Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
that it was air-tight, and was hurled by magnetic attraction By JACK WILLIAMSON STORIES . (Harl Vincent, David H. Keller, E. E. Smith, Philip Francis Nowlan, Fletcher Pratt and Miles J. Breuer), that Jack Williamson A disciple of A. Merritt, he attempted to imitate in style, mood and subject the magic of that late lamented master of fantasy. The imitation found great favor from the readership and almost instantly Jack Williamson became AMAZING STORIES . He followed his initial success with two short novels , The in AMAZING STORIES and The thin man in black, whom Eric now recognized as a prominent his bag frantically, raving at these stories were close copies of A. Merritt, whose style and method Jack Williamson parlayed into necessity to go queekly. A patient I have in Paree, zat ees in zee most creetical condition!" was that Jack Williamson was fiction authors ever to sit down vogue for science-fantasy altered in a rousing trio of space operas One Against the Legion. When grim realism was the order of the day, he produced Crucible of Power and when they wanted extrapolated theory in present tense, he assumed the disguise of Will Stewart and popularized the concept of contra Shock. Finally, when only psychological interest because it was written during Williamson's A. Merritt "But my Violet! My precious earliest indication of a more general capability. The lightness of the handling is especially modern, barely avoiding the farcical by the validity of the notion that "None of your impertinence, stylistically forecast a later trend comes to my Violet—I'll—I'll—I'll appeal to the Society for the writing, the surmise that this media would be a natural for angrily, face highly colored, Jack Williamson was born in gems, waddled pompously clothing shimmering with artificial into the corridor. Shrill words ranch was anything but glamorous. "My days were filled," he remembers, "with monotonous rounds of what seemed an endless, heart-breaking war with drought and frost and dust-storms, poison-weeds and hail, for the sake of survival on the Llano Estacado." The discovery of AMAZING STORIES was the escape he sought and his goal was to be a science fiction writer. He labored to this end and the first he knew that a story of his had been accepted was when he of AMAZING STORIES . of science fiction and has gone on to conceal it below his instrument science-fiction is the folklore of the new world of science, and the expression of man's reaction to a technological environment. is dangerous. I've got a sort of most interesting and stimulating form of literature today." By which I mean that it is the rumpled bed-clothing, a striking slender figure in purple-striped pajamas. He smiled fondly across for what happens afterward." "Simple, primitive life is what set you down. But I can't be responsible we're looking for. And now what and began a series of fantastic With a groan, he stood up lay quiet beneath light silk covers. illimitable vistas, broken with the graceful columned buildings "Gee! What is it? Elopement? Or is it business difficulties? A bell jangled. "So long," the the snow-covered city. With a distasteful grimace, he seated himself before a broad, blankness. extremely soft and fluid pecking at it impatiently. bright jackets, red and blue and green, that brought a thrill of pleasure to the young novelist's heart when he looked up from his He wrote "thrilling action romances," as his enthusiastic publishers against a somber sky of unbroken gloom. were men. Red-blooded heroes responding vigorously to the stirring passions of primordial life!" and television directors was impartial as to the source of his thrills—provided He they were distant enough said, "of ages past, when men They stood up, triumphant. from modern civilization. His a beautiful girl in the other. Or a cowboy, "hard-riding, hard-shooting," the vanishing hero of the ancient ranches. Or a man marooned with a lovely woman on a desert South Sea island. His heroes were invariably strong, fearless, resourceful fellows, who could handle a club on equal terms with a cave-man, or call science to aid them in defending a beautiful mate from the terrors of a desolate wilderness. And a hundred million read Eric's novels, and watched the dramatization of them on the television screens. They thrilled at the simple, romantic lives his heroes led, paid him handsome royalties, and subconsciously shared his opinion that civilization had taken all the best from the life of man. Eric had settled down to the artistic satisfaction of describing the sensuous delight of his hero in the roasted marrow-bones of a dead mammoth, when tripping into the study, gay and vivacious, and—as her husband of a few months most justly thought—altogether beautiful in Recklessly, he slammed the resolved to forget that his next "red-blooded action thriller" was "Probably you're right. This soil seemed to be of alluvial origin. Shouldn't be surprised if idea is better." lyrics of the sea, of sunsets, of bird songs, of bright flowers and warm winds, of thrilling communion with Nature, and growing things. Men read her poems seemed scarce as the proverbial when life was simple and natural, when men hunted and killed their He confessed to a few pangs of stuff, when men still had the joys of conflict, instead of living under glass, like hot-house flowers." his own. They turned their attention contrary ideas about the matter. branches to make a sloping shelter by a vast fallen tree-trunk. "This will keep out the rain—maybe—" "And tomorrow, when it has quit raining—I'm sure we'll do better." They crept in, as gloomy night fell without. They lay in each to strike sparks to make a fire seemingly not inconvenienced in the least by the inclement elements, begin life like the characters in your stories, to get away from this hateful civilization, and live bellowing roar, raucous, terrifying. "What is it, dear?" she chattered. or something of the sort. This "Don't you think—it might have been better— You know the old life was not so bad, after all." "I was just thinking of our "I've quit bothering about science. people, doing silly, artificial the world with silly, artificial "Don't you wish—we had known better?" "I do." If he winced at the shrieks. Mighty splashes, as if or to fly through the storm. Gradually the sound of the conflict "But the amount of energy against which they had erected the flimsy shelter was rolled back, evidently by a chance blow carry more energy than long electromagnetic vibration of frequency into tears. "Oh, if only—if only—" more penetrating." overcame them. A few moments later, they were lying object and sets it down on the other side of the world. "An analogy from television "Why—what—what—" are accurately reproduced at the other focus of the instrument—which built up of an infinite series of excessive damages." "I don't wonder. You look like you've been through—I don't "Not altogether. But I should opposite each other, and ate, getting as much satisfaction from contemplation of each other's delivered his promised story to his publishers, a thrilling tale of faces as from the excellent food. When they had finished, she carried death about the Cosmic Express! world. But I know his weak point—"

<question>:
What prevents Williamson's writing style from venturing into the absurd?

<options>:
A His characters -- though eclectic and sometimes bizarre -- share authentic feelings, thoughts, and experiences with human readers
B His writing style does not contain unpredictable juxtapositions and irrational humor
C It is socially accepted that broadcast information will soon explode as a major field of discovery and innovation
D While his characters typically endure suffering, they adopt a comedic -- rather than tragic -- outlook toward their predicaments

<answer>:

C