|
|
|
|
|
|
which is an English country-house party where the anti-social and slightly drunk Paul Foote becomes convinced (rather incredibly) that the suave foreigner playing the piano is a werewolf. He quickly discovers that his suspicions are justified, and because another member of the party is an expert on lycanthropy he acquires the means to offer the whole company convincing evidence of the fact. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
In a classical fantasy or a modern horror story this could only be the prelude to a long crescendo of predatory suspense and evolving terror, with the affective qualities of the story dictating both pace and development. But that is not the way that Blish and his characters handle the situation. What is remarkable in the story is its rationalitynot only the determined attempt to make the hypothesis plausible by the recruitment of a "scientific explanation" for lycanthropy, but also the logical manner in which the protagonist and his allies proceed with the task of destroying the menace. A corollary to both these aspects of the story's rationality is provided in the melodramatic (but eminently satisfactory) conclusion, where the werewolf's view of himself and his circumstances is extrapolated and displayed. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The method by which Blish constructs a rationalised account of lycanthropy (all the properties ascribed to the werewolf by legend are shown as effects or side-effects of a hormone secreted by a hyperpineal gland which allows liquid protoplasm to reconstruct its containing structures) is fairly straightforwardthe science of biology is invoked in order to provide a jargon of apology rather than as a springboard for the imaginative exploration of possibility. It must be pointed out, though, that both the rigorousness and the competence of Blish's supportive argument are unusual, not only in the context of the science fiction of 1940, when the story was written, or even of 1950, when it was published, but in general. Jack Williamson's Darker Than You Think, published shortly after Blish wrote his story, attempts a similar rationalisation, but in a much shallower manner, invoking a rather vague hereditary process which pays no heed to Mendelian genetics. The slightness of this alternative (and more usual) jargon of apology does not detract from the novel's power as a literary work, but sets its methodology apart from that of the Blish story. In the great majority of sf storiestoday as in 1940the establishment of the basic hypothesis is little more than a ritual process, the priority being given (for very good reasons) to reasoning forward from the notion to its consequences. In Blish's fiction a much stronger priority is given to backward reasoning, in search of firmer foundations for hypotheses: greater justification in the service of a higher degree of real- |
|
|
|
|
|