The absolute, unquestionable, definitive and unalterable science fiction canon

Over the past few weeks, prompted by events at the recent Worldcon, the science fiction blogging

There are no politics
in this novel at all. 
(Image via Amazon)

community has been engaged in one of our regularly occurring debates about what is the literary canon of our genre.

There are, of course, interesting and compelling arguments being presented on both sides of this debate. While some people suggest that the genre is a vibrant, ever-evolving, smorgasbord of creativity in which it would be foolish to try and codify a list of great works, other (more reasonable) voices have been pledging their undying fealty to what are obviously the greatest works of science fiction that will ever be written.

Using a methodology that we will not explain — but which is nonetheless unquestionable and scientifically accurate — our panel of experts has meticulously compiled the definitive list of which works that every human being absolutely must read in order to be taken seriously in any discussion of science fiction.

It should be obvious to all that the fact that most of the great works were written by able-bodied straight white men who died decades ago is entirely a coincidence. The questionable political views of some of these authors is likewise immaterial, as all works are obviously separate from their author.

1. O-Zone by Paul Theroux

(Image via Goodreads)

Whitbread Prize-winner Paul Theroux delved into science fiction in 1986 with this apocalyptic tale of radiation and racism in a vast uninhabited area of the Midwest USA. Theroux uses his literary skills to find the redemptive nature of decay and abandonment. The New York Times praised it as a book that “tells us what we already know, but it does not tell us this well, or interestingly, or vividly.” 

2. Mission Earth Volume 2: Black Genesis by L. Ron Hubbard

One of the most famous science fiction authors of the Golden Age, L. Ron Hubbard’s final magnum opus is the 10-volume Mission Earth saga. This second novel is the most iconic of the series, as it sees anti-hero Soltan Gris allying himself with the mafia to undermine Jettero Heller, who is trying to save planet Earth from environmental destruction. Reading this novel really makes you understand why so many enthusiastic fans (apparently all living at the same address) bought Worldcon memberships for no other reason than to nominate L. Ron Hubbard for a Hugo award.

3. The Blindness by Philip Latham

Writing under the pen name Philip Latham, the American astronomer Robert S. Richardson published several iconic science fiction novels such as Five Against Venus and Missing Men of Saturn. But are any of them as well-remembered as The Blindness, his 1946 work in which he depicts the advent of Haley’s Comet’s return in 1987 as a parable for cultural collapse? 

There is no subtext
in this novel. 
(Image via Amazon)

4. Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

This empowerment fantasy about a messianic young person who is the most special person in the history of specialness has absolutely no subtext. Our unmitigated love for Orson Scott Card’s novel should not be questioned. It is a classic that has shaped generations of science fiction fans.

5. Earth Final Conflict: The First Protector by James White

Northern Ireland’s James White is known for empathy-driven big space science fiction tales. In his final novel, he delivered this character study of an alien who lives among humanity for generations. To fully appreciate the richness of this text, readers may find it helpful to re-watch all five seasons of the 1990 syndicated television series Earth Final Conflict. 

6. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Just when we thought that there were absolutely no new ideas to explore in science fiction, Ernest Cline wrote this entirely unique novel. In Ready Player One, readers are introduced to “the Oasis,” a virtual reality world in which people compete to see who can memorize The Goonies better. Better yet, Ready Player One encourages readers to completely ignore any political subtext in the pop culture spoon-fed to us by multimedia conglomerates. No wonder Stephen Spielberg adapted it into a blockbuster!

Fleet of Knives: Pacifism Gets Its Due

Overt pacifism is often given short shrift in science fiction, so it is refreshing to see it represented by

(Image Via Amazon.com)

the House of Reclamation that is the central focus of Gareth Powell’s novel Embers of War and its recently released sequel Fleet of Knives.

The House of Reclamation, which operates like a benevolent version of the French Foreign Legion, accepts all those who wish to leave their pasts behind them in order to serve the greater good. The organization operates a network of rescue ships, and dispatches them to various crises with a humanitarian mission to save lives and provide medical support.

This mission and set-up provide an excellent framework in which to tell engaging and personal stories about characters who are atoning for past crimes. One could imagine Powell continuing to mine this premise for numerous novels, much as James White did with his superb Sector General novels.

Much like the Sector General novels, this series seems to be building and strengthening over time.

One of the aspects of the first book that we enjoyed was the way that the universe bled off the edge of the pages. Only those portions of the world that were directly important to the story were fully explained, but there was clearly enough thought given to the setting that there was room in this universe for many stories.

Many have praised Embers of War and its sequel by comparing them to Firefly. However, we think it’s more apt to compare these novels to a different cult television classic: Babylon 5, Much like J. Michael Straczynski’s masterpiece, these novels are set in the wake of a galaxy wide conflict, explore

"Some time ago, Keffer saw or
thought he saw something in hyperspace,
 a ship of some kind." — Lt. Ivanova
(Image via Babylon5.fandom.com) 

how peace is achieved, and feature elder races and ancient interstellar mysteries. In Fleet of Knives, Powell invites this comparison by directly quoting Babylon 5’s tagline “The Last Best Chance For Peace.”

If the first novel was comparable to the first season of B5, then Fleet of Knives offers the narrative bridge of the second and third seasons in which the premise is reinvented, and true dangers are revealed.

There are shadows in hyperspace, and tensions between more established and newer Human settlements. There’s also the question of who created the Marble Armada and what happened to them. Several of those tantalizing hints receive more focus in Fleet of Knives — though to say too much about this would spoil half of the fun.

The character of Trouble Dog — a sentient warship that resigned from the military — continues to be one of the real highlights of the series. Designed and bred to be efficient and task-focused, Trouble Dog’s personality does not correspond to what we would describe as a neurotypical human, and in this she reminds us somewhat of another recent popular SF creation: Murderbot.

Powell clearly knows the genre inside and out, and this deep knowledge helps the work become more than a sum of its parts.

More problematic is the narrative arc of war criminal turned poet Ona Sudak, which almost serves to undermine her character development in the previous novel. The inconsistency of Sudak’s reform and lack of self-awareness did not sit well with us. She might have better served readers if her story had ended.

That being said, the strong narrative arc, the pacing and engaging prose all add up to one heck of an adventure novel. Given our strong penchant for avoiding sequels on our Hugo ballots, we likely won’t have this work on our 2020 nominations list. However, it is almost guaranteed that we’ll be advocating strongly for this to be recognized in the series category in 2021.

The most obscure Hugo-shortlisted novel

One of the great joys of looking over the 64-year history of the Hugo Awards is discovering classic works of science fiction that might otherwise have been forgotten. Not all of these are spectacular – it seems clear that throughout Hugo history, niche elements amongst fandom have put forward works of marginal value – but most of them are well worth taking the time to track down and read.

Looking over the list of all the nominees, even someone who has delved deeply into the classics of

Second Ending lost in
1962 to Stranger in a
Strange Land.
(Image via Wikipedia)

the genre is likely to stumble across something of which they are unfamiliar. Second Ending by James White? A charming little book once we tracked it down. Edgar Pangborn’s Davy? Flawed, but worth your while. The history of the Hugo awards is littered with hidden gems like these.

What is the most obscure novel ever shortlisted for the Hugo Award?

If we’re basing our definition of obscurity on the metrics provided by the book-related social media site Goodreads, the Hugo-shortlisted novel that has the fewest ratings, reviews, comments or reads is Sylva by French author Jean Bruller. First published in 1960-61, the book was translated from the French by Rita Barisse and nominated for the Hugo in 1963. Although the official Hugo Awards page does not list Rita Barisse in its citation of the book, I would argue she deserves the recognition of being named, just as Ken Liu does for his work on Three-Body Problem.

Bruller published the weird, sexual novel under his nom de guerre Vercors.* It’s a story of a man torn between his love for two women, one of whom is a heroin addict, the other is half-human half-fox. It has not aged well.

But even though that novel has been mentioned by only 53 people on Goodreads, it might still not make Sylva the most obscure novel ever to appear on a Hugo shortlist. More than 200 copies are in various libraries in North America. The lack of Goodreads interest might be because it is more often read by Francophone audiences. Additionally, it was the first non-American, non-UK novel to be on the shortlist, and for 50 years remained the only translated novel to be shortlisted – this has at least in recent years made it appear in numerous articles discussing the Three-Body Problem’s historic Hugo Win in 2015.

The third progress report
of the Worldcon in 1956
lists the nominated works
for the Hugo Awards. 

Another good candidate for the most obscure Hugo shortlisted novel might be Michael P. Kube-McDowell’s The Quiet Pools, which was on the ballot in 1992. This little-remembered work appears on the shelves of 80 Goodreads readers. The conflict, which pits those who plan to explore space against those who want to put all their efforts into improving the Earth, is nicely explored, although a bit overwritten and didactic. But Michael P. Kube-McDowell still has his admirers and fans. And although he hasn’t published a new science fiction novel in almost 20 years, he’s still relatively young (63), tweets occasionally (@alternities), and from what I'm given to understand occasionally active in fandom. This makes it harder to judge The Quiet Pools as a truly obscure shortlisted work.

For our money, the most obscure Hugo shortlisted work is Call Him Dead by Erik Frank Russel. It’s

Remember this classic novel?
It was on the Hugo ballot
in 1956.

reviewed by barely 100 people on Goodreads, has no Wikipedia entry, and has been out of print for most of the past 30 years. Only 84 copies exist in North American libraries, according to Worldcat.org.

It is even omitted from most histories of the Hugo Awards, as many people believe there was no shortlist published in 1956. In fact, the only reference we could find to this work’s appearance on a Hugo shortlist came from reading page 15 of the third progress report of the 1956 Worldcon, which explained that year’s voting process, and listed the nominees.

In fact, a few years ago when Jo Walton** was blogging about previous Hugo novels, her post on the 1956 Hugo Award indicates the lack of a shortlist … and she omits Call Him Dead from her suggested reading list of novels from 1956.

However, the novel was on the ballot, up against more well-known nominees such as Isaac Asimov’s The End Of Eternity, Leigh Brackett’s The Long Tomorrow and Cyril Kornbluth’s Not This August. Heinlein, of course, took home his first Hugo that year for Double Star.

Later reissued as Three To Conquer, this book shows clear influences from Heinlein’s The Puppetmasters in a tale of an alien invasion by stealth. Russel, a noted paranormalist and contributor to various Fortean publications, made his alien mind-controlling parasites more subtle than Heinlein’s, and possibly even more chilling. Despite a level of implicit sexism that is occasionally appalling, Call Him Dead is well worth picking up.

Delving into the long history of the Hugo Awards is a good reminder that in any year there are more worthy works than can ever be honoured with the top prize in science fiction. Obscure often does not mean the same thing as low-quality.

In 70 years, one might hope that readers exploring the Wikipedia list** of Hugos will note that A Closed And Common Orbit or The Algebraist received a nod, track down a copy and discover something wonderful.

* This was literally his nom de guerre, as it was his alias when he was fighting as part of the French resistance during the Second World War. 

** Walton's series on past Hugo Awards is a must-read for any serious science fiction fan, as is her book of reviews "What Makes This Book So Great" 

*** Or the list on whatever system supplants Wikipedia.