Between them, Maxim & his commenters make most of the basic points about Michael Crichton. I shall rather miss him. His fiction was as cheap as chips & he had none of the talent of a great popular writer like Martin Cruz Smith or Thomas Harris. But if nothing else he was a bete noir of insider sci fi–& the things a genre execrates are a direct connection to the truths about itself it’s trying to hide from itself.
Farah Mendlesohn drew my attention to these, which are quite funny (there are two further pages, not quite so good).
Comma Press sent me an early copy of their anthology The New Uncanny (ed Sarah Eyre & Ra Page), which stretches its arms quite wide to gather in such diverse souls as Christopher Priest, AS Byatt, Ramsey Campbell, Hanif Kureishi & Nick Royle. (Some great titles– “Anette & I are Fucking in Hell”, Etgar Keret; & Chris Priest’s “The Sorting Out”.) I’m looking forward to reading it. Obvious comparisons would be with Peter Straub’s Poe’s Children; the Straub-edited Conjunctions 39 of 2002; and Ann & Jeff VanderMeer’s The New Weird.
Reviewing: Stephen King, Just After Sunset.