The Shape of Utopia: Studies in a Literary Genre. Robert C. Elliott (University of Chicago Press, 1970, 158pp., $6.50). Into the Unknown: The Evolution of Science Fiction from Francis Godwin to H. G. Wells. Robert M. Philmus (University of California Press, 1970, 174pp., $6.95)

Science fiction is receiving more academic attention than it used to, a species of kindness that may turn out to be the equivalent of being nibbled to death by ducks. For reasons nobody seems to understand, voyages to the moon fascinate academicians, as does anything written before 1800, or satire, or Utopian fiction – in short, anything that avoids the fecundity and speculative wildness of twentieth-century science fiction. It is probably a question of what's manageable, but unfortunately voyages to the moon tend to be the oldest (often the dullest) kind of science fiction, and Utopian romances are not only secondary in the contemporary oeuvre, they are relatively unimportant.

Robert C. Elliott's The Shape of Utopia is a scattered collection of pleasant, modest, clearly written essays, none of which treats its subject with any complexity. There is much in the book that is just, much that turns into truism if you look at it twice, and not really enough to tie the essays together into one volume. Much is stated without being explored or fully described; much is mentioned or proposed without being done. For example, Elliott twice brings up a rather important topic – what's the relation of the teller of these tales to the author, of More to “More” (in More's Utopia), or Coverdale to Hawthorne (Blithedale Romance)? What did More think of communism, for example? One must, says Elliott, avoid “a priori judgments and listen … to the voices as they speak”; but if one does, he concludes:

But in the middle of this, the relation of “More” to More gets lost.