Har lige læst Arthur C. Clarkes Astounding Days fra 1989. Undertitlen “A Science Fictional Autobiography” dækker over, at Clarke tager afsæt i sin ungdoms læsning af SF-magasiner såsom Astounding: Han er simpelthen dykket ned i de gamle blade igen og bruger historierne som udgangspunkt for anekdoter om sit liv, bekendtskaber, andre forfattere – eller hvad den enkelte historie nu lige giver anledning til at mindes. Det er en sjov model for en selvbiografi, velegnet hvis man ikke orker den store forkromede kronologiske gennemgang.
I kapitel 29 forener Clarke adskillige personer fra min interessesfære i et kapitel om Wernher von Braun:
Those who knew him only from TV appearances, or identified him with Dr Strangelove,* may be surprised to know that he was full of fun and had a great sense of humour – though it was once tested to the breaking point at a party where some tactless person played Tom Lehrer’s brilliant song, with its satirical refrain
If the rocket goes up, who cares vhere it comes down?
That’s not my department, says Wernher von Braun
Clarke citerer vist linjerne en anelse forkert, men ikke på meningsforstyrrende måde. Stjernen efter “Strangelove” henviser til denne fodnote:
Stanley Kubrick once said to me, “Tell Wernher I wasn’t getting at him.” I never did, because (a) I didn’t believe it (b) even if Stanley wasn’t, Peter Sellers certainly was.
Og til slut:
Finally, although it is a painful subject (recently reopened by the declassification of the “Paperclip” files) I do not believe I am doing a disservice to the memory of a good friend, if I close this chapter with words which, for the sake of Truth and History, I believe he would have wished to have on record:
“No – I never knew what was happening in the concentraion camps. But I suspected it, and in my position I could have found out. I didn’t, and I despise myself for it.”
Tankevækkende, på flere måder.
En anden fodnote i bogen fortæller os at “cybersquatting”-fænomenet havde en forløber hundrede år før internettet:
There was once a popular English literary journal called The Nineteenth Century. As the crucial year 1901 approached, the editor was annoyed to find that some cultured kidnapper had registered the title The Twentieth Century and was holding it to ransom.
He was out of luck. The magazine became The Nineteenth Century – and After.
I det højst usandsynlige tilfælde at jeg selv nogensinde skulle skrive en selvbiografi, tror jeg jeg ville vælge et lignende uforpligtende format, som det Clarke benytter her. Jeg kan godt lide den flyvske hoppen omkring, med de uventede associationer og småopdagelser der følger med. Som Clarke også skriver:
The chief pleasure of browsing lies in the unexpected discoveries one makes – I would use the word “serendipitous”, if ti wasn’t so badly overworked, and my Wordstar Dictionary knew how to spell it.
Jeg havde ikke hørt om bogen, før jeg fandt den i et antikvariat for nylig. Jeg nævnte for antikvarboghandleren, at jeg som teenager skrev et fanbrev til Clarke og fik et svar. Da jeg forlod butikken en halv times tid senere, sagde han at han var glad for, at det var mig der købte bogen, for “en del af det at drive et antikvariat er at sørge for at bøgerne får et godt hjem”. Det er en boghandler efter mit hoved!
