The Ultimate Egoist: Volume I: The Complete Stories of Theodore Sturgeon
Theodore Sturgeon
Language: English
Pages: 408
ISBN: 1556432992
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The Ultimate Egoist, the first volume of The Complete Stories of Theodore Sturgeon, contains the late author's earliest work, written from 1937 to 1940. Although Sturgeon's reach was limited to the lengths of the short story and novelette, his influence was strongly felt by even the most original science fiction stylists, including Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke, and Gene Wolfe, each of whom contributes a laudatory foreword. The more than 40 stories here showcase Sturgeon's masterful knack with clever, O. Henry-ish plot twists, sparkling character development, and almost archetypal, why didn't I think of that? story ideas. Early Sturgeon masterpieces include "It," about the violence done by a creature spontaneously born from garbage and mud, and "Helix the Cat," about an inventor's bizarre encounter with a disembodied soul and the cat that saves it. Sturgeon's unique genius is timelessly entertaining.
1947. Sturgeon himself had a fair amount of experience as a house guest after his parents moved to Scotland while he was at sea in 1937. On shore he stayed with various relatives, family friends, and new friends that he’d met on his travels. The protagonist, Ransome, is a stock Sturgeon character: the glib, utterly self-absorbed male (he usually comes to a bad end). TS to his mother, October 31, 1938: My best stories are those in which I play up and magnify my own weaknesses. Contrary to the
their pickiness and their low wordage rates, but what can I do? It’s the one outfit on which I can count for a steady income. I’ve been getting five per from them alone for going on three months. But after July 15, due to this business, there’ll be no more for at least three weeks unless I can sell some other market this week. Nice, hey? As far as McClure’s is concerned, I can, I am sure, break their jinx. The contact lens notion is brilliant, and I had, as you know, planned to give it to
of years on the bum, flitting purposefully past memories of a home that was gone, and of five or nine ex one-and-onlys … The vagrant and persistent gas fumes didn’t help any. Breathing too much of gas vapor affects you like eating canned heat. There were no ships in sight from where he stood. Over on the port side, about five miles off, there was a little light that danced crazily in the swell, a forty-foot boat out of the yacht basin. Probably after tuna or sailfish, thought Whacker. No justice
stylish open-necked collar together until he began squeaking. Berbelot seemed to be enjoying it. “Don’t kill him, Hamilton,” he said after a bit. “I want to.” I let the script man go. He sank down to the floor, gasping. He was like a scared kid, in more ways than one. It was funny. We let him get his breath. He climbed to his feet, sat down at his desk, and reached out toward a battery of push buttons. Berbelot snatched up a Dow-metal knife and hacked viciously at the chubby hand. It
people get a break like that—having a boarder who is so delightful and so little trouble. Though the initial cost had been high—after all, I’d almost gone nuts!—the upkeep was negligible. Wally never came in drunk, robbed the cash drawer, or brought his friends in. He was never late for meals, nor did he leave dirty socks around. As a roommate he was ideal, and as a friend, he just about had Helix topped. One evening about eight months later I was batting the wind with Wally while I worked. He’d