The Optical Unconscious is a pointed protest against the official story of modernism and against the critical tradition that attempted to define modern art according to certain sacred commandments and self-fulfilling truths. The account of modernism presented here challenges the vaunted principle of "vision itself." And it is a very different story than we have ever read, not only because its insurgent plot and characters rise from below the calm surface of the known and law-like field of modernist painting, but because the voice is unlike anything we have heard before. Just as the artists of the optical unconscious assaulted the idea of autonomy and visual mastery, Rosalind Krauss abandons the historian's voice of objective detachment and forges a new style of writing in this book: art history that insinuates diary and art theory, and that has the gait and tone of fiction. The Optical Unconscious will be deeply vexing to modernism's standard-bearers, and to readers who have accepted the foundational principles on which their aesthetic is based. Krauss also gives us the story that Alfred Barr, Meyer Shapiro, and Clement Greenberg repressed, the story of a small, disparate group of artists who defied modernism's most cherished self-descriptions, giving rise to an unruly, disruptive force that persistently haunted the field of modernism from the 1920s to the 1950s and continues to disrupt it today. In order to understand why modernism had to repress the optical unconscious, Krauss eavesdrops on Roger Fry in the salons of Bloomsbury, and spies on the toddler John Ruskin as he amuses himself with the patterns of a rug; we find her in the living room of Clement Greenberg as he complains about "smart Jewish girls with their typewriters" in the 1960s, and in colloquy with Michael Fried about Frank Stella's love of baseball. Along the way, there are also narrative encounters with Freud, Jacques Lacan, Georges Bataille, Roger Caillois, Gilles Deleuze, and Jean-Francois Lyotard. To embody this optical unconscious, Krauss turns to the pages of Max Ernst's collage novels, to Marcel Duchamp's hypnotic Rotoreliefs, to Eva Hesse's luminous sculptures, and to Cy Twombly's, Andy Warhol's, and Robert Morris's scandalous decoding of Jackson Pollock's drip pictures as "Anti-Form." These artists introduced a new set of values into the field of twentieth-century art, offering ready-made images of obsessional fantasy in place of modernism's intentionality and unexamined compulsions. Rosalind Krauss is Professor of Art History at Columbia University and an editor of the journal October.

Dive into a compelling work of literary criticism with "Drug themes in science fiction" by the esteemed Robert Silverberg. This authoritative volume offers a meticulous exploration and comprehensive bibliography of drug-related themes across speculative fiction. Silverberg, a master of the genre, insightfully examines the diverse ways drugs-real and imagined-have been portrayed within American and English science fiction. From their roles in societal commentary to their impact on individual characters and narrative progression, this book uncovers the profound and often complex presence of psychoactive substances in literary imagination. It serves as both a critical analysis of recurring motifs and an invaluable reference for anyone researching the genre. For readers captivated by literary themes, the history of science fiction, or the enduring dialogue between human experience and altered states of consciousness, "Drug themes in science fiction" provides an essential, detailed, and timeless perspective on a fascinating corner of literature. This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.

Could an alien organism really survive a centuries-long trip on a meteor and remain virulent enough to attack a human being? How would a scientist know she was peering at a microbe from another planet? What's the possibility of a genetically mutated monster actually developing? In a gripping exploration of the facts behind the science fiction that has enthralled millions of X-philes, Anne Simon -- the respected virologist who comes up with the science for many intriguing episodes -- discusses telomeres, cloning, the Hayflick limit, nanotechnology, endosymbionts, lentiviruses, and other strange phenomena that have challenged the intellect and threatened the lives and sanity of America's favorite FBI agents. With Simon's extraordinary gift for explaining complicated, cutting-edge science in a light, accessible style, and her behind-the-scenes commentary on the development of various plot lines, The Real Science Behind the X-Files will appeal to science buffs and X-Files aficionados alike.

As the title Jar Jar Binks Must Die indicates, Daniel M. Kimmel is not only a film critic with strong opinions, he's also a fan. In this collection of essays, he covers movies from Metropolis (1927), answering the absurd claim that the restoration of this silent classic negated its status as a science fiction film, to how Star Trek, Avatar, Moon, and District 9 may have made 2009 a "miracle year" for the genre. Along the way he looks at neglected works like Things to Come (1936), explains why remakes aren't always bad, and how seeing E.T. in an empty screening room changed his mind about Steven Spielberg. Whether to rediscover old favorites or add new titles to your Netflix queue, this is a must-have for lovers of SF movies. Author Bio Daniel M. Kimmel is a past president of the Boston Society of Film Critics. When it was discovered he is also a science fiction fan he started getting invitations to participate at a number of SF conventions, which he continues to do. He reviewed for the Worcester Telegram and Gazette and now writes for Northshoremovies.net. He is a correspondent for Variety, the "Movie Maven" for the Jewish Advocate and teaches film--including a course on SF and horror--at Suffolk University. His essays on classic science films have appeared in several publications including Clarkesworld, Space and Time, and the Internet Review of Science Fiction. He is the author of a history of FOX TV, The Fourth Network (2004) which received the Cable Center Book Award. His other books include a history of DreamWorks, The Dream Team (2006) and I'll Have What She's Having: Behind the Scenes of the Great Romantic Comedies (2008). He is also the author of three novels: Shh! It's a Secret: a novel about Aliens, Hollywood, and the Bartender's Guide (2013) Time On My Hands: My Misadventures In Time Travel (2017), and Father of the Bride of Frankenstein (2019).

This follow-up to Ellison's 1989 Stoker Award-winning book of film (and by extension, cultural) criticism picks up precisely where its predecessor left off: with the 35th installment-dated July 1989-of his column in THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY & SCIENCE FICTION, and continues through his 50th entry, written for this volume in September 2014. But wait, there's more: buy now, and at no extra cost, you'll get three pieces of twenty-first century film criticism bringing the collection bang -up-to-date, as well as a long-lost assessment of PSYCHO that predates even the 1965 entries in HARLAN ELLISON'S WATCHING; if that's not value for money, we don't know what is. Did I mention the stunning Overton Loyd cover? The Harlan Ellison's Watching columns included are: From 1989: Installment 35: In Which the Phantasmagorical Pales Before the Joys of the Mimetic Installment 36: In Which, Darkly and Deliciously, We Travel From Metropolis to Metropolis, Two Different Cities, Both Ominous Installment 37: In Which Not Only is No Answer Given, But No One Seems to Know the Question to Ask Installment 38: In Which, Though Manipulated, We Acknowledge That Which All Men Seek From 1990: Installment 39: In Which We Hum a Merry Tune While Waiting for New Horrors, New Horrors Installment 40: In Which We Scrutinize the Sedulousness to Their Hippocratic Oath of Troglodytic, Blue, Alien Proctologists Installment 41: In Which an Extremely Nervous Fool with His Credentials Taped to His Forehead Tacks Trepidatiously Between Scylla and Charybdis Knowing that Angels and Wise Men Would Fear Even to Dog-Paddle This Route Installment 42: In Which It Waddles Like a Duck, Sheds Water Like a Duck, and Goes Steady With Ducks, But Turns Out to be a Tortoise Installment 43: In Which We Lament, "There Goes the Neighborhood " Installment 44: In Which the Good Ship Coat-Tail-Ride Sinks, Abandoning Hundreds in Treacherous Waters From 1991: Installment 45: In Which Tempus Fidgets, Fugits, and Inevitably Omnia Revelats Installment 46: In Which We Bend So Far Over Backwards To Be Unbiased That You Can See The Nose Hairs Quiver With Righteousness Installment 47: In Which Artful Vamping Saves the Publisher $94.98 From 1994: Installment 48: In Which the Wee Child's Icons are Demeaned From 1995: Installment 49: In Which the Old Man of the Sea Bites the Head off Yet Another Chicken From 2014: Installment 50: In Which the Playroom of the Prodigal Gives One Last Gasp Pre-dating Ellison's column in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, ENDLESSLY WATCHING collects a review of PSYCHO from a 1960 fanzine, 1974's "Total Impact: THE TERMINAL MAN," and Ellison's 1966 treatise on terror: "3 Faces of Fear," making its debut in a non-fiction Ellison collection. Bridging the nearly two decades between Watching columns are: 2007's "I Saw GHOST RIDER Today at the Galleria," and 2013's review of 12 YEARS A SLAVE and "Death to All Hollywood Award Shows " As an added bonus, we've exhumed two unpublished reviews...or, rather, one unpublished review of BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA and an unpublished refusal to review HONEY, I BLEW UP THE BABY.

American architect Morris Lapidus is best known as the designer of glamorous postwar resort hotels in Florida, such as the Fontainebleau (1954) and the Eden Roc (1955) in Miami Beach, and the Americana in Bal Harbour (1956). Yet in a remarkable sixty-year career that began in 1926, he designed more than 500 retail stores, hotels, apartment complexes, and stage sets that captured the popular spirit and changing face of Main Street America in the twentieth century. Lapidus created fantasy environments in which America's middle class, flush with expanding postwar incomes and optimism, could fulfill its desire for glamor, relaxed luxury, and leisure. His signature forms - chevrons, "beanpoles," "woggles," or amoeba shapes, and curving walls and ceilings punctuated by "cheese holes," or cutouts - have become treasured icons of American postwar vernacular architecture. Born in Russia in 1902, Lapidus was brought to New York by his parents a year later, and the family first settled on the Lower East Side. He completed his architecture degree at Columbia University and first earned a reputation by designing stage sets and retail stores in which he developed new theories in store design and essentially created the modern storefront as we now know it. For his famed resort hotels of the 1950s Lapidus designed not only the vast structures but a melange of quasi-French provincial and Italian Renaissance decorative elements that critics would dub "Miami Beach French," including everything from the tableware to his famous "stairways to nowhere." He was one of the first architects to acknowledge the cinema as an overriding influence on American taste.

A collection of columns originally published in various magazines between 1973 and 1997 discusses science fiction, science and society, the profession of writing, and other writers

In 1959, at the age of 22, Joanna Russ published her first science fiction story, “Nor Custom Stale,” in The Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy. In the forty-five years since, Russ has continued to write some of the most popular, creative, and important novels and stories in science fiction. She was a central figure, along with contemporaries Ursula K. Le Guin and James Tiptree, in revolutionizing science fiction in the 1960s and 1970s, and her 1970 novel The Female Man is widely regarded as one of the most successful and influential depictions of a feminist utopia in the entire genre. The Country You Have Never Seen gathers Joanna Russ’s most important essays and reviews, revealing the vital part she played over the years in the never-ending conversation among writers and fans about the roles, boundaries, and potential of science fiction. Spanning her entire career, the collection shines a light on Russ’s role in the development of new wave science fiction and feminist science fiction, while at the same time providing fascinating insight into her own development as a writer.

In this major survey of theoretical aspects and contemporary authors of science fiction, one of its foremost investigators argues for a radically new approach. For Darko Suvin, science fiction writings are neither prophecy nor the folklore of technology, but at their best parables for our times. Suvin lays the foundations for understanding their narrative logic and ideological horizons, and then examines a crucial group of modern authors. These comprise the diverging stances of Asimov, Le Guin, and Dick in the USA, Yefremov and the Strugatskys in the USSR, and Lem and the Brauns in Central Europe. The book culminates in a discussion of science fiction as metaphor, applied to a text by Cordwainer Smith as the bad conscience of Reaganism.