The Bookian » Philip K. Dick

The Golden Man and Selected Short Stories

Bookian — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 20:58:17 +0000

The hyper real transition to movies from books or short stories, especially short stories by philip k dick, is a constant exercise in tedium ad infinitum. Witness the sarcasm of such resources as The Golden Man by Philip K Dick based on the movies trailer. (arent film trailers supposed to have all the best parts anyway?). But the short story The Golden Man, written by philip k dick in 1954, is just so good, it must be revisited, and often. In short, its the story of a future mutant, Cris Johnson, who doesnt speak. Hear that, Nicholas Cage? Shut up already! Anyway, its not even sure that Cris Johnson is human, really. Hey! Hear that, Nicholas Cage? Not Human! Ok, enough. The story is primarily about the fear of the little blue collar working guy, whom Philip K Dick primarily identified with tire regroovers and television repair men, when confronted with a superior race who can outbreed, out perform, and basically out out the little guy. This, of course, doesnt only threaten the little man, the working man, but the little-minded men.. in this case, ruling members of the military and technocratic elite. Even though Cris isnt human, his mutational powers, brought about by the stupidity of the, bring them back on stage: ruling members of the military and technocratic elite, allow him to out run, out think, and out dodge his enemies. In a stunning recognition of the coming future embodied by The Selfish Gene, PKD makes the character nothing more than an embedded expression of his genetic line. I wont give away the end. But its one of those ten page stories that say so much, an ontological depth of perception and art to which PKD will always be referred. – reviewed by PKD Android

Ubik

Bookian — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 19:56:17 +0000

Sitting in my coffin the other day, had a few minutes of extra half-life time, decided to catch up on re-reading the entire philip k. dick ouevre, and picked up Ubik. Of course, the evil neighborhood kid kept coming by and kicking the tires, disturbing my piece of mind. finally, I got so fed up, unable to concentrate on the great book, that I tried yelling to scare him off. But he kept coming back, coming back, coming back. Now I cant even get out of bed, just sit here mumbling to myself over and over. sometimes i think theres another voice but its probably just that kid. so tired. want to finish the book but no energy left. theres some kind of leak in the roof, moisture has started dripping in and sogging up the book, everytime i try to turn a page it just decays in my fingers. Which im not sure are mine. anyway. If you happen by, please help me out here. that horrible kid just keeps yelling, and kicking, and yelling, and… – reviewed by Voglesgang

Four Novels of the 1960s: The Man in the High Castle , The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch , Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? , Ubik

Bookian — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 19:39:17 +0000

Ecstasy! Jonathan Lethem is channeling philip k. dick in this upcoming volume for the Library of America (yes, it sounds like Voice of America.. and it was started with NEA seed money in 1982.. perhaps to fight the Great Threat of Russian Literature trying to Swamp Americas Patriotic Heritage), but who cares about that. These are four great novels. Particularly Ubik and the Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch. Jonathan Lethem is a lucky guy, kinda like getting your name carved onto the replicas of tombstones of famous people made for tourists in Guyacanal, Uruguay. Walking up steep mountain paths and watching the children drink gasoline in the garbage dumps. Like proximity to God. Or, in the case of Palmer Eldritch, proximity to… whatever that thing is. With the teeth and the eye-slit. We dont usually review books that havent even been printed yet, in case dogs urinate on monuments to the successful sales of the book a billion years in the future on bleak planets surrounded by ghosts. The only downside is this book looks like it will be a hardcover with patriotic American colorstripes on it, and no lurid 1960 watercolors of dementia being zapped with rayguns. Plus 10 for content, but Minus 5 for style, ok, Zaphod? – reviewed by palmer Eldritch