
I’ve finished reading all the Hugo nominees and winners, and decided to add on to that reading by also reading the Nebula winners and nominees, along with several other award categories. The Nebula Awards are given by the Science Fiction Writers of America, which means this is an award given by writers, not just readers. There’s often a different selection than the Hugos had, though there is also significant overlap. I’ll be showing which novel won each year and making my own choice for a winner each time.
The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin (Winner, My Winner)- Grade: A+
Ursula K. Le Guin sketches out a remarkably detailed anarchist society, while pitting its pseudo-utopian problems alongside problems with capitalism and socialism. It’s really well done and incredibly deep. At no point does it seem like the society is merely a foil, except perhaps at times when questions of sexual relations is concerned. Even there, though, Le Guin has in-universe reasons for what is happening and ties it all into her detailed world-building. She also explores the question of how much our upbringing can cloud our thoughts regarding being self-critical and analyzing our own views. Why not the highest possible score? Because other than the main character, an intriguing scientist with a good amount of depth, every other character is exactly what you might expect. They’re created purely for the sake of the plot, but the plot is so intriguing that you don’t end up minding it as much as you probably should. So even the somewhat uneven characterization doesn’t take away from the glory of this novel. It certainly must stand as among the best science fiction novels ever written.
334 by Thomas M. Disch- Grade: A
Ostensibly, this is a collection of stories centered around inhabitants of a low income apartment building in the future (from the perspective of 1974). Such a description is to treat the novel very ill. On the covery, blurbs compared it to Charles Dickens. I think the comparison is apt in some ways–both Disch and Dickens see keenly into the human heart and condition and take a scalpel to that condition to cut away the fat–but in others it is very off. Dickens tended towards a moral and ethical core in his storytelling, and while an in-depth analysis of 334 might yield such a purpose in it, I would be hard pressed at what it might be, having read the novel. The stories here are largely about the everyday lives of these inhabitants of this housing and a future in which careless harm is the norm, whether intended or not. People are only allowed to have children if they score certain numbers on various aptitude tests. Even having a family history of conditions like diabetes can cause someone to lose points, and perhaps put them beneath an arbitrary threshold of having desirable genes. But this is only one of the many backgrounds of the novel.
The first story reads like a coming-of-age story as its main character, Birdie, chases the arbitrary number goal by retaking tests and, eventually attempting to write an essay. Classes are taught via video tapes of ancient lectures, most of which are not even understood by the people running the coursework. When Birdie finally goes to a library and discovers Plato, he undergoes an awakening to the world, seeing beauty in everyone and everything… only to give into the most hideous ugliness in the whole novel as his score ultimately does not satisfy him.
Other stories range from strange to disturbing. A woman takes a drug that has her oscillate between her “now” and the experience of being a woman during the fall of the Roman Empire. It makes sense in the story–I promise (maybe). A man working at a hospital robs the morgue to sell the bodies for unspeakable uses, only to discover one body he’s sold should have been left well enough alone. A man discovers that he desperately needs to be a mother in order to fulfill his humanity. These are just some of the many stories told here.
Every content warning possible should be caveated with this book. Casual use of extreme language, including racist language, is here. Sexual assault, eroticism, and violence of many kinds. If those content warnings don’t turn a reader off, and if one wants to endure–yes, endure–such a novel, this is as intense a look at the casual cruelty and strangeness of human nature I’ve ever read.
Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said by Philip K. Dick- Grade: D
Stop me if you’ve heard this one: a person wakes up in a world in which they don’t exist and has to navigate that. Now, granted, PKD might have done that in this novel before so many other iterations existed, but combine that with the extremely obvious and predictable answer to the plot being, once again, drugs, and I found this to be an absolute snoozefest. This is the second time I read it, and when I read it for the Hugo list, I was a little more gracious, scoring it as a C-. However, on a second go-round, hoping to find something that would really make me enjoy it or get it more, I found I liked it even less. The main character is an unlikable mess. The police state is so in the background that whatever alleged foreboding we’re supposed to experience is tangential. And because our main character is such an unsympathetic character, the novel almost makes you as the reader want him to get caught. Having PKD retroactively interpret the novel as a kind of retelling of the Ethiopian Eunuch in the Bible in Acts and seeing it as people in power having to beware of coming judgment is cool, but has absolutely no connection to the actual words on the page. There’s this movement to reinterpret so many of PKD’s works as so much better or more powerful than they actually are and while I think that’s a fun exercise, it honestly just makes me even more annoyed at the works themselves. The story of PKD running with this interpretation of Flow my Tears basically makes me think there is little, if any, thought put into the actual novel itself, and that once again the answer is just “drugs did it” and move on. Okay, we get it, that was the time period and the life he lived. I don’t have to like that or be even remotely interested in it. At least do something interesting with it. I could rant on, but I’m done.
The Godwhale by T.J. Bass- Grade: B+
The Godwhale is absolutely the kind of novel you finish reading and then set it down and think… What!? Seriously though, what even is this novel. It is so strange and so over-the-top weird, and yet, still very good. The story is vaguely related to Half Past Human but definitely stands alone without it. The setting is a post-apocalyptic Earth. The Godwhale itself is a massive, whale-like ship that was designed to comb the seas for resources. When humans ostensibly disappeared, its functionality came to an end and it awaits a reawakening from humanity’s return. Meanwhile, under the seas, a new humankind arises… It’s a very strange story that balances the oddness of a god-like machine hovering in the distance with Bass’s creation of an entire undersea culture. This story haunts you with its strangeness. I enjoyed it quite a bit.
1974- A strong slate, apart what I saw as another PKD dud (and I do like some of PKD’s works, mind you). 334 and The Godwhale buffet the reader with strangeness. The stories are written in such a way as to almost force readers to reorient their expectations and even concepts on the fly. I love science fiction that does that. Flow My Tears… seems to be an attempt in the same vein, but not nearly as successful. And of course, The Dispossessed is, in my opinion, one of the all-time greatest science fiction novels. It’s a great year, overall.
Links
Nebula Awards- check out my other posts on the Nebula nominees and winners here. (Scroll down for more).
Hugos– I have read every single Hugo-nominated novel. Click here to read through all my posts reviewing them (still in progress).
SDG.

