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Jack Vance

Jack Vance Biography

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“Alexei has created a language of a hundred and twelve thousand words controlled by an elaborate syntax. It is a pity that no one can enjoy it along with Alexei, but he refuses to translate a single word. He has been accused of both narcissism and ostentation, but he is never offended. It is the typical artist, so he declares, who is mad for acclaim and whose self-esteem depends upon adulation. Alexei sees himself as a lonely man, indifferent to both praise and censure.” Wayness craned her neck. “He is now playing the concertina and dancing a jig, all at the same time. What do you make of that?” “It is just Alexei in one of his moods; it means nothing.”

ArtPoetryLanguageLonelinessDignityArtistry
Book:Ecce and Old Earth
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“Star-watching: at night the stars of Alastor Cluster blaze in profusion. The atmosphere refracts their light; the sky quivers with beams, glitters, and errant flashes. The Trills go out into their gardens with jugs of wine; they name the stars and discusses localities. For the Trills, for almost anyone of Alastor, the night sky was no abstract empyrean, but rather a view across prodigious distances to known places: a vast luminous map.”

Stars
Book:Trullion: Alastor 2262
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“During the months of winter and spring King Casmir looked only twice at the infant princess, in each case, standing back in cool disinterest. She had thwarted his royal will by coming female into the world. He could not immediately punish her for the act, no more could he extend the full beneficence of his favor. Sollace grew sulky because Casmir was displeased and, with a set petulant flourishes, banished the child from her sight. Ehirme, a raw-boned peasant girl, and nice to under-gardener, had lost her own infant son to the yellow bloat. With an amplitude of both milk and solitude she be came Suldron's wet-nurse”

FemaleParentsRoyaltyDissapointment
Book:Suldrun's Garden
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“First coming aboard, a new arrival makes a cautious survey of the crew, trying to winnow the affable and good-natured from the surly and truculent. Some of the crewmen will seem easygoing, happy-go-lucky, good-fellows-all; others may appear to be reserved or even aloof. Yet I found that at the end of a voyage these aloof ones were often the persons whom I grew to like and respect the most, while those who seemed so agreeable turned out to be rascals.”

RelationshipsFriendshipColleaguesNew FriendsWariness
Book:This Is Me, Jack Vance!: Or, More Properly, This Is "I"
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“The woman behind the bar called out: ‘Why do you stand like hypnotized fish? Did you come to drink beer or to eat food?’ ‘Be patient,’ said Gersen. ‘We are making our decision.’ The remark annoyed the woman. Her voice took on a coarse edge. “Be patient,’ you say? All night I pour beer for crapulous men; isn’t that patience enough? Come over here, backwards; I’ll put this spigot somewhere amazing, at full gush, and then we’ll discover who calls for patience!”

HumourAggressionPubBarmaid
Book:The Face
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“Glawen alighted, removed his luggage from the bin while Maxen sat drumming his fingers on the wheel. Glawen paid the standard fee, which Maxen accepted with raised eyebrows. “And the gratuity?” Glawen slowly turned to stare into the driver’s compartment. “Did you help me load my luggage?” “No, but -” “Did you help me unload it?” “By the same token -” “Did you not tell me that I was inbred and eccentric, and probably weak-minded?” “That was a joke.” “Now can you guess the location of your gratuity?” “Yes. Nowhere.” “Quite right.” “Hoity-toity!” murmured Maxen, and drove quickly away, elbows stylishly high.”

HumourDriversTippingTaxis
Book:Araminta Station
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“You are sauntering along the back streets of Avallon; you step into a tavern for a cup of wine. A great lummox claims that you have molested his wife; he takes up his cutlass and comes at you. So now! With your knife! Draw and throw! All in a single movement! You advance, pull your knife from the villain's neck, wipe it on his sleeve. If in fact you have molested the dead churl's wife, bid her begone! The episode has quite dampened your spirit. But you are attacked from another side by another husband. Quick!”

HumourAdulteryKnife Throwing
Book:Suldrun's Garden
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“While Milke gingerly carried the packet of explosive across the lake, Paskell stood by the port watching. Milke surveyed the landscape with fine calculation, setting down the packet, moving it a few yards to the right, another few yards toward the defile. Finally satisfied, he looked back to Paskell for approval. Paskell signaled casually, and his hand fell against the detonation switch. He looked out toward Milke, hastily jumped into his [pressure] suit, let himself through the port, ran across the lake. Milke asked, "What's the trouble?" Paskell said, "That remote detonator doesn't work. I'd better take a look at it." Milke stared at him truculently. "How do you know it doesn't work?" Paskell made a vague gesture, knelt beside the packet, unfolded the wrapping. "You couldn't have just sensed it," Milke insisted. "Well, as a matter of fact, my hand accidentally hit the switch, and it didn't go off—so I though I'd better run out and see what was wrong." Milke seemed to sink in his suit. For a moment there was silence. "Ah," said Paskell. "Nothing very serious; I neglected to clip down the battery leads . . . .now it's ready to go—" "I'm going back to the ship," said Milke thickly.”

Near DeathBlack HumorProspecting1953BumblingPusillanimityThree Legged Joe
Book:The Augmented Agent and Other Stories
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“The space age is thirty thousand years old. Men have moved from star to star in search of wealth and glory; the Gaean Reach encompasses a perceptible fraction of the galaxy. Trade routes thread space like capillaries in living tissue; thousands of worlds have been colonized, each different from every other, each working its specific change upon men who live there. Never has the human race been less homogenous.”

Science FictionFuture HistoryGaean Reach
Book:The Gray Prince
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