The Shifting Realities of PK Dick

"The Double: Bill Symposium": Replies to "A Questionnaire for Professional SF Writers and Editors" (1969)

Question 1: For what reason or reasons do you write science fiction in preference to other classes of literature?

Its audience is not hamstrung by middle-class prejudices and will listen to genuinely new ideas. There is less of an emphasis on mere style and more on content -- as should be. It is a man's field, and hence a happy ending is not required -- as in all the fiction fields dominated by women. It is one of the few branches of serious fiction in which humor plays a major role (thereby making SF more complete, as was Shakespeare's work). Being one of the oldest modes of fiction known to the Western world, it embodies some of the most subtle, ancient, and far-reaching dreams, ideas, and aspirations of which thinking man is capable. In essence, it's the broadest field of fiction, permitting the most far-ranging and advanced concepts of every possible type; no variety of idea can be excluded from SF; everything is its property.

Question 2: What do you consider the raison d'etre, the chief value of science fiction?

To present in fiction form new ideas too difficult or too vague as yet to be presented as scientific fact (e.g., Psionics). And ideas that are not scientific fact, never will be, but that are fascinating conjectures -- in other words, possible or alternate science systems. World views that we can't "believe" in but that interest us (as, for example, we find interesting the medieval worldview but simply cannot any longer accept it as "true"). So SF presents to us, in addition to the worldview, which we actually adopt, a great range of "as if" views: The possession of these have the effect of making our minds flexible: We are capable of seeing alternate viewpoints as coequal with our own.

Question 3: What is your appraisal of the relationship of science fiction to the "mainstream" of literature?

SF fails to explore the depths of interpersonal human relationships, and this is its lack; however, on a purely intellectual level it possesses more conceptual ideas as such, and hence in this respect is superior to mainstream or quality fiction. And (supra) it does not need to dwell on mere style as such but can range farther in terms of its content. But SF (excepting Bradbury) is for younger, more optimistic people, who haven't yet truly suffered at the hands of life; quality fiction tends -- and rightly so -- to deal with the defeated, those who have lost the first bloom... hence quality fiction is more mature than SF -- alas.

Question 4: Do you believe that participating in fandom, fanzines, and conventions would be a benefit or a hindrance to would-be writers?

A benefit, but not a very great one. It would be a benefit if the fans allowed the writer to do the talking, instead of trying to instruct him. It is the job of the writer to do the telling; he should not be turned into a listener. But the concepts in SF writing are not derived from fandom, from within the field, anyhow; they are -- or at least should be -- derived from the wide world itself, its far shores in particular. From everywhere but SF fandom.

Question 5: What source or sources would you recommend to beginning writers as having been, in your experience, the most productive of ideas for science fiction stories?

Journals that deal in the most advanced research of clinical psychology, especially the work of the European existential analysis school. C. G. Jung. Oriental writings such as those on Zen Buddhism, Taoism, etc. Really authoritative -- as compared with popularizations -- historical works (e.g., The Brutal Friendship). Medieval works, especially those dealing with crafts, such as glass blowing -- and science, alchemy, religion, etc. Greek philosophy, Roman literature of every sort. Persian religious texts. Renaissance studies on the theory of art. German dramatic writings of the Romantic period.

Question 6: Do you feel that a beginning science fiction writer should concentrate on short stories as opposed to novels -- or vice versa? Why?

Short stories first, to master this easier form. Then, very slowly, work toward longer pieces, say up to twenty-five thousand words. Then at last try a full-size (i.e., sixty-thousand-word) novel, based on the structure of some writer who is admired. I, for instance, based my first novels on the structure used by A. E. van Vogt. Later, when I was more sure of myself, I departed from this. Be sure, however, that you select a writer who is skilled in the novel form (for instance, don't select Ray Bradbury).

Question 7: What suggestions can you offer to the beginning writer concerning the development of "realistic" characters and writing effective dialogue?

Read modern "quality" writing, especially the short pieces of Algren, Styron, Herb Gold, the so-called New School writers. And the fine left-wing writers of the thirties, such as Dos Passes, Richard Wright, and go back as far as Dreiser and Hawthorne -- try to stick to American writers (including, of course, Hemingway and Gertrude Stein) because it is among the American writers that realistic dialogue has developed. Try the French realistics, such as Flaubert, for plot and characterization. Avoid Proust and other subjective-type writers. And by all means intently study James Joyce; everything from his early short stories to The Wake.

Question 8: Do you believe that an effective novel requires a message or moral? Please comment.

Absolutely not! The notion that a novel needs a moral or message is a bourgeois concept. In the days of the aristocracy it was recognized that art did not need to instruct or elevate; it could be a success by merely entertaining. One should never look down on entertainment; Mozart string quartets do not instruct -- show me a moral or message in, say, the late Beethoven. Music is pure; literature can be, too; it becomes more pure as it drops its intention of improving and instructing the audience. The writer is not a bit superior in morals than his audience anyway -- and frequently he's inferior to them. What moral can he really teach them? What he has to offer is his ideas.

Question 9: To what extent do you think it possible to detect a writer's viewpoints as to politics, religion, or moral problems through examination of his stories?

If the writer is a good one, it's impossible. Only a bad writer details his personal viewpoints in his fiction. However, it is always possible that some good writing may be found in an "instructive" work. But at the moment I can't think of any (e.g., Ray Bradbury. There is no way, in reading his work, to tell really what his personal views are; the writer in this case disappears entirely, and his story reveals itself on its own. This is the way it ought to be.). It is one of the cardinal errors of literary criticism to believe that the author's own views can be inferred from his writing; Freud, for instance, makes this really ugly error again and again. A successful writer can adopt any viewpoint that his characters must needs possess in order to function; this is the measure of his craft, this ability to free his work of his own prejudices.

Question 10: During your formative writings, what one author influenced you the most? What other factors such as background, education, etc., were important influences?

Van Vogt influenced me the most. Also Tony Boucher (i.e., his critical views, not his fiction). Also my interest in the Japanese novelists in the French Department of Tokyo University, who wrote after World War Two. And my interest in Depth Psychology and drugs. And in "stream of consciousness" writing, as with James Joyce. And -- but I wouldn't recommend this for the would-be writer -- my own "nervous breakdown," which I experienced at nineteen and then again at twenty-four and at thirty-three. Suffering of this sort educates your viewpoint, but at the expense of your creature-comfort principle; it may make you a better writer but the cost is far too great.

Question 11: What do you consider the greatest weakness of science fiction today?

Its inability to explore the subtle, intricate relationships that exist between the sexes. Men, in their relationship with women, get themselves into the most goddamn difficult circumstances, and SF ignores -- or is unable to deal with -- this fundamental aspect of adult life. Therefore SF remains preadult, and therefore appeals -- more or less -- to preadults. If SF explored the man-woman aspect of life it would not lose its readers as those readers reach maturity. SF simply must learn to do this or it will always be retarded -- as it is now. The novel Player Piano is an exception to this, and I suggest that every SF fan and especially every would-be writer study again and again the details of this superb novel, which deal specifically with the relationship of the protagonist and his wife.