Brian Aldiss / Брайан Олдисс - Собрание сочинений
Годы выпуска: 1955-2015 г.
Автор: Aldiss Brian / Олдисс Брайан
Брайан Олдисс (Brian Aldiss) Родился 18 августа 1925 года в Ист-Дареме (графство Норфолк, Англия).
Английский писатель. Его многочисленные сочинения включают критические исследования, эссеистику, рассказы, а также получившие высокую оценку романы мейнстрима, но главные свои силы он сосредоточил на научной фантастике. В отличие от многих своих коллег, Олдисс подходит к научной фантастике с гуманитарных позиций, сосредоточивая внимание на характерах и темах более, чем на технических достижениях, проявляя редкую в этой области писательскую самостоятельность и предпочитая затасканным рецептам рискованные творческие эксперименты. Удостоен многих почетных премий и считается мастером научной фантастики мирового уровня.
К концу 1950-х годов, подобно яркому метеору рассыпая словесные блестки, Олдисс ворвался в мир научной фантастики. Свидетельством этого стали сборник рассказов «Space, Time and Nathaniel» (1957) первый его научно-фантастический роман «Без остановки» («Non-Stop», 1958), вышедший в США под названием «Звездный корабль» («Starship»), и последовавшие за ним сборники рассказов «The Canopy of Time» (1959) и «No Time Like Tomorrow» (1959).
В 1962 Олдисс публикует роман «Теплица» («Hothouse»), получивший в США название «Долгие сумерки Земли» («The Long Afternoon of Earth»). Атмосфера мрачной красоты и тревожной поэтичности мира, которому так и не удалось покорить Вселенную, напоминает первый роман писателя. За эту книгу Олдисс был удостоен в 1962 премии Hugo, она остается классическим вариантом возможного далекого будущего нашей планеты.
Во второй половине 1960-х годов Олдисс становится одним из лидеров английской «новой волны» — связанного с журналом «New Worlds» литературного течения, ставившего целью литературный эксперимент в рамках жанра научной фантастики. Провоцируя споры и дискуссии, Олдисс печатает все более новаторскую прозу — повесть «Слюнное дерево» («The Saliva Tree», 1966), получивший премию Nebula, и роман «Отчет о вероятности А» («Report on Probability A», 1968), где приемы французского «антиромана» введены в сюрреалистически-загадочное повествование. За ними последовала книга «Босиком в голове» («Barefoot in the Head: A European Fantasia», 1969), рисующая последствия войны в Европе, где оружием стали психоделические наркотики. Это повествование, стилистику которого определяет игра слов, заставляющая вспомнить «Поминки по Финнегану» Джеймса Джойса, признано экстравагантным шедевром автора.
По мнению критиков, занимающихся научной фантастикой, к числу лучших романов 1970-х годов принадлежит «Малайсийский гобелен» («The Malacia Tapestry», 1976) Олдисса – это, окрашенное лиризмом фэнтези с научной подоплекой считается некоторыми читателями (и мной, в том числе - NickolaevSergei) и критиками лучшим произведением Олдисса.
В 1980 Олдисс напечатал «Moreau's Other Island», являющийся переделкой «Острова доктора Моро» Герберта Уэллса. Но самым значительным его произведением в жанре НФ стала получившая множество откликов трилогия о Гелликонии. Действие входящих в нее романов «Весна Гелликонии» («Helliconia Spring», 1982), «Лето Гелликонии» («Helliconia Summer», 1983) и «Зима Гелликонии» («Helliconia Winter», 1985) происходит на планете, расположенной в двойной звездной системе. Год Гелликонии равен 2592 земным, а времена года длятся веками в земном исчислении. Экстремальные климатические условия определяют взлет и падение цивилизаций, биологию и взаимоотношения обитателей планеты, в числе которых человеческие существа и фагоры — представители негуманоидной расы. Это самая масштабная попытка автора убедить всех, что научная фантастика — серьезная литература.
02 Helliconia Summer / Лето Гелликонии 1983, fb2, ISBN: 0-224-01848-5, Jonathan Cape
03 Helliconia Winter / Зима Гелликонии 1985, fb2, ISBN: 0-224-01847-7, Jonathan Cape
Helliconia / Гелликония 2010, fb2, ISBN: 978-0-575-08615-9; 2011, epub, ISBN: 978-0-575-08616-6
03 A Rude Awakening 1978, fb2, ISBN: 0-297-77448-4, Weidenfeld & Nicolson
The Horatio Stubbs Trilogy 2012, epub, ISBN: 9780007490493, HarperCollins
02 Supertoys When Winter Comes / Суперигрушки с приходом зимы 2001, fb2
03 Supertoys in Other Seasons / Суперигрушки в другие времена года 2001, fb2
Supertoys Trilogy 2014, epub, ISBN: 9780007580477, HarperCollins
02 Forgotten Life 1988, fb2; 2012, epub, ISBN: 978-0-00-746115-8, HarperCollins
03 Remembrance Day 1993, fb2 (!есть ошибки); 2012, epub, ISBN: 978-0-00-746117-2, HarperCollins
04 Somewhere East of Life 1994, fb2
Headless / Без головы 1994, fb2
The Old Mythology / Старый миф 2001, fb2
III / ИИИ 2001, fb2
Beef / Говядина 2001, fb2
Marvels of Utopia / Чудеса Утопии 2001, fb2
A Whiter Mars / Самый белый Марс 1995, fb2
The Interpreter (= Bow Down to Nul; X for Exploitation) / Переводчик 1961, fb2
The Primal Urge (= Minor Operation) 1961, fb2
Hothouse (= The Long Afternoon of Earth) / Теплица (= Долгие сумерки Земли; Перед закатом Земли; Мир-оранжерея) 1962, fb2; 2008, epub, ISBN: 978-0-14-191874-7, Penguin Books
Greybeard / Седая Борода 1965, fb2; 2012 epub, ISBN: 978-1-61756-766-7, E-Reads
The Dark Light Years / Градгродд (= На белой полосе) 1964, fb2
Earthworks / Всё созданное Землёй 1965, fb2
Cryptozoic! (= An Age) / Сад времени 1969, epub, Avon
Report on Probability A / Доклад о Вероятности Эй 2015, epub, ISBN: 978-1-5040-1032-0, Open Road Integrated Media
Barefoot in the Head / Босиком в голове 1979, fb2, ISBN: 0-586-04988-6, Panther Granada Publishing
Frankenstein Unbound / Освобожденный Франкенштейн 2000, epub, ISBN: 978-0-7551-0069-9, House of Stratus
Eighty-Minute Hour 2013, pdf, ISBN: 978-0·00-748244-3, The Friday Project
The Malacia Tapestry / Малайсийский гобелен 1976, fb2/epub; 2015, epub, ISBN: 978-1-5040-1033-7, Open Road Integrated Media
Brothers of the Head 2012, epub, ISBN: 9780007482054, HarperCollins
Enemies of the System 1978, fb2; 2015, epub, ISBN: 978-1-5040-1034-4, Open Road Integrated Media
An Island Called Moreau (= Moreau's Other Island) 2015, ISBN: 978-1-5040-1029-0, Open Road Integrated Media
Dracula Unbound 2015, ISBN: 978-1-5040-1037-5, Open Road Integrated Media
White Mars 1999, fb2, ISBN: 0-316-85243-0, Little, Brown UK (with Roger Penrose)
Jocasta 2014, epub, ISBN: 9780007482153, HarperCollins
HARM 2007, epub, ISBN: 978-0-345-50037-3, Del Rey / Ballantine
Comfort Zone 2013, pdf, ISBN: 978-0-00-748248-1, The Friday Project (не фантастика)
Finches of Mars / Птицы Марса 2015, ISBN: 978-1-5040-0589-0, Open Road Integrated Media
Повести и рассказы:
There Is a Tide / В потопе времени 1956, fb2
Let's Be Frank / Да здравствует Фрэнк! 1957, fb2
Ten-Storey Jigsaw (= Ten-Story Jigsaw) 1958, fb2
Poor Little Warrior! / Бедный маленький вояка! (= Бедный маленький воин, Бедный солдатик!) 1958, fb2
But Who Can Replace a Man? / Кто может заменить человека? 1958, fb2
Intangibles, Inc. 1959, fb2
Neanderthal Planet (= A Touch of Neanderthal) / Неандертальская планета 1960, fb2
Danger: Religion! (= Matrix) / Осторожно: Религия! (= Осторожно: Сутаны!) 1962, fb2
In The Arena 1963, fb2
Man on Bridge 1964, fb2
Jungle Substitute 1964, fb2
Scarfe's World 1965, fb2
Man In His Time / Человек в своем времени (= Время человека) 1965, fb2
The Saliva Tree / Слюнное дерево 1965, fb2
The Night That All Time Broke Out 1967, fb2
A Taste for Dostoevsky 1967, fb2
Full Sun 1967, fb2
Total Environment 1968, fb2
The Ergot Show 1972, fb2
As for Our Fatal Continuity ... 1972, fb2
Manuscript Found in a Police State 1972, fb2
Castle Scene with Penitents 1973, fb2
The Young Soldier's Horoscope 1973, fb2
Woman in Sunlight with Mandoline 1973, fb2
Serpent Burning on an Altar 1973, fb2
Live? Our Computers Will Do That for Us 1974, fb2
A Space for Reflection 1976, fb2
My Lady of the Psychiatric Sorrows 1977, fb2
The Skeleton 1981, fb2
Door Slams in Fourth World 1982, fb2
Becoming the Full Butterfly / Стать полной бабочкой 1995, fb2
Dark Society / Тёмное сообщество (= Мрачное сообщество) 1996, fb2
Death, Shit, Love, Transfiguration 1997, fb2
The Pause Button / Кнопка «Пауза» 1997, fb2
Apogee Again / Апогей 1999, fb2
Nothing in Life is Ever Enough / Ничто не лишне в жизни этой... 1999, fb2
Cognitive Ability and the Light Bulb / Когнитивная способность и электрическая лампочка 2000, fb2
Steppenpferd 2000, fb2
Tomorrow's Yesterdays 2000, fb2
A Matter of Mathematics / Вопрос математики 2001, fb2
Galaxy Zee / Галактика Зет 2001, fb2
Three Types of Solitude / Три вида одиночества 2001, fb2
Sunlight 2002, fb2
Tralee Of Young Man 2002, fb2
The Man and a Man with His Mule 2002, fb2
Aboard the Beatitude 2002, fb2
Tarzan of the Alps 2004, fb2
Pipeline 2005, fb2
Four Ladies of the Apocalypse 2007, fb2
Remembrance DayCHAPTER ONE
Professor Hengist Morton Embry was at the wheel, gliding along through Fort Lauderdale, pointing out the sights to his English visitor.
'This is the place if you want to eat fish. Absolutely first rate. I was there two - three nights ago, with Bobby Strawson and her crowd. Try the dolphin. Not the mammal, the fish. Go upstairs for better service. There's a waitress without a bra, and they serve a good Australian Shiraz.'
Gordon Levine was impressed. He would not have expected such information, so crisply delivered, from an English professor of Stochastic Sociology - even if there was such a thing - in an English town. Embry had facts spilling from his fingertips.
Fort Lauderdale slid by, malls, slummy bits, houses of the wealthy situated on well-tended canals. Levine was paying his first visit to Florida, and liking it. The month was March, the temperature was warm. He had already taken a swim in the hotel pool and exchanged a few words with the influential Bobby Strawson, organizer of the ASSA conference. He was impressed by the air of efficiency and glamour exuded by la Strawson. Equally, he was impressed by the charisma of this important professor, who had taken time out to show a stranger the town.
Embry was the sort of scholar referred to as outgoing, though Levine had glimpsed a more thoughtful person beneath the surface.
He had already given Levine some insights into other members of the ASSA, the American Stochastic Sociology Association.
Embry was an untidy man, moderately massive, given to large ties which hung over one shoulder of his cotton jacket like the tongues of wolfhounds. Academically, he was considered brilliant; yet he could schedule a neat eight-stream conference in a matter of moments, totting up all the scholars involved, friend and foe, like columns of figures. So why was this paragon accepting a sabbatical year in England at the .'Vnglia University of Norwich, opening a new department? This was the question Levine put to his companion as they surveyed Fort Lauderdale.
'This mansion with the laburnums we're coming to, that's the Florida home of Jeff Stackpine, the Stackpine Trucks man. You think I'm side-tracking my career trajectory by taking off for a year? I don't read it that way. The US needs a breathing space from me. I can do wonderful things in England. They'll name the department after me.' He ground to a belated halt at a red. 'Traffic lights always see me coming. When did I last get a green? It's nature's way of telling me to slow down, I guess.
'Now we're heading for Mount Lauderdale. Have you heard of .Mount Lauderdale? It's the highest point in the city, snow on it in the winter. Coaches lose their way and have to be dragged out.'
Levine expressed surprise. But, just as the Americans had their own views of what English weather was like, he had his views on the extremes of the American climate.
They turned into a less elegant road and were passing the Everglades Motel, faced with fake logs. The sign was supported by two fibreglass alligators.
There you see the real unreal America, Gordy,' said Embry, gesturing. The wish to get on, the wish to get off, the longing to have you on, the longing to have it off. See how one of those gators is female - mammal female, with boobs and blonde hair? It represents some sort of displacement in time as well as space. You clear the everglades, then you fake 'em to get 'em back. Consider the diversity of mentalities in these so-called United States, the sheer diversity' of mentalities. Some of us are living, or attempting to live, in the next century, and face up to the demographic conundrums ahead. Others - don't construe this as an ethnic remark in any way, Gordy, but some of us are still living and thinking last century, and the centuries before that, way back to primitive times, when tribes first wandered into North America. He knocked significantly at his forehead.
As Embry exchanged an unscholarly word with a driver proceeding in the opposite direction, Levine said, by way of agreement, 'I saw in a recent poll that fifty-five percent of the population believe the sun goes round the earth, rather than vice versa.'
Embry shot Levine a glance, half-smiling, one eyebrow crooked. 'You mean the other way round, surely? The earth going round the sun?'
'Fifty-five per cent believe it's the other way about. Maybe it was sixty-five.'
'You mean the sun going round the earth?'
'That's what fifty-five per cent believe.'
Embry gave a snort and concentrated on the traffic ahead. Levine saw a muscle in his cheek working, one of the muscles he used for talking; maybe it never rested, even when no speech was forthcoming.
Levine experienced a pang of doubt, sudden as toothache. Could it be that Hengist Morton Embry, founder, president, of the ASSA, was himself one of that fifty-five per cent? Or sixty-five? It couldn't be. Could it?
'Astronomy was never a subject I specialized in,' Embry said. 'But I do know that one American in seven carries a gun in his or her car.'
Levine wanted to explain to him that you did not have to go to university to learn that the earth went round the sun, taking a year to make a complete orbit, because this was one of the known facts you imbibed with your mother's elderberry wine, if not her milk. That there was a whole raft of things, a skein, a web, a map, a safety net, you absorbed like your native language itself, if you were normal, by the time you made your first date, and that that safety net was an indispensable component of- well, of Western culture. Yet here was this professor of a distinguished Illinois university - a whole lot of them managed to get down to Florida in March - who appeared to have doubts regarding a cardinal fact known to ancient Greeks. Levine had on his safety belt in the Toyota; but in the other world, that great nexus of circumstance we call life, there was no safety belt. He was sitting next to an eminent academic who believed the sun was in orbit about the earth.
'Right, Gordy,' Embry said, 'here's Mount Lauderdale coming up.'
He gestured grandly and chuckled. The car was heading up a slight incline. There were trees on either side of the road, expensive properties, a neat waterway, and the slight rise in the road.
'Mount Lauderdale. How d'you like it? All of eighteen feet above sea level. We're a great country for making mountains out of molehills.'
Embry chuckled again. 'Just kidding you before, Gordy. Exercising your British sense of humour . . . We'd best head back to the conference.'
Embry was a Happy American. It was easy to appear Happy. It was patriotic to be Happy. It was also good business to be Happy. Good business and patriotism went together, and their lubricant was the kind of good humour in which Professor Embry specialized.
Returning to the conference, he drove Levine past The Fronds, a gigantic shopping mall built on adventurous Hnes, with undulating facades and interior waterfalls. It had been standing half a year, and was due to be pulled down, Embry said, in eighteen months. The carpark beside it was full of cars. Embry took it in with a gesture.
. . .
The Malacia TapestryBook One
Mountebanks in an Urban Landscape
Smoke was drifting through my high window, obscuring the light.
Something was added to the usual aromas of Stary Most. Among the flavours of fresh-cut timber, spices, cooking, gutters, and the incense from the corner wizard, Throat Dark, floated the smell of wood-smoke. Perhaps the sawdust-seller had set fire to his load again.
Going to my casement, I looked down into the street, which was more crowded than usual for this hour of day. The gongfermors and their carts had disappeared, but the Street of the Wood Carvers was jostling with early traffic, including among its habitual denizens a number of porters, beggars, and general hangers-on; they were doing their best either to impede or to further the progress of six burly orientals, all wearing turbans, all accompanied by lizard-boys bearing canopies over them — the latter intended as much to provide distinction as shade, since the summer sun had little force as yet.
The smoke was rising from the sweepings of an ash-merchant, busily burning the street's rubbish. One good noseful of it and I withdrew my head.
The orientals had probably disembarked from a trireme newly arrived. From my attic, between roofs, its furled sails could be glimpsed alongside Satsuma, only a couple of alleys distant.
I pulled on my blue ankle-boots, made from genuine marshbags skin; the black pair was in pawn and likely to remain so for a while. Then I went to greet the day.
As I went down the creaking stair, I met my friend de Lambant climbing up to meet me, his head lowered as if compulsively counting the steps. We greeted each other.
'Have you eaten, Perian?'
'Why, I've been up for hours doing nothing else,' I said, as we made our way down. 'A veritable banquet at Truna's, with pigeon pie merely one of the attractions.'
'Have you eaten, Perian?'
'Today not, if you refuse to believe in pigeon pie. And you?'
'I found a muffin lying idle on a baker's tray as I made my way here.'
'There's a ship in. Shall we have a look at it on our way to Kemperer's?'
'If you think it holds any advantage. My horoscope isn't profitable today. There's women in it, but not just yet apparently. Saturn is proving difficult, while all the entrails are against me.'
'I'm too hard-up even to get my amulet blessed by Throat Dark.'
'It's marvellous not to be troubled by money.'
We strolled along in good humour. His doublet, I thought, was not a shade of green to be greatly excited about; it made him look too much the player. Yet Guy de Lambant was a handsome fellow enough. He had a dark, quick eye and eyebrows as sharp and witty as his tongue could be. He was sturdily built, and walked with quite a swagger when he remembered to do so. As an actor he was effective, it had to be admitted, although he lacked my dedication. His character was all one could wish for in a friend: amusing, idle, vain and dissolute, ready for any mischief. The two of us were always cheerful when together, as many ladies of Malacia would vouch.
'Kemperer might give us a breakfast snack, even if there's no work.'
'That depends on his temper,' de Lambant said. 'And that depends on La Singla and how she has been behaving herself.'
To which I made no answer. There was some slight jealousy between us concerning Kemperer's wife. Pozzi Kemperer was the great impresario, one of the best in Malacia. Both de Lambant and
I had been in his company for the better part of two years; our present lack of employment was nothing new.
On the quayside, a swarm of men were in action, mostly working bare-chested and barefoot, heaving on ropes, tugging winches, hauling boxes. The trireme was being unloaded. Various onlookers were delighted to inform us that the vessel had come up the River Toi from Six Lagoons, trading from the West. The optimists thought it might carry statuary, the pessimists that it might bring plague.
As we arrived, customs officials in tricorne-hats were marching off the vessel. They would have been searching for forbidden goods, in particular any new thing which might upset the mellow flow of existence in Malacia; although I could only approve their mission, they were a poor, mothy collection, despite their hats and uniforms, one man limping, one half-blind, and a third, judging by appearances, lame, blind and drunk into the bargain.
Guy and I had watched such scenes since we were children. Boats arriving from the East were a better spectacle than those from the West, since they often carried exotic animals and black female slaves. As I was turning away, not unprompted by the rumbling of my stomach, I noted a strange old figure hopping up and down on the deck of the trireme.
His body was cut into pieces by the yards, but in a moment he turned and came down the gang-plank, carrying a box under one arm. He was stooped and white of hair, while something about his dress suggested to me that he was a foreigner — though he was not one of the mariners; indeed, I believed I had seen him about Malacia before. He wore a tattered fur jacket, despite the heat of the day. What took me was the mixture of delight and caution on his whiskery countenance; I tried setting my face in the same expression. He made off smartly into Stary Most and was lost to sight. The city brimmed with crazy characters.
Several carriages were drawn up along the Satsuma. As de Lambant and I made off we were hailed from one of them. The carriage door opened, and there was my sister Katarina, smiling a sweet smile of welcome.
We embraced each other warmly. Her carriage was one of the shabbiest there, the Mantegan arms peeling on the coachwork. She had married into a ruined family; yet she herself was as neat as ever, her long, dark hair pinned severely back, the contours of her face soft.
'You're both looking very idle,' she said.
'That's part nature, part artifice,' said de Lambant. 'Our brains are quite active — or mine is. I can't speak for your poor brother.'
'My stomach's active. What brings you here, Katarina?'
She smiled in a sad fashion and gazed down at the cobblestones.
'Idleness also, you might say. I came to see the captain of the vessel to find out if there was word from Volpato, but he has no letters for me.'
Volpato was her husband — more often absent than present and, when present, generally withdrawn. Both de Lambant and I made consoling noises.
'There will be another ship soon,' I said.
'My soothsayer misled me. So I'm going to the cathedral to pray. Will you join me?'
'Our Maker this morning is Kemperer, sweet sister,' I said. 'And he will make or break us. Go and act as our Minerva. I'll come and visit you at the castle soon.'
I said it lightly meaning to reassure her.
She returned me a concerned look. 'Don't forget, then. I went to see Father last evening and played chess with him.'
'I wonder he had time for chess, burrowing among his old tomes! A Disquisition on the Convergences — or is it Congruities or Divergencies'? — for I never seem to remember — Between the High Religion and the Natural Religion and Mithraism and the Bishop's Nostrils!'
'Don't make fun of your father, Perian,' Katarina said gently, as she climbed back into her carriage. 'His work is quite important.'
I spread my hands eloquently, tilting my head to one side to show pity and resignation.
'I love the old boy, I know his work is important. I'm just tired of being lectured by him.'
As de Lambant and I walked along the quay in the direction of the Bucintoro, he said, 'Your sister in her dove-grey dress — really quite fetching in a sober way… I must visit her in her lonely castle one of these fine evenings, though you are disinclined to do so. Her husband similarly, it appears.'
'Keep your filthy thoughts off my sister.' We talked instead about de Lambant's sister, Smarana, whose wedding day, determined by a useful conjunction of constellations, was little more than five weeks away. The thought of three days of family celebration cheered us, not least because the two families involved, the de Lambants and the Orinis, had engaged Kemperer's company to play on the second day. We should have work then, at least.
'We'll perform such a comedy as all will remember ever after. I'm even prepared to fall down the stairs again for the sake of an extra laugh.'
He dug me in the ribs. 'Pray that we eat before that date, or I can see us treading the boards in the Shadow World. Here's the market — let's run different ways!'
The fruit market stood at the end of the Stary Most district. At this time of morning it was crammed with customers and buzzing with argument, gossip, and wasps the size of thumbs. De Lambant and I slipped among the stalls at a trot, bouncing off customers, swerving round posts, to arrive together at the other end laughing, with a good muster of peaches and apricots between us.
. . .
UPD Релиз обновлен 16.09.2015
Не жилим спасибо. Не забываем голосовать за трекер!!!
Добавления:Aldiss Brian - An Island Called Moreau - 2015.epub
Aldiss Brian - Dracula Unbound - 2015.epub
Aldiss Brian - Enemies of the System - 2015.epub (eBook, к имеющемуся fb2)
Aldiss Brian - Finches of Mars - 2015.epub
Aldiss Brian - Report on Probability A - 2015.epub
Aldiss Brian - The Malacia Tapestry - 2015.epub (eBook, retail, но без иллюстраций; к имеющимся OCR)
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