On Andre Norton

As a teen, I read the ‘classic’ science fiction authors, Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke, etc, and though I enjoyed their work, I can not say that any were major influences on my writing. Not in the way Kipling and Burroughs, whom I had discovered earlier, were and are. Nor had I as yet found such writers as Zelazny or Le Guin who came to be important to me. But there was one from that time I can count as a fairly important influence: Andre Norton.

Starting, of course, with her best known novel, ‘Witch World.’ Considering how prolific a writer she was (over 130 books!), it was perhaps luck I read it first. It was certainly fortunate, for it is the ideal starting point for Norton, and a bit of watershed in her own work. From ‘Witch World’ on, she wrote less genre science fiction and increasingly delved into fantasy; the Witch World series itself morphed from the one to the other over time. Women also played an increasingly important role as she no longer wrote for primarily a young male audience.

There is certainly foreshadowing of the ideas in ‘Witch World’ in the fiction that preceded. Portals, telepathy, ‘wise women’—these all appear. It was new stuff for me and it made an impression. I suspect I have stolen as much from Norton as anyone—not necessarily consciously. It is something I can see, looking back, and I readily acknowledge the influence. In fact, I believe ‘Witch World’ might have been my introduction to portals, long before I ever read of finding them in old wardrobes.

Andre Norton wrote no one novel that could be called ‘great,’ perhaps, but she wrote a number that are very good, and even more that are decent reads—I’ve yet to find one that was not. It is true that many of the early books follow the rules for genre science fiction of their time (the 50s and early 60s), being big on plot and action and a bit shy on character development. She wrote to a market and there is nothing wrong with that. That she managed, none the less, to make them something more is all to the good.

She was not a stylist, but the language is straightforward and serviceable, and rarely clumsy. Highly regarded mainstream writers have written in a similar enough style (e.g. Graham Greene). I admit to having more interest in language and am attracted to the prose of such authors as Kipling or Evelyn Waugh; this does not prevent me from appreciating Norton’s work.

There are, to be sure, similarities to other writers from her time. Poul Anderson shared her interests in history and myth, and was not afraid to pursue ideas ‘hard’ science fiction writers would pass on. Jack Vance readily mingled fantasy and science fiction, but was much more of a stylist (and, yes, I like both). But Andre Norton brought her unique perspective; I hesitate to call it a female perspective, though some might. I prefer just to see it as a Norton perspective. It’s a pretty good perspective.

Foundational Science Fiction

These are five foundational science fiction novels, the ones that set the stage for the genre’s flowering in the Twentieth Century. They are great reads, too.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley — Some label Frankenstein as the first science fiction novel but science fiction had been around pretty much as long as fiction had existed. Nor was it genre science fiction as we know it today; that took half a century and more to appear after Shelley wrote. It is the first important science fiction novel in the modern Western tradition, raising questions and exploring themes that have been frequently revisited since.

The idea of overreaching and creating a monster was certainly not new with Shelley, but she was the one to join it to scientific experimentation. That takes the concept from the fantasy end of the speculative fiction continuum to that of science fiction.

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne — Verne’s submarine story is not his best (that would be Around the World in Eighty Days) nor his first (Five Weeks in a Balloon), but it is the most influential. Verne’s novels are where genre science fiction begin, with their emphasis on the science aspect of the stories—even if the science is not always that good!

We might say the novels are the original ‘hard’ science fiction. Verne’s science fiction needs science. It is the reason the tales exist; they grow from scientific concepts. That is frequently not true of the work of those who followed.

The Time Machine by H.G. Wells — This short first novel by Wells truly set the stage for science fiction as we know it today. It carries us into the future. That was something new; the work of Verne and others was generally set in the present. The science, as typical of Wells, is not hard. It simply exists as a plot device.

But what a plot device! The time machine does not really need a scientific explanation. It is what it allows Wells to do that matters—explore a frightening future.

The Lost World by Arthur Conan Doyle — Lost worlds in general were popular in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries. It was an age of exploration into unknown parts of the earth (unknown to Europeans). The idea pops up in the books of Haggard, Burroughs, and many others. Doyle’s undiscovered land has dinosaurs. That right there is enough, isn’t it?

The science is nothing much and the whole premise of so many prehistoric creatures surviving unchanged is not at all believable. No matter; it’s a great story, a true science fiction adventure.

A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs — ‘Science Fantasy’ some call it. Burroughs’s tale of adventure and romance on another planet truly opened the gates of modern science fiction, much of badly imitative of his concepts. Burroughs, however, was a pretty decent and inventive writer, with a great deal of tongue-in-cheek humor in his novels.

It begins with what is truly a fantasy device, the protagonist’s body transported to another world. We could imagine scientific explanations for this if we wished or simply look at it as another example of portal fantasy. Burroughs—wisely, perhaps—chose not to explain. What is important is that it carries him (and us) away.

Classics Illustrated

In 1957, the summer between first and second grade, I sat in the back of my folks’ Plymouth station wagon and read the Classics Illustrated comic of ‘The Red Badge of Courage.’ We were on our way to New Orleans for a gymnastics meet in which my sisters were competing.

It was the only time I’ve ever been to New Orleans—or that far west—but I remember it quite vividly. Especially the ducks in the pond across from our motel! What would be more likely to make an impression on a seven-year-old, after all?

That was sort of my introduction to great literature and I was soon reading the ‘real’ books, not that a number of other Classics Illustrated titles didn’t pass through our home. Clues to go look for the books, at times, or to avoid them!

When I was twelve, one of their ‘special issues’ came out. These were titles that were not adapted from fiction but covered some historic or scientific topic. I picked up ‘Prehistoric World’ and it changed my life. Really.

Like any kid, I was interested in prehistoric animals, dinosaurs, etc. There was more to this comic, though. The greater part of it was dedicated to the ancestry of man. I met Australopithecus and Pithecanthropus (now Homo erectus) and those Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons and all the rest and I was hooked. Visits to the library meant bringing home books on anthropology and I plowed through a lot of thick volumes for a couple years there—when we moved from Columbus Ohio to Florida when I was fourteen, I didn’t have as much access to good libraries.

And, of course, I had a beach that required my occasional attention.

I’ll note that ‘Prehistoric World’ had a quite good explanation of genetics and evolution, as well. Good enough that I could figure out what they were talking about, anyway! It was completely new stuff to me.

I very much intended to go into anthropology all through high school. That sort of slipped into the whole history/art history thing when I got to college and decided I didn’t really want to be the scientist that much. And by the time I finished college, I decided I’d rather create and went off to paint pictures.

But I’m still fascinated by ‘cave men’ and the story of the human race. Knowing whence we came connects us to each other, to the world and to the universe. The same stars have shone on our ‘family’ for billions of years and, at some point, we looked up and reached for them.

Ah, to have been there at that moment!


All the above was first written and posted elsewhere a decade ago, but I felt it worth recycling. Since then, I have written a science fiction time travel novel in which I was able to indulge that youthful interest in our ancestors by visiting a tribe of Neanderthals. That would be ‘When Man Was Young.’ I’ve also dropped early humans (or their relatives, to be more exact) into some of my fantasy novels. And yes, the dwarfs of my entire Izan mythos are essentially small Neanderthals.