[a small but possible deal-breaking spoiler …]
© 1975 by Ron Goulart
Ah, the dangers of re-reading those beloved books of youth.
When I was young and stupid and read for this simple, innocent love of hopping into a different universe for a couple of days, no matter how dystopic, I was riveted by this guy. Ron Goulart. Not exactly a household name, but over the years he’s managed to write almost two hundred books, mostly SF but some mysteries with movie and serial novelizations here and there. Synchronistically, he wrote the book based on the film Capricorn One which I just watched. He’s also known as the ghost writer for all those Bill Shatner SF books, but I haven’t read a single one of those.
In the 1970s, the four or five science fiction shelves at my local library seemed stocked with Ron Goulart books. There’s at least four of them I can sort-of visualize. All hardcover, all about 150 pages or so, all with extremely 1970s futuristic cover art: a combination of psychedelia and cut-and-paste graphic art. I read ’em all and loved ’em all. Since I now know they were a lightweight pastiche of Me-Generation social commentary, film noir gumshoe characterizations, and some light free-love-type stuff, with robot butlers and robot dogs and a corrupt America in decline, I realize I understood little of what I read. But I sure dug those robot butlers and robot dogs.
So, I found The Hellhound Project at my local library a few weeks ago and decided to read it for nostalgia’s sake.
Verdict: A quick read, but not a good one. As an adult, I found a hollow and shallow and ultimately shoulder-shrugging “who cares?” attitude towards this hellish wonderland that fascinated me as a kid.
Could be I had overly optimistic expectations going in. Probably one of the reasons I’m leery about re-reading The Lord of the Rings. Someone, I think it was Borges, said you could never read a poem the same way twice. The same goes for a book, I suppose. You can never recapture the magic. But I don’t know if I necessarily agree with that. As a film buff, I know you can certainly watch a movie more than once and each time come back with something new, something fresh, and even something greater. Try watching a Hitchcock, Orson Welles or even a John Wayne movie or, better yet, one of them ’50s SF classics two or three times and see if this doesn’t ring true.
Yeah, sometimes a re-read of an endearing book from youth can bring about the new, fresh, greater. I found this in my second go-round with The Silmarillion. Similarly with The Spinner, A Generation Removed, Red Planet, Conquerors From the Darkness, Lord Foul’s Bane, just to name a few off the top of my head, and even more so with the books and stories of Ray Bradbury. So, it’s not unreasonable to expect the magic again.
With The Hellhound Project, though, not so much.
Briefly, it tells the story of one Thad McIntosh, a down-on-his-luck drifter in a pre-Escape From New York Manhattan. An undercover revolutionary group recruits him to impersonate a cryogenically-frozen industrialist whose family business is developing an insidious weapon called the Hellhound for the corrupt American presidential administration. Thad must prove he is who he says he is while surviving what may or may not be assassination attempts to get to the bottom of this weapons project.
I really didn’t remember the premise of the book but I did remember its name and title, and that I was enamored with it around, oh, fifth grade or so. The Hellhound Project is an awesome name, even if you’re not a ten-year-old boy. Now I know what the word hellhound refers to, but back then it just sounded cool. As an adult I thought it was something like a robotic dog-like creature, with fangs dripping with some man-made poison, something that possibly flew, but it hunted you down relentlessly and mercilessly. (I even wrote a short story called XIKN twenty-five years later based on that vision.)
Suffice it to say that Thad ultimately finds himself a frantic target for the Hellhound.
I was disappointed to learn that this book, read by a ten-year-old, was basically aimed at a ten-year-old. Not always the case with the stuff I read as a youth. Everything kinda let me down. Not Goulart’s fault, per se. The book is good for what it is: a developed short story, written tightly and succinctly so that not a single unnecessary word is there. Ideas are put forward, but not to be explored, only to push the story further. It’s one of those works where it’s SF simply because that’s where the author wanted to put the story. It could’ve been written in other genres, too, I suppose. I found myself let down by what the hellhound actually was (just a bullet that was imprinted with your “brain patterns” so, once fired, it will get you, eventually).
All this is not to say I won’t re-read any further books I find by Goulart. Most of his ’70s work is out-of-print, and he’s prominently on my used book store finder’s list. But I hope the other books I track down, hellhound-like, will match up a little better with my rosy-colored memories from childhood.
© 1975 by Ron Goulart
Ah, the dangers of re-reading those beloved books of youth.
When I was young and stupid and read for this simple, innocent love of hopping into a different universe for a couple of days, no matter how dystopic, I was riveted by this guy. Ron Goulart. Not exactly a household name, but over the years he’s managed to write almost two hundred books, mostly SF but some mysteries with movie and serial novelizations here and there. Synchronistically, he wrote the book based on the film Capricorn One which I just watched. He’s also known as the ghost writer for all those Bill Shatner SF books, but I haven’t read a single one of those.
In the 1970s, the four or five science fiction shelves at my local library seemed stocked with Ron Goulart books. There’s at least four of them I can sort-of visualize. All hardcover, all about 150 pages or so, all with extremely 1970s futuristic cover art: a combination of psychedelia and cut-and-paste graphic art. I read ’em all and loved ’em all. Since I now know they were a lightweight pastiche of Me-Generation social commentary, film noir gumshoe characterizations, and some light free-love-type stuff, with robot butlers and robot dogs and a corrupt America in decline, I realize I understood little of what I read. But I sure dug those robot butlers and robot dogs.
So, I found The Hellhound Project at my local library a few weeks ago and decided to read it for nostalgia’s sake.
Verdict: A quick read, but not a good one. As an adult, I found a hollow and shallow and ultimately shoulder-shrugging “who cares?” attitude towards this hellish wonderland that fascinated me as a kid.
Could be I had overly optimistic expectations going in. Probably one of the reasons I’m leery about re-reading The Lord of the Rings. Someone, I think it was Borges, said you could never read a poem the same way twice. The same goes for a book, I suppose. You can never recapture the magic. But I don’t know if I necessarily agree with that. As a film buff, I know you can certainly watch a movie more than once and each time come back with something new, something fresh, and even something greater. Try watching a Hitchcock, Orson Welles or even a John Wayne movie or, better yet, one of them ’50s SF classics two or three times and see if this doesn’t ring true.
Yeah, sometimes a re-read of an endearing book from youth can bring about the new, fresh, greater. I found this in my second go-round with The Silmarillion. Similarly with The Spinner, A Generation Removed, Red Planet, Conquerors From the Darkness, Lord Foul’s Bane, just to name a few off the top of my head, and even more so with the books and stories of Ray Bradbury. So, it’s not unreasonable to expect the magic again.
With The Hellhound Project, though, not so much.
Briefly, it tells the story of one Thad McIntosh, a down-on-his-luck drifter in a pre-Escape From New York Manhattan. An undercover revolutionary group recruits him to impersonate a cryogenically-frozen industrialist whose family business is developing an insidious weapon called the Hellhound for the corrupt American presidential administration. Thad must prove he is who he says he is while surviving what may or may not be assassination attempts to get to the bottom of this weapons project.
I really didn’t remember the premise of the book but I did remember its name and title, and that I was enamored with it around, oh, fifth grade or so. The Hellhound Project is an awesome name, even if you’re not a ten-year-old boy. Now I know what the word hellhound refers to, but back then it just sounded cool. As an adult I thought it was something like a robotic dog-like creature, with fangs dripping with some man-made poison, something that possibly flew, but it hunted you down relentlessly and mercilessly. (I even wrote a short story called XIKN twenty-five years later based on that vision.)
Suffice it to say that Thad ultimately finds himself a frantic target for the Hellhound.
I was disappointed to learn that this book, read by a ten-year-old, was basically aimed at a ten-year-old. Not always the case with the stuff I read as a youth. Everything kinda let me down. Not Goulart’s fault, per se. The book is good for what it is: a developed short story, written tightly and succinctly so that not a single unnecessary word is there. Ideas are put forward, but not to be explored, only to push the story further. It’s one of those works where it’s SF simply because that’s where the author wanted to put the story. It could’ve been written in other genres, too, I suppose. I found myself let down by what the hellhound actually was (just a bullet that was imprinted with your “brain patterns” so, once fired, it will get you, eventually).
All this is not to say I won’t re-read any further books I find by Goulart. Most of his ’70s work is out-of-print, and he’s prominently on my used book store finder’s list. But I hope the other books I track down, hellhound-like, will match up a little better with my rosy-colored memories from childhood.
2 comments:
Hey, The Hellhound Project is not one of my favorite books. I think at the time I was trying to prove I could be serious. I'd sent Ben Bova a novelet version and he suggested expanding it. I think I've been writing the past few years is more representative. You might look up the Groucho Marx mystery novels I did for St.Martin's up until 2005. Or check the anniversary issue of F&SF, where I have a Hollywood fantasy. Anyway, thanks for the mention. Best, Ron Goulart
Wow! I am floored! Thanks for the comment. Because of that, I think I will check out both your recommendations.
Geez, go figure ... of all the two dozen or so books I've reviewed here so far, the one that I somewhat trash (with a little bit of guilt) is read and commented on by the author!
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