Apr. 17th, 2009

I am *finally* getting rid of a set of three books by Piers Anthony that I bought back when I was in high school (that would be 1980-1983). Back then, Anthony's racy sex-text was all the rage among the crew of nerdy SF dorks I hung out with, and I even read his other series--the one that starred Death and other mythical people. It was a cool idea that I like even today, but---

Xanth. Oh my. I dragged the first three books of that series out for another look (I'm being ruthless about winnowing my shelf space down). I've had them sitting in boxes or on my shelves for decades now. And was I...disgusted. Yes, that's one way to put it. I can see why I liked the books *then*. They were full of juvenile sex-jokes, stereotypes of women that were "funny" but I see now, weren't. In the last book I checked over, Anthony even put a twelve year old boy (in the body of a well-thewed barbarian) in sexual situations. It's all very burlesque. And after that third book in the series, I heard it went downhill even from there, and even my SF nerdy dork buddies and I wouldn't go near them. Or at least I didn't--another friend of mine read them, shook her head, and said they weren't worth the money.

I heard a well-known SF writer at a convention during the 80s was once asked, "What do you think of Piers Anthony?"  The writer replied, "He's a good typist."

(it may have been Harlan Ellison, but I'm not sure)

Anyhow, after hearing that possibly apocryphal story, my mind has stuck on that reply for years and years.

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