Listen now | We’re returning to science fiction and fantasy this week and an author you most certainly have never heard of—Alexander Moore Phillips (aka A.M. Phillips). He published sporadically from 1929 to 1947 and his stories and essays were seen in science fiction and fantasy pulps.
There's a lot of truth to the notion that a lot of people have experiences that defy reason, and will never be told. I had one. I remember telling people I trusted not to give me funny looks, but funny looks and dismissal were what I got for telling them about it. It's easy to imagine there's a lot of high strangeness that will never be shared. It sure doesn't help that there are a lot of spinners of fiction who wish they had such experiences who decide to make one up. In their efforts, especially when revealed to be at least doubtful, those tales cause people to have distrust in the genuine experiences others have. The human paradox is that we're storytellers, which makes everything we say at least worthy of some doubt. Even evidence isn't enough to sway some people, so imagine what the entire lacking of evidence does for the veracity of the tale told by someone with nothing to show. It's a mean circle of doubt we humans create.
Well said, Rick! Especially these days with such confusion in the information streams. So rhetorically, what to do? It's my feeling that in a case of world-wide PTSD as we're dealing with now, story will help some people make challenging information more palatable. In other cases people will insist on their facts served straight up and without a chaser. I guess we all must do our part in whatever way we can.
It didn't make it into this week's podcast but that time travel incident was mentioned in other pulp-era science fictions stories. Henry Kuttner's "Noon" ("Thrilling Wonder Stories" 08/1947 issue, as by Hudsen Hastings) contains an oblique reference to the same The Moberly-Jourdain incident at Versailles that A. M. Phillips wrote about in his essay, "Time Travel Happens."
There's a lot of truth to the notion that a lot of people have experiences that defy reason, and will never be told. I had one. I remember telling people I trusted not to give me funny looks, but funny looks and dismissal were what I got for telling them about it. It's easy to imagine there's a lot of high strangeness that will never be shared. It sure doesn't help that there are a lot of spinners of fiction who wish they had such experiences who decide to make one up. In their efforts, especially when revealed to be at least doubtful, those tales cause people to have distrust in the genuine experiences others have. The human paradox is that we're storytellers, which makes everything we say at least worthy of some doubt. Even evidence isn't enough to sway some people, so imagine what the entire lacking of evidence does for the veracity of the tale told by someone with nothing to show. It's a mean circle of doubt we humans create.
Well said, Rick! Especially these days with such confusion in the information streams. So rhetorically, what to do? It's my feeling that in a case of world-wide PTSD as we're dealing with now, story will help some people make challenging information more palatable. In other cases people will insist on their facts served straight up and without a chaser. I guess we all must do our part in whatever way we can.
It didn't make it into this week's podcast but that time travel incident was mentioned in other pulp-era science fictions stories. Henry Kuttner's "Noon" ("Thrilling Wonder Stories" 08/1947 issue, as by Hudsen Hastings) contains an oblique reference to the same The Moberly-Jourdain incident at Versailles that A. M. Phillips wrote about in his essay, "Time Travel Happens."