The Runaway Robot by Lester Del Rey (1967)

As per previous post, I'm trying to start reading fiction again by going back to the first sci-fi book I can remember ever picking up. It's a children's book, so I tried to keep my expectations low, but there was no need. Its fairly substantial and moving. Spoilers from here.

The story has a little bit of Flowers for Algernon kind of flow, with a protagonist who's in way over his head and just on the border of being able to perceive it. Even though he's a robot, his child-like wonder and questioning makes him a great stand-in for young readers. By the end of the story, there's a little twist, which is well telegraphed, that he will go down in history as probably the first sentient robot. There's a hint that humans will eventually create a robot that will one day be their master, but this is not played up at the end; its all upbeat. It kind of reminds me of the end of the Neuromancer series, where you thought this whole long story was about one thing, but its also the beginning of something else.

Other than the sentiment, which is more than enough reason to read this, there's not much else to take away here. Most characters are paper thin, and the dialogue is just OK. The background and tech are pure vintage from the atomic age, or space age, or whatever you want to call that long stretch between World War 2 and Star Wars. A good example is the video phone booth that requires an operator to patch you through. Completely unnecessary are the aliens from every planet in the solar system. This little universe strangely reminds me of the Firefly universe, with a busy bright center, and rough and tumble outer edges.

I don't know if I will ever read this again, but for historical reasons alone it is first on my restored bookshelf.

status 2012 November

I want to retrace my roots, and return to the beginning. Some time in my single-digit years, I would walk to the local library and haunt the place. I found a sci-fi book there that utterly captivated me called "The Runaway Robot". Its hard to remember now, but I think I used to check it out a lot (and I was always late returning it, and getting fined).

That's one of the reasons I'm writing this; the memories that seemed of stone are weathering away, featureless. I used to remember exactly how many times I read a particular book or trilogy (I also used to remember how many times I saw Star Wars in the theatre when it came out).

Anyway, I don't think The Runaway Robot started my love of science-fiction. I was also reading some old sci-fi novels my father had on a shelf, that date back even further. It was most likely 2001, Close Encounters, and of course Star Trek and Star Wars that really got me into sci-fi. Then there were the fantasy movies that got me into reading fantasy; I don't think I really separated the two categories then, and I still don't. The term speculative fiction might be most accurate, but I just think of it as sci-fi and fantasy, or sometimes sff, if I think of it in labels at all. Its just where I feel at home.

I'm never going back to that old town or library (long since remodeled, the book is probably gone anyway), but I easily found and bought a copy on Amazon. Thank you, internet, for helping me even as I'm trying to avoid you somewhat.

The cover seems exactly as I remember it. The pages are yellow, and there's some funny smells coming off it; mostly it just smells old. Its published by Scholastic Book Services, so its probably pre young adult fiction, but I will try and keep an open mind.

back to books

I've been meaning to return to regularly reading books for years now, but it took an extended power outage to make it happen. I used to read constantly, and from an early age; it used to be a self-defining trait. I got detention once for reading in class, hiding the book under my desk; I went to detention and just kept on reading. And I still have many of those books, in boxes in the attic.

I stopped reading books when I found the internet in the early 90s. I read more now than ever, but the books were sacrificed along the way. It goes without saying that I'm missing out on something. There are the old classics that I have now become unfamiliar with; I miss them like long-lost acquaintances. And I keep hearing about great new books, and I know I am missing something new.

I mostly read science fiction and fantasy. Sometimes I would venture into some other genre, but I always came back. For years a person could be fascinated with computers and work with them a lot and there was no major conflict between computer time and book time. Then the internet came, and demanded all of my time, and I gladly handed it over. I'm not sure I got much out of the trade.

I hoarded books - it didn't occur to me to get rid of any of them. Partially because I would re-read some of the classics over and over, but I even kept the bad ones I knew I wouldn't read again. Like some people, I believe a book once started must be finished. And having finished it, the book acquired some value it may not actually deserve (just because I read it), and so I kept it. I have a lot of books that should really be passed on.

It would be nice to have a bookshelf of just my favorites, and nothing else. But then there's ebooks - why accumulate dead trees when I can keep the bookshelf in my reader? It will probably be a hybrid for a while, and there are some books I'll probably take to the grave. The purpose of this blog is not just to document my quest to read good books again (and hopefully thereby actualize it), but to help me restore my bookshelf, virtual or otherwise, and decide what deserves to live there.