17,081 Songs

I finally finished ripping my CD collection, a task I’ve been meaning to do for years.  I put it off, time and again, but I finally made up my mind that it had to be done, and when I did, it only took a few weeks.  What I did was set up two old computers to be a ripping factory.  The results were 17,081 songs contained in 125 gigabytes.  I immediately copied them to a USB hard drive and took it to work and backed up the library to my office computer.  I figured after that effort I didn’t want to loose my new digital music library to a crashed or stolen computer.  The question now:  How do I maximize the use of my song collection.

As I write this I keep an iTunes window open with a single long listing of my songs sorted by artist.  My collection represents decades of collecting covering centuries of music history.  One lesson from holding every CD I’ve bought while putting them into the burner is learning how many I’ve forgotten I owned.  On CBS Sunday Morning today they profiled Shelby Lynne, and I checked and found I had six of her CDs, but not the one they talked about that I wanted to hear the most – damn!  Just now I noticed I have four CDs of John Lee Hooker and clicked on Chill Out to play as I type.

Other than just random gazing at my list I have no real idea of what’s in my collection.  I can remember my favorites to a degree, but I’ve discovered its easy to find forgotten favorites, albums I played regularly years ago that I’ve since forgotten I even loved, much less owned.  Can you name all the movies you got excited about during the 1980s?  Susan, my wife, told me to go through all 17,081 and rate them.  Sure thing, Susie.  iTunes tells me I have 48.3 days of 24×7 listening.  I wished iTunes, Windows Media Player, or Firefly Media Server would tell me how many albums I owned.

Since I started this project I’ve been playing music a lot more and loving the rediscovery of old friends, but I’ve also been bummed by how many songs I own that I just don’t dig – not in the least.  Some songs were filler to begin with, but in other cases I guess I’ve just changed.

How To Be My Own Disc Jockey

What I need to do is organize the playing of the best songs and musical genres in a way that educates me about my own collection.  The traditional way to organize playing digital music is playlists, but that assumes you know what you want on your list before you build them.

Another option is shuffle play.  The random jumping between 17,081 songs can lead to some weird song combinations, but it does get me to hear songs I would never try from just memory.  And it can be surprisingly surprising.  “Sleeping in the Devil’s Bed” by Daniel Lanois just started playing.  Hell, I didn’t even know I had a Daniel Lanois CD, but it’s from a soundtrack to movie called Until the End of the World, a film I only vaguely remember.  The next song is “Sunflakes Fall, Snowrays Call” by Janis Ian, which is just as good.  I knew I had several Janis Ian CDs, but never remember even hearing this song, but I’ve played the album several times I know.  The next song is “No Surrender” by Bruce Springsteen, from the Live 1975-85 album.  Again, another song I like but didn’t remember.  Either I have a terrible memory or most music is not very memorable.

So far, I can say that random play succeeds the best to teach me about my own record collection.  However, I just discovered I can’t rate the songs as I hear them because I’m using the Firefly Media Server on a separate computer server to feed them through iTunes, and to rate the songs would require my library being in iTunes on my Vista machine.  This brings up another huge problem for having a digital music library.

Where Do I Keep the Master Library?

Right now my collection is on an old Dell server, ripped and stored under Windows Media Player, but distributed throughout the house by the Firefly Media Server.  I can play songs through iTunes on any machine, or I can play songs through my stereo using a Roku SoundBridge M1001.  I can remotely manage the SoundBridge with VisualMR, so I can use my laptop to select which songs to play on my stereo.  Supposedly, I can use Windows Media Connect to share songs between any Windows Media Player on any of my machines, or use Windows Media Center to distribute songs throughout my house with Windows Media extender devices like the Xbox, but I haven’t figured out how to use them yet, and I don’t own an Xbox.  The Roku maybe an extender, but I haven’t explored that angle either.

I could put a copy of the library on each computer I own, and on my iPods, but what if I decide to delete a song, I’d have to go to each machine and delete the file to keep all the libraries in sync.  That would be messy.  Ditto for adding new songs.  I could buy a 160gb iPod and make it my master library, but that means being tied to iTunes.

I’m thinking about buying a larger hard drive for my main Vista machine and putting the library there and installing Firefly Music Server on the same machine and taking down my extra machine.  Why burn watts on two machines with work that could be done by one?  This would also allow me to backup my library with Mozy.com, which I can restore to my work machine occasionally – so work and home will stay in sync.

Now that I have a master library, I want to clean it up and delete all the songs and albums I don’t like.  And with the master library on one machine I can catalog it in both Windows Media Player and iTunes because I have yet to decide which I like best for browsing songs and making playlists.  And if I ever get a Windows Media Center extender I could browse album covers from my HDTV and play songs on my living room stereo.  Both Windows Media Center and iTunes have the nice cover flow browsing feature.  Let’s hope in the future that cover flow can be expanded to include all the CD jacket data and editorial content.

Another advantage of having a single master library is collecting ratings.  If the files are on the same machine I can rate songs in both iTunes and Windows Media Player.  I have no idea how this information is stored, or whether it migrates well to new computers and new operating system upgrades.

Yet, another advantage to saving my music library on my main home computer is when I buy new songs.  They will be added immediately to the master library.

Where To Play Music?

Most people think the iPod is the sole venue for playing digital music but I don’t.  I maybe an old fuddy-duddy because I don’t like separating myself from the world by plugging the white buds into my ears.  I have nice speakers on my computers at work and home, and I also have a nice stereo system in the den with comfy La-Z-Boys for truly devoted music meditation.  Sure I have iPods to carry around, but strangely, I prefer to listen to audio books on the go.  My wife does like playing music in the car on her commutes, but it’s easy to sync songs to her iPod and play them through the car’s stereo.

I share my music collection with my wife.  We can play music in the den that’s heard well in the kitchen and breakfast room, meaning we can do dishes and groove at the same time.  Eventually I think I might like to pipe my music library into my bedroom too.

Ripping music to MP3 has made it easy to play songs anywhere without the hassle of finding CDs and filing them back afterwards.  The key will be maintaining the master library.  It will be annoying if I delete a hated song one day and then be listening to music the next and that deleted song pop up again somewhere else.  Or conversely, if I buy a song at home but can’t find it on my work computer later.

Buying New Music

Now that I have my nice digital music library and my CDs are all filed alphabetically away, how do I add new music?  Over the past few years I have occasionally bought digital songs that are now trapped in ancient DRMs and stuck on the computers on which they were purchased, and in some cases lost on dead computers.  So no more buying DRM shackled music.

If CDs are about the same price as digital downloads, should I get CDs or files?  I’m tempted to get CDs, but digital downloads are a better deal for the environment.  As long as I keep my master library backed up and migrate it from new computer to new computer digital files should be safe.  If my house burns down I have my backup on Mozy and my work computer.

Yet, it depresses me to think that I’m limited to the sonic quality of 256kbps rips.  With CDs I could re-rip my collection to a new standard in the future, or even rip them to a loss-less format when I have enough main storage.  The Shelby Lynne CD I referred to above is $9.49 as a download and $9.97 as a CD at Amazon.  Which would you buy?  Of course I can listen to it for free on Rhapsody.

I am a subscriber to Rhapsody Subscription Music and I don’t have to buy new music for the most part since I rent.  However, if a CD goes out of print it disappears from Rhapsody.  I have Shelby Lynne CDs that Rhapsody doesn’t offer.  Strangely it seems for a service that offers unlimited plays from an almost unlimited library that you’d think once they offer a song it would never be deleted.  But it appears if it isn’t for sale somewhere it gets dropped by Rhapsody.  That’s why I ripped my large CD collection.  I have many out-of-print CDs that aren’t always on Rhapsody.

If Rhapsody offered everything, and promised to be a business that would last forever, I would have just packed away my CDs without ripping them and lived by Rhapsody alone.  It’s easy to play Rhapsody music from any machine attached to the Internet, and I can send Rhapsody music to my stereo via the SoundBridge, and if I owned a certified player, I could carry it around too.  But right now, Rhapsody is only good for new music – the kind you can buy from Amazon.

I’ve been playing 17,081 songs on shuffle play all afternoon and through the evening and I’m delighted by what it brings me.  Taking the time to rip my music is paying off fast, I should have done it long ago.  It’s like having the most eclectic radio station ever.

Jim

Being the Peacock

It is the male peacock that wears the fancy dress and struts his finery to attract the less flashy lady peahens.  In the animal world it generally appears to be the male that gets all dolled up to catch the female, so why in our species are the females the disciples of Vogue?  With animal courtship the males do all kinds of crazy things to show off because it’s the females who get to make the final decision.  Human females also get to make our final decisions on mating, but it also appears they get to do all the gaudy displaying too?  Or is that true?

Males of our species do show off by making money, showing strength, doing dashing deeds, while only using a modest amount of flashy color and huge tail feathers.  Hell, suits are in by the young men again.  You can’t get less flashy than a suit.  Last night I saw a rock band all wearing black coats, white shirts and dark ties.  Their looks were dull but they were making a big noise to attract women.

In our species it appears that the males are still the ones that show off, but somehow the role of preening was giving to our ladies.  From fashion runways to Vegas shows to Miss America pageants you can see the extremes of female plumage.

I think this biological programming has had a tremendous impact on female behavior and psychology, making women very different from men.  Okay, I can hear all the protests now.  Yes, I know some men love to show off their costuming and some women don’t.  But I think this programming subroutine goes far deeper than outfits.  Women are a thousand times more concerned about their looks then men.  Why is that?

Let me give an example.  Among my lady friends, and I’m mostly talking about women in their fifties, I’m starting to hear the same story repeated independently from all of them that makes me worry.  They all hate to see themselves naked.  One friend said she holds her hand in front of her eyes when she gets out of the shower to shield her vision from the image of her naked body in the mirror.  When she says this I’m thinking I’d loved to see her step out of the shower and towel off, so it’s not that she’s bad looking.  But why has she become so hideous to herself that she won’t look at a mirror until she’s dressed and ready to hide her face in makeup?

If this was an isolated comment I wouldn’t have much evidence for my case, but I hear stories like this over and over again.  We’ve reached an age where my women friends are horrified by their bodies but I’m not, not by mine or theirs.  I still want to look up their dresses and down their blouses to catch whatever glimpses I can.  And another common thing I hear from these women are gripes about men wanting younger “firmer” women.

They seemed obsessed with the word “firmer” too, because they say it with such resentment.  And no matter how much I tell them I’m still physically attracted to women my age and even a bit older they don’t believe it.  They say I’m an oddball and 99% of normal men only want to look at twenty-something women.  Sure we like looking at younger women, but I’ve talked to my fellow boomers, and the consensus is older women can be just as hot.

Women may blame their resentment on men, but I’m starting to wonder if the problem isn’t theirs.  Sure there are men obsessed with sweet young things, but none of my pals are like that.  I think a lot of men have to chase younger women because as they get older the females of their generation stop wanting to be caught, forcing those guys to go further afield to hunt.  But this isn’t the point of my story.  I want to focus on the psychology of being the peacock.

I think both sexes are cursed by their biological programming.  Personally and culturally we’re possessed by the drive to reproduce.  This is understandable from a biological point of view, but why doesn’t the sex drive shut off when the baby making years are over?  When women go through menopause, why don’t they suddenly wake up and think, “Gee, I feel great.  I don’t have to preen anymore for those goddamn males always chasing after me.”  And then relax into a new lifestyle.  Why should women hate their bodies just because the sign “Great Babies Made Here!” gets turned off?

From the male side of things I wished my thoughts weren’t constantly befuddled by my cells urging me to go make babies.  Obviously, the reason why I still want to see fiftyish women get out of the shower is from residual programming to reproduce.  I’m already hearing all those people thinking, “Well men can make babies until they die.”  Just because we can, and just because we have the drive, doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.  Evolution designed us to live long enough to reproduce and then die.  Our brains helped us beat those plans and  we live much longer than evolution planned.  At a certain point in both the lives of men and women we get to an age where babies aren’t wanted.  But the damn baby making programming inside of us doesn’t shut off.

Woman feel angst about losing their younger bodies and men feel angst about not getting laid as often.  It appears that the women who looked the best in youth hate themselves the most while aging.  Of course this is well illustrated by Hollywood starlets pursing plastic surgery till they have faces that look like rigor mortis of death.  The nature of women playing the peacock was well illustrated in an old movie I saw the other night, Mr. Skeffington, with Bette Davis as a beauty obsessed woman constantly courting marriage proposals even after she was married.

I feel sorry for my women friends.  Why can’t they accept wrinkles and sags?  Firm tits and ass are only signs that say, “I Make Babies.”  Why can’t old guys understand that the urge to chase young women is your cells tricking you into fatherhood?  In the end, I think the burden of the peacock syndrome on women is far harder than left-over horniness in men.  I don’t hate my body because I can’t get laid.  Being a peacock when the feathers fall out must be painful and pathetic.

I have a long running argument with one of my lady friends.  She says who we’re attracted to is mental, and I say it’s biological.  Well honey, I think if it’s mental you would be able to rationalize yourself out of the peacock syndrome.

Jim

The Golden Age of Science Fiction is 56, Again

It is so easy to get distracted while writing.  My goal the other night was to focus on what it means to search for sense of wonder books in late middle age, but I got sidetrack from this intent by reminiscing about Clifford Simak’s City.  We science fiction fans often agree that around age 12 is when discovering science fiction is the most exciting.  But should that be so?  And is it true for everyone?  Indeed, it is easy to become jaded as one gets older, as well as becoming better educated, more cynical, sophisticated, and, dare I say it, more discerning.

Does that mean we are destined to outgrow science fiction?  I have to admit that I find it very hard to discover new SF&F to enjoy.  Furthermore, I’ll admit that when I reread some of my favorite books from my golden age of discovery they often fail to bring me back to the good ole days.  The thrill is gone.  And when I do reread books that I still love I’m worried that I’m just wallowing in nostalgia, and not appreciating the story for its own merits.

Is the power of science fiction at its greatest potency when viewed by twelve year olds because they are wild-eyed, full of enthusiasm, and anxious to discover everything exciting about the world, or because children are easily manipulated by the slight-of-hand of fantastic stories?  At 12 our critical x-ray vision isn’t very strong, so we tend to welcome everything with believability.  I know it’s just entertainment, but when I was a kid I wanted to believe in science fiction.  It was my religion.

To play devil’s advocate to my own supposition, I should admit on cross examination that I read with great excitement the Harry Potter novels and the Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy.  There is a clue here.  Those are young adult (YA) novels.  Furthermore, my all-time favorite novels to reread are Robert A. Heinlein’s twelve YA novels.

The mature of the literary world have often sneered that science fiction is crude pulp fiction for adolescents.  I don’t know how mature I am at 56, but I still find excitement in the concept of science fiction, and want it to be an art form for all ages.  Now this could be avoiding adultification on my part, and I may not be alone, because look how successful Harry Potter books have been with my fellow boomers.  Many of the blogs I read about science fiction are written by old guys like myself fondly looking back to their favorite books.

There is a boom in YA fiction, being read by kids and adults.  I know plenty of middle age people who have found a renewed excitement for reading through YA novels.  So, is it the age of the reader, or just the YA subject matter that stir up our minds?  YA writers know how to target their audience with stories that resonate with the teen years.  Science fiction and fantasy, whether marketed as YA or adult fiction strongly appeals to youthful readers.

This finally brings me to the question I want to ask:  If literature can be targeted to the formative years, can it also be targeted to the waning years?  When I first started reading Old Man’s War by John Scalzi I thought, “Hot damn, science fiction for old guys.”  If you’ve read the novel you’ll also probably guess my disappointment in the change of direction it eventually takes.

As a boomer seeing my golden years glow on the horizon, I want those years to be a new golden age of science fiction.  I wonder if there’s a market for sunset science fiction?  Who knows, maybe I have a bad attitude towards aging, but I can’t help but thinking I’ll have 15-30 years of wrinkly freedom.  It won’t be like being young, but it doesn’t have to be all about dying either.

I think the excitement of reading YA fiction is the quality it brings to thinking about the future and exploring what we can be “when we grow up.”  One reason many people turn away from fiction is because growing up turns out to be a dud in relation to our YA fantasies.  Adultification sets in and dreams dissipate with compromising.  One of the tragic beliefs of youth is we’ll have lots of time to pursue our dreams after high school, but college, jobs and marriages kills that dream fast.

If I retire and have 15-30 years of free time, I’m going to have that free time I wanted in my youth.  I might not be fit to do anything, but I shouldn’t give up.  What we need is RA fiction, Retired Adult fiction that inspires us to do something with those years of freedom.  Fishing, golfing and shuffleboard are philosophical lacking, so I want sense of wonder ideas for my elder years.

Hell, maybe J. K. will write a series about a Hogwarts Retirement Home.  Or Victor Appleton II can be resurrected to write about the adventures of a geezer Tom Swift.  However, this time around I want maximum sense of wonder with less fantasy.  I can believe fantasies about a robotic Jeeves becoming a geriatric companion easier than I can believe being downloaded into a cloned body.  I’d love to read more stories about the possibilities of mental rejuvenation.  I’m not against physical overhauls, but so far medicine only seems to produce scary people with rigid faces.

What we need is the idealism of the 1960s for octogenarians.  Let’s see some creative utopian assisted living homes.  And does anyone write erotica for the wrinkled?

Science fiction original sold me the Brooklyn Bridge on Tau Ceti.  It’s easy to fool kids that rocket travel is just around the corner.  This time around I want science fiction writers to really wring their imaginations and bring about another golden age of SF.

Jim

Best Science Fiction Short Stories 2007

It’s that time of year again, when all the annual best of anthologies start showing up.  This year I’ve come across four so far, one of which I’m reading (Hartwell & Cramer), two of which are winging their way from Amazon (Dozois & Strahan), and a fourth is waiting to be shipped (Horton).  There are probably more of these out there, so let me know.  Here are the titles I know about so far:

What’s truly strange is how little overlap there is, with only 12 stories out of 87 getting in more than one book.  This made me feel good about wanting to buy all four volumes, but on the other hand, I wished there were more obvious stand-out stories.  We know that the Ted Chiang and Karen Joy Fowler stories won Nebula awards this year, and  these stories are nominated for the 2008 Hugo Awards:

  • “Memorare” by Gene Wolfe (novella) (HC)
  • “The Cambist and Lord Iron: A Fairytale of Economics” by Daniel Abraham (novelette) (JS)
  • “The Merchant and the Alchemist’s Gate” by Ted Chiang (novelette) (GD, JS) (Nebula winner)
  • “Dark Integers” by Greg Egan (novelette) (RH)
  • “Glory” by Greg Egan (novelette) (GD, JS)
  • “Finisterra” by David Moles (novelette) (GD)
  • “Lost Contact” by Stephen Baxter (short story) (GD, JS)
  • “Tideline” by Elizabeth Bear (short story) (GD)
  • Who’s Afraid of Wolf 359″ by Ken MacLeod (short story) (HC)

Greg Egan and Nancy Kress got in all four best-of-books with multiple stories, and 12 other writers got into more than one volume with one or more stories.

Abraham, Daniel The Cambist and Lord Iron: A Fairy Tale of Economics JS
Asher, Neal Alien Archeology GD
Baker, Kage Plotters and Shooters HC
Baker, Kage Hellfire in Twilight GD
Ballantyne, Tony Aristotle OS HC
Ballantyne, Tony Third Person HC
Barnes, John An Ocean is a Snowflake, Four Billion Miles Away GD, RH
Baxter, Stephen Last Contact GD, JS
Baxter, Stephen No More Stories HC
Beagle, Peter S. The Last and Only, or Mr. Moskowitz Becomes French JS
Bear, Elizabeth Orm the Beautiful JS
Bear, Elizabeth Tideline GD
Benford, Gregory Reasons Not to Publish HC
Benford, Gregory Dark Heaven GD
Bisson, Terry Pirates of the Somali Coast HC
Black, Holly The Coat of Stars JS
Brooke, Keith The Accord GD
Cadigan, Pat Nothing Personal GD
Chiang, Ted The Merchant and the Alchemist’s Gate GD, JS
Daniel, Tony The Valley of the Garden JS
Di Filippo, Paul Wikiworld RH
Egan, Greg Glory GD, JS
Egan, Greg Induction HC
Egan, Greg Dark Integers RH
Egan, Greg Steve Fever GD
Finlay, Charles Coleman An Eye for an Eye RH
Ford, Jeffrey The Dreaming Wind JS
Fowler, Karen Joy Always HC, RH
Gaiman, Neil The Witch’s Headstone JS
Goonan, Kathleen Ann The Bridge HC
Goss, Theodore Singing of Mount Abora JS
Gregory, Daryl Dead Horse Point JS
Hand, Elizabeth Winter’s Wife JS
Hemry, John As You Know, Bob HC
Hitchcock, Robin They Came From the Future HC
Holm, Palle Juul A Blue and Cloudless Sky HC
Irvine, Alex Wizard’s Six JS
Jablokov, Alexander Brain Raid RH
Jones, Gwyneth The Tomb Wife HC
Jones, Gwyneth Saving Tiamaat GD
Kessel, John The Last American HC
Kosmatka, Ted The Prophet of Flores GD, JS
Kowal, Mary Robinette For Solo Cello RH
Kress, Nancy By Fools Like Me JS
Kress, Nancy End Game HC
Kress, Nancy Art of War RH
Kress, Nancy Laws of Survival GD
Laidlaw, Marc An Evening’s Honest Peril HC
Landis, Geoffrey Vectoring RH
Link, Kelly The Constable of Albal JS
MacLeod, Ken Jesus Christ, Reanimator JS, RH
MacLeod, Ken Who’s Afraid of Wolf 359? HC
MacLeod, Ken Lighting Out GD
McCormack, Una Sea Change GD
McDonald, Ian Sanjeev and Robotwallah GD, HC
McDonald, Ian Verthandi’s Ring GD
McIntosh, Will Perfect Violet RH
Moles, David Finisterra GD
Palwick, Susan Sorrel’s Heart JS
Phillips, Holly Three Days of Rain RH
Pratt, Tim Artifice and Intelligence HC, RH
Purdom, Tom The Mists of Time GD
Reed, Robert Night Calls RH
Reed, Robert Roxie GD
Reynolds, Alastair The Sledge-Maker’s Daughter GD
Rickert, M. Holiday JS
Roberson, Chris The Sky is Large and the Earth is Small GD, JS
Rosenbaum, Benjamin & Ackert David Stray GD
Rusch, Kristine Kathryn Craters GD
Sedia, Ekaterina Virus Changes Skin RH
Shunn, William Objective Impermeability in a Closed System HC
Silverberg, Robert Against the Current GD
Singh, Vandana Of Love and Other Monsters GD
Sinisalo, Johanna Baby Doll HC
Skillingstead, Jack Everyone Bleeds Through RH
Stableford, Brian The Immortals of Atlantis GD
Stanchfield, Justin Beyond the Wall GD
Sterling, Bruce Kiosk GD, JS
Sterling, Bruce The Lustration HC
Sterling, Bruce A Plain Tale From Our Hills RH
Stross, Charles Trunk and Disorderly JS
Swanwick, Michael Urdumheim JS
Swanwick, Michael The Skysailor’s Tale GD, RH
Van Pelt, James How Music Begins HC
Van Pelt, James Of Late I Dreamt of Venus GD
Watts, Peter Repeating the Past HC
Wolfe, Gene Memorare HC

The Golden Age of Science Fiction is 56

If the golden age of science fiction is 12, what am I to read at 56?  I still yearn for the same sense of wonder thrills as I did as a kid, but they are much harder to find.  What if I reread the books I loved at 12 now at 56?  Are they the same books even though I’m not the same me?  No, of course not.  I reread one or two books a year, so I know.  I’m listening to City by Clifford Simak, a story I loved as a kid.  I barely remember the flavor of the story, and damn few details.  It’s almost like reading the book for the first time.

City

However, the sense of wonder I get from City in 1965 when I first read it, is much different from 2008, while listening to it now.  There are so many factors at play:

  • The world of 1952 when City was published
  • The knowledge of science fiction by Simak in 1952
  • The knowledge of the science by Simak in 1952
  • The state of the world in 1965
  • The state of science fiction in 1965
  • How many science fiction books I had read by 1965
  • The state of science in 1965
  • Who I was in 1965
  • The state of the world in 2008
  • The state of science fiction in 2008
  • How many science fiction books I had read by 2008
  • The state of science in 2008
  • Who I am in 2008

There are other factors, but these are enough to discuss for now.  In fact, it’s too broad for a blog essay, so I shall narrow it down.  One of City‘s sense of wonder aspects is robots, so let’s focus on how my perception of stories about robots changes over time.

In 1965 my knowledge of robots mainly came from SF movies like The Day the Earth Stood Still, Target Earth and The Jetsons, and the robot stories by Isaac Asimov.  It’s a rather limited view.  I don’t even know if there were any real robots in the world at that time, and if there were they were no more than toys.  And I certainly hadn’t read any histories of literature discussing the antecedents of robots like Frankenstein and The Golem.

When Clifford Simak was writing his robot stories in the 1940s, his only inspiration was probably other science fiction writers and their stories.  Robots were all speculation.  He had the play R.U.R. which coined the term robots, and Metropolis, the classic silent film from Germany, and he had Isaac Asimov, Eando Binder and Lester del Rey, and before the City stories were fixed up for hardback publication, he had the magnificent Jack Williamson story, “With Folded Hands.”  When City came out it won the third International Fantasy Award in 1953.  Other winners were Earth Abides (1951), More than Human (1954) and The Lord of the Rings (1957).  It was a well respected book.

In 2008, City is quaint and it would be very kind to just say the speculation is full of holes, but the story telling is still magical.  I look forward to every moment I can spend with it.  I like Jenkins like I like Godfrey and Charles, two butlers William Powell played in 1930s films.  If I could interview my 1965 self, even though he was a kid in junior high, he probably knew the speculation of the story was silly then.  The quality of the story telling held me then as it does today.  Simak if far from a great writer, and his prose is barely a step up from pulp fiction, but damn, he does have a lot of far out ideas in such a small book.

One of the reasons why The Golden Age of Science Fiction is 12 is because at that age you don’t know much about the world and everything you discover has impact.  Just the concept of building artificial beings is mind blowing.  Of course it’s not much different than wishing I could fly like Superman in terms of reality.  One of the things that has tarnished old science fiction stories is real science.  Robots have a reality in 2008 – yet their reality is far from science fiction then and now, but strangely I think science fiction robots have a better chance of finding their place in the real world than interstellar space travel, aliens or time travel – the other major motifs of early SF.

Science fiction robots have evolved in the years since 1965.  You have the philosophical replicants of Blade Runner, the charm of Commander Data on Star Trek:TNG, the cyborg tenacity of The Terminator, the cuteness of Wall-E, the comic duo of R2-D2 and C-3PO, the threat of the Cylons, the wise robotic aliens of A.I. When I read City today I see Jenkins in relation to all the robots I’ve met since.  He is a simple faithful servant, intelligent, but hardly more than a mechanical Mr. Jeeves.  Of course, if I owned a robot, I’d want a Jenkins.  Owning a Commander Data or even a Rachael from Blade Runner would be a kind of slavery.  Jenkins’ mechanical servitude is acceptable, but that’s a whole other world of speculation.

In 1965 just the concept of an intelligent machine was cool.  The possibilities were endless.  Soon after Jenkins I encountered Mike, the intelligent computer in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, and then HAL in 2001, and the concept of artificial intelligence grew in my mind.  There is a chance I even majored in computers in 1971 because of those stories.  They were a far cry from the IBM 1620 I was programming with punch cards at the time.  Working with real computers taught me the limitations of science fictional computers.

When I read City today, I analyze Simak’s speculation about the future from his vantage of 1952 and earlier.  He pictured atomic power, private planes, helicopters and hydroponic farming causing such a societal paradigm change that cities were dissolved and people chose to live far from one another independently.  While this was going on, Simak imagined the development of robots and the uplifting of dogs.  His speculation of de-urbanization, or re-ruralization seems silly today, but it is elegant speculation.  Simak’s whole imagined future where humans disappear and are forgotten, leaving the Earth to intelligent dogs and robots is quite beautiful.  That holds up.

What my 56-year-old self needs is a 2008 novel about robots that is as ground breaking as City was in 1952.  This wished for novel needs to have the story quality of City so it remains in print until 2060 and later.  And I need to live to be a 109 so I can reread it and evaluate my sense of wonder one last time before I pass into oblivion.

Jim