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The Man Who Had No Idea
The Man Who Had No Idea (1978)The Black Cat (1976)The Santa Claus Compromise (1974)The Vengeance of Hera or, Monogamy Triumphant (1980)Concepts (1978)The Apartment Next to the War (1975)The Foetus (1980)The Fire Began to Burn the Stick, the Stick Began to Beat the Dog (1976)At the Pleasure Centre (1974)The Grown-Up (1981)How to Fly (1977)Planet of the Rapes (1977)The Revelation (1980)Pyramids for Minnesota (1974)Josie and the A Cautionary Tale (1980)An Italian Lesson (1982)Understanding Human Behavior (1982)
186 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1982
About the author
Thomas M. Disch
378 books321 followersThomas Michael Disch was an American science fiction writer and poet. He won the Hugo Award for Best Related Book—previously called "Best Non-Fiction Book"—in 1999. He had two other Hugo nominations and nine Nebula Award nominations to his credit, plus one win of the John W. Campbell Memorial Award, a Rhysling Award, and two Seiun Awards, among others.
His writing includes substantial periodical work, such as regular book and theater reviews for The Nation, The Weekly Standard, Harper's, The Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, The Times Literary Supplement, and Entertainment Weekly.
As a fiction writer and a poet, Disch felt typecast by his science fiction roots. "I have a class theory of literature. I come from the wrong neighborhood to sell to The New Yorker. No matter how good I am as an artist, they always can smell where I come from".
Following an extended period of depression after the death in 2005 of his life-partner, Charles Naylor, Disch stopped writing almost entirely, except for poetry and blog entries, although he did produce two novellas. Disch fatally shot himself on July 4, 2008, in his Manhatten (NYC) apartment.
Naylor and Disch are buried alongside each other at Saint Johns Episcopal Church Columbarium, Dubuque, Iowa. His last book, The Word of God, which was written shortly before Naylor died, was published a few days before Disch's death.
His writing includes substantial periodical work, such as regular book and theater reviews for The Nation, The Weekly Standard, Harper's, The Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, The Times Literary Supplement, and Entertainment Weekly.
As a fiction writer and a poet, Disch felt typecast by his science fiction roots. "I have a class theory of literature. I come from the wrong neighborhood to sell to The New Yorker. No matter how good I am as an artist, they always can smell where I come from".
Following an extended period of depression after the death in 2005 of his life-partner, Charles Naylor, Disch stopped writing almost entirely, except for poetry and blog entries, although he did produce two novellas. Disch fatally shot himself on July 4, 2008, in his Manhatten (NYC) apartment.
Naylor and Disch are buried alongside each other at Saint Johns Episcopal Church Columbarium, Dubuque, Iowa. His last book, The Word of God, which was written shortly before Naylor died, was published a few days before Disch's death.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
January 3, 2024
I enjoyed a couple of Disch's earlier collections of short works but was disappointed by this one. There are a number of short-short pieces that are quite clever, but I thought that he was trying too hard for a high-literary tone that didn't work in many of the stories. Most of them first appeared in the mid- to late-1970s, many in magazines such as Crawdaddy, Penthouse, High Times, Harper's, etc. The title story is about a boring character being bored and rather predictably resulted in a boring story. Concepts was a silly piece of fluff that was a part of Harlan Ellison's Medea anthology but had nothing to do with the purpose. Understanding Human Behavior led me to understand that it didn't. Planet of the Rapes was a particularly offensive blob of misogyny; he prefaced it with an introduction saying that many people found it offensive because they didn't understand that it was satiric, but I understood and was still offended. (It's not all of us, it's you...) Josie and the Elevator: A Cautionary Tale was amusing, as was The Santa Claus Compromise and Pyramids for Minnesota, but overall, I'd suggest reading Fun with Your New Head or 102 H-Bombs before trying this one.
January 2, 2015
I'm seriously thinking of calling it already and selecting The Man Who Had No iDea as the best thing I'll read in 2014.
For a selection of short stories written for the main in the 1970s most pieces in this collection have the timeliness and heart and appeal and anxiety and depression and award-winning coffee pots of a George Saunders story published next week (or the week thereafter) in The New Yorker.
I mean, like, take the central novella, "Concepts", for example (pgs. 67-114). Disch explains in a short note that he wrote it for a Harlan Ellison anthology that never saw the light of day - but, still, even with that cray-cray note-of-warning I can only imagine what a headscratcher "Concepts" must've been to SF readers in 1978: it deals with such (now) ripped-from-the-headlines issues as long-distance online love affairs ("Courtly love had been reinstituted on a sound technological basis. Lancelots everywhere were free to declare their undying devotion to a universe of Guineveres without the least discouragement from the parallel universe of Arthurs"), webcam commerce, the care and feeding of sims, goofy emoticons ("A tear symbol appeared, like an asterisk, at the bottom of the screen") - the list, she goes on. There is even, crazy enough, an Easter Egg reference for fans (acknowledgers) of John Sladek's book on the 13th sign of the Zodiac. What I mean to say is, what was far-out SF 36 years (the story is set in the year 2481) ago is today's (and, yeah, sorry, tomorrow's, Monday's) angst.
The collection reaches its emotional crescendo with "Understanding Human Behavior" (pgs. 207-231, or you may have seen the movie, ahem: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) - as Disch explores the human need for a narrative in life, even if it is (possibly) repeating your disastrous past, or even if it is the mid-20th century narrative of a house, a spouse, a car and a kid.
Sidenotes: And, heck, look at that title again - The Man Who Had No iDea. The small i. A bite of the ol' Apple, eh? Strange precognitive magic going on here. Disch also gives shout-outs to William Gaddis' Recognitions and Delmore Schwartz's "In Dreams Begin Responsibilities". Also? Also, "The Apartment Next to the War" is fawking High Rise (Ballard) in five pages (see also my review for Disch's Fun With Your New Head for more Disch Did It First ranting.)
For a selection of short stories written for the main in the 1970s most pieces in this collection have the timeliness and heart and appeal and anxiety and depression and award-winning coffee pots of a George Saunders story published next week (or the week thereafter) in The New Yorker.
I mean, like, take the central novella, "Concepts", for example (pgs. 67-114). Disch explains in a short note that he wrote it for a Harlan Ellison anthology that never saw the light of day - but, still, even with that cray-cray note-of-warning I can only imagine what a headscratcher "Concepts" must've been to SF readers in 1978: it deals with such (now) ripped-from-the-headlines issues as long-distance online love affairs ("Courtly love had been reinstituted on a sound technological basis. Lancelots everywhere were free to declare their undying devotion to a universe of Guineveres without the least discouragement from the parallel universe of Arthurs"), webcam commerce, the care and feeding of sims, goofy emoticons ("A tear symbol appeared, like an asterisk, at the bottom of the screen") - the list, she goes on. There is even, crazy enough, an Easter Egg reference for fans (acknowledgers) of John Sladek's book on the 13th sign of the Zodiac. What I mean to say is, what was far-out SF 36 years (the story is set in the year 2481) ago is today's (and, yeah, sorry, tomorrow's, Monday's) angst.
The collection reaches its emotional crescendo with "Understanding Human Behavior" (pgs. 207-231, or you may have seen the movie, ahem: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) - as Disch explores the human need for a narrative in life, even if it is (possibly) repeating your disastrous past, or even if it is the mid-20th century narrative of a house, a spouse, a car and a kid.
Sidenotes: And, heck, look at that title again - The Man Who Had No iDea. The small i. A bite of the ol' Apple, eh? Strange precognitive magic going on here. Disch also gives shout-outs to William Gaddis' Recognitions and Delmore Schwartz's "In Dreams Begin Responsibilities". Also? Also, "The Apartment Next to the War" is fawking High Rise (Ballard) in five pages (see also my review for Disch's Fun With Your New Head for more Disch Did It First ranting.)
January 1, 2015
This is another of those books I read in-or-shortly-after college and haven’t looked at since. But, there’s a bit more to the story: I remember reading a review of it in my early adolescence in “Dragon” magazine, a magazine devoted to Dungeons and Dragons, but which also reviewed fantasy and sci fi titles. I remember it because the cover caught my attention (the Eye in the Pyramid was a symbol of Importance to me then), and because the title fascinated me. What would a man be like with no idea? I wondered.
In the twenty years since I read it, I had forgotten almost everything about the book, except that it was a collection of short stories. Oddly, the one piece of writing that stayed with me was the introduction to the title story (I had no recollection of the story itself). Since Disch is interested in memory and amnesia, and explores them in this book, that was an interesting discovery.
My reading of this book today was strongly informed by my knowledge of Disch’s biography. There are three things I know about him: he was gay, he was a vocal atheist, and he committed suicide after his partner of many years passed away. I knew the first fact, and possibly the second, when I read the book the first time, but my years of lived experience help me to “read” these facts into the book more effectively. For example, most of his romantic or sexual tales are told from a woman’s perspective. His atheism comes across at times as forced, and it seems to me that he actually spends more time than most authors in exploring spirituality and the existence of God and the Devil. I suspect he was either raised Catholic or exposed to Catholicism at an early age, because it seems to be the model of “religion” he returns to the most frequently. Whenever he writes sadly or cynically, I can’t help but think about his death.
The back of the book says, as backs of books do, that Disch is an “amazing” writer and speaks of “verbal virtuosity.” These are terms I’d be more likely to apply to his friend Samuel R. Delany. Disch is less the virtuoso and more the comfortably witty New York intellectual, whose writing emphasizes the fact that he’s smarter than most people and is aware of it. Some people might find that insufferable; I find it at turns charming and slightly annoying. At any rate it isn’t genius, it’s just cleverness.
Below, for those who want to spend the time, are my quick sketches of each of the stories, written more or less at the point where I finished them.
“The Man Who Had No Idea” is the most memorable of the stories, if only because it shares its name with the volume. What I really recalled wasn’t the story itself, but Disch’s introduction, in which he says the story came to him one night alone in a bar, when he had the thought, “It’s as if people needed a license to talk to each other.” This is a story about a world in which they do, and it’s a pretty amusing reflection on ideas, conversations and conformity.
“The Black Cat” is an homage to Poe, and something of an anticipation of Barker. I think I enjoyed it the most of all of them, right up until the very sudden ending, which I’m sure is intentionally confusing.
“The Santa Claus Compromise” is a parody of Watergate, set in a world run by children. It’s funny, but will probably be obscure to most younger readers.
“The Vengeance of Hera, or Monogamy Triumphant” is a really good spin on that English assignment we all had in fifth grade to write a story about what it would be like if a Greek God showed up today. Disch explains in the intro that the thing that stand out to him in Homer is how the gods take on forms of people who are a lot like them and then basically do what that person would have done if they weren’t possessed by the god. We get that here, also.
“Concepts” is the longest story in the whole book, and the most clearly Science Fiction up to this point. Apparently it came about as part of a collaborative project in which several sci fi authors created a world called “Medea” and then wrote a story set there. However, Disch explains in his intro that he “cheated” because he isn’t interested in writing about aliens, and so actually set the story on Earth, with the protagonist (a bored cloned housewife) in contact with a human-colonized Medea via a kind of Internet chatroom equipped with video and slight telepathic abilities. There are several interesting bits, including the native lifeform, which is encountered about midway, and a lot of poking fun at religion and conformity along the way.
“The Apartment Next to the War” is an observation both about Vietnam and the impersonal nature of living in New York City during the White Flight period of the 70s. In spite of that, it appears less “dated” to me than “Santa Claus Compromise” was, perhaps because the US has been embroiled in multiple Vietnam-like wars since the turn of the century, with even greater emotional detachment among the populace.
“The Foetus” is a rather biting satire of “Rosemary’s Baby,” which, unfortunately, fails to note that “Rosemary’s Baby” was itself a satire. As a result, Disch winds up looking childish in his attempt to mock Satanic horror by pointing out that it requires belief in the most ultramontane Catholicism. Disappointing.
“The Fire Began to Burn the Stick…” is a good companion piece to “334,” and it seems to take place in the same New York as established in that book, using the framework of a nursery rhyme to explore the barter economy of black markets generally. It’s about an old lady who needs to have her television repaired, but in order to do so first has to score some grass.
“At the Pleasure Center” is about addictions and governmental control of personal pleasures. It resembles, in a way, the kinds of bathhouses that gay men of Disch’s generation once frequented, but also explores the difference between “tops” and “bottoms” and the reasons for being one or the other.
“The Grown-Up” is a daydream or a fairy tale about a child waking up in a man’s body, akin to Tom Hanks in “Big,” but with Disch’s sophisticated approach. The denouement is particularly clever.
“How to Fly” also derives from dream-fantasy, but is essentially a parody of an instruction manual. According to Disch’s intro, it was a rehearsal for On Wings of Song, a novel I have not read.
“Planet of the Rapes” is as disturbing and crude as its title suggests. Disch is at some pains in the intro to point out that it is satire, but I would have to say that it is only partly successful as such. First of all, its subject isn’t very easy to laugh at, but secondly the ending, which suggests that institutionalized sexism is actually an alien plot, seems to undermine any social criticism that could be taken from the rest. It seems to me to express nothing more than Disch’s discomfort with heterosexuality in general.
“The Revelation” is the story that really made me question Disch’s atheism. On the surface, it is a biting satire of Ingmar Bergman (called “Ingman Bergmar” in the story), and his need to hear God speak. But, it’s a little too upbeat to really come across effectively. Also, Disch seems to be jealous that Bergman can be such a brilliant creative talent with this silly hangup, and I feel like the story ultimately says more about Disch and his own doubt than anyone else.
“Pyramids for Minnesota” is a parody of a pyramid scheme recruitment letter, in which Disch suggests that the way for people to find meaning in the modern world is to deliberately enslave themselves a few hours a week and work on building meaningless pyramids.
“Josie and the Elevator” is yet another exploration of religion by the atheistic Disch. It is a revenge-fantasy in which a naughty child gets sent to Hell for holding up an elevator (a common source of rage in New York). Disch’s vision of Hell is every bit as elaborate as Dante’s, but decidedly more modern.
“An Italian Lesson” seems to be a loose satire on “Cinderella,” in which the protagonist, rather than meeting her Prince Charming, falls in love with a waiter. Disch talks a lot about visualization and J. G. Ballard in the intro, but I didn’t get where he was going with that.
Finally, the “Human Condition” is a pretty interesting story about a man who has voluntarily wiped out memories of his past in order to attain “innocence” and have a chance to start again. It muses on questions of identity and knowing oneself, and works as a story more than a lot of the other pieces here. The intro is interesting, because Disch says that it is very similar to a story he wrote 11 years earlier, but much more hopeful, because “I’m happier these days.” It’s somewhat reassuring, knowing how his life ended, that he had some happy times.
In the twenty years since I read it, I had forgotten almost everything about the book, except that it was a collection of short stories. Oddly, the one piece of writing that stayed with me was the introduction to the title story (I had no recollection of the story itself). Since Disch is interested in memory and amnesia, and explores them in this book, that was an interesting discovery.
My reading of this book today was strongly informed by my knowledge of Disch’s biography. There are three things I know about him: he was gay, he was a vocal atheist, and he committed suicide after his partner of many years passed away. I knew the first fact, and possibly the second, when I read the book the first time, but my years of lived experience help me to “read” these facts into the book more effectively. For example, most of his romantic or sexual tales are told from a woman’s perspective. His atheism comes across at times as forced, and it seems to me that he actually spends more time than most authors in exploring spirituality and the existence of God and the Devil. I suspect he was either raised Catholic or exposed to Catholicism at an early age, because it seems to be the model of “religion” he returns to the most frequently. Whenever he writes sadly or cynically, I can’t help but think about his death.
The back of the book says, as backs of books do, that Disch is an “amazing” writer and speaks of “verbal virtuosity.” These are terms I’d be more likely to apply to his friend Samuel R. Delany. Disch is less the virtuoso and more the comfortably witty New York intellectual, whose writing emphasizes the fact that he’s smarter than most people and is aware of it. Some people might find that insufferable; I find it at turns charming and slightly annoying. At any rate it isn’t genius, it’s just cleverness.
Below, for those who want to spend the time, are my quick sketches of each of the stories, written more or less at the point where I finished them.
“The Man Who Had No Idea” is the most memorable of the stories, if only because it shares its name with the volume. What I really recalled wasn’t the story itself, but Disch’s introduction, in which he says the story came to him one night alone in a bar, when he had the thought, “It’s as if people needed a license to talk to each other.” This is a story about a world in which they do, and it’s a pretty amusing reflection on ideas, conversations and conformity.
“The Black Cat” is an homage to Poe, and something of an anticipation of Barker. I think I enjoyed it the most of all of them, right up until the very sudden ending, which I’m sure is intentionally confusing.
“The Santa Claus Compromise” is a parody of Watergate, set in a world run by children. It’s funny, but will probably be obscure to most younger readers.
“The Vengeance of Hera, or Monogamy Triumphant” is a really good spin on that English assignment we all had in fifth grade to write a story about what it would be like if a Greek God showed up today. Disch explains in the intro that the thing that stand out to him in Homer is how the gods take on forms of people who are a lot like them and then basically do what that person would have done if they weren’t possessed by the god. We get that here, also.
“Concepts” is the longest story in the whole book, and the most clearly Science Fiction up to this point. Apparently it came about as part of a collaborative project in which several sci fi authors created a world called “Medea” and then wrote a story set there. However, Disch explains in his intro that he “cheated” because he isn’t interested in writing about aliens, and so actually set the story on Earth, with the protagonist (a bored cloned housewife) in contact with a human-colonized Medea via a kind of Internet chatroom equipped with video and slight telepathic abilities. There are several interesting bits, including the native lifeform, which is encountered about midway, and a lot of poking fun at religion and conformity along the way.
“The Apartment Next to the War” is an observation both about Vietnam and the impersonal nature of living in New York City during the White Flight period of the 70s. In spite of that, it appears less “dated” to me than “Santa Claus Compromise” was, perhaps because the US has been embroiled in multiple Vietnam-like wars since the turn of the century, with even greater emotional detachment among the populace.
“The Foetus” is a rather biting satire of “Rosemary’s Baby,” which, unfortunately, fails to note that “Rosemary’s Baby” was itself a satire. As a result, Disch winds up looking childish in his attempt to mock Satanic horror by pointing out that it requires belief in the most ultramontane Catholicism. Disappointing.
“The Fire Began to Burn the Stick…” is a good companion piece to “334,” and it seems to take place in the same New York as established in that book, using the framework of a nursery rhyme to explore the barter economy of black markets generally. It’s about an old lady who needs to have her television repaired, but in order to do so first has to score some grass.
“At the Pleasure Center” is about addictions and governmental control of personal pleasures. It resembles, in a way, the kinds of bathhouses that gay men of Disch’s generation once frequented, but also explores the difference between “tops” and “bottoms” and the reasons for being one or the other.
“The Grown-Up” is a daydream or a fairy tale about a child waking up in a man’s body, akin to Tom Hanks in “Big,” but with Disch’s sophisticated approach. The denouement is particularly clever.
“How to Fly” also derives from dream-fantasy, but is essentially a parody of an instruction manual. According to Disch’s intro, it was a rehearsal for On Wings of Song, a novel I have not read.
“Planet of the Rapes” is as disturbing and crude as its title suggests. Disch is at some pains in the intro to point out that it is satire, but I would have to say that it is only partly successful as such. First of all, its subject isn’t very easy to laugh at, but secondly the ending, which suggests that institutionalized sexism is actually an alien plot, seems to undermine any social criticism that could be taken from the rest. It seems to me to express nothing more than Disch’s discomfort with heterosexuality in general.
“The Revelation” is the story that really made me question Disch’s atheism. On the surface, it is a biting satire of Ingmar Bergman (called “Ingman Bergmar” in the story), and his need to hear God speak. But, it’s a little too upbeat to really come across effectively. Also, Disch seems to be jealous that Bergman can be such a brilliant creative talent with this silly hangup, and I feel like the story ultimately says more about Disch and his own doubt than anyone else.
“Pyramids for Minnesota” is a parody of a pyramid scheme recruitment letter, in which Disch suggests that the way for people to find meaning in the modern world is to deliberately enslave themselves a few hours a week and work on building meaningless pyramids.
“Josie and the Elevator” is yet another exploration of religion by the atheistic Disch. It is a revenge-fantasy in which a naughty child gets sent to Hell for holding up an elevator (a common source of rage in New York). Disch’s vision of Hell is every bit as elaborate as Dante’s, but decidedly more modern.
“An Italian Lesson” seems to be a loose satire on “Cinderella,” in which the protagonist, rather than meeting her Prince Charming, falls in love with a waiter. Disch talks a lot about visualization and J. G. Ballard in the intro, but I didn’t get where he was going with that.
Finally, the “Human Condition” is a pretty interesting story about a man who has voluntarily wiped out memories of his past in order to attain “innocence” and have a chance to start again. It muses on questions of identity and knowing oneself, and works as a story more than a lot of the other pieces here. The intro is interesting, because Disch says that it is very similar to a story he wrote 11 years earlier, but much more hopeful, because “I’m happier these days.” It’s somewhat reassuring, knowing how his life ended, that he had some happy times.
February 27, 2025
Three and a half stars rounded up to four. A collection of science fiction, fantasy and horror short stories and novelettes published between 1974 and 1982. The title novelette was nominated for the Hugo award in 1979 and 'Understanding Human Behavior' was nominated for the Nebula award in 1983. A couple others of note are 'The Apartment Next to the War' which is like a five page parody of High-Rise by J. G. Ballard and the novelette 'Planet of the Rapes', which the author says is satire, but comes over like something that John Norman would have written, and is guaranteed to offend some people.
June 23, 2020
Excellent assortment of quirky, ironic tales (with naughty words).
February 12, 2021
Short stories, including many short-short stories of less than 10 pages.
February 22, 2024
Too dated.
March 14, 2024
A few good stories, a few odd ones in the mix. Fun read, over all!
September 1, 2008
fits & starts. will probably circle back to it.
April 12, 2019
My favorite book by this author. An excellent collection. The title story is droll and profound.
July 18, 2016
Excellent collection of his short stories .
March 31, 2017
Better than the others.
sony-or-android
April 11, 2019Because Connie Willis recommends The Santa Claus Compromise.
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews