#retro scifi

[retro-scifi-and-fantasy-art]

Syd Mead (American, 1933-2019) - Blade Runner concept art

[the-watcher-in-the-sky]

Bruce Pennington

[elf-trash]

seriously though why isn't the Vorkosigan Saga more popular/well known in the sci fi canon?? it's shockingly ahead of its time, has brilliant world-building, some of the most compelling characters I've ever encountered in literature, and excellent top tier prose and plotting. it brilliantly tackles themes of gender, disability, politics, and family dynamics and has romance, action, mystery, intrigue, and did I mention incredible world-building??

it's like Game of Thrones meets Star Trek meets The Expanse meets Regency romance. it's incredible.

if you haven't heard of this AMAZING series by Lois McMaster Bujold, run don't walk and go read it immediately!!!!

also, fun fact, Lois Bujold got her start writing fanfic for Star Trek fanzines, which REALLY makes sense when you look at the content of her writing lol

the series wasn't written chronologically but it's definitely best to read it chronologically with one exception (which is to read Falling Free before Diplomatic Immunity).

here's my personal preferred reading order (with some notes):

Shards of Honor - 1986 start here! this book is about 33-year-old Cordelia, an astrocartographer from Beta Colony (Star Trek commie soyboy planet), and how she meets and falls in love with 44-year-old Aral Vorkosigan, a general from Barrayar (military aristocracy feudalism planet)

Barrayar - 1991 continues the story of Cordelia and Aral's romance, with many complications

The Warrior’s Apprentice - 1986 from this book onwards, the protagonist of the series shifts to Miles, Cordelia and Aral's disabled son. I was bracing myself for this switch because I was so attached to Cordelia, but 17-year-old Miles immediately jumps off the page here and quickly became one of my all time favorite literary characters. he's a disabled nepo baby from an extremely prejudiced and ableist society who may or may not have inspired Tyrion Lannister. he's incredible, character of all time, no notes

The Mountains of Mourning (novella) - 1989 this one is a novella that is part of The Borders of Infinity, which is a framing device for 3 novellas. the framing part of the book is set after Brothers in Arms, but I recommend reading each individual novella as it falls chronologically and then going back and reading the framing sections later

The Vor Game - 1990 Miles is 20 now

Cetaganda - 1995 a fun murder mystery starring 22-year-old Miles

Ethan of Athos - 1986 this book is somewhat of a detour because Miles isn't in it, but it heavily features a character who later becomes his girlfriend. it's set concurrently to Cetaganda

Labyrinth (novella) - 1989 another novella from Borders of Infinity which introduces Taura, a character who becomes very important to Miles

The Borders of Infinity (novella) - 1987 the final novella from the Borders of Infinity. it goes here chronologically. the framing device is technically set after Brothers in Arms, but it's fine to read here too if you want

Brothers in Arms - 1989 Miles goes to Earth in this one! kudos to Lois for pulling off one of my least favorite plot devices here (a secret clone) and making it an incredible and heart-breaking exploration of identity and character

Mirror Dance - 1994 this book is probably one of the best in the whole series. Lois was really cooking with this one! split POV between Miles and his clone brother, Mark

Memory - 1996 this book is a little quieter than the previous ones, but in a really good way

Komarr - 1998 introduces Miles primary love interest, Ekaterin, and splits POV between her and Miles. they're both 30 here

A Civil Campaign - 1999 this one is like, a classic Shakespearean comedy in terms of structure. apparently it was inspired by Regency romance. it's absolutely incredible and one of my favorites in the series

Winterfair Gifts (short story) - 2004 Miles and Ekaterin's wedding, told from the POV of one of their armsmen. sort of a Christmas special but in a good way!

Falling Free - 1988 another detour. this book is actually set 200 years before the events of the series, but it tells the origin story of the Quaddies and is relevant to Diplomatic Immunity, hence why I suggest reading it here

Diplomatic Immunity - 2002 32-year-old Miles and his wife untangle a diplomatic crisis with the Quaddies

Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance - 2012 told from the POV of Miles' cousin Ivan

The Flowers of Vashnoi (novella) - 2018 a novella about Ekaterin, Miles' wife

Cryoburn - 2010 get ready to WEEP

Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen - 2016 we're back in Cordelia's POV for this one. lots of spicy revelations about her and Aral's marriage (including a space throuple)!!!! we love to see it!!!

I read this series so insanely fast, like I was quite literally blasting through one book a day (each book is around 300 pages so it's not as crazy as it sounds), but that's honestly how good they are.

every single book has at least one moment that made me stop short and really think about my life. I would say the whole series is kind of a meditation on the concept of honor. and also gender issues and disability politics. some of the gender terminology is dated, but the sentiments are extremely forward-thinking, especially considering when these books were largely written. as I mentioned, the main character is disabled, and there are MANY queer and gender non-conforming characters throughout the series!

if you like Ursula LeGuin, you'll probably enjoy these! honestly surprised Bujold isn't as well-known/highly regarded as LeGuin, because imo they're very similar and very comparable!!!

again, run don't walk!!! these books need to be more popular so they get reprinted and I can buy a box set!!!! there should be an HBO show!!!!

[scifiblast]

Jack Gaughan Fantasy Art

[vintage-tigre]

In the living room the voice-clock sang, Tick-tock, seven o'clock, time to get up, time to get up, seven o'clock! As if it were afraid that nobody would.

Seven-nine, breakfast time, seven-nine!

In the kitchen the breakfast stove ejected eight pieces of perfectly browned toast, eight eggs sunnyside up, sixteen slices of bacon, two coffees, and two cool glasses of milk.

"Today is August 4, 2026, the city of Allendale, California."

Somewhere in the walls, relays clicked, memory tapes glided under electric eyes.

""Eight-one, tick-tock, eight-one o'clock, off to school, off to work, run, run, eight-one!" But no doors slammed.

It was raining outside. The weather box on the front door sang quietly: "Rain, rain, go away; rubbers, raincoats for today..."

Outside, the garage chimed and lifted its door to reveal the waiting car.

After a long wait the door swung down again.

At eight-thirty the eggs were shriveled and the toast was like stone. An aluminum wedge scraped them into the sink. The dirty dishes were dropped into a hot washer and emerged twinkling dry.

"Nine-fifteen," sang the clock, "time to clean."

Tiny robot mice thudded against chairs, whirling their mustached runners, Kneading the rug nap, sucking gently at hidden dust. Then, they popped into their burrows. The house was clean.

"Ten o'clock." The sun came out from behind the rain. The house stood alone in a city of rubble and ashes. This was the one house left standing. At night the ruined city gave off a radioactive glow which could be seen for miles.

"Ten-fifteen." The garden sprinklers pelted the windowpanes,

running down the charred west side where the house had been burned evenly free of its white paint. The entire west face of the house was black, save for five places. Here the silhouette in paint of a man mowing a lawn. Here, as in a photograph, a woman bent to pick flowers. Still farther over, their images burned on wood in one titanic instant, a small boy, hands flung into the air; higher up, the image of a thrown ball, and opposite him a girl, hand raised to catch a ball which never came down.

The five spots of paint - the man, the woman, the children, the ball -

remained. The rest was a think charcoaled layer.

"Twelve noon."

A dog whined on the front porch.

The front door recognized the dog voice and opened. The dog, once huge and fleshy, but now gone to bone and covered with sores, moved in and through the house, tracking mud.

The dog frothed at the mouth, ran wildly in circles, biting at its tail, spun in a frenzy, and died. It lay in the parlor for an hour.

"Two-fifteen."

The dog was gone.

In the cellar, the incinerator glowed suddenly and a whirl of sparks leaped up the chimney.

"Two thirty-five."

Bridge tables sprouted from patio walls.

Playing cards fluttered. Martinis manifested while music played.

But the tables were silent and the cards untouched.

At four o'clock the tables folded back through the paneled walls. "Four-thirty."

The nursery walls glowed.

Animals took shape: yellow giraffes, blue lions, pink antelopes, lilac panthers. Hidden films clocked through well-oiled sprockets, and the glas walls lived. It was the children's hour.

"Six, seven, eight o'clock." The dinner dishes manipulated like magic

tricks, and in the study a click.

"Nine-five." A voice spoke from the study ceiling:

"Mrs. McClellan, which poem would you like this evening?"

The house was silent.

The voice said at last,

"Since you express no preference, I shall select a poem at random."

"Sara Teasdale. As I recall, your favorite...

"There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done,

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.

At ten o'clock a falling tree bough crashed through the kitchen window shattering cleaning solvent over the stove. The room was ablaze in an instant.

"Fire!" screamed a voice. Water pumps shot water from the ceilings while the voices took it up in chorus: "Fire, fire, fire!"

The house tried to save itself, but the wind blew and sucked upon the fire.

Scurrying water rats pistoled their water, and ran for more. And the wall sprays let down showers of mechanical rain.

But too late. The quenching rain ceased.

The reserve water supply which had filled baths and washed dishes for many quiet days was gone.

From attic trapdoors gushed a green chemical.

But the fire was clever. It had sent flames outside the house, up through The attic to the pumps there. An explosion! The attic brain which directed the pumps was shattered.

The house shuddered, its bared skeleton cringing from the heat. And the voices wailed, "Fire, fire, run, run," like a tragic nursery rhyme, a dozen voices, high, low. One, two, three, four, five voices died.

Other choruses could be heard announcing the time, playing music, or cutting the lawn by remote-control mower. A scene of maniac confusion, yet unity; singing, screaming, and one voice, read poetry aloud in the firey study, until all the film spools burned.

In the kitchen the stove could be seen making breakfasts at a psychopathic rate, ten dozen eggs, six loaves of toast, twenty dozen bacon strips, which eaten by the fire, started the stove working again, hysterically hissing!

The crash. The attic smashing into kitchen and parlor. The parlor into cellar, cellar into sub-cellar.

Smoke and silence.

Among the ruins, one wall stood alone.

Within the wall, a last voice said,

over and over, "Today is August 5, 2026, today is August 5, 2026, today is ...”

[un-x]

One of my favorite retro pixel art tropes, the neon wireframe or schematic look, comes straight from the Tektronix 4010, a 1970s CAD computer whose vector display could draw permanently to the screen without using memory, enabling extremely high resolution line graphics.

[fear-planet]

GODZILLA by Noriyoshi Ohrai

[pomegranate-drift]

Sci-fi illustrations from 70s Yugoslavia, Nikolai Lutohin (Russian Artist)