BRIAN ALDISS
Remembering an SF giant
The death of Brian Aldiss in August, at the age of 92, has robbed British literary science fiction of one of its preeminent figures. Over a long career, he produced more than 40 novels, including Non-Stop (1958), Hothouse (1962) and the “Helliconia” trilogy (1982-85). A prolific writer and editor, he also turned his hand to memoir, poetry, SF anthologies, short fiction and literary criticism. His 1969 short story “Supertoys Last All Summer Long” provided the source material for AI: Artificial Intelligence.
Born in Norfolk in 1925, Aldiss was educated at prep school and then, as a boarder, at West Buckland in Devon. In 1943, he joined the Royal Corps of Signals. He served in India and with the 14th Army in Burma. When the conflict ended, he continued to serve in the Far East. These experiences had a huge influence on his fiction.
Returning to England, Aldiss settled in Oxford and, working in a bookstore, gathered material (first published in The Bookseller) that would eventually be reflected in the comic novel The Brightfount Diaries (1955). Published by Faber, it was successful enough to enable Aldiss to become a full-time writer.
While his early life was in many respects conventional, Aldiss himself, in the words of his friend Michael Moorcock, “was one of those gentlemanly English rebels”. Moorcock continues: “We had both kept our schoolfellows entertained with stories, but I got thrown out for it. We were both largely self-educated and working for periodicals, even though pretty different – he was literary editor of The Oxford Mail and I edited Tarzan Adventures.”
This rebellious streak manifested itself in Aldiss’s decision not just to write SF, but to act
“brian was a man of limitless curiosity and in his work he was analysing the world, whereas Jimmy [JG ballard], for instance, imposed his ideas on reality. I think if brian had been more impositional or had a series character, perhaps, he might have had a higher profile in the SF world. Happily, his literary reputation continues to grow.” Michael Moorcock
as its advocate. His history of the genre, Billion Year Spree (1973), was hugely influential. “He longed for the best SF to be recognised,” says Stephen Baxter.
One example of his advocacy came when he was the “catalyst” in approaching the Arts Council for funding for New Worlds, the Moorcock-edited magazine that was the house publication of the 1960s new wave in Britain. “Brian’s geniality went a long way for us, too,” adds Moorcock. “He was very sociable and people liked him, so he had many readers and friends in literary circles.”
Indeed, there are countless stories of Aldiss as an expansive, fun-loving companion. “I remember a great ketchup fight in Yarmouth,” says Moorcock. “People were horrified. We only realised when we saw ourselves in the mirror that people thought we’d been in a particularly nasty fight or accident.” There was a gentler side to Aldiss too. At Novacon in 1993, Baxter went to the bar to find Aldiss and Harry Harrison holding court. When Baxter went to leave, Aldiss noticed. “Brian came away with me, we found a quiet corner, to get away from the ‘Harry and Brian Show’, as he put it. Very friendly, very funny… He was genuinely interested in people, as opposed to being the kind of ego that likes to be the centre of attention.” Throughout an eventful life, Aldiss endured setbacks, yet always bounced back. His stack of awards included an OBE in 2005. He is survived by his partner, Alison Soskice, four children from his two marriages and seven grandchildren.
“The strengths [in his work] come from the sheer quality of his writing – it was fine writing in every sense, whatever genre he wrote for – but in SF he approached Wells, I think, in his mixture of humanity and grand Darwinian vistas. He was restless, and endlessly experimental, in itself a great strength. And he was always interested in the new.” Stephen Baxter