Ursula Le Guin reviews Jeanette Winterson and notes, “It’s odd to find characters in a science-fiction novel repeatedly announcing that they hate science fiction. I can only suppose that Jeanette Winterson is trying to keep her credits as a ‘literary’ writer even as she openly commits genre. Surely she’s noticed that everybody is writing science fiction now? Formerly deep-dyed realists are producing novels so full of the tropes and fixtures and plotlines of science fiction that only the snarling tricephalic dogs who guard the Canon of Literature can tell the difference. I certainly can’t. Why bother? I am bothered, though, by the curious ingratitude of authors who exploit a common fund of imagery while pretending to have nothing to do with the fellow-authors who created it and left it open to all who want to use it. A little return generosity would hardly come amiss.”
On a personal note, I heart both tricephalic dogs and the word “tricephalic.” That word kind of reminds me of how I recently heard C. S. Lewis’s “liar, lunatic, Lord” thing referred to as a “false trichotomy.” Holy crap, I can’t wait until the next time I can work “false trichotomy” into a conversation. Unfortunately, that will probably not be for approximately 17.8 years.
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