Wit and Play in Classic Science Fiction: The Best of Fredric Brown
The Best of Fredric Brown (1977) was the tenth installment in Lester Del Rey’s Classic Science Fiction Series. The then living horror author Robert Bloch (1917–1994) gives the introduction. H. R. Van Dongen (1920–2010) returns to do his second cover in the series, having done the cover for the seventh volume in honor of John W. Campbell.
There is no afterword since, generally, the series seems to include an afterword by the author only if (fair enough) the author was living at the time. Since Fredric Brown had already died (1906–1972) by the time this book was published there is no afterword.
I first heard of Fredric Brown a few years ago here at Black Gate. Our own esteemed editor John O’Neill was reminiscing about this very book. As with so many of John’s Del Rey “Best of” posts, I was intrigued and tracked down a copy. I read through the book and enjoyed many of the stories.
But, my main memory of Brown was primarily one of annoyance.
At that time Brown struck me as an author who often tried to be too cute for his own good. My impression was not helped when I picked up his short novel Martians, Go Home (1954) a few months later. I enjoy a bit of humor in my fiction. But I guess I was not in the mood for something like Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy at the time.
I also found the twist endings of many of Brown’s short stories to be less than satisfying. So when I started to go through this series for reviews on Black Gate, I was not looking forward to returning to Fredric Brown.
But upon re-reading this volume, I surprisingly found that my prior annoyance had dissipated. What changed?
I am convinced that one’s reading is sometimes greatly affected by the context of one’s life. Perhaps the first time I read The Best of Fredric Brown I just was not in the mood to experience, what the book’s back cover calls, the “Wit and Whimsy of Fredric Brown.” Perhaps I wanted my fiction to be a bit more serious. And perhaps I was living in the post-hangover era of M. Night Shyamalan movie twist-endings. Whatever it was, this go-around was much more enjoyable.

I had three films on my schedule for Monday, July 30. First, an animated science-fictional retelling of Cinderella for adults, called Cinderella the Cat. Then I’d hurry from the J.A. De Sève Theatre to the Centre Cinéma Impérial, where Fantasia was presenting a documentary from the early 80s about bandes dessinées: Pourquoi l’étrange Monsieur Zolock s’intéressait-il tant à la bande dessinée? Then I’d run back to the Hall Theatre for a presentation of Sion Sono’s Tokyo Vampire Hotel, a kinetic horror-action film with campy apocalyptic overtones. Even for Fantasia, it was going to be a strange day.





Before writing about the movies I saw during the last weekdays of the Fantasia festival, I’m going to skip back to the beginning to write about some films I watched before attending my first screening this year with a general audience. At a festival with 130 movies, most of which are shown in a theatre once or maybe twice, one has to make some hard choices about which to see. Fortunately, Fantasia’s screening room gives harried film critics the chance to catch some of the movies they have to miss in theatres due to one scheduling exigency or another. I passed by on the first day of the festival, and found that this year the screening room offered curtained cubicles and a healthy selection of films. Among them was an Indonesian western named Buffalo Boys, an experimental German horror film called Luz, and a transgressive French animated webseries titled Crisis Jung. 

