Warm Worlds & Otherwise

I recently read the new biography of Alice Sheldon, whose nom de plume was James Tiptree, Jr., and so I went back and re-read this book. Harlan Ellison once said something about "the healing art of razor blade fiction" and that's what Warm Worlds & Otherwise is -- razor blade fiction. No, my friends, it's just a fact that The Universe is not a friendly place and the long run plans of DNA may not include "mankind." James Tiptree, Jr., knew this, well, and got it across, written in blood. Don't miss this book. **

This is the Tiptree collection which contains the infamous introduction by Robert Silverberg in which he claims that Tiptree was not just a man, but indubitably a man, based on the text herein. Of course, Tiptree wasn't a man, which Silverberg discovered in a personal note from Alice Sheldon to himself, recounted in an afterword to his introduction in this later edition of the collection. Silverberg, it should be noted, is extremely gracious in noting his mistake, saying that Sheldon fooled him--and most everyone--beautifully and "called into question the entire notion of what is 'masculine' and 'feminine' in fiction." While the point is well taken, as Silverberg thanks Sheldon for forcing him to examine his preconceptions once again, I note that Tiptree had good practice at imitating a man long before she began to publish as one, as many women of her generation had to. I would like to think that this is one of the things that has changed; I fear that it isn't.Although Tiptree wrote masterfully about the differences and problems of the sexes (here in probably her best-known story, "The Women Men Don't See"), to me she is at her best when commenting on the general human race (here in stories like "The Last Flight of Dr. Ain" and "On the Last Afternoon"). Not only had Tiptree discovered and was able to relate the differences between the sexes, but she had also found the similarities--that is, what made us "human." And that, to me, is the purpose of all fiction.

I read this in college in the 70's. I passed the tattered copy around to my friends until it literally fell apart. On a magical backpack trip above Yosemite, a friend & I read it outloud to each other by campfire light. I've been looking for it ( & that feeling) for years!