"The Korshak Collection is a portrait and biography of a man and his family, who once looked upon the dark skies and saw Immortals, gods hunting in the storm clouds. Stephen Korshak decided to dedicate his life to tell us all how the thunder sounded and preserve the outlines of the cosmos for the awe of us all. Enjoy, believe—be amazed." —Guillermo del Toro, from the Foreword

Icons of the Fantastic: Illustrations of Imaginative Literature from the Korshak Collection features artwork by pioneering artists from over 160 years of published works of science fiction and fantasy. The illustrations in the collection appeared on the covers of timeless novels such as the Tarzan series by Edgar Rice Burroughs and classic pulp magazines from the 1930s through 1960s, such as Amazing Stories and Weird Tales. They accompany images of mischievous satyrs, ethereal mermaids, and spell-casting witches for texts ranging from The Tempest, Don Quixote, and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland to works by Edgar Allan Poe and H. G. Wells. Alongside essays about famous illustrators such as Arthur Rackham and Aubrey Beardsley, contributors engage in a critical reassessment of understudied artists such as José Segrelles, Wladyslaw Benda, Margaret Brundage, and Hannes Bok. The book includes a foreword by Guillermo del Toro, a preface by Kevin J. Anderson, an introduction by Michael Dirda, and an interview with renowned contemporary illustration artist Michael Whelan. 
 

How the Star Wars trilogies and their fandoms have engaged with and mirrored American beliefs about race and gender.

The Star Wars saga takes place in a galaxy far, far away, but its social structures—in particular its racial realities—are thoroughly American. So argues Greg Carter in this thought-provoking analysis, which blends historical and theoretical treatments of science fiction cinema and Star Wars fandom to explore the subtle mirroring between fantasy and the communities that create and consume it.

I’d Just as Soon Kiss a Wookiee draws on insights from prominent scholars to examine fictional relationships between groups perceived to be biologically different. Three areas of commonality between the United States and Star Wars arise: stiff regulation of racial mixture; racialized servitude, with nonhumans placed in positions of bondage; and the presumption of white male supremacy. None of these are functions of the of the Star Wars story; rather, they index the expectations of US society. But expectations have also shifted since Star Wars launched in 1977, and the franchise with it. Carter gauges minority and mainstream fan reactions, finding that, while science fiction enthusiasts have a reputation for progressiveness, the truth turns out to be as complicated as US racism itself.

Imagine a world where whole epochs will pass, cultures rise and fall, between a telephone call and the reply. Think of the human race multiplying 500-million fold, or evolving new, distinct species. Consider the technology of space colonization, computer-assisted reproduction, the “Martian potato.” One hundred years after H. G. Wells visited the future in The Time Machine, Freeman Dyson marshals his uncommon gifts as a scientist and storyteller to take us once more to that ever-closer, ever-receding time to come.

Since Disturbing the Universe, the book that first brought him international renown, Freeman Dyson has been helping us see ourselves and our world from a scientist’s point of view. In Imagined Worlds he brings this perspective to a speculative future to show us where science and technology, real and imagined, may be taking us. The stories he tells—about “Napoleonic” versus “Tolstoyan” styles of doing science; the coming era of radioneurology and radiotelepathy; the works of writers from Aldous Huxley to Michael Crichton to William Blake; Samuel Gompers and the American labor movement—come from science, science fiction, and history. Sharing in the joy and gloom of these sources, Dyson seeks out the lessons we must learn from all three if we are to understand our future and guide it in hopeful directions.

Whether looking at the Gaia theory or the future of nuclear weapons, science fiction or the dangers of “science worship,” seagoing kayaks or the Pluto Express, Dyson is concerned with ethics, with how we might mitigate the evil consequences of technology and enhance the good. At the heart of it all is the belief once expressed by the biologist J. B. S. Haldane, that progress in science will bring enormous confusion and misery to humankind unless it is accompanied by progress in ethics.