This was probably the least favorite book I have ever read by Ellison. There are a number of problems for me. It includes the complete script for Harlan Ellison's Movie. Now I hate reading drama and film scripts so Mr. Ellison already has one foot in the grave here with me. Secondly, it is not very good; preachy and self-righteous, it is also hopelessly dated. Even if you updated it to Occupy Wall Street and the Middle East wars and mortgage backed securities it would still be so hopelessly of the sixties it just wouldn't work today, if it ever would have.

On top of this we have the rest of the Hornbook, 384 pages of Ellison's self-gratifying rants. Many of these are also dated. These might have been pretty good at the time they were written and some translate well to today, but Ellsion is just so berserk all the time and again so self-righteous and preachy. These probably would have been much better in tolerable weekly doses as they originally appeared as op-ed pieces, but trying to read over 300 pages of them is tedious. On top of this I have always hated the fact that Ellsion has to always, always remind us of his many accomplishments as if that somehow lends more weight to his arguments. It does, but again in small doses and not repeated over and over. We don't have to be reminded every other time. You don't see someone like a [a:Christopher Hitchens|3956|Christopher Hitchens|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/authors/1334621246p2/3956.jpg] constantly reminding his readers of his many laurels.

This was volume 3 (of 4 completed) of the aborted White Wolf collected works. They are pretty well packaged but have a number of issues as collector books go, but I'm not going to detail that here. Presumably Harlan went berserk about something, as he usually does, and jerked the project from White Wolf, who subsequently went out of the publishing business anyway. The dust jacket art is outstanding.

I have to say I still always enjoy Ellison's writing and this wasn't that difficult to read but it is easy to see why he has a reputation for being a pain in the ass. We all need literate rabble rousers though. ( )

As much as I love Ellison's fiction, I have on occasion felt that I enjoy his essay writing even more. I think that An Edge in My Voice (collected in the first volume of this ill-fated series) is a classic of cultural commentary that remains relevant today. The Harlan Ellison Hornbook, however, is a unicorn of a different color. Rather than writing about current events, these columns have Ellison simply talking about whatever he feels like talking about that week. The topics are myriad and very hit-and-miss. They often feature Harlan at his crankiest and most rambling. Sometimes they are even uncomfortable, such as when he writes at length about a friend's betrayal (it's not hard to ferret out who he's talking about, from the clues in the piece.) I also feel it was unnecessary to pillage a poor (unnamed) intern for not knowing that there were 45rpm record albums (yet knowing that they were typically 33rpm.) I still have records, and even remember 78rpm records, but did not know offhand that there were full albums at 45rpm...so maybe give the kid a break? On the positive side, I did enjoy reading the account of his giving the eulogy at his mother's funeral, and his piece on the last days of his beloved dog Ahbhu is just as heartbreaking as when I read it years ago in "The Deathbird."

As for the screenplay...I tried. Some of it was funny, but the "story" seemed so random and nonsensical that I couldn't keep up with it for very long. I wish they'd chosen to include something else in this volume, especially since the series was discontinued after the next one. ( )