I finished this book a few weeks ago but completely forgot to talk about it here. Where did I remember to talk about it? That’s for Loba to know and you to figure out.

This was a delightful find that I stumbled upon while perusing the sci-fi section of the local library. Yes, I know that I said I was going to make this year all about reading my own books. But…it’s the library. And there are so many books there. And they know my name, and they call out to me when I haven’t visited them in a while.

So, Women Writing Science Fiction as Men might sound like the most boring title imaginable for an anthology…and really, it is pretty damned boring. But that should in no way reflect poorly on the anthology itself. Edited by Mike Resnick, this collection of 16 short stories, all written by women authors, is a fascinating exercise in creativity as well as an interesting commentary on gender relations, particularly within a genre that continues to be so intrinsically male-oriented (minus sad attempts at luring women in with “space drama” a la Caprica, which now officially feels more like betrayal than entertainment).

The crux of this anthology’s challenge was this: The women who wrote the short stories had to present a sci-fi story from the perspective of a male character. And the male character had to be so decidedly male as to be irreplaceable by a female protagonist. So no gender-generic storytelling here.

Were the women who accepted this challenge successful? Well, it was definitely a mixed bag of success and failure. And even those who succeeded did so in such a way that was either completely spoofing the challenge or was somewhat foggy on the whole “male-only perspective” requirement. In fact, one writer presented a story that was narrated by a woman. I’m still not sure as to how that one slipped by, but it did.

All in all, however, this is an intriguing anthology. True, the tongue-in-cheek takes on the challenge were sometimes a bit too goofy or stereotypical in presentation, but even some of those were funny enough to be forgiven their male caricatures. Plus, several of the stories were serious attempts at tackling this challenge, and they were the ones that shone brightest among the mix. Although even those beg the question, did the women writers truly succeed at writing believably from the male perspective? Or did they simply succeed at writing as women perceive men to behave? I’d love to hear from men who read this anthology and find out what they think of these writers and their attempts at capturing the essence of “maleness” in their stories.

Final Verdict: True, this was a library book that I had to return once I was finished with it, but the first thing I did once I got home was find a copy for myself at Amazon Marketplace. Found one for 98 cents. W00ts. I also discovered that there is another anthology edited by Resnick called Men Writing Science Fiction as Women. I was pleased enough with the first anthology that I checked out the description of this one on a whim. I was sold the instant I read that Robert J. Sawyer and David Gerrold were two of the contributors, and I bought a copy of this through Marketplace as well. Was there some kind of subliminal message to be learned that the price for a used copy of this book was 25 percent more than the anthology by the women writers? Nah…

Finally. This, ladies and gentlemen, has been the bane of my reading existence for the better part of a month. And it has brought me down quite a few pegs in regard to my literary prowess. See, this is another one of those science fiction books. Not sci-fi. Oh no. Ain’t no shootin’ or beamin’ or Bajorans or Vulcans in this here book. This is hard-core nerdity of the fiercest variety. The kind that really makes you think.

Think there’s gotta be something wrong with my brain because I’m just not getting into this this book or comprehending what it’s trying to say to me. And that kind of realization doesn’t do much for one’s spirit…or self-esteem.

Truth be told, as the old saying goes, “There is no new thing under the sun.” Ursula LeGuin does not tackle anything new in her novel The Dispossessed. Her novel broaches popular sci-fi examinations of religion, societal constructs, economic systems and their varied successes and failings, sexual freedoms and mores, philosophy, socioeconomic status…the whole nine utopia vs. dystopia yards. Although it wasn’t a truly black-or-white, right-or-wrong comparison. LeGuin provides insight into the promise and pitfalls of both sides, and makes quite a compelling argument both ways. True, the bias does seem to be toward leaving behind the more capitalistic mindsets for a more “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need” attitude. But neither side is completely perfect.

The way in which LeGuin tackles these topics is wherein the strength and complexity of this novel resides. If you are looking for something light, a quick beach read or something to distract you as you ride to work in the mornings, then this is probably not the book you want. This is the book that you settle down to read, knowing that you need to give it 1,000-percent of your attention. And even then, you might have to read a passage more than once, to let it completely sink in.

Short and simple: It’s the kind of book that demands a lot from you because it gives you a lot to contemplate. You simply have to be in the proper frame of mind to want to receive what it has to give.

Truth be told, I was very rarely in the proper frame of mind for this story. It wasn’t until I was about three-quarters of the way through the book before things finally started to fall into place and I was able to jump into the story more easily. Prior to this point, each session was somewhat excruciating. Perhaps I’ve allowed my focus to wane a bit too much when it comes to meatier novels, but I found myself fighting the thought of settling into this book each night. That’s not a good place to be when approaching any kind of book. However, I am glad that I persevered. Plus, one of my favorite Star Trek characters shares his name with one of the central characters in this novel: Odo. Ironically, Odo in this novel is an anarchist. Quite the contrast to DS9’s Odo (I’m sure Quark would have preferred LeGuin’s Odo to his shape-shifting nemesis).

Final Verdict: This isn’t my book, so keep or donate isn’t an option. It goes back to its original owner. I can say this, though: This isn’t going on my wish list. Although I did finally start getting it toward the end, and although I do believe that this is the type of book that you need to read more than once, especially at different parts in your life, I simply cannot fathom putting myself through this literary endurance test again. Maybe much later down the road. But not now. Not for a very long time.