Dangerous Visions, the revolutionary 1967 science fiction collection put together by Harlan Ellison has in many ways always been my Mt. Everest. It's not the longest book I've never read, but it's perhaps the most challenging one I wanted to read, and one has to be in the mood to be challenged I thought. So, it sat in my collection, wrapped in its handsome Leo and Diane Dillon wrapper, lost for many years in a forgotten box in the back of an inaccessible closet. It rested there unbothered along with its larger 1972 sequel Again, Dangerous Visions.
Much time passed.
Then the immortal Harlan Ellison died.
And suddenly I felt really, really old. The pugnacious and loquacious man who personified youth had fallen as we all must to the rigors of time. A sense of urgency came into my life as never before. If I was ever going to climb Everest it was now before my light too dimmed.
More time passed.
And then to my joy, a new highly readable edition of the vintage collection came to be and not just that, it brought with it, its published sequel, and its other sequel (The Last Dangerous Visions) never published at all. Everest was now tall indeed. As they say, every journey begins with a single step.
Let me get to steppin'!
Anticipate reports from Everest as they seem worthwhile. Or it's also possible I'll be lost on Everest for all time. But at least I'll have climbed it.
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I was fortunate enough to meet and have dinner with Harlan Ellison on his campus visit to my alma mater. We hosted a small reception at our house for him where he sat in the only good chair (and good is relative). He did not disappoint.
ReplyDeleteI'm exceedingly jealous. Despite his flaws, he was one of my real-life heroes.
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