Everyone liked Bob Shaw. He was an Irishman with an amazing sense of what was funny about the universe.
His early SF novel, ‘Orbitsville’ (1975) was a success, though by success we mean within the SF field and sadly never noticed beyond those limits.
That, probably, was what happened to his suceeding books, all with enticing SF titles: ‘The Palace of Eternity’. ‘A Wreath of Stars’. ‘The Fugitive Worlds’, and so forth.
At one time, Bob and I did a tour of Northern grammar schools with Frank Hatherley. We took with us for reference John Clute’s brilliant ‘Encyclopaedia of Science Fiction’. but the lads seemed scared by any book containing more than a hundred words. Short words.
‘It’s destiny that decides whether you go for science fiction or you don’t.’ said Bob.
We were strolling together down a high street somewhere North. I said I wanted to put together something – probably a novel – involving long passages of time; the very idea moved my psychological responses.
‘That’s funny,’ said Bob. ‘I’ve been thinking about dealing with time too. It’s time someone sorted the matter out.’ Later, back down south, we both did what we could with time.
Much of Bob’s popularity came from really funny lectures he gave at SF conventions.
Later on I became involved with Stanley Kubrick over a short story I had written. A limousine called at my house every day and took me to the dragon’s lair. A film was in prospect. We seemed to make little progress. In the end, we gave up; that cold kubrickian back was turned on me. The Push…
Soon I began getting phone calls from Bob. It was evidently his turn to work with Stanley. To get to Kubrick’s house, once the seat of millionaire Solly Joel, Bob had to travel by train, with two changes. Rather demanding. Then He asked me for ideas.
“Bob, I can offer you only ideas Kubrick has already rejected, You’ll have to put your own slant on them.”
Bob eventually gave up. A woman went to work with Kubrick. She too phoned me for ideas. She too got that cold back turned on her.
Bob became unwell. Dear old Bob, his fate was to die in Manchester in 1996. I’d guess that everyone who knew him misses him.
