Sans Fig Leaf
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"Worlds of Wonder"
17 March, 2005
I lot of my childhood was spent in libraries. My mom took us to the public library on a regular basis. Each time we moved to a new town, one of the first errands we would run would be to find the library and get our library cards.
I was completely confused and devastated when we moved to one town (the "Welcome to..." sign at the town border said "Population: 54") that didn't have a public library. It didn't have it's own school, either. I had something like a two hour bus ride every morning to get to school in the next town, and that place didn't have it's own library, they participated in a bookmobile program, which apparently the town we lived in didn't.
I was extremely happy when Dad was transferred out of there less than three months after we moved in. I'm sure my folks hated moving again, but please, no library? On the other hand, maybe Mom was as relieved as I was.
The next town we moved to didn't have a public library, but the school had a library, and a bookmobile came to town twice a week. It was in the bookmobile that I first met Andre Norton.
She wasn't there in person, of course, but one of her books was. Star Man's Son it said on the cover, and had a picture of a guy who looked sort of like Tarzan, poling a raft past some ruins. An enormous cat perched on the front of the raft, looking ahead.
At least part of the reason I picked up the book was because of the Tarzan-ish cover. I was a big Tarzan fan at the time. But the title hinted at something to do with space, and I was also a science fiction fan, having been hooked on Heinlein by my mom when I was still a toddler.
So I checked it out. And I read it and re-read it several times before the bookmobile came back. It was a mind-blowing book for a ten year old. A post-apocalyptic world where a small group of people hand down what little science and history knowledge remains, father-to-son, and the most prestigious position one can aspire to in society is to be a Star Man -- one of the people who go out into the wilderness searching for useful items and knowledge of the world that was.
Its premise sounds old hat now, but it considering it was originally written in 1952, it was astounding. It was also, despite assuming an apocalypse, extremely hopeful. I think that's why the book appealed to me. The main character has his dreams thwarted at the very beginning of the book, but rather than settle for what's offered instead, he strikes out on his own, carves out a new place for himself, and achieves his dream on his own terms. The subtext, that so long as humans survive, the human spirit will reach for a better world, resonated with something deep inside me.
Over the next few years I found more of her books in various libraries. They all seemed to be set in different worlds. Some were fantasies, some were historical fiction, some were far-future space operas, some were near future thrillers.
The one thing that all had in common was a lead character I could relate to, he faced problems that, when boiled down to their essence, were real problems I could imagine facing. Because though the worlds she imagined were complex and full-formed, they were always simply a backdrop for a very human story. It was about our hopes, our fears, and our dreams.
When I started buying books of my own (and what a revelation that was -- I could own my own library, right in my own room!), books by Ms. Norton were some of the first I bought. I can still remember the excitement I felt when I found a copy of Star Man's Son in a used book store. My own copy!
I read it and re-read it until it was falling apart, and even then I kept it. I would still own that copy today if a friend of mine hadn't decided it was Satanic; his reasoning was that if there were a nuclear war, it would obviously be the end of the world prophesied in the Bible, therefore anything that said humans could recover from it must be Satanic. He simply swiped the book one day when I wasn't looking, and he burned it "for my own good."
I didn't think I would ever forgive him.
Many fantasy and science fiction books that I loved during those years I eventually outgrew. When I chanced to re-read one many years later, I found myself a bit embarassed that I'd liked them so much.
Not the Nortons. They got under my skin and never left. And every one I've re-read later in life was still engaging, still interesting, still mind-blowing.
For the longest time her work seemed to be overlooked by the people who write the retrospectives and scholarly articles saying which forces shaped the genre. Finally, a few years ago, it dawned on someone that just about everything she's written from about 1944 on is continuously in print. People keep buying her stuff. Whole decades go by in which most or all of the output of the "grandmasters" is unavailable, but walk into a bookstore today, and you're liable to find several new editions of Norton's novels on the shelf.
It seemed like she'd always been there, and always would be. So it was a shock this morning to read she had passed away quietly in her sleep. I mean, I knew it had to happen someday, but not yet.
She imagined wonderful worlds, sometimes filled with great danger, but also with people who were willing to face the danger for something they believed in or someone they cared for. My personal library is huge, and the Norton books are scattered all over. I did a little survey a bit ago, and discovered at least one of her books in every room in our house. Her writing was like that. It wiggled its way in and made itself at home.
--G. K. Chesterton