The next volume of Baen Books' reissue of the writings of Keith Laumer, the fourth in the current series, is entitled A Plague of Demons & Other Stories. In that volume, we'll be presenting some of the best stories Laumer wrote centered around the theme of the threat to human beings posed by hostile aliens.
This venerable sub-genre of science fiction, of course, was hardly invented by Keith Laumer. It dates back at least as far as H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds, and has never ceased being one of the staple themes of SF writers. But Laumer brought his own unique style to that kind of story.
And nowhere, I think, is Laumer's style better exemplified than in the novel which will lead off the volume: A Plague of Demons. A novel which, over the years, many people have come to regard as his finest. (I confess that I'm not quite among them. For what are perhaps simply reasons of personal quirk and taste, I have a slight preference for Galactic Odyssey and Dinosaur Beach. But I would definitely agree that A Plague of Demons is one of the three best novels Laumer ever wrote. Well . . . one of the four. I'm also very partial to Catastrophe Planet.)
It's a little hard to describe Laumer's "style" in the abstract. The closest I can come is simply to say that, at his best, Laumer could rip off a story with more verve and energy than any science fiction writer I can think of. The headlong pace of Laumer's best novels is something that you'll find very rarely—anywhere, not simply in science fiction. Where other writers might rely on the intricate structure of the plot to keep a story going, Laumer would generally rely on pure bravura—something which very few authors can manage to carry off successfully.
But, Laumer could, and that's why his best stories work so well. To be honest, the plot structure of his novels often doesn't bear too close an examination. Laumer was cheerfully willing to advance his plots by the hoariest devices. Four in particular:
The Friend Who Conveniently Shows Up At Just The Right Time.
The Unknown Girl Who, For No Discernable Rhyme Or Reason, Saves The Hero.
Going Back To Square One By Having The Hero Get Bonked On The Head. Or the slight variant, used in Galactic Odyssey: Screw Up Royally. (Which, of course, usually results in the needed Bonk On The Head.)
And, always his favorite, which he borrowed—giving full credit, and in public—from the great detective writer Raymond Chandler:
When All Else Fails, Have Somebody Come Through The Door And Throw A Punch.
It's all very shameless. Oh, yes, indeed it is—and, for the public record, I hereby officially cluck my tongue.
I will also state—and also in public—that I couldn't care less. Mind you, when Laumer didn't quite "hit it right," these plot devices have a tendency to stick out like sore thumbs. But when he did—which happens more often than not—the momentum of the story itself makes it all a moot point. Whining about the jury-rigged plot is like complaining that the drivers at the Indy 500 are racing at dangerous speeds. Or—gasp—that there is gambling in Rick's casino!
Well, yes—that's why you go there in the first place.
Probably none of Laumer's novels illustrates my point better than A Plague of Demons. Leaving aside every specific use of the device, the plot of the whole novel can be described in terms of the classic Raymond Chandler ploy:
Aliens—really nasty ones, too—come through the door and throw a punch.
Alas, they slugged the wrong guy. And we're off to the races!
And race it does. Like Galactic Odyssey and Dinosaur Beach, the pace of A Plague of Demons is that of Laumer at his best. It's the literary equivalent of running the rapids on a raft. Exhilarating, for those of us who enjoy such thrills. I will, clearing my throat, warn those who prefer a more sedentary tale to look elsewhere. Coupled together, the terms "sedentary" and "written by Keith Laumer" would be the silliest oxymoron ever invented.
I'm tempted to leave it there, but I fear my fellow Laumer fans would scowl upon me if I didn't also make the point that, when he wanted to, Laumer was quite capable of crafting a tightly-plotted and well-structured tale. And, indeed, in the very same volume, you will find examples of such stories as well. Laumer's well-known "Thunderhead" comes immediately to mind. And so, for that matter, does "Doorstep"—a story which has what I think may well be one of the half dozen greatest closing lines in all of science fiction.
Enough. Afterwords also benefit from hoary plot devices, not the least of which is: End It.