korea

I had a post I was going to write, about fantasy, SF, and the demonstrations going on in Seoul these days, but I decided to pitch it as an article idea. The editor to whom I pitched it liked the concept, so I’m binning that post to keep the juice for my article. That leaves me with two things to write this summer about SF and Korea. The article on the protests is a theme I’m putting off limits, but the paper on the general failure of the SF genre to take root in Korea in  is something I can, …

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Rainbows End, by Vernor Vinge

Whenever people talk about The Singularity, one reaction I always feel in my gut is, “Okay, describe it.” Of course, by its very definition, the Singularity is [relatively] indescribable, since it’s what is as incomprehensible to our minds as our world is to the mind of a goldfish. In this way, The Singularity is, I suspect, simply a piece of SFnal dogma, or perhaps, holy doctrine is a better word for what it is. We can’t show you it, but we can hint at it, point at it, hope you get it. The Singularity is what makes things go way …

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Where Dead Voices Gather, by Nick Tosches

I have a couple of novels I haven’t reviewed, but I’m going to leave off discussing those till I have my thoughts gathered. For now, I want to write about the book I finished today, which is <i>Where Dead Voices Gather</i>, by Nick Tosches. It’s been a funny week, one of those weeks where whatever you’re into kind of shows up no matter where you look — like when you learn a new word and then hear it used a bunch of times soon after — everyone else either just learned it, like you, or else you were walking around …

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