Such fiction tends to be more interesting when the unconscious it explores is a collective or social one rather than merely the author’s. Like medieval literature, modernist fiction has a strong tradition of dream-inspired narrative modern writers from Poe to Ishiguro are not seeking religious wisdom in their dreams, however, but the personae and landscapes of the unconscious, the revelation of the repressed. This critical gesture is more important than it would otherwise be because Ice has been advertised as science fiction, whereas its tradition is actually oneiric modernism. There is only one.” Luckily, as he goes on he outgrows this meaningless blurb-babble, this blurble, and suggests Kavan’s antecedents and cognates: Poe and Kafka, Ballard’s Crash and Ishiguro’s Unconsoled, Resnais’s Last Year at Marienbad and Godard’s Alphaville, and more.
Jonathan Lethem begins his introduction to the new Penguin Classics edition of this 1967 novel, “Anna Kavan’s Ice is a book like the moon is the moon.
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