[January 12, 1970] A Glimpse into the Future: Drug of Choice by John Lange and Crime Prevention in the 30th Century, edited by Hans Stefan Santesson


by Cora Buhlert

A New Decade and a New Hope

It's January 1970, the start of a new decade, and at least in West Germany, it also feels like the start of a more hopeful time.

The new chancellor Willy Brandt and his social-democratic/liberal coalition government have been in power for not quite two months yet and the wind of change is already in the air, as the Brandt government has initiated talks with the governments of East Germany and other Eastern Bloc countries to thaw the ice of the Cold War a little.

A store selling fireworks in West Germany in 1969
Fireworks for sale
Fireworks over Delmenhorst on New Year's Eve 1969
The town of Delmenhorst welcomes the new year and the new decade with fireworks.
People dancing at a New Year's Eve ball in 1969
Some people welcomed the new year and the new decade with glamorous balls.
People are sitting around a table in a living room in West Germany in 1969, celebrating New Year's Eve.
Meanwhile, many private New Year's Eve celebrations in West Germany looked a lot like this: a family or a group of friends gathered in a living room decorated with paper streamers to celebrate… while at least one person fervently wishes they were somewhere, anywhere else.

And so the annual New Year's Eve celebrations felt a little cheerier, the fireworks were a little brighter and everybody seemed more optimistic, even though much of West Germany is currently covered in a thick layer of snow.

Adults and children are frolicking in the snow on wooden sleds
Old and young are frolicking in the snow on sledding hills around West Germany.
A child stands on skis, while another pulls a sled.
You're never too young to learn to ski.

But before New Year comes Christmas and this year, Santa left two new books under my tree, both of which offer a glimpse into a future that is not quite as optimistic as West Germany feels at the moment.

A Paranoid Nightmare: Drug of Choice by John Lange

Drug of Choice by John Lange

One of the brightest rising stars of the thriller genre is John Lange. He burst onto the scene in 1966 with the heist novel Odds On and has been delivering entertaining thrillers, usually set in exotic locations and often laced with science fiction elements, at a steady clip since then. I reviewed two of them – Easy Go and Zero Cool – for the Journey.

Eventually, we learned that John Lange was the pen name of a young Harvard medical student named Michael Crichton, who released a novel under his own name last year. The Andromeda Strain, reviewed here by my colleague Joe Reid, was unambiguously science fiction and also drew on Crichton's medical knowledge, since it is about a deadly microbe from outer space.

A Case of Need by Jeffrey Hudson

What is more, Lange/Crichton also wrote a medical thriller called A Case of Need under yet another pen name, Jeffrey Hudson. The novel deals with a controversial issue, namely illegal abortion and the fact that it often leads to the preventable deaths of young women, which is probably why Crichton chose a different pen name to distance it from his John Lange thrillers and the novels under his own name. In spite of the controversial subject matter, A Case of Need won a highly deserved Edgar Award last year.

But whatever name he writes under, John Lange a.k.a. Michael Crichton a.k.a. Jeffrey Hudson is always worth reading. And so I was excited to read his latest novel, Drug of Choice.

Drug of Choice once more draws on Lange/Crichton's medical experience, for protagonist Roger Clark is a medical resident at Los Angeles Memorial Hospital. One day, a Hell's Angel is brought in, comatose after a motorbike accident. It seems like just another day in the emergency room, until Clark notices that the biker has no visible injuries…. and that his urine is bright blue. Clark assumes that some unknown drug is to blame for the young man's condition. However, the next day the biker awakes from his coma as if nothing had happened… and the colour of his urine is back to normal.

The case is certainly strange, but Clark quickly moves on. But then it happens again. Up and coming actress Sharon Wilder is brought to the hospital, comatose for unknown reasons. And her urine is blue. This triggers Clark's inner Sherlock Holmes and he begins to investigate. Clark learns that both Sharon and the biker were patients of the same psychiatrist. Contrary to medical ethics, Clark also gets involved with Sharon herself and winds up accompanying her on holiday to San Cristobal, a new island resort in the Caribbean, which is billed as the perfect vacation spot.

San Cristobal indeed seems to be paradise and Clark enjoys wonderful days with Sharon Wilder. But absolutely nothing is as it seems at San Cristobal, for instead of a luxury resort, the hotel is just a few dingy rooms where the guests are kept in a state of comatose bliss by a mysterious drug, which also has the side effect of turning urine blue. Behind everything is the mysterious Advance Corporation… who want to recruit Roger Clark to work for them and they won't take "no" for an answer.

Similar to A Case of Need, Drug of Choice starts out as a medical thriller, dealing with a hot social issue, in this case drug abuse. However, once Clark gets to San Cristobal and sees the disturbing reality behind the glamorous façade, the novel takes a turn into Philip K. Dick territory – a world of paranoia, drugs and shadowy powers that one man cannot beat… or can he? Indeed, if you'd given me the novel in a plain brown paper wrapper and without an author name, I would have assumed that this was Philip K. Dick's latest novel. Except that from a purely stylistic point-of-view, Lange/Crichton is a better writer than Dick.

From the entertaining adventure thrillers of a few years ago via his Edgar winning A Case of Need to last year's The Andromeda Strain and now Drug of Choice, John Lange/Michael Crichton keeps getting better and better and is quickly becoming one of the most exciting new voices in both the thriller and science fiction genre.

Supposedly, Michael Crichton earned his doctorate last year, which means that the reason he started writing, namely to pay his way through medical school, no longer applies. Nonetheless, I sincerely hope that he will keep writing, under whichever name he prefers, because John Lange/Michael Crichton is too good a writer to lose him to medicine.

A paranoid nightmare of a thriller in the vein of the best of Philip K. Dick. Four and a half stars.

Crime Prevention in the 30th Century, edited by Hans Stefan Santesson

Crime Prevention in the 30th century, edited by Hans Stefan Santesson

Another hot button issue of our times, particularly in the US, is rising crime rates that plague particularly the big cities and plunge their citizens into fear. However, crime rates are also rising in West Germany, albeit more slowly, and those crimes which most impact the average citizen such as burglary and theft also have fairly low detection rates, whereas the 1969 West German crime statistics boast high detection rates for offences such as abortion or sex between adult men (recently decriminalised) which many people believe should not be criminalised at all

In his introduction to the anthology Crime Prevention in the 30th Century, Hans Stefan Santesson, former editor of Fantastic Universe and The Saint Mystery Magazine and therefore familiar with both science fiction and crime fiction, addresses the fact that many people in the US and elsewhere fear rising crime rates, but also points out that crime isn't a new phenomenon, but has always been with us and always will. Just as there will always be a need for police officers and detectives to investigate those crimes.

"Jack Fell Down" by John Brunner

Science Fiction Adventures March 1963

First published in the March 1963 issue of Science Fiction Adventures, this novelette introduces us to Marco Kildreth, a cybernetically enhanced engineer who is out fishing in a ferocious storm on the Atlantic, when he makes an unexpected catch – a dead body. A closer examination reveals that the dead man did not drown, but was dropped into the sea from a great height. What is more, Marco recognises the dead man as one Jack Yang, member of a delegation from the colony planet Morthia who was on Earth for an important conference. Marco Kildreth not only happened to attend the same conference, but negotiations to give Morthia and its neighbour planet a so-called Builderworld, an automated factory planet to supply all needs of the population, were blocked by the Morthian delegation, giving Marco a motive to want to get rid of Yang.

Marco Kildreth did not murder Jack Yang. But after some investigations of his own, he has a pretty good idea who did…

John Brunner uses the structure of the traditional murder mystery to tell a greater story about the post-scarcity Earth of the future and the colony world Morthia which is governed by a genetically determined feudalism. The establishment of an automated Builderworld to produce anything the impoverished population of Morthia needs would threaten the elevated position of Morthia's ruling elite, which is why the Morthian delegation is vehemently opposed to this.

As a science fiction story, "Jack Fell Down" is an excellent look at one or rather several future societies and manages to create a vivid setting in only 39 pages. As murder mystery, however, it is unsatisfactory. We do learn who committed the murder and why, but the clues are never properly planted.

Two stars, mostly for the background world.

"The Eel" by Miriam Allen deFord

Galaxy April 1958

First published in the April 1958 issue of Galaxy, this story follows the titular Eel, a particularly slippery thief who is wanted on eight planets in three different solar systems. The Eel does not operate on his homeworld Earth, though Galactic Police there wants him, too, to extradite him to the worlds where he committed his crimes.

After twenty-six years, the Galactic Police finally get lucky and catch the Eel. There's only one problem. Where should he be extradited, considering that he committed crimes on eight different planets, all of which are extremely interested in putting him on trial and punishing him according to their respective laws?

The Eel is finally extradited to Agsk, a world which does not have the death penalty, but which punishes criminals by executing the person they love most in front of their eyes. There is only one problem. The Eel has neither family nor friends and apparently never loved anybody except for himself. But just when the Agskians are about to execute the person the Eel loves most, namely himself, the Eel reveals that he has one more ace up his sleeve…

"The Eel" perfectly shows off Miriam Allen deFord's gift for dark humour and the solution for how the Eel wiggles out of his punishment is ingenious.

Five stars.

"The Future Is Ours" by Stephen Dentinger

The first mystery posed by this story is "Who on Earth is Stephen Dentinger?" The resolution to that one is quite simple: Stephen Dentinger is a pen name of prolific mystery writer Edward D. Hoch (the "D" stands for Dentinger) who also dabbles in science fiction and horror on occasion.

The story follows a police officer named Captain Felix who is about to test drive the time machine, or rather chronological manipulator, invented by one Dr. Stafford. Captain Felix plans to travel to New York City in the year 2259 AD to learn about new techniques for police work. What he finds, however, is not at all what he had expected…

This very short (only three pages long) tale is a typical example of the "twist in the tail" story that was popular twenty-five years ago, but has become rare since. This type of story relies on the twist being good and in this case it is.

Three stars.

"The Velvet Glove" by Harry Harrison

Fantastic Universe November 1956

First published in the November 1956 issue of Fantastic Universe, this novelette follows Jon Venex, an unemployed robot living on a future Earth beset by anti-robot prejudice. One day, Jon responds to a job ad asking for a robot with his specific skills, and gets much more than he bargained for, when he finds himself strapped to a bomb and forced to work for a gang of drug-runners. Worse, he finds the remnants of his predecessor.

Jon uses all his robotic skills to alert the authorities without violating his innate programming never to harm a human being. But even if he succeeds, will a robot ever be treated as an equal on this future Earth?

Like John Brunner's "Jack Fell Down", Harry Harrison uses the structure of a crime story to present his vision of a future Earth. However, Harrison is a lot more successful at blending science fiction and crime fiction and "The Velvet Glove" manages to work as both. What is more, Jon Venex is a very compelling protagonist.

Four stars.

"Let There Be Night!" by Morris Hershman

Saint Mystery Magazine, November 1966

Morris Hershman is another author better known for mysteries than for science fiction. His vignette "Let There Be Night!" first appeared in the November 1966 issue of The Saint Mystery Magazine.

Curt Yarett is unhappily married to Edna, an alcoholic. However, alcohol abuse is a criminal offense in this brave new world of the future and so Curt has the perfect way to get rid of his wife by reporting her to the authorities…

The focus of this brief vignette is less on the "crime" committed and more on changing mores and laws, particularly with regard to intoxicating substances and how what is illegal in one time may well be considered perfectly acceptable in another. Considering the rise in drug use in recent years, this is certainly an important topic. However, the story itself is too brief to truly delve into the questions it raises.

Two stars.

"Computer Cops" by Edward D. Hoch

Edward D. Hoch puts in his second appearance in this anthology—this time under his own name—with this tale about a crime-fighting agency called the Computer Investigation Bureau, CIB for short, fighting electronic crime in the not too far off future of 2006 AD.  It is one of the two non-reprints in the anthology.

One day, Carl Crader, director of the CIB, is summoned by Nobel Kinsinger, one of the richest men in the world, for someone has been using his SEXCO machine, a computer used to buy and sell stocks at the New York Stock Exchange, without authorisation. Crader quickly homes in on two likely suspects, John Bunyon, Kinsinger's assistant, and Linda Sale, his secretary. However, the truth turns out to be quite different…

Of the various stories in this anthology, "Computer Cops" matches the theme – how will law enforcement agencies investigate and hopefully prevent crime in the future – the closest. "Computer Cops" is very much a so-called police procedural, i.e. a type of mystery which delves into the methods the police uses to investigate crimes. To me, it felt very much like a futuristic version of the popular West German pulp crime series G-Man Jerry Cotton. "Computer Cops" also succeeds both as a science fiction and a crime story.

However, there are two problems with this story. The first is that the female characters are relegated to secretaries in miniskirts or bodystockings – all the investing and investigating is done by men. Compare this to Tom Purdom's "Toys", which features a female police officer, and John Brunner's "Jack Fell Down", which features a woman as the Secretary of Extraterrestrial Relations as well as a female professor of sociology and which also casually notes that not everybody in the future is white.

The other problem with this story is that 2006 AD is not very far off at all, only thirty-six years in the future, which means that many of us may well live to see it. As a result, this also means that many of the predictions that Hoch makes, either as part of the plot or casual off-hand remarks, may well turn out to be completely and hilariously wrong. Of course, it's reasonable to assume that New York City's World Trade Center, currently under construction and the tallest building in the world, once completed, will still be standing in 2006. Using computers to make deals on the stock market seems quite likely and billionaires getting involved into politics to the point of bankrolling or even leading invasions of independent countries sadly isn't too farfetched either. However, the assumption that Fidel Castro's regime in Cuba will crumble in the next few years may well turn out to be premature.

Probably the most successful blend of science fiction and crime fiction in this anthology.

Three stars.

"Apple" by Anne McCaffrey

The second new story is Anne McCaffrey's novelette, which opens with a seemingly impossible crime. A priceless fur coat, sapphire necklace, haute couture gown and jewelled slippers, have been stolen from the display window of a high-end department store in the brief time lag between security camera recordings.

The only way this crime could have been committed is via telekinesis. This is what brings in telepath Daffyd op Owen of the North American Parapsychic Center, an organisation which identifies and trains people with parapsychic talents and also works to end prejudice against them. All Talents at the Center were present and accounted for, when the theft occurred. This means that the thief must be a so-called "wild Talent", i.e. a Talent who's unregistered and unknown to the North American Parapsychic Center. Worse, this crime endangers the passing of a bill providing legal protection for Talents.

So the hunt is on for the telekinetic thief. Daffyd op Owen's Talents quickly zero in on an apartment block in a deprived part of town and find an apartment full of stolen goods – but not the thief. One of the Talents tracks the young woman – it is quickly determined that the thief must be female, because a man would only have taken the necklace and fur coat, but not the dress or the shoes – to a train station, where she uses her abilities to throw a baggage cart at her pursuer and crushes him. In spite of the girl killing one of his people, op Owen wants to bring her in alive and unharmed. But sometimes, there are no happy endings…

In recent years, Anne McCaffrey has been more interested in the dragons of Pern than in good old Earth, but she has also written a few stories about the Talented and their struggle for recognition.

"Apple" clearly shows McCaffrey's strengths as a writer. The action scenes are frenetic and there is some interesting characterisation, too, in the scenes where op Owen and his police counterpart Frank Gillings butt heads. However, this story also displays the issues I've always had with McCaffrey's work, namely latent prejudice that underlies much of it – ironic in a story that is about overcoming prejudice. And so the thief is the proverbial bad apple, because she is a) poor and b) of Romani descent, though McCaffrey uses a much less polite term.

A otherwise good story, marred by some of McCaffrey's persistent issues.

Three stars.

"Rain Check" by Judith Merril

Science Fiction Adventure May 1954

Originally published in the May 1954 issue of Science Fiction Adventures, "Rain Check" follows a shapeshifting alien who was brought back from Mars and is being taken to see the US president aboard a secret express train. However, the alien escapes during a refuelling stop – not for malicious reasons, but out of pure curiosity.

After some time spent as a large package on the platform, the alien takes on the shape of a human woman and wanders into an all-night diner. However, the alien's appearance attracts the attention of Mike Bonito, the man behind the counter, who promptly tries to chat up what he thinks is an attractive woman.

Turns out Mike Bonito is a civil defence warden, when he's not bartending, and was specifically told to be on the lookout for the runaway alien, though all they have to go on is a vague description of a male human. However, there will be an important meeting of all civil defence wardens in the city later that day. The alien, now named Anita, gets herself invited to come along, after manifesting a civil defence badge.

The American astronauts who captured the Martian believe that the alien's special abilities will help them win a war. However, "Anita" has a reason of her own for wanting to explore Earth.

This is not so much a crime story, but a cloak and dagger type spy story. Of course, being a Judith Merril story, it's also very well written and "Anita's" observations about life on Earth and particularly the persistent rain, so alien to a Martian, are fascinating.

Five stars.

"Toys" by Tom Purdom

Analog October 1967

"Toys" begins with a hostage situation. A group of children and their "pets" – an elephant, a gorilla, two dragons (created via genetic engineering) and two tigers – have taken a family hostage and demand that a committee made up of parents negotiate with them. Meanwhile, various adults are congregating outside and threatening to enter the house and beat up the children.

Police officers Charley Edelman and Helen Fracarro are called in the deal with the situation. They storm the house and find themselves fighting off both the "pets" and the children who have transformed their educational toys such as genetic engineering kits into surprisingly effective weapons. Will Charley and Helen be able to diffuse the situation before someone – adults, kids or pets – gets killed?

Our founder Gideon reviewed this story upon its original publication in the October 1967 issue of Analog and also adds some interesting background notes from author Tom Purdom who is a good friend of the Journey.

"Toys" is an action-packed story and offers some interesting speculation about how even in an increasingly affluent world, there will always be those who have less than others, even if they would have be considered wealthy as recently as thirty or forty years ago. Anne McCaffrey's "Apple" makes a similar point and is also largely set in a modern housing estate like those that are increasingly replacing the slums of old, raising the living standards of the working class, while not changing their economic status.

"Toys" also succeeds at blending science fiction and police procedural. Charley and Helen are compelling protagonists and I wouldn't at all mind a series of Charley Edelman and Helen Fracarro futuristic police procedurals.

That said, I also had a big problem with this story and that is that I intensely dislike stories about evil children. Now fear of children and young people is a common theme in science fiction. With the children of the postwar baby boom now in their teens and early twenties, an age when they begin to have political opinions and demands that don't necessarily match their parents', we have seen an uptick in dystopian stories about tyrannies set up by young people such as Logan's Run by William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson or the movie Wild in the Streets. But there are older examples as well such as the 1944 story "When the Bough Breaks" by Lewis Padgett a.k.a. Henry Kuttner and C.L. Moore about a couple terrorised by a superhuman baby. "Toys" certainly fits into the tradition of science fiction terrified of young people having a mind of their own. But though it is well written, I just don't care for stories of this type.

Three stars.

"Party of the Two Parts" by William Tenn

Galaxy August 1954

First published in the August 1954 issue of Galaxy, this story is an epistolary tale in the form of a galactogram from one O-Dik-Veh, a patrol sergeant on duty out in the galactic boondocks, to Hoy-Veh-Chalt, desk sergeant at headquarters and O's cousin, wherein O recounts his latest case.

O has been assigned to watch over the third planet of Sol a.k.a. Earth to make sure that its inhabitants don't blow themselves up before they have matured enough to be inducted into the great galactic community. Much like "Anita" from Judith Merril's "Rain Check", O finds Earth damp and unpleasant. What is more, the patrol office had to be erected on Pluto, a planet O describes as "a world whose winters are bearable, but whose summers are unspeakably hot". These few paragraphs tell us both clearly and very entertainingly that whatever O and Hoy are, they are very much not human. O also refers to their commissioner as "Old One" and is mentioned to have tentacles, so I imagined O and Hoy as something like H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu, only as a cop.

O's latest problem started when L'payr, a career criminal from the planet Gtet, escapes on the eve of the trial that will put him behind bars for life, steals an experimental spaceship and ends up on Earth, specifically the suburbs of Chicago. However, L'payr, who is basically a telepathic amoeba, can't survive on Earth for long, so he needs supplies to get his ship spaceborn again. So L'payr telepathically lures high school chemistry teacher Osborne Blatch to his hideout to trade alien pornography for chemical components from the high school lab. Though Blatch is less interested in the pornography – it is amoeba pornography, after all – and more in learning about where the mysterious puddle-shaped alien came from. L'payr, however, doesn't stick around to discuss the state of the galaxy with Blatch, but legs it once he has all the chemicals he needs. Blatch, meanwhile, finds an excellent use for the amoeba pornography he acquired and publishes a biology textbook with detailed illustrations of amoebas reproducing.

We haven't heard much of William Tenn lately, ever since he became a professor of English at Pennsylvania State University. This is a pity, because Tenn's satirical science fiction has always been a delight. And indeed "Party of the Two Parts" starts out utterly hilarious, but then gets bogged down in a lengthy debate whether pornography is pornography, if it doesn't titillate anybody due to not depicting remotely the correct species and whether a crime has been committed that allows for L'payr to be extradited back to his homeworld. The way that O entraps L'payr and L'payr – with some help from Osborne Blatch – tries to wiggle out of his extradition are both ingenious and funny, but the story is still longer than it needs to be.

Four stars.

Police Work of the Future

All in all, this is a solid anthology of stories blending science fiction and crime fiction. That said, the title Crime Prevention in the 30th Century is something of a misnomer, since the stories are more focussed on police officers solving crimes or criminals committing crimes and trying to evade the law than on the prevention of crimes. What is more, none of the stories are explicitly set in the 30th century.

Nor is this anthology particularly useful as a blueprint for policing techniques of the future – only Edward D. Hoch's "Computer Cops" even remotely offers a look at what actual police work might look like in the future. However, Crime Prevention in the 30th Century is not a police academy textbook, but a science fiction anthology and as such it offers an entertaining look at several very different futures. I find that the stories which are at least somewhat humorous work better for me than the more serious tales.

Three and a half stars for the anthology as a whole.

A man leans to a shed drinking a cup of coffee next to several skis also leaning to the shed.
After a long day of skiing, nothing is better than a hot cup of coffee, preferably fortified with something a little stronger.


[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]


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[January 10, 1970] Time On My Hands (February 1970 Fantastic)

photo of a dark-haired woman with vampiric eyebrows
by Victoria Silverwolf

What Time Is It?

That's a question that you can answer with more confidence than before, if you're willing to shell out a whole bunch of bucks.  On Christmas Day the Japanese company Seiko introduced the world's first quartz wristwatch.  (There have been clocks using quartz crystals, but not anything this small.)

As I understand it, quartz crystals vibrate in a precise manner when voltage is applied to them.  Thus, the tiny bit of quartz inside the watch, powered by an itty-bitty battery, provides an unvarying pulse that supplies extraordinary accuracy.

The Quartz Astro 35SQ keeps time to within five seconds per month, which is said to be about one hundred times better than a mechanical watch of good quality. 

The catch?  You have to pay 450,000 yen for it.  That's well over one thousand dollars.  You can buy a nice new car for the price of two watches.

photograph of a gold watch with a brown leather strap. In the center of the face, letters spell out Seiko-Astro
Quite a stocking stuffer.

If you like, you can use your fancy new timepiece to measure how long it takes to peruse the latest issue of Fantastic.


Cover art by Johnny Bruck.

Or maybe the publishers can measure how much time they saved by copying the cover art from yet another issue of Perry Rhodan instead of waiting for an artist to create a new one.

Cover of Fantastic: illustration of a spacesuited man on a pink lunar surface grappling with a blue robotic, treaded tank with a big eye stalk and two grasping tentacles.
The title translates to The Cannons of Everblack.  Note the use of English for what I presume is the name of a planet.

Editorial, by Ted White

This wordy introduction wanders all over the place.  The editor states that the magazine is getting a lot more mail from readers.  (See the letter column below.) He says that he doesn't like the name of the magazine, and suggests changing it to Fantastic Adventures, the name of the old pulp magazine from which reprints are often drawn.  (The sound you hear is me screaming No!)

He discusses the old problem of defining science fiction as distinguished from fantasy.  The essay winds up complaining about an article by Norman Spinrad that appeared in the girlie magazine Knight.  Apparently Spinrad griped about SF fans and pros being hostile to the New Wave.  Sounds like a tempest in a teapot to me.

No rating.

Double Whammy, by Robert Bloch

The author of Psycho leads off the issue with another shocker.


Illustration by Michael Hinger.

A guy who works at a sleazy carnival is afraid of the geek.  If you don't know what a geek is, you haven't read William Lindsay Gresham's 1946 novel Nightmare Alley, or seen the movie adapted from it the next year.

A geek is an alcoholic who has fallen so low that the only work he can get is pretending to be a so-called wild man and biting the heads off live chickens. 

Our slimy protagonist seduces a teenager.  When she tells him she's pregnant, he refuses to marry her, leading to tragic results.  The girl is the granddaughter of a Gypsy fortuneteller, who has a reputation for supernatural revenge.

This is an out-and-out horror story that may remind you of the 1932 film Freaks. (Like that controversial film, it features a man without arms or legs.) The author saves his final punch to the reader's gut until the last sentence.  If you don't like gruesome terror tales, it may be too much for you.  I thought it accomplished what it set out to do very effectively.

Four stars.

The Good Ship Lookoutworld, by Dean R. Koontz

This space opera begins with a fight to the death between a human and a weird alien, apparently just as a sporting event.


Illustration by Ralph Reese.

This violent scene is just a prelude to a yarn in which the triumphant human recruits the narrator (another human) to join him in a mission to salvage a derelict alien starship.  The vessel was operated by an extinct species of extraterrestrials who seem to have been nice folks.  They just traveled around the universe bringing entertainment.  Too bad a disease wiped them out.

The starship turns out to contain the headless skeletons of its crew.  That's mysterious and scary enough, but when our heroes journey back to their homebase in it, parts of the ship disappear, one by one.  Can they survive the long voyage before the whole thing vanishes?

This is a fast-paced adventure story with a twist in its tail.  Given a few clues, you might be able to figure out the surprise ending.  It's a little too frenzied for me, but short enough that it doesn't wear out its welcome.

Three stars.

Learning It at Miss Rejoyy's, by David R. Bunch

The narrator has dreamed about visiting the place named in the title since childhood, when his dad told him about it.  The stunningly desirable Miss Rejoyy promises him an intimate encounter with her if he can meet the requirements.  He has to pay to enter a room where his reactions to pain and pleasure will be measured.

The narrative style is less eccentric than usual for this author.  The content, however, is just as strange.  There are some really disturbing images.  The point of this weird allegory is a very pessimistic one, which is likely to turn off many readers.  Still, it has an undeniable power.

Three stars.

Hasan (Part Two of Two), by Piers Anthony

Here's the conclusion of this Arabian Nights fantasy.


Illustrations by Jeff Jones.

Summing things up as simply as I can, the title hero went through many adventures before stealing away with a woman who could turn herself into a bird, hiding the bird skin that gave her this power.  More or less forced to marry him, she had two sons with him.  She eventually found the skin and flew off to her native land with the children.

In this installment, he sets off on an odyssey to find her.  This involves a whole lot of encounters with strange people and supernatural beings.  In brief, he gets involved with a magician, rides a horse that can run over water, rides on the back of a flying ifrit, meets a group of Amazon warriors, faces an evil Queen, takes part in a huge battle, and witnesses an explosive climax.


Some of the many characters in the story.

A wild ride, indeed.  This half of the novel has a fair amount of humor.  The magician and the ifrit are particularly amusing.  The plot turns into a travelogue of sorts, as Hasan journeys from Arabia to China, then to Indochina and Malaysia, winding up in Sumatra.


A helpful map allows you to follow the hero's travels.

A lengthy afterword from the author explains how he changed the original story from One Thousand and One Nights.  He also offers several references.  One can admire his scholarship. 

The resulting story is entertaining enough.  I'm still a little disconcerted by the fact that Hasan kidnaps the bird woman, and that she eventually decides that she loves him anyway.  A product of the original, I suppose.

Three stars. 

Creation, by L. Sprague de Camp

This is a very short poem about various legends concerning the creation of humanity by an assortment of deities.  It leads up to a wry punchline.  Not bad for what it is.

Three stars.

Secret of the Stone Doll, by Don Wilcox

The March 1941 issue of Fantastic Adventures supplies this tale of the South Seas.


Cover art by J. Allen St. John.

The narrator winds up on a paradisical Pacific island.  He falls in love with a local beauty after rescuing her from drowning. 


Illustrations by Jay Jackson.

Everything seems to be hunky-dory, but his new bride insists that she must make a journey to a part of the island kept separate from the rest by a stone wall.  Because the islanders have a strong taboo against discussing fear or danger, she can't tell him what it's all about.  Along the way, they meet a madman with a sword and the object mentioned in the title.


Apparently, he's a visitor to the island, just like the narrator.

I found this exotic, mysterious tale quite intriguing.  The revelation about the woman's journey surprised me.  (There's an editor's footnote — I assume it's from the original publication — that tries to offer a scientific explanation.  This is just silly, and the story works much better as pure fantasy.  The new editor's suggestion that it relates to something in Frank Herbert's Dune also stretches things to the breaking point.)

Maybe I'm rating this story higher than it might otherwise deserve because I wasn't expecting much from this issue's reprint.  Unlike a lot of yarns from the pulps, it isn't padded at all, with a fairly complex plot told in a moderate number of pages.  Anyway, I liked it.

Four stars.

According to You, by Various Readers

As the editorial said, there are a lot of letters.  Bill Pronzini offers an amusing response to a reader who didn't like his story How Now Purple Cow in a previous issue.  I didn't care for it either, so I'm glad he's a good sport about criticism.

The other letters deal with all kinds of stuff, besides talking about what kind of stories they want to see (offering proof that you can't please everybody.) One speculates about a combination of Communism and Christianity.  (The editor dismisses this as unlikely.) Many react to an editorial in a previous issue about the cancellation of the Smothers Brothers TV show.

No rating.

Fantasy Books, by Fritz Leiber and Alexander Temple

Just like Fred Lerner did in the last issue, Leiber praises Lin Carter's Tolkien: A Look Behind The Lord of the Rings for its history of fantasy fiction, and condemns Understanding Tolkien by William Ready, while admitting that it has a few good insights.  He praises The Quest For Arthur's Britain by Geoffrey Ashe and Isaac Asimov's The Near East: 10,000 Years of History as fine nonfiction books with subjects relating to fantasy fiction.

Temple very briefly discusses The Demons of the Upper Air, a slim little book of poems by Leiber.  It's a lukewarm review, talking about his occasional careless choice of words . . . hardly to be compared with his prose and recommends it for Leiber fans only.

Worth Your Time?

This was a pretty good issue, with nothing below average in it.  I imagine others will dislike some of the stories, but I was satisfied.

While admiring your new thousand dollar watch, don't forget to get a new calendar as well.  I wonder how long I'll be writing 1969 on checks.


Did you make it to either of these groovy concerts?



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[January 8, 1970] Slow Sculpture, Fast reading (the February 1970 Galaxy Science Fiction)

[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

A little off the top

And so it begins.  For eight years, NASA enjoyed an open budget spigot and, through persistence and endless shoveling of money (though a fraction of what's spent on defense, mind you), got us to the Moon.  Now the tap has been cut to a trickle, and the first casualties are being announced.

Black and white photo of Apollo manager George Low speaking into a microphone in front of a NASA press backdrop.
Apollo manager George Low at a press conference on the 4th

Of the 190,000 people employed at the space agency, a whopping 50,000 are going to get the axe before the end of the year.  Saturn V production is being halted.  Lunar missions are going down to a twice-per-year cadence (as opposed to the six in thirteen months we had recently).

Apollo 20, originally scheduled to land in Tycho crater in December 1972, has been canceled.  Astronauts Don Lind, Jack Lousma, and Stuart Roosa now get to cool their heels indefinitely.  Apollos 13-16 will go up over the next two years followed by "Skylab", a small orbital space station built from Saturn parts.  Then we'll get the last three Apollo missions.

After that… who knows?  If only the Soviets had given us more competition…

Oh, and in the silly season department:

Cartoon drawing of a man holding a newspaper looking out at an apple core shaped moon. The paper reads IT COULD SAY A GREAT DEAL ABOUT THE MOON TO THE VERY CORE. NASA SCIENTIST DECLARES INTENT TO PROPOSE NUCLEAR BLAST ON THE MOON.

On the 6th, Columbia University's Dr. Gary V. Latham, seismologist and principal seismic investigator for Apollo program, withdrew his proposal that an atomic bomb be detonated on the Moon.  You'll recall Apollo 12 sent the top half of Intrepid into the lunar surface so the seismometers Conrad and Bean had emplaced could listen to the echoes and learn about the Moon's interior. 

Latham got some pretty harsh criticism of his idea, so he dialed things back, suggesting NASA should find way to hit the Moon hard enough to create strong internal reverberations. Let's hope they don't use Apollo 13…

A sampling from the upper percentiles

The news may be dour on the space front, but the latest issue of Galaxy is, in contrast, most encouraging!

The February 1970 cover of Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine featuring a long-haired abstractly drawn woman in a psychedelic art style that resembles stained glass.
by Jack Gaughan, illustrating "Slow Sculpture"

The Shaker Revival, by Gerald Jonas

In the early 1990s, America has become a hollow shell, spiritually.  All of the worst elements of our modern day have amplified: the hippies have sold out to become consumers, Black Americans are confined to walled Ghettoes, kids are dropping out in growing multitudes.

Into this era, a movement is born—the New Shakers.  They live the Four Noes: No hate.  No war.  No money.  No sex.

Pencil Drawing of a man and a woman side by side. The woman has long hair and shaded cheeks. The man wears a hat, has a long moustache and holds a saxophone.
a riff on American Gothic by Jack Gaughan

This hero of this tale, such as there is one, is a journalist who is doing a series of interviews on the movement.  As time goes on, we learn that he is also tracking down his missing son, whom he believes has been inducted by the growing cult.

It's fascinating stuff, but there's no end, nor is the piece indicated as "Part One of [N]".  On the other hand, it is concluded with "MORE TO COME", which is less dispositive than it might be since that phrase gets used often in the story proper.

Black and white photo of two men in suits sitting side by side. the photo reads GERALD JONAS INTERVIEWING HARLAN ELLISON AT THE NYCON.

I'm going to give it four stars on the assumption that we're going to see more stories in this world a la Silverberg's Blue Fire series.  If this turns out to be a literary cul de sac, then we can drop the score retroactively.

Slow Sculpture, by Theodore Sturgeon

Photocopied image of an open book with a black and white illustration of a womans face. Her hair flows upward and off of the pages. The lefthand page reads SLOW SCULPTURE by Theodore Sturgeon.
by Jack Gaughan

Ted Sturgeon can write.

There are some stories your read, and you just know it's going to be superlative.  I've felt guilty these last few months, handing out five-star reviews so sparingly, wondering if my standards had gotten too high.  And then I read something that is truly superior, and I realize that, for five stars to mean anything, it's got to be saved for the very best.

I shan't spoil things for you.  It's about a man and a woman, the former an engineer, the latter a cipher, both troubled.  It involves electricity and bonsai and an understated romance (no one writes romance like Ted Sturgeon), and it is the best thing I've read in a dog's age.

Five stars and a warm glow.

Sleeping Beauty, by A. Bertram Chandler

Image of an open book. The lefthand page is a black and white illustration of a large mantis-like creature, and a man in a vest half the size standing beside. From the center in bold letters is SLEEPING BEAUTY. The top right page reads A. Bertram Chandler. A paragraph of text runs down.
by Jack Gaughan

Another bi-month, another sequel, this one involving Lieutenant Grimes in command of the Adder courier ship.  As a result of his last adventure, Grimes is (supposed to be) no longer in the passenger business.  Instead, he is sent to a nearby star to meet with an insectoid Shari queen.  Unfortunately, the cargo they ask him to transport is…a pupate Shari princess.

This is all fine and good, so long as the nascent queen remains in cold stasis.  A power outage causes her to hatch, however, and she soon has the crew in her thrall.  Worse, she has increasing interracial designs on the young Lieutenant!

Yet another pleasant but unremarkable adventure.  We're definitely going to see a fix-up Ace Double half, I'm sure.

Three stars.

The Last Night of the Festival, by Dannie Plachta

Image of an open book. An art nouveau style black and white illustration of a young couple walking surrounded by rounded shapes in the forest fills both pages. They wear long gowns and large hats.
by Jack Gaughan

Two archetypes, Dawn and Dusk, walk through a macabre parade filled with hedonistic and gory spectacles.  Each scene is punctuated by an italicized interstitial with some oblique reference to Nazi Germany.  The story is illustrated like a picture book such that the text only fills perhaps a third of the page.

Like much of Plachta's work, it's an abstract and abstruse piece.  Are the two on their way to Hell?  Do they represent actual people?  I'd appreciate it more if I knew what he was trying to say.

Two stars.

Downward to the Earth (Part 3 of 4), by Robert Silverberg

Image oF an open book. the top lefthand corner is shaded in pencil. The Top right page is illustrated by a drawing of a small creature overlooking a ravine. The text below says DOWNWARD TO THE EARTH.
by Jack Gaughan

Continues the journey of Edmund Gunderson toward the mist country of the planet he once administered as a mining colony.  The key beats include a reunion with his lover, Seema, who stayed behind when he left.  She has become enamored with the planet, surrounding her station with a garden of native life.  She is also caring for her husband, Kurtz, who was horribly distorted by his attempt to participate in the Rebirth ceremonies of the elephantine indigenous Nildoror.

Another key beat is his entry into the misty cold of the temperate zone.  It is implied that Rebirth involves the swapping of consciousnesses between the Nildoror and the simian Sulidoror, the other intelligent race on the planet.  We learn that Gunderson plans to emulate Kurtz—to offer himself as a Rebirth candidate as a sort of expiation for his sins against the indigenes.

This section is more episodic and Heart of Darkness than the prior ones, and it left me a bit cold.  I do appreciate how much time Silverberg has spent developing a truly alien world, however, and the anti-colonialist sentiment is welcome.  I just have trouble relating to or even buying the characters, and that deliberate abstraction, distancing, gives the whole affair a shambling sleep-walk feel to it.

If that's your bag, you'll love it.  For me, we're at three stars for this installment.

After They Took the Panama Canal, by Zane Kotker

Drawn image of a woman and two cartoonishly drawn men in the background, man on right wears a top hat and holds a bird. Caption reads MOST STORIES OF CONQUEST ARE WRITTEN BY THE VICTORS OR THE VANQUISHED. THIS IS NOT.

America is conquered by the Soviets.  Rape, re-education, and reduction ensue.

All this is told compellingly from the point of view of Myra, a not particularly bright (by design) woman, who is selected to be a consort to several conquerors, and to bear several of their children.  In the end, she helps lead a revolt of sorts.

I cannot tell the sex of the author from the name, but the style is unlike those employed by any male authors I know.  In any event, the narrative is reminiscent of 1954's A Woman in Berlin, a harrowing autobiographical account of a journalist in Germany's capital when the Russians came.

Four stars.

Sunpot (Part 1 of 4), by Vaughn Bodé

Open page image of Comic Sunpot Featuring images of Apollo and Captain Belinda Bump's bare breasts.

Here we've got a tongue-in-cheek space adventure starting Captain Belinda Bump, who for some reason is topless throughout the strip.  Actually, it seems quite natural to go nude in space—after all, Niven's Belters are nudists.  However, prurience seems intended: Bump is referred to as "Nectar Nipples" and "Wobble Boobs", and the overall style feels something like a black and white version of what fills the final pages of Playboy each month.

In this short installment, Captain Bump runs across the next Apollo mission.  High jinks ensue.

The art is fun, and I want to like the characters, but Bodé needs a new letterer.  Maybe he can borrow Sol Rosen from Marvel.

Three stars.

Doing the math

While nothing in this magazine quite hits the highs of Sturgeon, and Plachta keeps swinging and missing (no one I've talked to has managed to decipher Ronnie's intent), it's still a pleasant read from front to back.  I have a suspicion Galaxy will outlive Apollo.

That's something, at least!



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[January 6, 1970] Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?

photo of a woman with glasses and straight, brown hair trimmed to just above the shoulders
by Janice L. Newman

The term “vast wasteland” has become something of a catchphrase for Journeyfolk, a reference to Newton Minow’s castigation of the offerings on television all the way back in 1961.

There have been quite a few good shows in the interim, including standouts The Twilight Zone, Dangerman (aka Secret Agent) and of course our favorite, Star Trek. We’ve also seen cases where television has been used to educate and bring awareness to social issues, such as the NET Journal series and the special, The Rejected.

Maybe it’s because so many theatrical releases are targeting adults these days, or maybe it’s just an idea whose time has come, but a group of educators, philanthropists, and television producers have turned their eyes toward the glass teet as a way to educate and entertain the very youngest of us. The idea, as I understand it, is to harness the things that make television addictive and use them to teach basic educational concepts as well as important life skills. The show began airing on November 10, 1969. I didn’t catch its premier episode, but I did manage to sit down and watch a couple over the following weeks.

still photo of a sign reading 'Sesame Street'
There's a signpost up ahead…

Sesame Street is a bit like a daily Laugh-In for the five-and-under set. It’s a conglomeration of short pieces, most of them independent of each other and self-contained. Some pieces have live actors in them, some have puppets, some have both people and puppets interacting with each other. These pieces are interspersed with animated or live-action movies that are a bit like commercials – if commercials taught “counting to ten” or “words that start with the letter ‘D’”. Many of the pieces are funny, and some have an unexpectedly surreal aspect that I found wildly entertaining.

still illustration of two brown hands with six digits extended, below the number six
still illustration of bands of colors radiating out in a kaleidoscopically mirrored fashion, from the number nine
still illustration of ten formula-one cars, all lined up at the ready, with the number ten emblazoned on the foremost driver's car and helmet
Stills don't convey the frenetic feeling of some of these shorts, like this one about counting to ten

For example, the first skit features “Gordon”, one of the actors, playing a good-natured joke on “Ernie”, one of the puppets (voiced by Jim Henson). Indicating four items, three plastic instruments and a banana, Gordon asks Ernie which one doesn’t belong with the others. Ernie chooses the banana, carefully explaining his reasoning. Gordon suggests Ernie try playing the banana like an instrument, whereupon Gordon honks the bike horn he has hidden behind his back, leading the startled Ernie to believe that his banana can toot, until Gordon shows him the trick.

still photo of a Black man (Gordon) proffering a bicycle horn to an orange puppet with unkempt hair (Ernie) holding a banana
Gordon shows Ernie what makes the banana go toot

Ernie chortles, and the two of them decide to play the same joke on another puppet, a passing blue monster. The blue monster, however, proceeds to eat the plastic instruments and somehow play the banana such that lovely flute music fills the air, leaving Gordon and Ernie very confused. “Nice tone on that banana,” the monster comments, “and the harmonica was delicious!”

still photo of Gordon and Ernie of looking in disbelief at the blue furry puppet's tootling
Cookie Monster plays the banana

It is absolutely hysterical, even with the repetition of ideas which form the foundation of the skit, and it makes me wonder if the show is targeting parents along with their children. (I did also wonder if showing the blue monster eating the small plastic instruments was a good idea. I can imagine children swallowing plastic whistles and harmonicas in imitation.)

The rest of the skits and interstitials weren’t quite as funny to my adult eyes, but many still had a slightly surreal edge. It wouldn’t surprise me if Sesame Street becomes popular with college-age kids who enjoy mind-altering substances.

still photo of the collision between a car, a boat, and a locomotive
Three muppets demonstrate three types of vehicles…and then smash them into each other

The other episode I saw featured an ongoing story where “Oscar the Grouch”, an orange puppet who lives in a trash can (apparently by choice), loses his trash can lid. The lid, he is careful to explain, is round. If there were any doubts about the Laugh-In connection, they are put to rest when Oscar says he’s going to go play his ukelele (which starts with the letter ‘U’, we are reminded) to feel better. He disappears into his can and the strains of “Tip-toe Through the Tulips” issue forth from it. Oscar’s full story is told in skits interspersed with more of the same frenetic “shorts” about letters and numbers, a cross between commercials and Laugh-In’s “Quickies”. Reinforcing the “educational commercial” idea, each episode has a “this episode was brought to you by” a particular letter and number at the end.

still photo of a graying White man in a shopkeeper's apron (Mr. Hooper), a White woman (Jenny), a Black woman (Susan), and a Black man (Gordon) all flanking an furry orange puppet with a hobo's bindle
Oscar is planning to leave, now that his trash can is no longer a home.  Most of the cast are here: (l. to r. Gordon, Susan, Jenny, and Mr. Hooper)

It’s fun, but does the show do what it sets out to do? Obviously, a couple of episodes is not enough to tell whether the lofty goal of improving early education (especially among underprivileged children) will be achieved. For that, we will have to wait a year or two and compare the progress of children who watched the show to those that didn’t. From the two episodes I watched, though, I saw more than just numbers and letters and animal sounds being taught. The cast is made up of people of different races, with Black and White actors working together as equals. The puppets are both human-looking and monstrous, but most of the monsters are actually kind and shown to be people just like everyone else. Some of the stories identify and give names to emotions: sadness, anger, fear, happiness. Themes of kindness, sharing, and cooperation are subtly interwoven into many of the skits.

still photo of two puppets facing one another, one with brown paper sack, and the other with a pile of jelly beans
Two muppets demonstrate the value of sharing

I don’t know if educational television will save the world, but I’m looking forward to seeing the world it helps create. Hopefully it will be one a little bit closer to that place where, as the theme song says, “the air is sweet”: Sesame Street.

This article brought to you by the letters "G" and "J", and the numbers "1", "6", and "1970".

still photo of Gordon and Susan sitting by the stoop, waving goodbye, as a child skips rope on the sidewalk
Susan gets the last word and waves goodbye from Sesame Street



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[January 4, 1970] Word for the Day: ARPANET


by Victoria Lucas

OK, kiddies, the word for today is ARPANET. Well, yes, good point, it’s not a word, is it? It’s an acronym jammed into an abbreviation. But a juicy one.

I found out what it means because Mel (my husband) and I have these friends in Orinda, California (a town east of Berkeley, nice place). Sharon is more of a stand-up comedian than a housewife, who uses her housewifery–-and sometimes herself–-as the butt of her jokes. Dick Karpinski is a fuzzy bear of a man who is the first computer programmer I ever met. We don’t get to their place too often, since it’s off our beaten track between SF/Berkeley and Fortuna that we usually run on the weekends and holidays (or when neither of us has an active temp job in the Eureka area).

Photograph of an older white man with gray curly hair and a thick white beard.
Richard Karpinski works for the University of California at San Francisco, supporting users of the IBM 360 and other tasks

At a recent visit, Dick was quite excited, and Sharon was complaining about her “three years of back ironing.” I don’t have much to say about the ironing, but once Dick had explained to me the reason for his excitement I admitted to some buoyancy myself. I wonder how you will feel about it.

With its initial transmission in October last year, ARPANET (Advanced Research Projects Agency Network) is the first large-scale, general-purpose computer network to link different kinds of computers together without a direct connection. Not only that, but different kinds of networks are coming online following this one. But who cares, right? I mean who of us has ever even seen a computer?

Black-and-white photograph of a young woman sitting at an office, working with an old computer that is the size of a refrigerator.
The IBM 360 with operator

FAR OUT!

Up to now you could only connect the same kind of computers, and then only by special-purpose cables and outlets in the same building, unless you could connect your computer to a "modem” (modulator-de-modulator) that converts digital (computer talk) to analog (telephone signaling) and back again when connected to your telephone line. The same protocols and hardware can connect a computer to “terminals,” boxes that can interact with a computer but do not have the smarts to actually process data. Multiple people could use the same computer at the same time (the miracle of "time sharing" that Ida Moya talked about a few years back, but again, only at the same site or by telephone. No matter what, connections were direct: point to point and dedicated. If you wanted to interact with another computer, you had to go to another terminal hooked up, directly or via modem, to the new machine.

Photograph of a push-button landline telephone with its handset placed atop another device, which is connected to computer cables.
An electronic translator of one type of signal to another, the modem

But what if you wanted to access multiple other computers from a single terminal? What if you wanted your computer to talk to another, farflung computer of a different make (ie connect an IBM to a CDC?) Here’s where Dick had to bring out his yellow pad and start writing and drawing.

Dick draws a box on his pad. “One computer, right?”* he says. “And here’s another” as he draws another box to make #2. Now you could connect a single terminal to any number of computers using a newly developed "protocol" for connection. (A protocol, drawn as lines from that word toward the boxes, is a set of rules or instructions about how to do something, and it’s above a program, which is more of a detailed list of steps to use when doing something.) Rather than using specific hardware, the protocol allows computers to "speak" a common language, over phone-lines lines… regardless of computer make or location!

As Dick, the “Nitpicker Extraordinaire,” might have written at the top of his pad (I’m a little fuzzy about how the conversation progressed), the first set of computers involved in the evolution of this network would have belonged to the US Department of Defense as part of its Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA), an almost direct result of the success of Sputnik. When NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Agency) was formed in 1958, most of ARPA’s projects and funding were moved to that group. That left ARPA with high-risk or far-out projects, such as computer networking. I can't tell you which computers are involved, nor the details of the protocol (even if I understood them) because they're classified. The main reason for the ARPA network is to test the survivability of communications in the event of a nuclear war. Because if one big computer is destroyed, someone could just use their terminal to contact a different one to complete a process.

Talk to any computer anywhere, without a telephone

Photograph of a switchboard with dozens of buttons and dials. The board is labeled: Interface Message Processor.
An ARPANET processor

While this exciting technology is limited to the ARPA for the moment, technology tends to spread to civilians eventually. Just think about it! The ARPA network and others like it will make it possible to distribute programs and data widely without printing it out and mailing it. As long as a computer can talk back, you can get and send data from and to it. Even more amazing, the initial transmission speeds showed that messages were being sent to a place 350 miles away 500 times faster than local data was traveling before. It was so fast that the initial speed caused a system crash, followed by a rebuild to handle the velocity, all during the very first transmission. It's not faster than light, but it's a darn sight better than having a computer operator working on far-out national research projects for ARPA fall asleep on his or her keyboard waiting for an answer.

What miracles could you work with a fast, smart, terminal that could connect to any computer in the world? Now that’s exciting!

*To Dick’s other friends. Yes, I know Dick, but I don’t remember any specific conversation like this. Any mistakes or misrepresentations are my responsibility.



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[January 2, 1970] Under Pressure (February 1970 IF)


by David Levinson

Pressure Cooker

Every December, the American Geophysical Union holds its Fall Meeting in San Francisco. There, a number of papers are presented on a wide variety of topics in fields such as geology, oceanography, meteorology, space, and many more. Usually, it might produce a paragraph or two in the back pages of your newspaper on an attempt to predict earthquakes or some new information about the Moon, but this year’s meeting garnered headlines (hardly front page news, but more than just filler). Most of attention went to the proposal to detonate a nuclear bomb on the Moon to build up a seismological picture of our neighbor and the news that Apollo 12 was struck by lightning twice as it rose into the skies above Florida. However, it was another article that caught my eye.

Most of the column inches went to a presentation by Dr. E.D. Goldberg of the Scripps Institute of Oceanography. He spoke of the “complex ecological questions” raised by the amount of toxic substances we’re dumping into the ocean. The use of lead in gasoline results in 250,000 tons winding up in the ocean every year, over and above the 150,000 tons that are washed there naturally. Oil tankers and other ships discharge a million tons of oil into the sea annually, with the result that there are “cases of fish tasting of petroleum.” Mackerel had to be taken off the market in Los Angeles due to unacceptable levels of DDT, while in Japan 200 people were poisoned and 40 died before authorities traced the cause to mercury discharged into Minimata Bay by a chemical company. Dr. Goldberg asked, “Will [pollution] alter the ocean as a resource? Will we lose the ocean?”

Dr. Edward D. Goldberg, a white man with gray hair in a suit and tie.  He is sitting on a desk, holding a book, and smiling.Dr. Edward D. Goldberg of the Scripps Institute of Oceanography in La Jolla, California

That seems like the sort of pollution we can do something about. Perhaps more concerning is the warning provided by J.O. Fletcher of the Rand Corporation. Fletcher is a retired Air Force Colonel, best known for being part of the crew that landed a plane at the North Pole and for establishing a weather station on tabular iceberg T-3 (now known as Fletcher’s Ice Island), which is still in use. He called carbon dioxide the most important atmospheric pollutant today. It is responsible for one-third to one-half of the warming thus far in the 20th century. The human contribution may surpass that of nature within a few decades. Global warming could increase the melting of the polar ice caps and change the Earth’s climate.

A photograph of Col. J. O. Fletcher, a white man  wearing snow pants, a thermal undershirt, suspenders, and a winter hat.  He is having a conversation with a second unidentified person who is completely obscured by their parka hood.Col. Fletcher (r.) on his ice island in 1952. This was the most recent photo of him I could find.

Fletcher’s warning was underscored by Dr. William W. Kellogg of the National Center for Atmospheric Research, who stressed the need to educate people that “man has got to change his way.” He added that global climate is going to have to become a problem that can be managed.

A headshot photograph of Dr. William W. Kellogg, a white man with brown hair.Dr. William W. Kellogg of the National Center for Atmospheric Research, in Boulder, Colorado

If the warnings of Fletcher and Kellogg sound familiar, that’s because you read it in IF first. Back in the April, 1968 issue, Poul Anderson had a guest editorial talking about the dangers of increased warming. In the August issue of the same year, Fred Pohl had an editorial warning about increasing levels of carbon dioxide. [And Isaac Asimov wrote about it back in 1958! (ed.)] An article from UPI has a much wider reach than IF, and people are more likely to take working scientists more seriously than a couple of science fiction writers. Let’s hope they pay attention.

Pressure Tests

It’s not uncommon for authors to put their characters through the wringer, pushing them to or even past their breaking point. Some would argue it’s the best way to get a story out of a setting and characters. Several of the stories in this month’s IF have taken that approach, though one subject has an awfully low tolerance for stress.

The cover painting of the February 1970 edition of IF. The background is a red wash with a streak of yellow across it.  In the center floats a gray spaceship.  Its left side is a sphere covered with circular indentations, some of which have antennae coming out. The center part is a short rod that seems to be threaded like a bolt.  Its right side is a group of spheres arranged in a circle around the end of the rod.  The spheres look like eyeballs looking out from the spaceship in all directions. Behind and to the left of the spaceship is the face of a young Asian woman, drawn to be about the same size as the spaceship.  She is facing left but looking apprehensively backward at the ship. She is lit yellow by the streak in the background.  Above her float three black manta rays.Cover by Gaughan. Supposedly suggested by Whipping Star, but it looks more like it illustrates Pressure Vessel to me.

Pressure Vessel, by Ben Bova

Robert O’Banion is second in command on a mission into the depths of Jupiter, looking for life. Grieving over the loss of his wife, he only feels truly comfortable when he is connected to the ship and its computer, flying the vessel like it’s his own body. Add in a general sense of urgency and friction between the scientific and military members of the small crew, and there’s a lot of tension.

A charcoal drawing of a man lying naked in a hammock.  Wires extend from his head and body up out of the frame. He looks calmly in the direction the wires are leading.  Another naked man with a creepy expression on his face is crawling out from under the hammock.Art by Gaughan: O’Banion hooked up to the ship.

Bova has written a couple of stories about Dr. Sidney Lee, in which humanity is desperately seeking the aliens who built the strange machines on Titan, still working after millennia or even longer. Lee doesn’t appear in this story, but the protagonist’s wife knew Lee on Titan and fell in love with him there. There are some flaws in the tale—notably the protagonist’s psychological suitability for the mission—but it’s still very strong.

Four stars.

A Matter of Recordings, by Larry Eisenberg

Another of Eisenberg’s awful Emmett Duckworth stories. This time, Duckworth has come up with a way to record memories so they can be played back to anyone. The usual nonsense follows.

Two stars.

A black and white linocut print of two naked women, one standing and one seated.  They are looking suspiciously at a tape player in the foreground.Can recordings made in a harem stop a revolution? Art uncredited, but probably by Gaughan

Prez, by Ron Goulart

Norbert Penner is looking forward to spending the winter alone with his girlfriend on her family’s palatial estate. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like her dog, the titular Prez. Worse, thanks to cybernetic enhancements, Prez can talk and has the intelligence of a 10-year-old. He’s able to make very clear that the feeling is mutual without having to pee on Penner’s leg.

A charcoal drawing of a black dog lying on the floor looking mournfully upward.  An electric cord extends out of its back and plugs into an outlet on the wall behind it.

Prez recharging his batteries.  Art by Gaughan

This is a fairly typical Goulart comedy, though not as wacky as some. If you like those—and I do—you’ll like this one.

Three stars.

The Cube, by C.M. Drahan

Humans and the E-tees have been at war from the moment they first made contact. The Telepath chosen as humanity’s representative for the truce talks on a remote planetoid seems remarkably unsuited for the task.

A cartoon drawing of a cube set isometrically toward the viewer.  A stylized human face is drawn across the three visible faces, with one eye in the top face, the other eye on the left face, and the nose and mouth on the right face. The face looks alarmed.Art by Gaughan

Drahan is this month’s new author. Unfortunately, there’s no biographical information, so I don’t know anything about the person behind the initials. It’s a decent debut. Bits of the story may come across as confused with a casual reading, but careful attention should make everything clear. This is an author I’m willing to see more from.

Three stars.

A Game of Biochess, by T.J. Bass

On a layover at a space station, tramp trader Spider meets Rau Lou during a chess game (biochess refers to a game against a biological opponent, rather than a computer). The two hit it off, but not on a sexual level. When Spider has a big score that will let him upgrade his ship to a two-person crew, Olga the ship’s computer suggests Rau Lou. However, she has disappeared, so Spider and Olga go looking for her.

A black and white ink drawing of a person in a space suit traversing a valley amid barren, rocky terrain.Spider makes his way to the wreck of Rau Lou’s ship. Art by Gaughan

Bass is shaping up to be a pretty good writer. He still needs to work on throwing around medical terminology (Bass is a doctor), but he has reined it in this time. I only had to pull down my dictionary once. Otherwise, this is a fine story with a nice twist at the end.

A high three stars.

Hired Man, by Richard C. Meredith

A human mercenary working for an alien employer is the only survivor of a raid on a human settlement. The pay is excellent, and the offer for a six-month extension will set him up for a long time.

A charcoal drawing of a suit of powered armor.  It has spikes and round knobs poking out of it at various angles. It appears to be flying toward the viewer.Power armor, but this mercenary is no Johnny Rico. Art by Gaughan

All the previous Meredith stories I can think of have been brutal war tales with depth. This one is no different. The ending hits the protagonist with a question the reader has probably been asking all along.

Four stars.

Fruit of the Vine, by George C. Willick

The smuggling of flora and fauna between the worlds of the Federation is punishable with death. Somehow, grape varieties suitable for wine-making have reached almost every world. This story weaves three threads together: the official search for the smugglers, a group known as the Entertainers, and a skid row bum staggering through a winter night.

A charcoal drawing of a man in a space suit with the helmet off, such that his nose pokes out over the top of the suit collar. His eyes are crinkled as though he is smiling at what he is holding in his hand, which appers to be an hors d'oeuvre on a toothpick.Art by Gaughan

There are a lot of flaws in this story. It’s fairly obvious how two of the three threads tie together, the whole thing is too long, and the set-up is a little hard to believe. While the desire to keep potentially hazardous plants and animals from moving between worlds is commendable, are there really 49 habitable worlds where people can and are willing to eat the local produce from the moment they arrive? But it’s told well.

Three stars.

Dry Run, by J.R. Pierce

General Devlin, D.I.A., is a special adviser to the Prime Minister on the Panda War. In this case, D.I.A. stands for Demon In Attendance, not Defense Intelligence Agency. His job seems awfully easy.

A pen and ink drawing of a hairy black demon with curling horns, cloven hooves, and a pointy tail. Its blank white eyes glare out from behind the flagpole it is clutching.  The flag appears to be a stylized line drawing of the demon's own head. Probably not Devlin. Art by Gaughan

This is a fun, little story that proposes something I’m sure many of us have thought at times. The Vietnam analog is obvious, but not overdone. While it might be trivial, the whole thing doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Three stars.

Whipping Star (Part 2 of 4), by Frank Herbert

The alien Caleban Fanny Mae has signed an unbreakable contract with the human Mliss Abnethe, allowing herself to be whipped. The flagellations are killing Fanny Mae, and if she dies nearly every sentient being in the galaxy will die with her. It’s up to Saboteur Extraordinaire Jorj McKie to stop Mliss.

In this installment, McKie tracks Mliss to an impossibly primitive planet, where he finds himself imprisoned. We also learn that there is someone else driving Mliss to do what she’s doing. Time travel may also be involved. To be continued.

A black and white line drawing of a man lying on his back with his head toward the viewer.  His arms are flung out to the sides and extend out of the frame.  His feet are bare. Wispy gray shapes float around him.McKie favors the Bond school of defusing traps by walking into them. Art by Gaughan

I’m not sure if I really like this story, but it is keeping my interest. In many ways, this feels more like the Frank Herbert who wrote The Dragon in the Sea than the navel-gazer we’ve seen of late. There’s more action in the first chapter of this installment than in the whole of Dune Messiah. It remains to be seen how well he handles the interesting questions he’s asked so far.

Three stars.

Summing up

Elsewhere in the magazine, Lester del Rey is back in form, offering actual criticism over mere review. He might be the best reviewer in the magazines right now. I’d say his only competition is Joanna Russ over in F&SF. Meanwhile, Ejler Jakobsson’s answers in the letter column offer quite a bit of news. Philip José Farmer is working on a Riverworld novel, the promised new issue of Worlds of Tomorrow is coming soon, and there will be news about the IF First program in the near future.

All in all, not a bad issue. A couple of excellent stories and only one clunker out of nine. Jakobsson is turning out to be a fine replacement for Fred Pohl.






[December 31, 1969] …for spacious skies (January 1970 Analog)

[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

Pan Am makes the going great!

Thousands turned out in Everett, Washington, for the roll-out of the first jumbo jet ever built.  The "wide-bodied" Boeing 747 can carry a whopping 362 passengers; compare that to the 189 carried by the 707 that inaugurated the "Jet Age" a decade ago. Pan American World Airways (Pan Am) took delivery of the aircraft, which flew to Nassau, Bahamas, thenceforth to New York.

photo of an enormous jet, parked on the ground on a sunny day. There are also observing members of the public, of which there seem to be about 4. The top half of the jet is white with a horizontal turquoise stripe that extends all the way around. Above the stripe, there are the words PAN AM in large black letters. The bottom half of the plane is polished, reflective metal, and there is an open hatch on the left side, closest to the photographer. On the right side of the image, we can see the stairway allowing passengers to depart. On the left side of the image, there is a small barrier of folding wood signs between the photographer and the jet. The barrier surrounds a group of 3 trucks and 8 or so technicians, as well as the platform ladders that reach from the ground to the open hatch.

Originally scheduled for regular service on Dec. 15, things have been pushed back to January 18.  That's because 28 of the world's airlines have placed orders for 186 of these monsters, including American Airlines, which has ordered 16.  Since their shipment won't arrive until June, and as air travel is strictly regulated in this country by the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB), which ensures fairness of rates, routes, and other aspects of competition, the CAB ordered a delay until Pan Am leases American one of its fleet.

As impressive as the 747 is, it constitutes something of a bridge, aeronautically speaking.  Very soon, we will have supersonic transports plying the airlanes.  Eventually, we may even have hypersonic derivatives of the reusable "space shuttle", currently under development at NASA.  The jumbo jet will allow for economical, subsonic flights until passenger travel goes faster than sound, at which point, the 747 will make an excellent freighter. 

These are exciting times for the skies!  And with that, let's see if we've also got exciting times in space…

John Campbell makes the going… hard

A beautiful color photo of the Saturn V launch, a syringe piercing the grey heavens, and a beam of fire below. The great orange cloud created by takeoff forms sharp relief against the Florida trees.

What Supports Apollo?, by Ben Bova and J. Russell Seitz

Apropos of the aeronautically pioneering theme, the first piece in this issue is a science article on what supports the Apollo, literally: the enormous Vehicle Assembly Building, where the three stages of the Saturn V are put together; the crawler that the rocket rides to the launch pad, and the 30-story gantry at the launch pad.

photo of a gantry tower constructed of metal struts. In the background, there is the Saturn V, attached to a similar structure. They are both on large platforms that seem to float above the ground.
The mobile launcher (left) and the Saturn on the crawler (right)

It's a lot of numbers told in a wide-eyed fashion, but I enjoyed it.  The pictures are nice, too.

Four stars.

The Wild Blue Yonder, by Robert Chilson

Illustrated by Vincent DiFate. Two-panel illustration, light dusty black linework on white background. On the right panel there is a White man in a white suit with a dark tie, facing the viewer. He looks like a pimply Ronald Reagan, and is awkwardly holding a fantastical gun as though it is a cigarette holder. On the left panel, there is a White man in a black suit, sitting at a computer console, facing away from the viewer. In the background of these images is a dusty cloudform meant to represent an atomic blast, but looks more like a hurricane.
by Vincent diFate(right)

Engineer Ted Halsman had bought an old mine in rural Ohio and stuffed it with all kinds of advanced equipment.  When the mine explodes with the force of an atomic blast, Halsman goes on the run, asserting that his discovery will warp the future of humanity if it escapes his clutches.

Told in documentary fashion, this story goes on waaaaay too long.  Along the way, much speculation is made about the nature of the blast, and how it might require rewriting the laws of physics.  That the speculations are patently absurd does a bit to foreshadow the joke ending.  On the other hand, that ending is also rather implausible.

Beyond that, we're meant to sympathize with Halsman, who idly dreams of returning to civilization, decades after successfully escaping from it.  That he murdered half a dozen people in cold blood while fleeing is glossed over.

Two stars.

The Proper Gander, by A. Bertram Chandler

Illustration by Leo Summers, black linework on white background. A White man in Western wear has pulled his pickup truck to the side of a road in the Southwestern United States, and has ended up stuck in a gulch. He has stepped out to look at the Black woman in Star Trek robes who has stepped out of a flying saucer-type spaceship. There is a cactus between them.
by Leo Summers

A thoroughly humanoid flying-saucer pilot is reprimanded for being too showy about his jaunts to Earth.  His bosses decide the best defense against discovery is hiding in plain sight: a saucer is ordered to land in front of a commuter, and out strolls a vivacious, thoroughly humanoid "Officer's Comfort Second Class" who claims she is from Venus.  Since modern humans know Venus is uninhabitable, the saucer people figure that future sightings will be written off as gags or delusions.

This story is both stupid and sexist, both in spades.  One star.

Curfew, by Bruce Daniels

A young Martian by the name of Matheson comes to Earth for the reading of his uncle's will.  Said uncle was an inventor and a corporate spy, and his legacy includes some rather valuable patents that could be explosive in the wrong hands.  Others are already after the secret, and in addition to dodging them, Matheson must meet with a shady unknown at night, outside the safety of his hotel.

Therein lines the inspiration for the story's title: as a solution to the crime problem, there is a night-long curfew enforced by mechanical beasts and aircraft.  Can Matheson brave the rigors of his homeworld long enough to claim his prize?

This piece is somewhat juvenile in tone, but not bad.  Three stars.

The Pyrophilic Saurian, by Howard L. Myers

Illustration by Leo Summers. Black lines on white background depict an enormous sauropod, either formed out of vegetation or with vegetation growing all over its body. In the background, there is a second sauropod, rubbing against a rocket ship. A palm frond the size of the rocket ship has fallen against its side. In the foreground, there is the legend
by Leo Summers

This story appears to take place in the same universe as "His Master's Vice", because that's the other place we've seen Prox(y)Ad(miral)s.  In this tale, we've got a prison escapee named Olivine who has made a break with four other convicts.  He heads out to a planet that he knows (as a former ProxAd) has been restricted and bears a resource of great value.  Of course, the suspicious ease of Olivine's escape suggests that the authorities have a reason for letting him and his band scout out this world for them…

It's cute, in a Chris Anvil sort of way, though the space patrol must have been close to prescient to anticipate all of the twists and turns the story takes.  Three stars, barely.

In Our Hands, the Stars (Part 2 of 3), by Harry Harrison

Illustration by Kelly Freas. Two-panel drawing. Left panel is a paunchy person in a too-tight black wetsuit-spacesuit, firing a ray gun at unseen pursuers. Right panel is another person wearing a wetsuit-spacesuit, carrying something over their shoulder that could be a grey sack, a person, or a large dead animal. The right panel wetsuit-spacesuit person appears to have a very large set of buttocks. The figures are in pools of light, next to something that looks like a jet. In the background there is a city at night, but it is drawn so dark and smudgy that it is impossible to make out much detail
by Kelly Freas

And now, Part 2 of the serial started last month, in which an Israeli scientists flees to Denmark to develop anti-gravity.

In this installment, Denmark builds a proper anti-grav spaceship, adapted from a giant hovercraft.  We learn that its pilot likes to sleep around, and his wife is being leaned on by the CIA to steal secrets from the project.  In all of this issue's 50 pages, the only scene that really matters is when the discoverer of the effect, Leif Holm, newly minted Minister for Space, gives a speech from the Moon.  The rest is superfluous building scenes or bits with the pilot's wife, who exists solely to be weak, vulnerable, and jealous, so she can be traitorous.

"Did you read about our Mars visit?" is a line that is actually in the book, and I thought at that point, "No!  But I'd have liked to!"

Also, can a diesel tractor really work on the Moon even with oxygen cylinders?  And are the Danestronauts doing anything to sterilize their equipment, or are they just blithely contaminating the Moon?

I'm really not enjoying this one very much.  Harrison is sleepwalking.  Two stars.

The Reference Library: To Buy a Book (Analog, January 1970), by P. Schuyler Miller

Miller prefaces his book column with a fascinating piece on how books are distributed.  In short, they aren't…not for very long, anyway.  The titles sit on shelves for a vanishingly brief time, and unless the booksellers know they can sell a bunch, chances are they won't bother ordering any.  The profit margin's just not there.  This is a phenomenon I know very well as an author, and I don't imagine the paradigm will change for the next half century or so (until we all switch over to digital books, computer-delivered, as Mack Reynolds predicts).

There's also a nice plug for Bjo Trimble's Star Trek Concordance, a comprehensive encyclopedia of all topics from the show.  Then Miller gushes over a trio of reprint Judith Merril novellas, Daughters of Earth, the recently novelized Leiber serial, A Specter is Haunting Texas, and the very recently novelized Silverberg serial, Up the Line.  His praise is slightly muted for Alexander Key's juvenile, The Golden Enemy.

Having reservations

photo of a young brunette woman, sitting at a computer and wearing a headset. She is wearing a short-sleeved ribbed sweater, and is smiling over her shoulder at the camera.
Thérèse Burke checks reservations for the Irish airline, Air Lingus.

Well.

It is appropriate that, on the eve of the dawn of a new era of air travel, Analog is continuing a serial about a new era of space travel.  But despite that subject matter, this issue is straight out of Dullsville, continuing a flight into mediocrity that has been going on for many years now.

With a score of 2.5, this month's issue is only beaten to the bottom by the perennial stinker, Amazing (2.4).  It is roughly tied with New Worlds (2.5), and exceed by IF (2.7), Vision of Tomorrow (3.2), and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5).

Aside from that superlative last magazine, it's been something of a drab month: you could take all the 4-5 star stuff and you'd have less than two full magazine's worth.  And women wrote just 4% of the pieces.

Is this any way to run a genre?



[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]


Follow on BlueSky

[December 28, 1969] Cinemascope: Two if by Sea, Three if by Space! (Captain Nemo and the Underwater City and Marooned)


by Fiona Moore

Captain Nemo and the Underwater City

I had low expectations for Captain Nemo and the Underwater City, thinking it would be a bit of enjoyably fluffy escapism. For the most part this is true, but it does have a few things to recommend it beyond that.

Poster for Captain Nemo and the Underwater City
Poster for Captain Nemo and the Underwater City

The Nautilus rescues a small band of survivors from a shipwreck, and takes them to, yes, an underwater city founded by Captain Nemo (Robert Ryan) called Templemer (everyone pronounces it Temple-mere, which makes it sound like a small town in the Home Counties or possibly a plantation in the Old South). They include a plucky and intelligent widow (Nanette Newman) with a young son (Christopher Hartstone), a rugged-faced American senator (Chuck Connors), two comedy Cockney wide-boys (Bill Fraser and Kenneth Connor), a cute and suspiciously well-behaved kitten (name unknown), and an engineer who is clearly about to go over the edge of sanity (Allan Cuthbertson).

Templemer is a utopian community where food and drink and education are free, everyone lives their best lives, and gold is as common as steel is for us. At this point I rolled my eyes, expecting that the surface people would all decide that There’s No Place Like Home and plot to escape this perfectly decent hippie paradise; however, in fact, the newcomers are divided on that point, and their reasons for wanting to leave or stay are all in character and plausible.

Characters from the movie Captain Nemo and the Underwater City.Nemo's guests are less than thrilled at their accommodation.

The movie explores the frequently-asked question of our time: whether it’s better to engage with the problems of society or just to tune in, turn on and drop out, building a better world outside instead. Nemo and his cohorts have definitely chosen the latter, while Senator Fraser’s reason for wanting to return to the surface is to do the former. The story explicitly takes place at the time of the American Civil War, and Nemo has undergone an ethnic shift to become an American. This gives the implication that Nemo is rejecting his own country’s troubles by retreating to Templemer and, consequently, inviting comparisons with the modern USA (and with Ryan himself, well known as a pacifist and an outspoken critic of the American government). Although the movie seems to want us to side with Senator Fraser, I personally remain unconvinced.

Model of the Nautilus.There's also some nice modelwork, even if it's often hard to see.

Of course, there are a lot of preposterous things that are overlooked or else are simply there to drive the story along. There’s a giant manta ray for our heroes to fight, which I suppose is a change from the usual giant squid. There’s only the briefest explanation of where Templemer’s population come from. The engineer’s mental collapse is so heavily telegraphed that I kept wishing someone would try and help the poor man rather than let him become another plot complication. There’s also a very long and very boring sequence where Nemo shows his guests around Templemer’s undersea farming setup, which contributes little to the story and isn’t particularly engaging and mostly seems to be there to show off the fact that MGM spent money for an expensive and complicated underwater shoot.

In short, I wouldn’t urge you to rush out and see it, but if it’s on at your local cinema and you have time to kill during the holidays, you could do worse. Two and a half stars.


BW photograph of Jason Sachs. He's a white man, with short light hair, rectangular glasses and a surgeon mask.
by Jason Sacks

Marooned

What if the real heroes of NASA weren’t the astronauts but instead the ground crew? What if the astronauts were all either bland or jerks, while Mission Control were all brave, steadfast problem solvers to a man? What if a movie with those premises promised a thrilling story but delivered leaden action?

Imagine that movie, and you’ll get something like Marooned, a new film from director John Sturges seemingly released to capitalize on America’s fascination with the space program and our incipient worries about space failures. We might expect Marooned to be a thrilling and au courant film about man's perils in space. But Marooned is more concerned with the men on the ground than the men in space. That fact helps make for a slow trudge of a film.

Movie poster. The illustration has a space module and an astronaut on a blue background with some Zodiac constellations represented. The text includes the movie title "Marooned" in all caps, the tagline "The Saga of Ironman One!", as well as the main cast of the movie listed below the image: Gregory Peck, Richard Crenna, David Janssen, James Franciscus, Gene Hackman, co-starring Lee Grant, Nancy Novack, Mariette Hartley.

As the film begins, three astronauts played by Richard Crenna (The Real McCoys, Slattery's People, The Sand Pebbles), James Franciscus (The Investigators) and Gene Hackman (Hawaii, Bonny and Clyde) have completed their assignment to spend several months working in an orbiting laboratory. As the pilots begin their efforts to return to Earth, however, they find the thrusters malfunctioning on their rocket. It will take a heroic effort from the ground crew, led by Gregory Peck (needs no introduction) and David Janssen (The Fugitive), to return the astronauts to Earth. But will that dedicated crew succeed before oxygen runs out in the space capsule? And how will a hurricane at Cape Kennedy affect the rescue efforts?

It's an intriguing narrative for a movie (not to mention a book), and it's certainly very on-target for our country’s current obsessions. Marooned had the promise to be something pretty special; instead, it is a conservative, hide-bound, badly-acted failure.

Much of the film’s failure comes from an odd decision by the filmmakers: instead of focusing on the astronauts, the film spotlights their ground crew, particularly the efforts of their brave leader, Gregory Peck, to save the spacemen. In theory this could be a logical approach to the story which harnessed celebrity charisma to add seriousness to the rescue effort. Peck is a longstanding, proven screen presence. He gives the film a feeling of gravitas. But, come on, film fans: would you rather watch Gregory Peck struggle though rescue contingencies or spend more time with the astronauts trying to come up with plans? Without Cronkite (or even Chet and David) to spice things up, I can't imagine an audience is interested in watching the efforts of a bunch of white-shirt-and-tie men reading long lists of protocols off checklists, scene after tedious scene.

A promotional image of the movie. Three characters are seen in a huge room with a circular ground/wall. There is a technical console and a chair, camp beds. One of the characters is exercising on a stationary bike.

All that focus on protocols makes the film feel slow. But that very same slowness feels like a deliberate approach to the story. This is a workmanlike film which focuses on the amazing power of bureaucracy to solve complex problems. Solving these problems takes time, and it’s important to be able to be systematic and mark important items off a checklist. If only this movie had been cut to a crisp 90 minutes, the filmmakers’ gambit might have worked. Instead, Marooned is sluggish.

Peck seems to phone his role in. The intended gravitas from his role comes across  more as torpor than as professionalism.  Janssen and Franciscus bring their usual decent TV-level acting to their roles. But Hackman is especially badly selected for his role – his character, Buzz Lloyd, is impulsive and self-centered.  Viewers grow tired of Buzz's histrionics and wonder how in the world someone like that made it through astronaut school. It's surprising to see Hackman perform so poorly after he recently delivered fine performances in Bonnie and Clyde and Downhill Racer, so hopefully this was just an anomaly. With his rugged good looks, Hackman looks more like a cop than an astronaut.

The film offers viewers a few small moments with the astronauts' wives. Those moments perhaps convey the most sense of the astronauts' peril, since the wives are allowed to actually emote. Veteran actresses Lee Grant (Peyton Place, In the Heat of the Night), Mariette Hartley (Star Trek: All Our Yesterdays) and Nancy Kovack (Star Trek: A Private Little War) have all done good work in the past. Here they are called upon to do little more than look concerned and show a little attitude. The actresses actually execute their assignments with aplomb. I especially enjoyed Kovack's frustrated resignation about the life she signed up for as the wife of an astronaut. She conveys a lot in small gestures and facial expressions.

A character in a brown suit is standing in front of several microphones for what seems to be a press conference. The wall behind him consists of a world map with red parallel curbed lines.

The ending, again slow, is genuinely captivating nonetheless, and takes a few surprising twists. I became very invested in this film in its last 20 minutes and wish we had more scenes like these. Though it was a bit hard to root for these dull men to be rescued, the attention to detail around astrophysics and international cooperation were stellar.

John Sturges is usually an excellent director of action movies – see Bad Day at Black Rock, The Magnificent Seven or The Great Escape. But he probably shouldn’t have journeyed into space with our boring astronauts. Marooned just never comes alive like The Magnficent Seven did: the characters never popped, the action never coruscated, and the direction lacked flash.

German promotional picture for the movie. There are three characters in spacesuits in a tiny space. One seems tense, one excited and one focused.

But there’s a deeper problem here as well. One of the reasons The Great Escape was such a smash hit was that many viewers could see themselves in the zealous Steve McQueen, endlessly looking to escape his prison life. McQueen’s Virgil Hilts felt like a counterculture hero on the run, not dissimilar to the characters in Easy Rider or Bonnie and Clyde. But Marooned is a conservative, conventional movie. Its message is to trust the government, pray for the best to happen, and follow rules. Marooned is a film for Nixon’s Silent Majority and feels woefully out of place next to this year’s big hit films like Butch Cassidy, Midnight Cowboy, and Goodbye, Columbus.

Two stars.






[December 26, 1969] A Wreath of Stars (the best science fiction of 1969!)

[New to the Journey?  Read this for a brief introduction!]


by Gideon Marcus

We at the Journey have a special treat for you this holiday season.  Look beneath all the discarded paper and shed pine needles and gelt wrappers—why, it's a complete list of The Best Science Fiction (and Fantasy) of 1969!  With SFnal output on the rise, there's a good chance you haven't been able to keep up.

Don't worry; we've got you covered.  Anything on this list is worth reading/watching.  Just peruse the Journey library, settle into your coziest chair, and enjoy the week before New Year's!

Full-page magazine advertisement for a reclining chair. It shows a woman with short black hair, dressed in comfortable pink clothes, sitting with her legs extended horizontally, supported by the reclining chair. She has a white cat on her lap. Next to her is a small bear-shaped sculpture that holds a bouquet of flowers in a raised paw and a tray of fruit on the other paw. The reclining chair is placed on a rug made of a polar bear skin. The illustration has the text: The Soft Life. Additional text below the illustration says: With a Stratolounger reclining chair... stain-protected by Scotchgard Repeller. The Stratolounger life is a whole new way of life. Relax,lean back, put your feet up on the ottoman that pops out. Watch TV or read while having a snack. Lean further back—enjoy The Soft Life! If you spill—just blot. Liquid spills, even oily ones, come right up. Scotchgard Brand Stain Repeller protects the Stratolounger's decorator fabrics. If a stain is ever forced into the weave, it will spot clean and generally, there's no ring. See these and other handsome Stratoloungers in a host of fabrics protected with Scotchgard Repeller at leading furniture and department stores. Below this text are photographs of three varieties of reclining chair. The first one is light brown. Next to it, the text says: Mediterranean Reclining Chair—sleek, cane sliding, richly finished wood, luxuriously reversible seat cushion. Approximately 170 dollars. There is an asterisk at the end of this text. The second photograph is of a light orange reclining chair. Next to it, the text says: Traditional Reclining Chair—richly tufted back, luxurious loose-cushion seat, tapered walnut finish wood legs with casters for easy movement. Approximately 170 dollars. There is an asterisk at the end of this text. The third photograph is of a dark green reclining chair. Next to it, the text says: Club Lounge Reclining Chair—sumptuously proportioned deep back; smartly tailored; easy-roll brass ball casters. Approximately 170 dollars. There is an asterisk at the end of this text. At the bottom left corner of the illustration is the page number 90 and a note with an asterisk that says: Price may vary depending upon location and fabric selection. At the bottom right corner of the illustration is the magazine title HOUSE AND GARDEN.

——
Best Poetry
——

Black-and-white photograph of a woman with short hair talking to two men at a social gathering.
Joanna Russ at last year's Baycon, Harlan Ellison trying to steal her thunder in the background

A Short and Happy Life, by Joanna Russ

Twin Sisters, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Transplant, by Langdon Jones

The Hiroshima Dream, by George MacBeth

Space Miner, by Leslie Norris

Overture I, by John Moat

Tea in a Space-ship, by James Kirkup

It used to be that poetry abounded in professional science fiction.  You can still find it in the fanzines (particularly a lot of cloying, 'I love Spock' stuff in the trekzines), but it's largely died out in the mags for sale.  Luckily, this year we had a compendium of pro-poetry in the form of Frontier of Going: An Anthology of Space Poetry, which provided the last three entries above.

The standout was Joanna Russ' poem, and when you read it, you'll see why.

——
Best Vignettes (1-8 pages)
——

Photograph of a landed airplane seen from the rear right side. The logo on the airplane's tail says PAN-AM over a blue circle crisscrossed with white curved lines.

The Last Flight of Dr. Ain, by James Tiptree, Jr.

A doctor decides the world is too sick to survive… and he makes sure of it by personally spreading disease across the globe.

Pennies, Off a Dead Man's Eyes, by Harlan Ellison

Love knows no allegiance to race…human or otherwise.

Honorable Mention

How I Take Their Measure, by K. M. O'Donnell

Drool, by Vance Aandahl

Are You There, Mr. Jones?, by Stanisław Lem

The Anxiety in the Eyes of the Cricket, by James Sallis

The Schematic Man, by Frederick Pohl

The Killing Ground, by J. G. Ballard

A lot of range and a lot of magazines this time around, from F&SF to New Worlds to Playboy, though both winners were in Galaxy, and it wasn't close.

——
Best Short Stories (9-19 pages)
——

Drawing of a young woman looking upward. A cloud emerges from her partially open lips and floats up in the air. Under her face is a drawing of a wolf. Behind the wolf's front left paw is a little black box. There is a city skyline in the background. The drawing is done on sepia paper.

The Snows Are Melted, the Snows Are Gone, by James Tiptree, Jr.

The answer to Harlan Ellison's A Boy and His Dog (q.v. below), starring a handicapped young woman.

Richmond, Late September, by Fritz Leiber

Edgar Allen Poe meets Baudelaire's twin sister.  Maudlin foretelling of the future ensues.  It's better than it sounds.

Not Long Before the End, by Larry Niven

The fantasy story to end all fantasy stories… literally.  Who knew "nuts-and-bolts" Niven could do magic?

The Last Hurrah of the Golden Horde, by Norman Spinrad

The most chaotic appearance of Jerry Cornelius yet.  He fiddles while a mock-Vegas in the Gobi burns. 

Honorable Mention

Black Snowstorm, by D. F. Jones

Entropy, by Thomas Pynchon

Saboteur, by Ted White

The Ballad of Luna Lil, by Sydney J. Bounds

An Affair with Genius, by Joseph Green

The Place with No Name, by Harlan Ellison

Surface If You Can, by Terry Champagne

To Kill a World, by Irwin Ross

Prisoner in the Ice , by Brian Stableford

Nine Lives, by Ursula K. Le Guin

We've got more entries this year, in part because the venues are so disparate, catering to different tastes.  Not all of us loved all of the stories here, but at least one person did, which means a chunk of our readers will too!

——
Best Novelettes (20-40 pages)
——

Illustration for the story A Boy and His Dog by Harlan Ellison. It shows two partial photographs of a human face; the first face is right-side-up, and the second face is upside-down and partially superimposed over the bottom of the first face.

A Boy and His Dog, by Harlan Ellison

An after-the-bomb story with a twist.  With a name like that, how could there not be?

The Holland of the Mind, by Pamela Zoline

Not terribly SFnal, but too well-crafted to leave out.

Honorable Mention

The Steel General, by Roger Zelazny

Down in the Black Gang, by Philip José Farmer

Creatures of Darkness, by Roger Zelazny

For the Sake of Grace, by Suzette Haden Elgin

When They Openly Walk, by Fritz Leiber

The Timesweepers, by Keith Laumer

Report from Linelos, by Vincent King

The Big Flash, by Norman Spinrad

A Science Fiction Story for Joni Mitchell, by Maxim Jakubowski

Bye, Bye, Banana Bird, by Sonya Dorman

As with the short story section, there were only two stories a lot of people truly enjoyed, but all of these are good reads.  It is notable that this is the first category that we see women (at least, women writing under female names—one never knows!) coming to the fore.  This is a contrast to prior years when women would often be stronger in shorter lengths, largely because F&SF was the one mag that consistently published women.

——
Best Novella (40+ pages)
——

Illustration for the story The Organleggers by Larry Niven. It shows an emaciated man with a tortured expression on his face, lying down in an empty room, with a tube connected to the top of his head. The illustration is done on sepia paper.

The Organleggers, by Larry Niven

An exquisite murder mystery set two centuries from now.  Tremendous detail, a compelling hero, and a tight plot despite the length.

Blood Brother, by James White

A case of mistaken intention pits incomprehensible aliens vs. the medical corps of Sector General.  If you like this series, you'll love this installment.

We All Die Naked, by James Blish

The world is drowning, and only a handful can be saved by fleeing to the Moon.  As Brian put it:

"Would mankind be able to survive without our possessions, and even our waste?  Would we be able to bury Shakespeare, or even personal items which possess only sentimental value, for the sake of the race’s survival?  Blish supposes we wouldn’t."

Honorable Mention

Witch Hunt, by James E. Gunn

The Communicants, by John Sladek

Novellas are an odd duck, length-wise, so we are often starved for choice.  This year, however, though the options were fewer, the quality was pretty darned high.

——
Best Novel/Serial
——

Paperback cover of the book Slaughterhouse-Five. The background of the cover is a very pale yellow. Text at the top of the cover shows the name of the publisher, Delta, and the price: 1.95 dollars in the US and 2.35 dollars in Canada. The title of the novel is shown in big serif letters in an arced shape. Inside the arc is the text: or The Children's Crusade, A New Novel by... and under the arc is the name Kurt Vonnegut Jr. Text at the bottom of the cover quotes a line attributed to The New York Times: an extraordinary success, between quotation marks.

Slaughterhouse Five, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

The story of an American POW during World War 2, culminating in the Dresden firebombing.  Vaguely SFnal, such trappings are really there so the author could approach the traumatic material at a distance.  Big for a reason.

The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula K. Le Guin

An unique setting and an unique problem; a message piece for today aimed at the sexists of tomorrow.

Ubik, by Philip K. Dick

One of Dick's less comprehensible and yet somehow more compelling works, combining a grab-bag of innovations, commentaries on commercialism, and questionings of reality.

The Jagged Orbit, by John Brunner

A novel of worsening race relations in the early 21st Century, told in Brunner's inimitable avante garde style.

The Andromeda Strain, by Michael Crichton

A "scientific thriller" about a mystery plague, and the efforts of five scientists to understand its origin and impact.

Honorable Mention

Isle of the Dead, by Roger Zelazny

The Face in the Frost, by John Bellairs

Operation Changeling, by Poul Anderson

Heiros Gamos, by Josephine Saxton

A Sweet Sweet Summer, by Jane Gaskell

Seahorse in the Sky, by Edmund Cooper

The Unicorn Girl, by Kurland, Michael

Macroscope, by Piers Anthony

We've got it all: fantasy, science fiction, satire, psychedelia.  And more sex than ever.  There's nothing really "conventional" or "traditional" here.  Even the Anderson is more outré than usual.

——
Best Science Fact
——

Illustration on sepia paper. Inside a rectangle with a think black outline is the word CREDO in uppercase letters. Underneath it, additional text says: by Lester del Rey. To the right of these words is a profile drawing of a middle-aged man's head. He is partially bald and is wearing glasses. Text underneath the drawing says the name WILLY LEY in uppercase cursive letters. Additional text under the rectangle says, The First Citizen of the Moon.

Uncertain, Coy, and Hard to Please , by Isaac Asimov

Dr. Isaac Asimov: feminist.  This is a fascinating piece on the second-class history of women in society.  How does a fellow with a troublesome "handsy" problem produce such a brilliant piece on sexism?  I guess we all contain multitudes.

The New Science Fiction: A Conversation between J. G. Ballard & George MacBeth, by George MacBeth

An explanation of Ballard's technique—and thus, behind the scenes of the New Wave as a whole.

Honorable Mention

"On a Gold Vesta … ", by Robert S. Richardson

Salvador Dali: The Innocent As Paranoid, by J. G. Ballard

For Your Information: The Island of Brazil, by Willy Ley

For Your Information: Max Valier and the Rocket-Propelled Airplane, by Willy Ley

Credo: Willy Ley: The First Citizen of the Moon (obituary), by Lester del Rey

It is a sad, yet fitting epitaph for science writer Willy Ley that there are three pieces concerning him this year—two by him, and one about him.  Rest in peace, my friend.

——
Best Magazine/Collection
——

Cover of the magazine New Writings in SF, number 15. The background of the cover is composed of abstract geometrical shapes composed in pointillism, printed in pink. The bottom half of the cover has a semitransparent green rectangle where these names appear in black letters: Joseph Green, Christopher Priest, Michael G. Coney, Arthur Sellings, Keith Roberts, Vincent King. Further down is the line: Edited by John Carnell. At the bottom of the green rectangle is the line: Dobson Science Fiction.

New Writings 14-15: 3.7 stars, 3 Star nominees, (two anthologies)

F&SF: 3.1 stars, 11 Star nominees (12 issues)

IF: 3.1 stars, 5 Star nominees (11 issues)

New Worlds: 3 stars, 5 Star nominees (11 issues)

Galaxy: 3 stars, 12 Star nominees (11 issues)

Vision of Tomorrow: 2.9 stars, 2 Star nominees (3 issues)

Venture: 2.8 stars, 0 Star nominees (3 issues)

Analog: 2.7 stars, 1 Star nominee (12 issues)

Fantastic: 2.6 stars, 1 Star nominee (six issues)

Amazing: 2.6 stars, 0 Star nominees (six issues)

Orbit 5: 2.6 stars, 1 Star nominee, (one anthology)

Famous Science Fiction 1.9 stars, 0 Star nominees (one issue)

Frontier of Going: An Anthology of Space Poetry 3 star nominees (one anthology)

The main conclusions we draw from this line-up are:

  1. New Writings really pushes Kris' buttons!  (I generally rate the stories therein about one star less than Kris does, but Kris is more enamored of the new style than me).
  2. F&SF is living up to its reputation (it won the Hugo this year).
  3. Analog really needs a new editor.

——
Best Publisher
——

Paperback cover of the book The Jagged Orbit by John Brunner. Text at the top of the cover says: An Ace Science Fiction Special, followed by the number 38120 and the price, 95 cents. The cover illustration shows three hooded figures in close-quarters combat. Their bodies are painted in a cubist style, as is the reddish background skyline.

Ace: 3 Star nominees

Hodder & Stoughton 2 Star nominees

Knopf: 2 Star nominees

Doubleday: 1 Star nominee

Delacorte 1 Star nominee

MacMillan 1 Star nominee

F&SF 1 Star nominee

Ballantine 1 Star nominee

Pyramid 1 Star nominee

Avon 1 Star nominee

My friend, Tom Purdom, said this of Ace a few years ago:

"Ace is an attractive beginner’s market because you just have to satisfy two requirements. You have to create a good action-adventure plot and you have to set it in a colorful, interesting future. The editor of Ace Books, Donald A. Wollheim, has been a science fiction fan since was a teenager in the 1930s. He grew up reading the science fiction pulps and sometimes argues that science fiction is a branch of children’s literature—a genre whose core audience consisted of bright teenage boys. He doesn’t object if your novel includes things like good prose, interesting characters, and an original view of the future. But anybody who understands science fiction and its history can look at the covers of a rack full of Ace Doubles and know what the basic requirements are."

And so, Ace combines action, adventure and (often) solid writing—and a lot of ouput.  A recipe for sweeping this category every year!

——
Best Artist
——

Paperback cover of the book Conan of Cimmeria. Text at the top of the cover says the names: Robert E. Howard, L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter. Additional text says, The mighty barbarian in his blaze of youth braves dark weird demons in time-lost lands. Under this text is the book's title in big pink letters. The bottom two-thirds of the cover are a painting of three men in armor and winter clothes fighting on a snowy slope. There is a white mountain in the background. Small text at the top left corner of this illustration says the line: Lancer Books, the numbers 75-072, and the price, 95 cents.

Paperback cover of the book Bran Mak Morn. At the top left corner of the cover is the name of the publisher, Dell, the number 0774, and the price, 60 cents. Text at the center top says in white letters: Savage! Furious! Thrilling! The mightiest adventures of the greatest hero of them all. Under this text is the book's title in big yellow letters. Text at the bottom center of the cover says: by Robert E. Howard, famous creator of Conan. The cover illustration shows a male humanoid character carrying a short sword and a shield, and almost no clothes, leading a horde of similar creatures who are carrying severed heads impaled on spikes.

Cover for Eerie magazine, number 23. The title of the magazine is written in big purple letters with white rugged outlines. Under the title is the line: What deathless secrets fill the catacombs—beyond Nefera's Tomb? See Page 5. At the bottom right corner of the cover is the line, Rey Collector Comics, and the price, 50 cents. The cover illustration shows a woman in minimal clothes reclining against a big column of orange stone. Standing around her, partially obscured by shadows, are a leopard and two men who are carrying ancient weaponry.

Frank Frazetta

Cover for Galaxy magazine, October 1969. It announces the stories Truly Human by Damon Knight, God of Cool by J. W. Schutz, The Soul Machine by A. Bertram Chandler, and Tomorrow Cum Laude, advertised with the line: Hayden Howard's novella about the future's deadly campus combat! The cover illustration is a collage of a male head drawn in red, a Black woman in a flower dress dancing, a sculpture of a naked Greek soldier, a model of an atom nucleus enclosed in a metallic cage, and a policeman carrying a lantern and a machine gun. The background of the illustration is composed of many intersecting colored circles.

Gray Morrow

Paperback cover of the book The Shadow People. At the top left corner of the cover is the name of the publisher, Dell, and the number 7820. At the top right corner of the cover is the price, 60 cents. Text in uppercase says: They came from the underearth to take over the world. Next to it is the book's title in big yellow letters. At the bottom of the cover is the author's name, Margaret St. Clair. The cover illustration is a painting of a half-naked muscular man holding a sword aloft with both arms. The background is reddish-orange.

Jeff Jones

Paperback cover of the book The Phoenix and the Mirror by Avram Davidson. Text at the top of the cover says the line: An Ace Science Fiction Special, the number 66100, and the price, 75 cents. The cover illustration shows a man in a black robe working in a chemical laboratory with assorted jars, tubes, and bottles. He is reading a thick book. There is a woman's face in the shadows behind him.

Leo & Diane Dillon

Honorable Mention

Cover of the magazine Analog, March 1969. Next to the magazine's title at the top left corner of the cover are the lines: Science Fiction, Science Fact. Text at the top right corner shows the price, 60 cents. The cover announces the story Trap by Christopher Anvil, The cover illustration shows a male humanoid creature with pointed ears, a long tail and hair all over his body, standing next to a window. He's wearing a holster for a revolver. Through the window, six humanoid creatures with crocodile heads are carrying various pointy weapons.

Frank Kelly Freas

Two-page black-and-white illustration showing a big war tank of curved shapes next to a man carrying a futuristic square-shaped gun. The text at the bottom left says the lines: A Relic of War, Illustrated by Vincent diFate.

Vincent diFate

Black-and-white illustration of two men seen from behind, wearing astronaut suits without helmets, looking at a floating metallic head with no mouth. Two very thin metallic arms are attached to the sides of the floating head.

Gerard Quinn

Colorful illustration of a black woman and a white man sitting inside a bus. At the top half of the image, the metallic bars inside the bus transform into concentric curved lines in an abstract landscape, where a statue of a naked woman can be seen.

Ron Walotsky

This list keeps growing every year.  The recent paperback boom is partly responsible, but also, we're seeing each magazine develop its own stable of promising artists.  Interestingly, perennial Schoennherr didn't make the list. Jack Gaughan, a favorite of everyone else, never seems to make much impression on the Journey staff.

——
Best Dramatic Presentation
——

Black-and-white still frame from the TV series Doctor Who. It shows a man's scared face repeated five times.

Doctor Who: The War Games

The final chapter for the Second Doctor is a tour de fource.  A bit like Fred Hoyle's book, October the First is Too Late!.

Star Trek: All Our Yesterdays

Another time travel episode, and another opportunity for Spock to smile…but this one is so beautifully done, it doesn't belabor the clichés.

What A Lovely War!

Satirical and sharp as it is minimal, it is the perfect anti-war piece for our times.

Head

Is it science fiction?  Well, it's something—and as a swan song for The Monkees, it can't be beat.  I guess if it's SFnal, its closest analog would be New Worlds magazine.

Honorable Mention

Out of the Unknown: The Last Lonely Man

Change of Mind

Star Trek: Whom Gods Destroy

We didn't get a lot of good choices this year.  As Kris observed, it's easier to crank out million-dollar kitchen-sink films and hope for a 100x return rather than produce a $10 million film and hope for a 10x return, even if the profits are roughly the same, all told.

——
Best Comic Book
——

Inner page of a comic book. It is composed of six panels. In the top left panel, a monstrous red bird flies over a line of soldiers on a stone bridge over seawater. Narrator text says: Suddenly... One of the soldiers says: Aaaaaah! Look! In the top right panel, three more monstrous birds appear and fly toward the soldiers, who start running. Narrator text says: Scarlet wings flashed in the sunlight, as a cloud of flying monsters dived to the attack! In the middle panel, which spans the page's full width, the birds are snatching the men with their claws and dropping them into the sea. Narrator text says: Half of the Caton guards fled back the way they had come... and it was they who suffered! In the bottom left panel, a soldier is talking to a man wearing an ancient-style helmet. Narrator text says: It was soon over. From the shelter of the trees, Trigo and the rest saw the winged terrors fly away. The soldier says: Half of my men wiped out! But we still outnumber you by more than two to one, Trigo! The bottom middle panel shows a landscape of snowy mountains. Narrator text says: The party pressed on. The following evening, the jungle thinned... and presently they were standing spellbound before a towering mountain range. The bottom right panel shows two older soldiers and a man in an ancient-style helmet. Narrator text says: Trigo's voice was hushed with awe. One of the older soldiers says: When we stand on that highest crest, we shall look down into a secret valley, and see the lost city of Dorana!

Trigan Empire (Look & Learn)

Cover of X-Men magazine, number 58. The illustration shows the superheroes Iceman, Jean Grey, Cyclops, Angel and Beast trapped inside a hemispherical glass dome. Their figures are enclosed in concentric orange lines and the orange silhouette of a screaming man wearing a helmet. Text at the bottom right corner of the cover says: Enter... the man called Havok!

X-Men (Marvel)

Honorable Mention

Amazing Spider-Man (Marvel)
Captain America (Marvel)
Doctor Strange (Marvel)
Nick Fury: Agent of SHIELD (Marvel)
Night Master (Showcase)
Tiny Tania In Space (Sally)
Valerian & Laureline (Dargaud)

A nice mix of Marvel titles and stuff from overseas.  National (D.C.) is conspicuously absent.  They're pretty bad this year.

——
Best Fanzine
——

Title banner for the fanzine Science Fiction Times, Number 465, April 1969. Over a background of a starry sky and a thin, wiry spaceship, the tagline says in elegant cursive letters: The World of Tomorrow Today.

Science Fiction Times
Cosmos
Riverside Quarterly
Speculation
Yandro
Trumpet
T-Negative
Inside Star Trek

I have some reservations about giving SFT the crown since it stopped publication in April, but it got the most votes.  Trumpet is noteworthy for including Niven's "Down in Flames", which reveals The Truth behind his Known Space stories.  The last two 'zines are both put out by Ruth Berman, the former of which is a particularly literate trekfiction mag.



And that's that for this year!  Season's Greetings to all, and here's to another year of terrific science fiction!

Vinyl record jacket, titled Switched on Santa! The merriest Moog synthesizer plays Christmas favorites. Text at the bottom right corner says: Featuring Sy Mann on the Moog synthesizer! Under this line, the text announces the songs White Christmas, Tijuana Christmas, The Little Drummer Boy, My Favorite Things, When Christmas Comes, Angels We Have Heard On High, Jingle Bells, Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town, What Child Is This, Joy to the World, Silent Night, Christmas Bells, and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The image on the record jacket is a photograph of Santa Claus sitting next to specialized equipment in a sound recording studio, holding an end of a headphone diadem next to his right ear.



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[December 24, 1969] At Last The 1980 Show: New Worlds, January 1970


by Fiona Moore

Here it is, nearly 1970! What does the UK have to look forward to in the next decade? Already we’ve got a new Doctor Who, a new all-live-action series from the Andersons, and a new currency is coming in. I hope we’ll join the common market and help build a revived Europe. I for one am feeling optimistic.

Meanwhile, what is my favourite provocative pop artist up to? Miss Ono and her husband have launched a festive anti-war campaign, with a giant poster in Piccadilly Circus (and eleven other cities around the world) reading WAR IS OVER IF YOU WANT IT. It makes a change from adverts for American soft drinks and I appreciate the sentiment.
Poster with the giant words: War Is Over! If You Want It. In smaller print: Happy Christmas from John & Yoko. Below the poster is an attribution to the website Imagine Peace dot com.None of the photos I took turned out, but here's the art for the poster.

On to New Worlds. Who are making up for the last couple of issues by giving us some actual SF, with actual illustrations. There’s even a story by a woman! It’s not Pam Zoline though; she’s contributing to this issue, but as an illustrator not a writer. I’ll take what I can get.

Cover for the magazine New Worlds, number 197. On a purple background is a drawing of an angry, snarly face in blue. The words on the cover say: Forget 1970. What about 1980?Cover by R. Glyn Jones.

Lead-In

Saying (rightly) that the media is overwhelmed with predictions of 1970, which are becoming “as dull as the next moonshot” the editors are celebrating their theme of looking forward to 1980. How many (if any) of the stories actually follow the theme? Let’s find out!

Michael Butterworth: Concentrate 3

Drawing of an astronaut wearing a helmet. Stars are reflected on the helmet visor.Illustration by Charles Platt.

A very short prose piece followed by a poem. I like the imagery of an astronaut freaking out with the feeling of stars crawling over his face but otherwise it seems to read like several opening lines mashed together. Nothing to do with 1980. Two stars.

Graham Charnock: The Suicide Machines

Drawing that references the sitting naked woman from the painting Luncheon on the Grass by Édouard Manet. Next to the woman sits a man in a suit and tie and only the most basic outline of a face, with two dots representing eyes.Illustration by R. Glyn Jones, who gets everywhere this issue.

A more developed imagining of a near-future Britain, in an Oxford which has been given fully over to tourism by dull and tedious businesspeople, with “feedies”, a sort of android, as guides and entertainers. Jaded with sex, they seek instead to force the feedies to commit suicide for their pleasure. No indication that this takes place in 1980. Three stars.

R. Glyn Jones: Two Poems, Six Letters

As the title says. Two quatrains, containing only six letters. Not sure the experiment does all that much. Nothing to do with 1980. One star.

Ed Bryant: Sending the Very Best

A fun short piece about near-future man buying a holographic sensory-stimulation greeting card, which leaves the reader wondering wickedly about the recipient and the occasion. Nothing to do with 1980. Four stars.

Hilary Bailey: Baby Watson 1936-1980

Close-up black-and-white photograph of the face of a baby with open mouth, possibly yawning or crying.Photo by Gabi Nasemann.

This is one of the standout stories for me this issue, if one of the least SF (though one of the only ones to involve 1980). It’s a story in the Heat Death of the Universe vein, making the familiar strange by looking at the lives of ordinary women, with the same surname and born in the same year. It’s a sad story for me, highlighting the way in which the scientific and creative potential of women is squandered on a world not yet ready to accept them as equals. Five stars.

Harlan Ellison: The Glass Teat

Drawing of a rounded rectangle like the screen of a cathode television set, with big letters saying THE GLASS TEAT.Design by unknown artist.

Ellison saves himself some work by writing his usual TV column, but as if it were 1980. Although I wouldn’t have known that if the Lead-In hadn’t told me. It’s a 1980 where the US is at war in various developing nations, has a liar for a President, and is subject to rampant acts of terrorism at the hands of its own citizens. I suppose it’s a “if this goes on…” piece. Two stars.

John Clark: What is the Nature of the Bead-Game?

Grainy black-and-white photograph of an airplane seen from behind. The lower third of the photograph has a metallic fence.Photo by Roy Cornwall.

An experimental essay, containing 25 statements and questions the writer apparently posed at the 1969 Third International Writers’ Conference. The aim appears to be the usual New Worlds trick of juxtaposing sentences and having the reader discern meaning from the juxtaposition. Nothing to do with 1980. Three stars.

Michael Moorcock: The Nature of the Catastrophe

Nice to see Jerry Cornelius back with us, though I confess after the efforts of other writers Moorcock’s original version is a little disappointing. Too few descriptions of Jerry’s clothes, I think. There’s a brief mention of 1980 in order to keep this in with the theme, though there are also brief mentions of 1931, 1969, 1970, 1936 and many other years. Otherwise it’s just your usual Cornelius stuff. Two stars.

Thomas M. Disch: Four Crosswords of Graded Difficulty

Not really my favourite Disch (ha ha) of the year. Experimental poems; the first one made me laugh but the others seemed not very interesting. Nothing to do with 1980. One star.

J.G. Ballard: Coitus 80: A Description of the Sexual Act in 1980

Collage illustration of a female body. It is composed of parts of incompatible sizes and positions, including one gigantic breast, additional breasts on the legs, a mechanical knee, a liquid-seeming hand, and a baby-shaped foot.Illustration by Charles Platt.

Familiar Ballard stuff this: a brief description of a sexual encounter interspersed with clinical descriptions of plastic surgery related to the genitals and breasts, in order to convey a sense of scientific alienation behind a simple, familiar act. I confess I hadn’t thought what goes into a vaginoplasty or phalloplasty before. It at least takes place in 1980. Three stars.

Brian W. Aldiss: The Secret of Holman-Hunt

A mock essay about an incredible breakthrough taking place in 1980 (yes!). The narrator discovers a way of unlocking the potential of the mind using the art of pre-Raphaelite painter William Holman-Hunt. No more implausible than The Stars My Destination, I suppose, but it failed to hold my attention. Two stars.

John T. Sladek: 198-, a Tale of ‘Tomorrow’

Drawing of a chaotic agglomeration of outlines of people and rockets, the rockets being of comparable size to the people. The illustration is oriented sideways. Text on the right margin says: Things in the World. 1980 Drawing, Zoline.Illustration by Pam Zoline.

Sladek gives us a plausibly dystopian 1980s where computers can call each other up from anywhere in the world, where people’s fertility and happiness are controlled by drugs, and where everything is made of plastic. I find this vision of the future sadly compelling, though of course Sladek has to remind us that he’s Sladek through cutting the columns up and putting them out of order and sideways. Four stars.

M John Harrison, The Nostalgia Story

Another of these stories that are made up of disconnected snippets with the reader invited to make their own connections. One of these is entitled “Significant Moments of 1980” so I suppose it’s on theme. Two stars.

Joyce Churchill: Big Brother is Twenty-One

Drawing of a man's face. The upper right corner of the illustration appears to be missing; the outline is rugged, and a big rodent is drawn on that space, as if it were eating the illustration.Illustration by James Cawthorn.

A short essay on Nineteen Eighty-Four, concluding that Huxley was closer to the mark than Orwell: the coming dystopia will most likely be a capitalist one in which we convince ourselves we are happy through the acquisition of material goods, rather than a socialist one based on a war footing. Not exactly looking forward to 1980, but at this point I’ll stretch the definition. Four stars.

Jack Trevor Story: The Wind in the Snottygobble Tree part 3

Black-and-white photograph of a man taking a garbage can to the back of a garbage truck.Photo by Roy Cornwall.

This isn’t getting any better as it goes on, though Story is making it clearer what the situation is with his protagonist (he’s not actually a secret agent, just pretending he is, however, in doing so, he’s wound up being mistaken for a genuine one). Nothing to do with 1980. One star.

Book Reviews: M John Harrison and John Clute (rendered as “John Cute” in the table of contents)

The usual suspects review the usual volumes. Nothing to do with 1980.

Obituary for James Colvin

Spoof obituary for a pseudonym of Barrington J. Bayley and Michael Moorcock. Nothing to do with 1980.

Out of 17 items, eight actually have something to do with the 1980s, broadly defined, and only five have anything to do with 1980 specifically. Nonetheless, this does feel like a more SF-related and livelier New Worlds than we’ve had in a while. Perhaps the new decade will give them a new lease on life? We can only hope!



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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction