[November 3, 1964] State of the Art of War(games)


by Gideon Marcus

Where we stand

Just over a decade ago, there were no board wargames.  Back then, if you wanted to simulate the field of battle on a scale smaller than 1:1, your only real option was to buy or cast an army of tin soldiers and fight per the few various rules sets that had been developed. 

And people did just that, mind you, whether they were playing Fletcher Pratt's naval wargames or H.G. Wells' Little Wars.

In 1954, Charles S. Roberts started a modest revolution with his game, Tactics.  Now, armies could be represented with cardboard chits instead of expensive figures.  And for nearly ten years, Roberts stood as virtual king of an entire class of games.  With the exception of Games Research's Diplomacy, Roberts' company, Avalon Hill, produced every board wargame ever made.  By 1961, his company war producing two a year (as well as several general audience games).

But in December 1963, straitened circumstances caused Roberts to sell the company over to Eric Dott, head of Monarch Services, Avalon Hill's creditor.  Roberts' friend and colleague, Tom Shaw, is now at the helm.

This turnover does not seem to have affected the wargame company from Baltimore.  Two games have been launched this year, both World War 2 titles: Afrika Korps, a simulation of Rommel's drive in North Africa, and Midway, depicting the savage naval battle between Japan and the United States near the Pacific island base. 

Of course, I was bit by the gaming bug right at the start, and I've done my best to keep on top of all the new games.  With the exception of the poorly rated Chancellorsville and the obtuse Gettysburg, I think I've played them all.  And that means I get to share my experiences with you on the current state of the art of wargaming.  Read on…and perhaps you'll get bit by the bug!

Breakout

In 1958, Roberts developed a sequel to Tactics imaginatively called Tactics II.  This game didn't simulate an historical battle.  Instead, "Red" faced "Blue" in a match that was geographically dissimilar, but with identical armies.  It was with this game that Roberts popularized a number of elements common to wargames today.

First, the idea that (as opposed to chess or checkers) that you can move all of your pieces during your turn.  This was a revolution, and it took time for new players to wrap their heads around it!

The second was the "Combat Results Table" (CRT).  Tactics II set the mold for wargames, incorporating a movement phase followed by a combat phase.  All units that ended their turn next to an enemy had to fight them, the results of said battle determined by the roll of a die and consultation with the CRT.  At odds of 1 to 1, or even 2 to 1, it was a brutal chart — more dangerous to the attacker than the defender. 

But at 3 to 1, the attacker was assured of success.  The enemy would have to retreat or would be outright eliminated, sometimes taking an equal number of attackers with them.  The odds of defender elimination rose as the odds increased in favor of the attacker. 

It was a simple concept, and yet, so profound was its impact in its elegance, that the think tank, Rand, approached Roberts.  It seemed that his CRT was strikingly similar to ones they were using in their own games!  A sheepish Roberts explained that he'd made his in about 15 minutes, developed from the textbook maxim that odds of 3 to 1 were considered the minimum necessary to guarantee victory.

That's the history — how's the game?  Well, Janice and I took a stab at it, but quite frankly, it didn't appeal.  The lack of historical underpinning, and the complete parity of the forces gave us a sense of "why bother".  Perhaps if we'd played the advanced game, which has more bells and whistles.

Also, we had been spoiled by the more advanced games that Roberts developed in the '60s.  Once you see the improvements made, you'll understand what we mean.

So, two stars for Tactics II, but coupled with admiration for the revolution it was.

The Great Invasion

There is no question that the most "popular" war of the last several centuries is World War 2.  This makes sense — all of us served, or had family who served.  It was global and thus rich in settings and scenarios.  It was a "good" war with clear good guys and bad guys.

It's no surprise, then, that four of the last five wargames put out by Avalon Hill (and at least the next two, per early reports) all have WW2 as their setting.

The first in this series, D-Day, covers the most dramatic American land engagement of the war: the assault on and liberation of Nazi-occupied France.

As with Tactics II, a lot of firsts were introduced in this game.  Unlike its historical predecessors, Gettysburg,Chancellorsville, D-Day didn't simulate a battle but a whole theater of war.  Moreover, instead of having a fixed setup, with units occupying (more or less) the places they held on the eve of the depicted battle, D-Day is the first alternate history wargame.

For the Allied player may choose one of seven invasion beaches, Normandy among them.  And the Germans largely have free reign on how to set up their forces in anticipation.  This means that every game has the potential to be completely different from the last.

Another big distinguishing element from Tactics II, though it was pioneered in Chancellorsville, are the hexagonal "squares" on the mapboard.  This was an innovation Roberts definitely borrowed from Rand's wargames; these innovative hexes allow equidistant movement in six directions, as opposed to squares, on which diagonal movement is greater than movement through the sides.

Needless to say, my friend John and I were eager to try out this behemoth of a game.  After a false start — it's really easy to lose as the Germans if your setup is suboptimal — we settled down for a twenty hour slog across France.  The first time out, I'd done a simple storm across the Channel into Picardy.  This time, I was experimenting with the southern option, going in from the Mediterranean.  That meant I'd flanked most of the German defenses.  I got lucky and managed to spill out into central France before John could solidify his defense, and so, halfway through the game, I had all of my invasion forces ashore, arrayed against a precarious line of his troops.

What ensued was a methodical, tedious grind as I slowly pushed him back, hex by hex.  Attempts at clever breakthroughs involving paratroop operations in Holland resulted in failure.  Time and time again, 50/50 die rolls went against me.  Finally, at the banks of the Rhine, I made a couple of desperate die tosses…and lost.

We were highly impressed with the game at that point.  It had afforded us several sessions of entertainment and had come down to a virtual draw.  But there was a nagging feeling tugging at the back of our brains.  While the opening rounds of the game were exciting and varied, we had a suspicion that it always came down to the mid-game slog…and dozens of hours of grinding to a conclusion.

To explore our concerns, we teamed up, working on the optimum German defense.  We found that, no matter what, the Allies can always crack through somewhere, and at that point, it's just a matter of time before the Allied behemoth is on the continent, working its way toward the Reich. 

Conclusion: D-Day is a great game to play once or twice, but it pales after that.

Four stars for the first games.  Two beyond.

Duel in the Desert

The next two games that Avalon Hill released after D-Day were Waterloo and Stalingrad, games I have reviewed in prior articles.  The first was a set piece battle a la Chancellorsville; the second an operation monster similar to D-Day.

The latest release, Afrika Korps, lies somewhere inbetween the two in scope.  A simulation of the battle for North Africa, 1941-42, it pits a powerful, mobile German force against a ragtag but ever increasing band of Allied defenders.  As with prior releases, there are a couple of interesting innovations. 

For one, logistics is not abstract, as in D-Day, or not a concern at all, as in Waterloo.  Instead, supply trucks are physical units you drive around, and they are expended in an attack — which can leave your aggressors high and dry even after a successful assault!

Also, because of the scale and nature of the desert terrain, moving units along a road doesn't just confer a +1 movement bonus; you get a whopping +10!  Also, the Germans have an immortal Rommel unit who confers an additional +2 movement bonus to accompanying troops.  That means that there are German units that can move a ridiculous 24 hexes in a single turn.

That kind of mobility and the lack of defensive terrain (no river lines, for instance) makes for a much more fluid game.  Units dart around, forward and back, trying to encircle the enemy and cut them off from supply while at the same time, trying to prevent being encircled themselves.  Rather than a slow slogfest, like D-Day, Stalingrad, or even Waterloo to a degree, Afrika Korps affords and rewards daring play. 

Unfortunately, a lot of the game is luck based.  In order to keep the Germans from stomping the Allies, and to model the interdiction of Axis transport by the British navy, there is a chance every turn that the fascists' supply trucks don't show up.  Enough turns like that, and the Germans become unable to do much before the defenders build up their forces. 

Morever, the Axis must take both El Alamein and Tobruch to win, and assaulting Tobruch is always a risky proposition.  Afrika Korps, like its predecessors, uses the exact same CRT as Tactics II.  There's a one in three chance a powerful unit gets destroyed in a 3 to 1 attack, the best the Germans will be able to muster.  And if the Germans lose one of their two big tank units, that's a huge blow.  That's not counting all the supply die rolls, which are often 50/50.

What this boils down to is that there's an awful lot of luck that goes into each game.  That may be realistic, but it's also frustrating.  Janice and I had (and are having) a lot of fun playing Afrika Korps, but these issues make it hard to give it more than three stars.

Come out and play!

Financial difficulties aside, Avalon Hill knows it's got a growing audience.  To that end, the company has launched a bimonthly newsletter, The General, in which new games are announced, players discuss strategy, and lonely players find each other for local contests.  It's a brilliant idea, and while the articles range from mildly interesting to somewhat sophomoric, there's no question it helps knit the community together. 

Heck, it's even inspired us to build our own network of players.  Because whatever the issues with the individual games, wargaming is an exciting new hobby.  It stretches the mind, enhances understanding of history, and is a lot of fun.

Perhaps you fancy yourself a future Napoleon, Wavell, or Xenobia — come join us!  We'd love to swap war stories…


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[November 1, 1964] Time (sharing) travel


by Ida Moya

New Toys for Los Alamos

As the Traveler said, things have really been heating up in Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory (LASL). And what with President Kennedy being taken from us so traumatically last year, it has all been too much. We have been struggling with national security while mourning the loss of our leader, and also attending to a deluge of new computers that are coming into the lab. Things have calmed down a little so I am now able to share a few secrets with you again.

Page from LA-1 document
Page from the Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory report LA-1

I've been busy helping with the preparation of the upcoming declassification of the Los Alamos Primer. This is the very first official technical report we produced at LASL, numbered LA-1. It is based on 5 lectures introducing the principles of nuclear weapons. These lectures were given in 1943 by LASL librarian Charlotte Serber’s husband, the physicist Robert Serber. You bet it's release took a long time to get this approved. Doing the work to cross out all those “Secret Limited” stamps and restamp each page with "Unclassified" also took some time.

Los Alamos is so important to the nation’s top-secret defense work that we are able to commandeer the first of each of the fastest computers manufactured. We had Serial no. 1 of the IBM 701 “Defense Calculator” in 1953. LASL also tested one of the first of 8 IBM 7030 “Stretch” computers, which even with its uptime shortcomings can calculate so fast that some people call it a “Supercomputer.”

I’m sure I also told you that we finally received our IBM 7090 computer. This equipment is being used for big science calculations around atomic energy, guided missile control, strategic planning (cryptanalysis, weather prediction, game theory), and jet engine design. I'm sure it is no surprise when I tell you we are using it to simulate nuclear explosions. This computer also has what they call an “upgrade,” the addition of more memory and input-output capability. The upgraded computer is called an IBM 7094.

Scientists at LASL, Lawrence Livermore Radiation Laboratory, and Massachusetts Institute of Technology have been working on better ways for computer operators to use the IBM 7094. Rather than custom-writing each computer operation and calculation that have to be done, they are working on a kind of “supervisor” to allow for more than one person to use the computer at the same time. This "operating system" is called CTSS or Compatible Time Sharing System.

Robert Fano sitting at a teletype
I don't have a current picture of Marge, but here is MIT Professor Robert Fano using CTSS from a Teletype ASR 35.

Sharing the Wealth

It's difficult to convey just how important this will be. Computers are hideously expensive things, often costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. They are also vital for any scientific institution's operations. Currently, only one person at a time can use them, which results in one of two situations. Either one person at a time has a monopoly on the machine during for the time it takes to compose and enter a program into the machine (incredibly inefficient) or programs are written "off-line" and run in a "batch". This latter solution ensures that the computer is always running, but it means no one can access the computer in real-time, and it might take days to get results (or notice that the program failed to run correctly!)

With time-sharing, several people can use a computer at once, running different programs in real-time. While the performance might not be as efficient for the computer, since it is accommodating multiple processes at once, the increased efficiency for the operator should more than make up for it.

One of my colleagues at MIT, Marjorie Merwin-Dagget, co-wrote a paper with Robert C. Daly and MIT lab head Fernando J. Corbato (Corby) about the CTSS operating system. You can have a look at it here An Experimental TIme Sharing System.

The Mother of Invention

Marge majored in math, taught for a couple of years, then found a position doing calculations and differential equations at an engineering lab. In the mid-50s, one of Marge’s female colleagues at this lab was sent to MIT to learn about the Whirlwind computer, and when this colleague came back, she taught her about how to code for Whirlwind.

Marge then leveraged this knowledge to code applications for a card punch calculator, an IBM 407 accounting machine, which was much quicker than the manual equipment their lab had been using. This clever coding work helped her land a job from Prof. Frank Verzuh in the MIT computer center. Marge got her friend Robert "Bob" Daly a job there too, because he was so skilled programming the IBM 407.

IBM 407 Accounting Machine showing detail of plugboard.
The IBM 407 Accounting Machine is "programmed" by changing wires on this plugboard.

One of Marge's first assignments was to compare assembly language programming to FORTRAN programming. Her findings are that FORTRAN is quicker to use and easier for other programmers to understand. She quickly became the FORTRAN expert of her group. She even got to work with the brilliant John McCarthy. John has been promoting the notion of timesharing computer systems at MIT and beyond. These computers are so fast that, John reasons, that several people can use them at once.

Marge tells me that Corby thought she and Bob are the best programmers on the staff. CTSS started  as a demo, to demonstrate the feasibility of computer timesharing. This demo turned into a viable system, something people wanted to actually use. She worked one-on-one a lot with Corby, rehashing the problems. They ended up working a lot at odd hours, staying up late going over listings and working out the problems. Kind of like those “hackers” I told you about last year. She was so excited when she told me that it finally worked for two Flexowriters.

Fernando Corbato stands amidst an IBM 7090 computer system.
MIT's Fernando Corbato standing amidst some of an IBM 7090 computer system at MIT.

Corby worked on programming the supervisor and queueing, while Marge took the task of coding interrupt handling, saving the state of the machine, commands, character handling, and a method for inputting and editing lines for the demos. Bob Daly was best at translating this to the mechanical working of the computer.

After co-writing this paper, Marge got married and took a leave of absence after her first child was born. She did return to MIT last year (1963), and is working part-time on smaller support projects outside the mainstream of CTSS development. It’s troubling how difficult it is for a woman to juggle fulfilling technical work with the demands of raising a young family.

Things to Come

Next time, I will tell you about our newest Supercomputer, the CDC 6600. This remarkable machine, designed by that wag Seymour Cray, is being installed in Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory right now. It is so fast and hot that it has to be cooled by Freon, which is making for a lot of fuss with air conditioning technicians coming and going to the lab. I spend a lot of time making copies of "Site Preparation Guide" manuals for everyone from the managers to the technicians. There's a lot more to these computers than just programming languages, that's for sure.  I hear that IBM is working on a new computer system, the 360. One of its requirements is that the pieces be able to fit through standard doors, and ride in standard elevators. Guess buyers are getting tired of having to break through walls to get their computers installed!

CDC 6600 computer system
Installation manual photo of the CDC 6600. Look at that display console with the two round screens, perfect decor for your evil lair.


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[October 30, 1964] The Deadly Barrier (November 1964 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Trapped on the wrong side

In the 1940s, the sound barrier was as mighty a wall as the Maginot line.  Planes approaching Mach One lost control of their wings, heat built up and melted vital components — the demon living in this wall refused to let any pass.

It wasn't until 1947, when Captain Chuck Yeager took to the skies in his rocket-propelled X-1, that the barrier was first breached.

Our genre has its own deadly wall. If left unpierced, it leaves a reader like those poor, challenging planes and pilots of yore: broken and dispirited. It is the Three Star barrier, the divide between fine and feh — and this month, five of the six science fiction magazines that came out in the English-speaking world failed to break through it.

Sure, some issues made brave attempts.  Both New Worlds and IF came right to the edge, the latter with some memorable stories, and the former maintaining bog-standard mediocrity down the line. 

But timidity breaks no records.  Playing it safe pierces no barriers.

Cele Goldsmith's mags, Amazing and Fantastic, both fell well short of the mark, managing only 2.6 stars.  Perhaps if she'd lassoed the best parts of both of this month's issues together, she might have managed a breach.

And the less said about the struggling Fantasy and Science Fiction (also 2.6 stars), the better.  Pour one out for a faded glory, folks.

An Analog to failure

That leaves the November 1964 Analog.  Can Campbell's mag, once the undisputed leader of the genre, succeed where all its compatriots have failed?  Read on…


by John Schoenherr

Invasion by Washing Water, by D.R. Barber

But, first, this message.

Are you a British astronomer?  Are you tired of having your photographic negatives eaten by bacteria?  Do you want to know why your shots of celestial bodies get ruined periodically by fuzz and rot?  Well never fear!  D.R. Barber has the answer:

Invaders from Venus.

Yes, Mr. Barber has determined that, when the Earth and Venus are aligned just right, and a major geomagnetic storm is raging, that the conditions are perfect for Venusian microbes to land in England to destroy our film.  Of course, this only seems to happen in England because of vagaries of our atmospheric currents.  And it's impossible for there to be a terrestrial origin for the bugs.  Oh no.

Sigh.  Only in Analog.  One star.

Gunpowder God, by H. Beam Piper


by John Schoenherr

Our first attempt to break the Three Star barrier involves a sideways leap.  Veteran SFictioneer Piper writes of Calvin Morrison, Corporal in the Pennsylvania State Police of Earth — our Earth. Through a freak accident, caused by careless activities of the universe-traveling Paratime authority, Morrison is warped to another Earth.

In this timeline, Indo-Europeans went east instead of west, crossing the Siberian land bridge, and colonizing the Americas.  Come this world's 1964, the eastern seaboard is a patchwork of feudal kingdoms on the brink of a gunpowder revolution.  Calvin Morrison, a Korean war veteran and all-around man of action, is perfectly placed to become a big wheel, the titular "Gunpowder God".  Very soon, he is "Kalvan", organizing the troops of Hostigos against the Nostori Hordes and their tepid allies, the Principality of Sask. 

But the agents of the Level One timeline, sole possessors of the secret of timeline travel, are rushing to stop Kalvan before he gives away Paratime's game…

Piper has basically recycled the plot to L. Sprague de Camp's lovely Lest Darkness Fall, in which a 20th Century man goes back to 6th Century Rome to save it from the Byzantines.  And what Piper does well, he does quite well.  There are fine tactics, good war depictions, the bones of an interesting plot.

But only the bones.  I was expecting a novel; instead I got a short novella.  Everything suffers as a result.  Kalvan is welcomed all too eagerly and learns the local lingo (akin to Greek, it seems) in no time.  His romance with Skylla, a princess who dresses and is treated as a man, is perfunctory — to say nothing of the wasted opportunity to develop such an interesting character!

Plus, there's this weird assumption that Aryans are the catalyst of culture, even though the geography and environment of North America are wildly different from that of Europe — and Europe's technological preeminence was never assured (and largely based on developments in other parts of the world!)

So Gunpowder God skates to the edge of the Three Star barrier but progresses no further.  Strike One.

Gallagher's Glacier, by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond


by Kelly Freas

In the future, corporations have a stranglehold on the solar system's shipping lanes.  One crazy man hatches a plan to install a fusion drive into an ice asteroid and become the first independent trader.  But since the corporations have the monopoly on drive-making equipment, no one can join him in his independence…unless some plucky captain is willing to take his company ship and defect.

Wow.  As written, that sounds like a pretty good yarn!  But when the Richmond's tell it, they give you nothing more than the above paragraph and a lot of padding. 

Glacier barely hits Star Two, much less Three.  And that's Strike Two.

Sweet Dreams, Sweet Princes (Part 2 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Robert Swanson

Our third attempt comes with the second installment of Mack Reynold's latest serial.  When last we left Denny Land, erstwhile Professor of Etruscan Studies and now national gladiatorial champion, he was headed to Spain.  His top secret mission: to meet up with Auguste Bazaine, inventor of the anti-anti-missile technology that could destabilize the world, plunging it into atomic fire.  But though he does manage to find Bazaine at a cocktail party, Denny is sapped on the neck, and Bazaine is kidnapped.  The Sov-world, the West-world, and Common Europe all blame each other.

There is only one resolution: trial by combat.  All three regions will send a three-man team into a one-hectare arena.  Whomever comes out alive will be privy to the anti-anti-missile secrets…if Bazaine is ever found.

I find it ironic that the characters spend so much time lambasting the gladiatorial games, the reliance on bread and circuses of the world's idle masses. Yet this series of books is really just an excuse for some riproaring modern fight fiction.  Is this a subtle message?

Less subtle is the writing, which is competent, but not up to what Reynolds can deliver when he tries.  Bette Yardborough, "the girl" on Denny's spy team, gets the worst of it.  To wit, this immortal dialogue:

Bette said softly, "Between your accomplishments as a scholar, and a . . . a man of violence, I would assume you have had little time for women, Dennis Land."

Was she joshing him?  Denny shot a quick scowl at her.  He growled, "I'm no eunuch."

She laughed again, even as she turned away to go below.  "After seeing you dispatch those two trained Security lads, I'm sure you're not, Dennis."

Sweet Dreams is never going to break the Three Star Barrier with this kind of stuff, even if the fighting scenes and the world Reynolds' created are pretty interesting.  And I don't have high hopes for the conclusion next month, either.

Strike Three!  Oh wait.  The umpire has run onto the field and called FOUL BALL.  Apparently, we can't count an unfinished serial.  All right.  Onwards and…someway-wards.

Guttersnipe, by Rick Raphael


by John Schoenherr

Here's an oddly technical story involving sanitation and water workers… OF THE FUTURE!  Their tremendously complex operation is threatened when radioactivity is found seeping into the drinking supply of one of the cities.  After many loving descriptions of apparatus and mechanisms, the source is found and eliminated.

If anyone could have broken the Three Star Barrier, it'd be the fellow who brought us 400 mph cars in the Code Three series.  Sadly, the piece reads like a science article on water reclamation rather than an sf story.

Mind you, I like articles on water reclamation, but I don't buy Analog to read them.

And so, Rafael's piece falls short of the barrier, somewhere beyond the Star Two line. 

Strike Thr… Oh.  Another foul against the line.  Apparently science factish stories don't count either.  Fine.  One more piece to go.

Bill for Delivery, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

About a decade ago, Bob Sheckley wrote a great little story called Milk Run.  It's about the AAA Ace duo trying to form a livestock shipping company.  Each of the animals on board their one transport had its own foibles, and dealing with one species exacerbated things with the others. 

Chris Anvil's piece is much the same plot except less interesting and more saddening.

Another Star Two piece and (looks around for the umpire) STEEEERIIIIIIKE THREEEEE!

You're Out

In the end, I can't imagine Analog's dismal 2.2 star ranking really surprises anyone.  Still, it would have been nice for at least one of this month's mags to break the Three Star Barrier.  I tell you, it's times like these that I wonder about turning in my quill.

On the other hand, if I may mix my metaphors further, no single panning returns a nugget.  The quest for gold is a diligent process that accumulates the stuff grain by grain.  As bad as this month was in aggregate, it still gave us a decent number of good stories. 

And that's why we keep doing this.  Because without us, you'd be stuck slogging through all the dreck.  Now, you can enjoy the gold without dealing with the dross.

You're welcome.  I need a drink…


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[October 28, 1964] We Live In Hope (November/December 1964 New Worlds)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After last month’s surprise visit to Science Fantasy magazine, this month we’re back to the wild and wacky realms of New Worlds, to wit, the November/December 1964 issue.

What has happened since we last met? Well, the biggest change here, as the Traveller has already noticed this month, is that as of the 15th October we have a new British Government. My impression is that the governing Conservative Party were fairly confident about their chances of returning, and so it has been a bit of a shock to them to be ousted, having been in power for 13 years or so. It was close though – Labour won a majority by a mere four seats.

I did have a hunch that it would be the younger vote, eager for change, that would decide it – all of those I spoke to saw the Labour Party, led by Harold Wilson, as a means of better reflecting their concerns – and so it appears to be. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that Mister Wilson is the youngest Prime Minister we’ve had in over 150 years, at a mere 48 years old.

Me, I blame it on The Beatles.

Harold meeting the Fab Four in March 1964

 

Talking of music, there’s been some change at the top of the charts here. Herman’s Hermits was at the top of charts for two weeks with I’m Into Something Good, but was replaced by the mighty Roy Orbison, singing Oh Pretty Woman for three weeks. It’s a terrifically powerful song, which I much preferred myself.

However, Roy has now been replaced by Sandie Shaw singing (There’s) Always Something There to Remind Me. It’s quite pleasant and seems to be quite popular in part because Ms. Shaw sings her songs barefoot.

At the cinema Goldfinger is still there and doing very well. I’m not surprised. I expect its success to continue for a while yet.

Other than that, the cinematic pickings have been rather slim, although if you like Westerns, you are in for a treat. I’ve counted three at my local Odeon recently – John Ford's Cheyenne Autumn, starring Richard Widmark and one of my favourite actors, James Stewart, was good. There’s also been Invitation to a Gunfighter, with Yul Brynner, who seems to be trading on his popularity in The Magnificent Seven a few years back. Thirdly, more recently there’s been Rio Conchos, starring Richard Boone and Stuart Whitman.

My favourite movie this month has been Fail Safe, which Rose Benton has already reviewed this month – isn’t it good when movies are released here in Britain at nearly the same time as yourselves in the US? I nearly missed it, as the cinemas were full of Goldfinger at the time, but it was a great nail-biting drama.

If I am really unlucky, the next time I speak to you I may have been dragged, kicking and screaming, to see My Fair Lady, which the trailers are telling me is out in a couple of weeks. (I’m not a huge fan of musicals.) I managed to avoid Mary Poppins back in August, but as a result I fear I may have to see this one. Wish me luck.

The Issue At Hand

This month’s cover by Robert Tilley is striking, but to my mind not as well done as the last few month’s covers. We seem to have gone from covers with a triangle shape to covers with circles. I feel that it is a bit of a step-down, to be honest. It is simpler and more basic than last month’s, for example. Interestingly, this change of cover style seems to be deliberate – there’s a comment in this month’s Letters page that suggests so. Nevertheless, it is still better than the bad old days of the last John Carnell issues, so I shouldn’t complain.

The Editorial examines the idea of ‘bad SF’ on radio, television and cinema. It makes some valid points about how SF stories may become bestsellers in prose but then fail to make the most of this in other mediums. However, the Editorial seems to mainly be an excuse to bad-mouth the movie The First Men in the Moon for not sticking to HG Wells’ admittedly superior novel – “insulting the intelligence, sloppily written, poorly acted and directed.” I didn’t think it was that bad, myself, when I saw it back in August – but then it was either see that or Mary Poppins.

To the stories themselves.

The Shores of Death (part 2), by Michael Moorcock

Look how serious they are!

And we’re straight back into editor Mike Moorcock’s serial, an energetic yet dour story which attempts to bring Space Opera up to date in the 1960’s. After the set-up last time we rejoin Clovis Marca of the 30th century, trying to discover the deeper meaning of life on The Bleak Worlds of Antares before he is driven mad or the Solar System dies.

It’s OK but rather depressing. In the end, it’s all a bit Biblical, with Clovis dying then becoming immortal and eventually wandering off into a proverbial desert. Whilst I think I get what Moorcock is trying to do, I struggled to keep reading through the morass of unremitting bleakness. Nearly fifty pages is a long time to be in pain or be miserable. As a result, I’m not sure I’ll remember it long after finishing the magazine. Spending time at the dentist may be more fun – but as the Reader’s Poll later in the issue will suggest, some may like its tone. It’s a far cry from the optimistic SF of the 50’s. 3 out of 5.

Mix-Up, by George Collyn
A new author to me. Mix-Up is a lighter story, much-needed to relieve the despair that may descend after reading The Shores of Death. It’s a one-idea story though, about what happens when matter transmitters mix up the molecules of a young male scientist and an attractive young female film star. It’s quite entertaining, though the conclusion is rather poor and even rather perverse. What can we say when the two decide to marry each other – is it a recognition of a need for understanding between the sexes or does it reflect a secret wish that all we want to do is marry ourselves? Hmm. A fair debut, though. 3 out of 5.

Look… a new magazine! Sounds quite good.

Gamma Positive, by Ernest Hill
Ernest is a returning author, having last appeared in New Worlds in the Carnell era, in January 1964. How long ago that seems!

Really though, this is nothing new, and could be a leftover from the Carnell editorial-ship – another story of the consequences of experimenting with new drugs. In this case the treatment appears to allow time travel, a favourite theme of editor Moorcock, but to me the story is really a thinly disguised attempt to make the point that time seems longer when imbibing narcotics. Dare I say that time just seemed to become longer by reading this story because it seemed to take ages to go nowhere? We’ve been here before. Yawn. 3 out of 5.

Just in case you didn't get the Biblical message! Image by Harrison.

Some Will Be Saved, by Colin R. Fry
Another writer new to me. Unfortunately, this is another story that attempts to dress up Biblical allegory in a science-fictional setting – it seems to be a theme this month. This is a sardonic take on the Garden of Eden – in a modern post-apocalyptic setting. The Biblical references are rather unsubtle – further emphasised by the fact that the two main characters are named Adam and Eve, for example. Points are given for trying to be a little scandalous, being a contemporary rewriting of the story of the Garden of Eden, but sadly it is another tale that, having made the point that the future is bad and that there’s no place for religion in it, doesn’t seem to go anywhere. In the end, it just exudes a depressingly dark sense of irony. 3 out of 5.

The Patch, by Peter Woods
Peter Woods is, as I have said before, Barrington J. Bayley writing as someone else. This time, the novella is one of those that is Science Fantasy – spaceships and atomic missiles mixed up with Kingdoms and Princes set against a civil war and an impending planetary disaster with the arrival of The Patch. It’s perhaps the story I’ve most enjoyed this month, but reads like an inferior form of Jack Vance or Poul Anderson’s work. Some of that dialogue is astoundingly clunky, and this is another story with a dreadful ending. 3 out of 5.

Emissary, by John Hamilton

The emissary being condescending to children.

Another writer new to me. In a grim Northern industrial town a stranger is seen, patting children on the head at a local school (hence the picture above) and making notes on everything else. His origin and purpose are unknown, which creates concern, fear and mistrust in the town’s populace. The point of the story is to discover the stranger’s purpose – is he a force for good or evil? The story does well to create a sense of unease, but by the end it fritters away to nothing substantial.
3 out of 5.

When is a review not a review? When it's an advertisement (I think.)

 

Onto the Book Reviews by Moorcock’s alter-ego, James Colvin.

Notice those book titles… MJM? Could it be "Michael J Moorcock"? Hmm.

The article focuses mainly on publications by Dobson’s Books, one of the first publishers here in the UK to regularly publish SF, with varied results. Eric Frank Russell’s latest, With A Strange Device, is found to be slightly disappointing, but likeable for those ‘in the mood’.

Contrastingly, the reviewer found Robert A Heinlein’s collection The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag more enjoyable than he expected. It is a grudgingly positive review – I get the impression Colvin really didn’t want to like it, but did. Alan E. Nourse’s collection The Counterfeit Man is contrarily summarised as “bad literature but good SF”. Isaac Asimov’s The Martian Way is a collection from an author that the reviewer finds “frustratingly good… in that he is good – but you know he can be even better.”

Of the paperbacks, the publication of Second Foundation, Asimov’s final book in the Foundation Trilogy, is “guaranteed top SF”, Robert Manvell’s The Dreamers is a horror story “better than (Dennis) Wheatley”,  whereas Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged is summarised with the statement “Never has such terrible old rubbish appeared between the covers of a book“ and August Derleth’s collection From Other Worlds is “mediocre”.

Even when I don’t agree with his comments, I must admit that I find Moorcock/Colvin’s comments entertaining.

In terms of the Letters, there’s a letter suggesting that the magazine is becoming more literate – something the Editor will no doubt be pleased about – and the fact that the sense of wonder, once important to SF, seems to have departed at the same time. The change in the cover style, as mentioned earlier, is also discussed.

The verdict's in on the last issue…. even if I disagree!

As ever, the reader’s ratings of recent issues make interesting reading. Just to show you how out of touch I clearly am, readers rated the first part of the Moorcock serial top last issue. This suggests that this month’s conclusion may fare equally well, to my bemusement.

Summing up

This issue of New Worlds is OK, but I’m less enamoured than the previous issues of the new ownership. Considering the title of the Editorial, this one is actually a bit bleak and depressing. This issue seems to rely less on Moorcock’s usual team of friends and associates but actually seems worse for it.

Overall, my abiding impression is that this is all a bit so-so. This may be because the repeated themes – drugs, religion – are rather groan-worthy. Whilst we’re not as depressingly poor as the bad-old-days at the end of the Carnell editorialship, I was surprised that this issue was rather mundane, which is amusing considering that two of the stories involve religious themes that would suggest a higher order of things. Cheer up, Mike – things are not as bad as you think!

I should be back to a new issue of Science Fantasy next month. Until next time… have a great Halloween!


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[October 26, 1964] A revolting set of circumstances (October 1964 Galactoscope #2)


by Gideon Marcus

If there is one constant to the universe, it is change.  Appropriately, if there is one constant to government, it is that no system lasts forever.  Revolutions have occurred since the dawn of history, motivated by class resentment, public outrage, and plain avarice.  Some are cloaked in nobility, like the American Revolution; others started nobly but ended in darker places, like the French Revolution (whose darker points were recently spotlit on Doctor Who.) Even now, revolts roil the world — from The Congo to Vietnam, Iraq to Zanzibar, people are taking up arms to topple governments. 

It's not surprising, then, that the three books I read for this month's Galactoscope all deal with some kind of revolution.  Does the subject make for good science fiction?  Let's find out!

Star Watchman

Ben Bova is a fairly new phenomenon, his only previous book being The Star Conquerors, which I understand is in the same universe as Star Watchman.  He is probably better known to you as the fellow who writes non-fiction articles for Amazing.  So how's his fiction?

Turns out it's not bad at all.  Watchman is set on an agrarian planet of the Terran Empire known to the humans as Oran VI.  But to the natives (entirely human, curiously), it is the cherished world of Shinar.  Their revolt against the Terran authority has already happened by story's start, and the Shinarians have invited the rapacious, cat-like Komani to help throw off Earth's yoke.  But the Shinarians are about to find out that they have a tiger by the tail.  The Komani plan to subjugate Shinar, and to then rally the disparate cat-people dominions into an alliance that can attack the Terrans head on.

Enter Emile Vorgens, himself a non-Terran humaniform from another Imperial protectorate world.  A freshly minted Star Watchman (the Star Watch is essentially the galactic navy), he has the seemingly impossible task of defusing or defeating the revolution.  At his disposal is a powerful but small flotilla of hovercraft, ranging from "scouts" to "dreadnoughts".  It also turns out that there are Shinarians who are not happy with the current course and might be enlisted as allies.  But it will take all of Vorgens' diplomatic and tactical skills to effect a positive resolution to the crisis.

Per the author's own afterword, "We live today in a world peppered by revolutions, and in this tale I have tried to show some of the complex forces involved in revolution and how rebellion might lead, in the long run, to a growth of freedom and a better world."  Indeed, it is difficult not to look at the Shinarian case through the lens of current crises.  Given the Terran name for the planet, and the French name of the protagonist, my thoughts went to the Algerian movement for independence.  That one obviously did not work out as desired for the empire in question.  Ditto Indochina, whose destiny is still in doubt.

In fact, I struggle to find an example of a revolution that was peaceably ended, but which resulted in a more satisfactory internal situation for the province.  At least, not one that lasted any real length of time.  On the other hand, while the ending of Watchman is sort of a happy one, it is also left ambiguous as to Shinar's fate after the revolt. Bova's politics, while hopeful, are not entirely naive.

But how's the book?  One thing Bova does very well is portray battle and tactics.  His writing is clear, never lurid, and as a wargamer, I was always able to picture the tactics described.  And they seemed reasonable, too!  As for characterization, Emile is a bit like C. S. Forester's Hornblower, wet behind the ears, self-doubting, but game and quite talented.  I liked him, though I couldn't say he's very deep. 

There is, sadly, exactly one female character.  But Altai is a good one, essential to the Shinarian plans, and while there are some implied romantic chemistry between her and Emile, nothing is ever consumated.  I hate it when a woman is included in a story just to be a love interest (and a prize) for the hero. 

In fact, throughout the story, Altai makes it clear she knows that her contributions are less valued among the Shinarians for her being female.  I'd like to think that she will lead a revolt of her own on Shinar: for more respect and recognition of women's rights.  On the other hand, it's not like there are any female soldiers in either the Star Watch or the Terran Marines (which strained my credulity — hell, there was a woman Captain in the U.S. Marines just last week on Gomer Pyle).  So if there is to be a women's revolt on Shinar, it probably won't get much help from the humans.  Oh well.

Anyway, I enjoyed Watchman.  It's not literature for the ages, but it did keep me reading.  Call it three and a half stars.

Ace Double F-289

Demon World

I'm pretty sure I know the genesis for this book: someone approached prolific sf scribbler, Ken Bulmer, at a pub and said (gently weaving), "Hey!  What if there were a story where we were the rats, and aliens were the people?!"

Because that's the premise to Demon's World.  Humans live in warrens, surviving my making daring raids into the larders of the "Demons", beings some hundreds of feet high (square-cube law be damned!) Said Demons are uncannily conventional, with familiar-looking houses, furniture, and technology.  Of course, it takes us a while as readers to get the full view of the alien landscape since it's always viewed through the eyes of diminutive people.

That's the background.  The setting is somewhat interesting.  Humanity has no idea how it got to this world generations before — it only knows that, aside from cats and dogs, it seems to have no kinship to any of the strange creatures on the planet.  Civilization has stratified into hard castes, with the Controllers on top, the Soldiers (who wage wars against other warrens of people) next up, and the Foragers (who get food) along with the Laborers occupying the bottom rungs of society.  Only the Foragers ever encounter the Demons, who are widely believed to be a myth among the denizens of the warrens.

Our protagonist is an amnesiac named Stead, discovered by a squad of Foragers from the polity of Archon.  He is given a Controller's education and then dispatched into the same squad that found him.  This puts him in the unique position of understanding the ruling and under classes.  He also knows for certain that the Demons are real.  It is only a matter of time before Stead decides to lead a double rebellion: Foragers/Laborers against Controllers, and humans against Demons.

Demons World is an odd book, executed in a workmanlike fashion that suggests it was a quick draft (though without the egregious typographical errors that sometime mar Ace productions).  Descriptions of people and items are particularly bland, often repetitive.  We never even understand what it is the humans eat, their food invariably referred to as "food".  You'd think that in a story where half the scenes involve getting sustenance, there would be a bit more emphasis on the sensuous.

Women fare better in the Bulmer than the Bova.  The capable doctor, Della, is Stead's ward in Archon, and two members of the squad are women.  However, despite Bulmer's preference for unadorned writing, you can bet we always known how attractive the women are and in what ways.  Moreover, women in Demon World are still somewhat second-class citizens, treated like "girls" despite participating somewhat equally in society.

Unlike with Watchman, I found reading Demon's World something of a chore.  Two and a half stars for this one.

I Want the Stars

Ah, but flip F-289 over, and we're in an entirely different world.

Tom Purdom is quite new to the writing scene.  Over the past few years, he has been published in several of the sf mags, with stories ranging in quality from two to four stars.

Now, his first novel is out, and it's something of a revolution in and of itself.

Hundreds of years from now, after several near brushes with atomic extinction, humanity has reached the stars.  Not just the nearby stars but the entire galaxy is open to our hyperspace drives.  But we do not expand to conquer; Purdom subscribes to Arthur C. Clarke's notion that our species will never expand to space until we make peace with ourselves.  Consistent with that, all of the other starfaring races are also peaceful beings.  War is a concept confined to the planet-bound races. 

With the exception of the telepathic, xenophobic Horta.  On a planet 60,000 light years from Earth, they are in the last stages of subjugating the amphibian Sordini.  And there to witness, perhaps even stop the event, are five humans: three women and two men.  Raised in Terran tradition, they have never known want or strife.  Yet they are restless, impelled by some inner desire they cannot name. 

Combat with the Horta causes the death of the woman who planned the expedition.  The rest, scarred by her passing, and the rigors of combat with psionic aliens, numbly continue their tour of the galaxy.  They are looking for some key that will allow them to confront, perhaps defeat, the Horta before they pose a threat to the peace of the galaxy.

One possibility lies with a mysterious race called the Borg.  Aliens from another galaxy, they have made it their mission to enlighten the warlike races still lacking space travel.  They welcome representatives from any world to a sort of university planetoid, where they are given a decades-long course in history and philosophy whose end result is yet unknown to any of the students.

Our viewpoint humans enroll in the school, but long before their courses are complete, conflict breaks out on the planetoid.  This, of course, is inevitable — most of the student races are pre-starfaring, and many are jealous of the technologies the starfarers possess.  The arrival of the humans creates the catalyst for a bloody fight, a civil conflict that the Borg do nothing to stop.  The Terrans demand to know the Borg's true intentions: are they really cosmic benefactors, or are they sowing the seeds of galactic strife?  The answer, one way or another, promises to overturn the order of civilization.

What a fascinating book this is, by turns riproaring adventure, interesting philosophical rumination, and portrayal of an unique and plausible future for humanity.  Per the author's foreword,

"I like adventure stories when it's well done…but I think…that means above all it has to be believable.  For one thing, if the characters are future people, then they should be different from present day people.  And their social customs and politics should be different, too.  I can't believe in–which means I can't enjoy–space adventures in which the characters all seem to be people just like Twentieth Century Americans from a society just like Twentieth Century America…"

You will not find contemporary people in this story — the headstrong protagonist Jenorden, gentle Veneleo, haunted Theleo, resourceful Elinee, they are at once relatable yet different.  There is no distinction or inequality between men and women, and there is a strong suggestion of polyamory amongst the crew (or at least flexible relationships without jealousy).  Purdom lays out the motivations of his characters, and then lets the story flow from those precepts rather than conventional, modern-day ones.

It's not a perfect story.  Purdom is not as good at depicting battle as Bova.  The novel's parts don't tie together in a perfect through-line (although, to be fair, neither does life!) And the ending is a little abrupt — I understand it had to be cut from 50,000 to 40,000 words in the 11th hour. 

Still, I Want the Stars is a true science fiction novel, one of my favorites of the year.  What an accomplishment for the first time out!

Four stars.

Tallying the Score

Though the Bulmer is too minor and conventional a piece for recommendation, both Star Watchman and I Want the Stars show that science fiction affords a fresh look at old topics.  Indeed, per Purdom, "just by telling an exciting story, I think I've ended up saying more about nuclear weapons, love, death, the meaning of life, and what it is to be human, than if I had sat down and tried to write about all those things."

Sounds like the crashing of the British "new wave" on American shores.  Leave it to the youngsters to lead a revolution in our genre!


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[October 24, 1964] Nothing Lasts Forever (November 1964 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

This Too Shall Pass

There is an ancient fable of Persian origin, retold many times over the centuries, about a monarch who asked the wisest sages in the realm for a statement that could apply to all possible situations. The answer, of course, is the title of this piece.

It is impossible to deny the ephemeral nature of all Earthly things, even if we speculate that the universe may be eternal. (The truth of that is still a matter of scientific debate, as to whether the cosmos will expand forever, or eventually collapse into itself.)

Evidence for the temporary nature of politics, for example, came with the unexpected fall of Nikita Khrushchev from power in the Soviet Union, as discussed by our host in detail.


Americans were caught by surprise, it seems.

Obviously, the most common evidence for the fragility of humanity is the universality of death. To mention just one recent example, Herbert Hoover passed away this month, at a more advanced age than any other former President of the United States.


Let him be remembered for his extraordinary work providing supplies of food to millions of starving Europeans during and after World War One, rather than his failure to deal with the Great Depression.

In a less sober way, the 1964 Summer Olympics, the first to be held in Asia, came to an end as well, with a memorable closing ceremony in the Tokyo setting.


Why summer games in October? To avoid the heat and typhoon season.

Few things are as short-lived as popular music, as shown by the fact that two songs reached the Number One position on the American charts this month. First came Oh, Pretty Woman, a tribute to feminine beauty by singer and guitarist Roy Orbison.


I'm used to seeing him with dark glasses.

This was quickly replaced by the nonsensically titled Do Wah Diddy Diddy by the British group Manfred Mann.


Confusingly, the name of the band is the same as the name of the keyboard player.

In Search of Eternal Life

Fittingly, the two lead stories in the latest issue of Fantastic deal with futile attempts to escape the ravages of time.


Cover art by George Schelling

The Knocking in the Castle, by Henry Slesar


Interior illustrations also by Schelling

We begin with a chilling tale set in modern Italy. A widow attends a party, during which the host suggests an excursion to a nearby castle, said to be haunted. The woman reluctantly goes along, only to scream in fear when a knocking emerges from within the dungeon. A flashback reveals the reason for her horror at the sound.

In the United States, she married a man whose ancestors built the castle. Once a year he goes back to the family estate, where his sister lives year-round, rarely emerging from seclusion. We soon discover that the man is well over two hundred years old, despite his youthful appearance. He returns to the castle for an annual dose of the liquid which keeps the siblings from aging.


The magical elixir, a few drops of which drives back the Grim Reaper.

A violent quarrel breaks out between brother and sister when the man wishes to share the potion with his bride. Driven to extreme measures, the sister hides the key to the chamber holding the supply of liquid in a particularly macabre way.


Extreme measures, indeed.

What follows is a grim account of the man's desperate attempt to find the key before time runs out. It all leads up to the frightening conclusion, explaining the woman's terrified scream.

I found myself imagining this story as one of those Italian Gothic horror movies that make their way to the USA in badly dubbed and edited form. That's one reason I enjoyed it, to be honest. I pictured Barbara Steele, veteran of such films, in the role of the mysterious sister. I could see the gloomy interior of the castle in glorious black-and-white, and hear the spooky violin music on the soundtrack.

From a fan of Shock Theater and Famous Monsters of Filmland, a very subjective four stars.

Elixir for the Emperor, by John Brunner


Illustrated by Virgil Finlay

Our second account of a quest for eternal life also takes place in Italy, but goes back thousands of years to the days of the Roman Empire. A general and a senator plot against the life of a popular emperor. Their subtle plan involves offering a large reward for an effective elixir of immortality, convincing the emperor that it really works, thanks to the deceptive aid of the ruler's trusted slave, and substituting poison.

Complicating matters is an old man, saved from death in the arena by the emperor's mercy. In gratitude, he manages to create a genuine potion granting endless life, but is too late to prevent the emperor from being murdered. He hatches his own plot against those who slew his savior.

This is mostly a story of palace intrigue and vengeance, with just a touch of fantasy. The ancient setting is convincing, and there's a bit of philosophical musing at the end. It's very readable, if not particularly memorable, and not quite up to the author's usual high standard.

A middle-of-the-road three stars.

The Man Who Found Proteus, by Robert Rohrer

The gods of mythology, with some exceptions, enjoy the freedom from death sought by the protagonists of the first two stories. This comic romp features the god Proteus, famous for being able to change into any shape.

A grizzled prospector encounters the deity, first as a moving rock, then in the form of a talking mule, and later as a series of letters appearing on the ground, allowing the god to announce his desires in writing. His wants are simple enough; he's eternally hungry, ready to devour anything the prospector can provide. As you might imagine, things don't work out well for the old sourdough.

For the most part, this is a silly comedy, more notable for a certain amount of imagination than for belly laughs.

A slightly amused two stars.

Seed of Eloraspon (Part 2 of 2), by Manly Banister


Illustrations by Schelling again

The hero of this thud-and-blunder yarn may not be immortal, but it sure seems that way some times. As you may recall from last month, he set out to find the ancient city of the long-vanished, technologically advanced inhabitants of an alien world, accompanied by a warrior princess, an enemy turned friend, and a fellow Earthling. After many battles with the wicked Tharn, and a strange encounter with their mysterious rulers, the Bronze Men, they were about to be killed by huge flying monsters.

The author cheats as badly as any old movie serial, by setting up a cliffhanger from which there seems no escape, and then offering a disappointing way out. It seems that the hero, because he's got the advanced mental powers of what the story calls a magnanthropus, is able to communicate with the creatures. It seems that they're on his side, and want him to fulfill his quest. (There's a weird explanation that the flying beasts, along with other beings on this world, are the incarnation of emotions. That seemed really goofy to me.)


A typical battle. I like the use of the circle.

After getting out of that scrape without any effort, our quartet of adventurers fight the Tharn, get captured, escape, and so on. Eventually the hero discovers the secret of the Bronze Men, which will come as no surprise to anybody who has ever read any science fiction, and triumphs over all challenges. This pretty much just involves pulling a lever, which is pretty anticlimactic.


A defeated Bronze Man, although it sure looks more like a stone statue to me.

I got the feeling that the author really rushed through this half of the story. Things move at a breakneck pace, but without much purpose or meaning. The whole thing just sort of fizzles out at the end, leaving the reader exhausted and unsatisfied.

A disappointed one star.

Hell, by Robert Rohrer

(The Table of Contents credits the story to somebody named Howard Lyon. As best as I can figure out, this is a pseudonym meant to disguise the fact that the author has two pieces in the same issue. Rohrer and Lyon, get it? The Table of Contents also lists the author of The Man Who Found Proteus as Robert H. Rohrer instead of plain Robert Rohrer, so I guess there was some confusion around the editorial offices.)

A man finds himself, as the simple title implies, in the infernal regions. He passes some damned souls lying immobile on a beach under a cloudy sky, then takes a ride across the water with a demonic boatman assumed to be Charon. The fellow has no fear of eternal punishment, because he feels ready to face any psychological torment Hell might provide. As you expect, his attitude turns out to be badly mistaken. In a way, he faces the worst kind of immortality, if only in a spiritual sense.

The ending of this brief tale is not surprising. I never did figure out what the point of the motionless bodies on the beach was supposed to be. The story is decently written, but there's not much to it.

A confused two stars.

The Mermaid and the Archer, by Barry P. Miller


Illustration by Robert Adragna

The title characters in this romantic fantasy are two department store manikins, unable to move but conscious and able to communicate through a kind of telepathy. They were crafted by a master puppet-maker, whose affection for his creations gave them life. A violent storm threatens their physical existence, but a painter is able to preserve their love in his art.

This gentle, bittersweet fable suggests a kind of immortality in the works of gifted artists. Written in a introspective, poetic style, it is sure to touch the reader's emotions.

A sentimental four stars.

Daughter of the Clan, by Wilton G. Beggs

A teenage girl, who was adopted as an infant, experiences a gnawing, unsatisfied hunger. An attempted rape leads to the discovery of her true nature, and she meets others of her kind. A particular kind of immortality is implied.

Despite a certain moody intensity in the author's style, this is a simple, predictable tale, which ends just when it starts to get more interesting. Like the lead story, it attempts to produce old-fashioned chills, but not as effectively.

An unsatisfied two stars.

From Here to Eternity

Although none of the stories in this issue are likely to win undying fame, a couple of them should remain in the reader's memory for quite some time, if not forever. It makes me wonder how long copies of the magazine are likely to exist; if not in paper form, maybe on microfilm or some other medium. Whether anybody will be reading this issue in the distant future is an unanswerable question. Let's just be grateful we can enjoy the best of it here and now.


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[October 22, 1964] Introducing a "New Look" for Batman

[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!) ]



by Jason Sacks

I have some good news for those of you who haven’t been paying close attention to comic books: Batman comics are finally readable!

That’s a major change from the puerile adventures which editor Jack Schiff has been presenting in the pages of Batman and Detective Comics. For all too many years, Schiff and his team of seemingly subpar creators have delivered a never-ending stream of absurdly juvenile tales of the Caped Crusader and his steadfast sidekick. He gave us ridiculous and dumb tales in which Batman gallivanted in outer space, Robin was romantically pursued by the pre-teen Bat-Girl, and the absurdly awful Bat-Mite showed up at random times to add chaos to Batman's life. Even adventures which featured classic Batman villains (such as last fall’s Batman #159, “the Great Clayface-Joker Feud,”) fell far short of even the most basic standards of quality. Great they were not.

Though rather surreal, this page from "The Joker-Clayface feud" is ridiculously juvenile.

Those stories weren’t just bad. They were embarrassing to see on the newsstand next to better titles from National. Heck, most months even Archie’s idiotic Adventures of the Fly and The Jaguar were better than Schiff's schlock.

Apparently, National Comics agreed with my assessment. And though the ignominious run concluded with perhaps the worst Batman story of the 1960s so far (Detective Comics #326, “Captives of the Alien Zoo”), readers haunting newsstands in March 1964  discovered a brand new look for the Caped Crusader.

In fact, the cover of the very comic professed its newness.

The cover of Detective Comics #327 was a clear statement of freshness. In classy lettering focused behind beneath a slick new logo (logo and caption chosen deliberately, no doubt, to make a clear declaration that the past was prologue), the cover announced Introducing a “New Look” BATMAN and ROBIN in “Mystery of the Menacing Mask. Below those fateful words was a three-panel sequence which ends with Robin demanding, “Batman – your mask – quick! Take it off!” Below that triptych was yet another vignette professing to newness as readers are introduced to a new back-up strip starring popular Flash supporting character The Elongated Man.

Everything about this cover – from its logo to the new character introduced – screams that this is a new era in Batman comics.

In one bright, bold statement, readers were informed that Batman had left the alien zoo behind, hopefully forever.

And in fact, the connection to Flash was right on target: the new team included Flash editor Julius Schwartz, artist Carmine Infantino and (as revealed on the letters page) writer John Broome. It should be no surprise I love this new run since Flash is consistently my favorite title from National Comics. And though Broome and Infantino have only delivered three of the twelve "new look" stories thus far in both Detective and Batman, each subsequent issue has delivered a stepped-up level of thrills and excitement — as well as (as promised) a new look for Batman.

First and foremost, the artwork has improved. Infantino is perhaps the finest cartoonist working at National today, and every panel in his Batman and the new backup Elongated Man stories show why that is so. And though stories in Batman are still drawn under the "Bob Kane" pen-name, they seem to have taken a step up as the artists seem more inspired by their work.

Maybe the most obvious change illuminated by the artwork is with Batman's chest emblem. Where once the artists would lazily draw a bat on the hero's chest, now they draw it safely ensconced inside a yellow circle which seems to draw attention to the freshness of the new character.

Another major change is perhaps the most shocking. Just one month after the New Look debut, the April-released issue of Detective revealed the death of Batman and Robin's long-time butler Alfred! Yes, Alfred, the faithful friend and companion whose whole life seemed devoted to helping his Master Bruce and Master Dick, was brutally slain when saving the lives of our heroes at the hands of the Tri-State Gang. And what's more, there's no sign thus far that the faithful servant will return. He will remain an outsider to this major change.

Alfred is dead — and it seems he will stay dead.

Bruce Wayne created a charity called the Alfred Foundation to memorialize his friend; hopefully that Foundation will also act as a springboard for new storylines as this run proceeds. In place of Alfred, Bruce's Aunt Harriet has moved into stately Wayne Manor to take care of the boys. We will see if she starts to take on a Lois Lane approach to her charges and begins to suspect their second lives.

Maybe a fateful phone call will kick off that suspicion. The Gotham City Police installed a hotline at Wayne Manor, another change which will bring our hero closer to the action. If a hotline works for Presidents Johnson and Khrushchev, it should work for Commissioner Gordon and Batman.

As Batman becomes more connected to Gotham City, he also becomes more connected to his roots as a detective rather than space explorer or battler of corny villains. July's Detective featured a tale called "Mystery of the Mixed-Up Men," pairing Elongated Man with Batman and Robin for a delightful tale of changed faces, confused identity and strange jewel thieves. Similarly, September's Batman #167 is a tale seemingly inspired by James Bond involving Interpol agents, a world-spanning plot, and a core mystery which kept me guessing as to its resolution.

With all these changes, it should be no surprise my fellow fans are over the moon. I just received a fanzine by someone with the improbable name Biljo White called Batmania which enthusiastically endorses the new editorial direction Mr. Schwartz has introduced. Look below for the thrilling cover to his first issue.

Biljo White's Batmania celebrates the New Look Batman!

As well, according to the letters pages (another long-overdue change Schwartz introduced to these comics) fan response has been over the moon on these changes.

As for me, I am also ecstatic about these changes. Finally National has turned around their most moribund character and given him new life. It's as if the New York Mets somehow won the World Series by the end of the decade!


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[October 20, 1964] The Struggle (November 1964 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

[Have you gotten your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963)? It's got some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age, many of the stories first appearing in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction!)



by Gideon Marcus

The Good Fight

1964 has been a year of struggle.  The struggle to integrate our nation, the struggle against disorder in the cities, titanic power struggles in the U.S., the U.K. and now the U.S.S.R.  The struggle to hold on to South Vietnam, to preserve Congo as a whole nation.  The struggle of folk, rock, Motown, country, and surf against the inexorable British invasion.

So it's no wonder that this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction makes struggle the central component of so many of its stories.  This magazine is wont to have "All Star Issues" — this one is an "All Theme Issue":


by Ed Emshwiller

The Issues at Hand

Greenplace, by Tom Purdom

Purdom, who just wrote the excellent I want the Stars (review coming in the next Galactoscope), depicts a 21st Century in which immortality has created a stranglehold on politics.  Canny machine bosses can hold on to power indefinitely.  Nicholson is a man who would break this power, loading himself up on psychically enhancing drugs and personally investigating "Greenplace", a stronghold neighborhood of the 8th Congressional District.  There, he encounters resistance, violence, and a secret…

Remarkable for its melange of interesting ideas and surreal execution, it's a little too consciously weird for true effectiveness.  Three stars.

After Everything, What? by Dick Moore

Two thousand years ago, genetic supermen ruled the galaxy.  They weren't dictators; rather, they were created by humans to be the best that humanity could be (that's what the story says — I'm not endorsing eugenics).  After a century of dominance, they all died out.

It's a well-written piece, but the conclusion is obvious from the beginning: the ubermenschen struggled against boredom…and lost.

Three stars.

Treat, by Walter H. Kerr

It used to be that, on Halloween, people would wear scary masks so that when they encountered bonafide spooks on their day of free reign, they would be mistaken for compatriots.  Nowadays, the shoe is on the other foot — spooks can only freely walk the Earth on Oct. 31 since everyone mistakes their frightening faces for masks.

Cute?  Three stars.

Breakthrough, by Jack Sharkey

Here, the struggle is Man vs. Machine.  A chess-playing computer betrays its sentience by developing a sense of humor.  So its creator, tormented with feelings of inferiority, shoots the machine dead.

Sharkey can be good.  More often he can be bad.  Here, Sharkey is about as bad as he ever gets.

One star.

Dark Conception, by Louis J. A. Adams

When the Savior comes again, will it be in the form of another virgin birth?  And what happens when the new Mary happens to be Black?

This is the first piece of the issue that has some of the old F&SF power, but the ending doesn't pack a lot of punch since the conclusion is telegraphed, and the author doesn't do much with it.

Three stars for this missed opportunity of a tale.

One Man's Dream, by Sydney Van Scyoc

Against age, all mortals struggle in vain.  A Mr. Rybik has himself "tanked" in life-sustaining fluids in the hopes of purchasing a few more years.  But not for himself — he wants to preserve the other personality who lives in his head, the pulp adventurer called Anderson.  This Anderson is more real to him than even his wife or his kids, entertaining, sustaining, allowing Rybik to enjoy a life of vicarious excitement.

But when Rybik's money runs out, he finds that no one in the real world wants to pony up dough to save a crazy dreamer who neglected his family.  Can Anderson save him now?

Well crafted, it engages while it lasts, and then sort of fades away.  Like Anderson.

Three stars.

The New Encyclopaedist – III, by Stephen Becker

Another of these faux articles written for an encyclopaedia, copyright 2100 A.D.  This one details a latter day crusade against immorality by a McCarthy parody.  Mostly a bore, though there is one genuinely funny line.

Two stars.

Where Do You Live, Queen Esther? by Avram Davidson

Esther is a Creole house-servant.  Her struggle is with her employer, Eleanor Raidy, who treats her poorly.  In typically overwritten fashion, the author details Esther's revenge.  Only Avram can make seven pages feel like 20.

I understand Davidson is quitting the editorship of F&SF to devote more time to his writing.  If this is the kind of stuff we can look forward to, he might consider an altogether different career.  And it's a reprint, no less!

Two stars.

The Black of Night, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A's article for the month details the struggle to answer Olbers' paradox: if the universe be infinite, and stars evenly distributed, why isn't the night sky as bright as the day's?

As one might guess, the issue is with the postulates.  Neither are correct, as we now know.  Asimov does his usual fine job explaining things for the layman.

Four stars.

On the House, by R. C. FitzPatrick

In the earlier story, Dark Conception, the husband of the pregnant Mary confronts Mary's doctor.  Both husband and doctor are Black, but the husband considers the doctor a "Tom" and won't be satisfied with mere equality:

"I don' want what you want, man.  I want what they got and for them to be like me now.  I want to lead me a lynch mob and hang someone who looks at one of our girls.  I want to rend me some of my land to one of them and let them get one payment behind.  I want them to try to send they kids to our school.  I want 'em to give me back myself like I was before, when I didn't hurt so bad that I better off dead."

Fitzpatrick's On the House is a deal with the Devil story, but the protagonist is a Black woman, and all she wants is to change places with "one of them". 

It's another piece that would do a lot better with development beyond the punchline, but I at least appreciate the variation on the theme.

Three stars.

Portrait of the Artist, by Harry Harrison

If there is going to be one struggle that defines the modern age, it's the struggle to reconcile automation with personal dignity.  Harrison, in this piece, shows the mental devastation that happens when even such an imagination-laden field as comic artistry can be done by a machine. 

It was pretty good up to the end where (if you'll pardon the unintentional pun, given how the story ends), Harrison fails to stick the landing.

Three stars.

Hag, by Russell F. Letson, Jr.

Is a witch's pox effective against modern vaccination?

Another pleasant (if forgettable) prose poem.

Three stars.

Oversight, by Richard Olin

Wacky doctor wins his struggle against aging by infusing his cells with planaria (flatworm) DNA.  It has unintended consequences.

Another story with an obvious ending — and this one doesn't make biological sense. 

Olin's last (and first) story was better.  Two stars.

The Third Coordinate, by Adam Smith

We end with the struggle to reach the stars.  The concept is novel: humanity has invented a teleporter, but while direction can be controlled, distance cannot.  What its operators need is three known destinations, coordinates that can be used to calibrate the device so that accurate ranging can be done.

Great idea.  Very poor execution.  Nothing happens for the first 20 pages but some of the clunkiest exposition and character development I've read in a while.  And there's no tension in the end, either.  Pilot succeeds, end of story.

Two stars, and a hope that the theme gets picked up by someone with more chops.

Summing Up

As it turns out, the biggest struggle this month was finishing the damned magazine.  Conflict is vital to any story, but it's only one component.  Execution and development matter, too.  Even Davidson's story intros have lapsed into badness.  I'm looking forward to the editor's departure from F&SF; any change has to be an improvement, right?


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[October 18, 1964] Out in Space and Down to Earth (October's Galactoscope #1)

There were quite a lot of books to catch up on this month, but two of them stood out for their quality.  As a result, they're going to get full-length treatments, and the other books we read will be dealt with later.  So please enjoy these exciting offerings, reviewed by two of the Journey's finest writers…


by Victoria Silverwolf

No Man on Earth, by Walter Moudy


Cover art by Richard Powers

Mister Moudy, Mysterious Missourian

Here's a writer who is completely new to me. In fact, after doing a little research, I believe that he is new to all readers. As far as I can tell, this is his first published work of fiction.

Beyond that interesting fact, I have been able to discover very little about the author. He comes from the Show Me state; he's an attorney; and his middle name is Frank. The book is dedicated to his wife, Marguerite.

In a way, it's a good thing to approach a novel without any preconceptions about the person who wrote it. We predict that certain elements will appear in a work by Heinlein or Bradbury. I have no idea what to expect from Walter Frank Moudy, so I hope I can provide an objective look at this fledgling effort.

Child of Violence

If you were to tear off the covers of this book — not that I suggest actually doing such a horrible thing — and hand it to me without the blurbs that appear on front and back, it would take me quite a while to figure out that it's a science fiction novel. The first few chapters make it seem like a backwoods fantasy, something like a darker version of the stories of the wandering balladeer John, which have appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for some time now. (They can also be found in the collection Who Fears the Devil?, published last year by Arkham House, if you can find a copy of this limited edition, and are willing to shell out four bucks.)


Cover art by Lee Brown Coye

The novel begins with a young woman about to give birth. Her painful memories tell us that she was raped by a man she thinks is a witch. Everything about the setting, and the woman's dialect, suggests that this takes place in a primitive settlement in the mountains. (At first I thought it was Appalachia, but later details make it clear that we're in the Ozarks.)

The villagers wait for the child to be born, intending to kill it as a unnatural monster. The woman's brother, and the local midwife, who has secrets of her own, manage to save the baby's life. The newborn boy seems to be perfectly normal, but he learns to speak by the age of six months, and grows into a super-intelligent preteen with strange powers. Both loved and hated by his mother, he runs away from home after she makes a feeble, tearful attempt to end his life.

Escape From the Reservation

We get our first hint that the novel is set in the future when we find out that the First World War took place a century and a half ago. What makes this even stranger is the fact that the mother believes it was the last war that ever took place. At this point, I wondered if the villagers were so isolated they knew nothing about recent history. That didn't make sense, because there's a school nearby with plenty of books. Was this some kind of alternate time line? The truth turned out to be quite different.

In fact, the villagers live in a reservation, separate from the rest of the USA in the late 21st Century, and are deliberately kept ignorant about the modern world around them. The midwife is actually an observer, studying their culture. The boy is the only resident ever to make his way out of the reservation, thanks to his superhuman intelligence. He manages to survive, and even thrive, in this strange new world, eventually becoming enormously wealthy, due to his ability to create highly advanced inventions.

Searching the Galaxy for a Father

The young man uses all his acquired money and power to build the world's first faster-than-light spaceship. This technology threatens to upset the balance of power, which could lead to Armageddon. (In this future world, there was a limited atomic war. After this disaster, both sides of the Cold War worked together to make sure that neither gained any advantage over the other. The FTL drive could destroy this uneasy peace.)

The protagonist wants to explore the cosmos, determined to find the humanoid alien who impregnated his mother. In order to ensure that he does not return the spaceship to Earth and reveal its secrets to either power, he is accompanied by a female Russian cosmonaut and a male American astronaut, each keeping watch over the other. Acting on the orders of the President of the United States, a Federal law official is also along for the ride. His mission is to ensure that the spaceship does not return at all, even if it means killing the young man, of whom he has grown very fond.

What follows is a series of encounters with several different alien species, mostly very similar to human beings. After many adventures, the main character eventually tracks down his father, leading to the dramatic conclusion.

A Very Mixed Bag

This is an unusual science fiction novel, not quite like anything else I've ever read. In addition to reminding me of Wellman, as I've mentioned, it also brought to mind traces of Philip K. Dick, A. E. van Vogt, and Theodore Sturgeon. That's a quartet of very different writers, and I'm probably greatly misleading you by mentioning their names.

The book consists of many highly varied sections, told from several points of view. One particularly interesting chapter consists of multiple first person narratives, relating how different alien societies, from primitive to advanced, react to the human visitors.

Despite its frequent changes of mood, the author manages to make the novel into a coherent whole. (One chapter, late in the book, can only be described as a bedroom farce. Even this lighthearted interlude turns out to be relevant to later events.)

The complex plot always kept my interest. The characters, for the most part, are fully developed and win the reader's empathy. (The fate of one character, whom I have not even mentioned, comes as a real shock, about halfway through the book.)

The story has a fair amount of sexual content, particularly for a paperback science fiction novel. This, by itself, shouldn't bother mature readers, but one scene repelled me. Without giving anything away, let's just say that it reminded me of the late Ian Fleming's James Bond novel The Spy Who Loved Me, which contains this statement from the female narrator.

All women love semi-rape. They love to be taken. It was his sweet brutality against my bruised body that made his act of love so piercingly wonderful.


Cover art by Richard Chopping, for what is generally considered to be the worst Bond novel

Like this quote, the scene in question made my skin crawl, particularly after the author effectively conveyed the young woman's horror of being raped at the very start of the story. Readers are also likely to find the end of the novel disturbing, in a similar way.

Despite my serious concerns about the book's treatment of sexual violence, overall I thought it was a good novel, particularly for a first effort.

Four stars.



by Cora Buhlert

Davy by Edgar Pangborn

Edgar Pangborn

Edgar Pangborn has been writing science fiction under his own name for thirteen years at this point and was apparently writing under other names before that. However, none of his stories have been translated into German and the availability of English language science fiction magazines is spotty at best. Therefore, I had never encountered Pangborn's work before, when I came across his latest novel Davy in my local import bookstore.

Davy by Edgar Pangborn

Davy does not look like a typical science fiction novel. It's a hardback, for starters, with a plain cover enlivened only by a drawing of a man's hand holding a French horn. However, the cover is completely appropriate, because Davy is not your typical science fiction novel. Besides, a French horn plays an important part in the story.

Davy is set approximately three hundred years after a nuclear war, followed by various natural disasters, wiped out most of North America and threw what remained back into the dark ages. The North Eastern US has been reduced to small fiefdoms and walled towns besieged by mutated beasts that roam the wilderness. The Holy Murcan Church rules over all, hoarding forbidden knowledge from the "Old Time" and keeping the population in ignorance. Though the reader will have to infer this for themselves, because Davy takes the form of a memoir written by the titular character, with occasional footnotes and asides from Davy's wife Nickie and good friend Dion.

Coming of Age in the Post-Apocalypse

In a rambling and roundabout way, Davy tells us that he was born in brothel, which is why he has no last name, raised in an orphanage and eventually sold as a bond servant to an innkeeper. Though he has little formal education, Davy is intelligent. By his early teens, he begins to question church doctrine, though he wisely keeps his doubts to himself, as heretics are mercilessly executed. Davy dreams of running away and eventually does, after the stealing the French horn seen on the cover from a "mue" – a mutant Davy had befriended in defiance of church doctrine – accidentally killing a city guard and losing his virginity to Emmia, the innkeeper's daughter.

We get a blow by blow account of the latter event. As a matter of fact, Davy talks quite a lot about his sexual adventures, which frequently involve wrestling his partners into submission. Davy certainly gives a lot more room to sexual matters than is common even in the fairly liberal science fiction genre. Readers who are uncomfortable with such scenes may want to skip this novel.

After his escape, Davy falls in with a group of deserters from one of the many skirmishes between the various fiefdoms, finds his father and eventually joins a troupe of travelling entertainers named Rumley's Ramblers, where his self-taught horn playing skills come in handy. After his father's death, Davy sets out on his own and meets Nickie, the love of his life, who is not just an aristocratic lady posing as a man, but also puts him touch with a secret underground society of heretics who try to preserve "Old Time" knowledge. Via Nickie, Davy meets her cousin Dion, monarch of the nation of Nuin (which roughly corresponds to modern day Massachusetts). Both Nickie and Dion and much of the Nuin aristocracy are casually described as black, while Davy himself is white and redhaired, racial prejudice having thankfully died out along with the pre-apocalyptic world.

Together, Dion, Nickie and Davy try to introduce reforms and break the stranglehold of the church. They lose and are driven out of the country. A ship takes them and a few followers to the Azores, where they settle down and build a utopian colony. The memoir is written during Davy's time aboard the ship. The novel ends with Davy planning to sail to Europe, after Nicky has died in childbirth, giving birth to a mutated baby that did not survive either.

A Unique Narrator

Davy's greatest strength is also its greatest weakness, for it is Davy's first person narration with all its charming idiosyncrasies that makes what could have been a standard post-apocalyptic yarn come to life. However, Davy is also given to digressions and if he decides to interrupt the ongoing story to talk about a storm at sea, the difficulties of making reading glasses without "Old Time" tools or to give us an overview of the various fiefdoms of his home region and their major cities, all of which bear the corrupted names of cities in the North Eastern US (which is probably more interesting to someone actually from the region, whereas I found myself constantly referring to a Rand McNally road atlas, trying to figure out what the names might stand for), the reader has no choice but to follow along. Many of Davy's digressions are fascinating, others are just dull. Furthermore, Davy also tends to skip over parts of his life – for example, he mentions taking part in a war to expel pirates from Cape Cod, but we never see this undoubtedly exciting episode.

Not Your Typical Science Fiction Novel

The Long Tomorrow by Leigh BrackettThe Chrysalids by John Wyndham

In the past fifteen years, nuclear war and its aftermath have become both a timely and popular subject for science fiction, resulting in such varied works as A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, The Long Tomorrow by Leigh Brackett, "That Only a Mother" by Judith Merril, On the Beach by Nevil Shute, Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank or The Chrysalids by John Wyndham. Davy shares some DNA with these works and borrows the post-apocalyptic theocracy trying to suppress knowledge from The Long Tomorrow and The Chrysalids and the state-sanctioned murder of mutants from "That Only a Mother" and again, The Chrysalids, while the tale of a young man from humble origins making his way in the world is reminiscent of the various juveniles of Robert A. Heinlein and Andre Norton. But in spite of superficial similarities with other works, Davy is its own thing, a science fiction novel that doesn't feel very science fictional.

Tom Jones movie posterThe Sot-Weed Factor by John Barth

At heart, Davy is a Bildungsroman, reminiscent of such 18th century novels as The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne and The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding as well as last year's successful film adaptation thereof. If we are looking for a modern day literary comparison, Davy is far closer to John Barth's 1960 novel The Sot-Feed Factor (and indeed Pangborn tuckerises Barth as an author of forbidden texts from the "Old Time") than to anything found in the pages of Analog, even if parts of Davy appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction in February and March 1962.

A highly enjoyable picaresque adventure in a post-apocalyptic New England.

Four and a half stars.


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[Oct. 16, 1964] Three in One (The next leg of the Space Race)


by Gideon Marcus

A whole new ballgame

It's not often that news of the next stage in the Space Race is eclipsed by an even bigger story.  Yet that's exactly what happened this tumultuous week, a handful of days so crazy that we halted publication ("STOP THE PRESSES!") to keep up with events.

It all started with "Kosmos 47", launched just after midnight (San Diego time) on October 6.  While the Soviets were typically close-lipped about its purpose, from its orbital path, it was suspected that the 24 hour flight was actually an uncrewed test of a new type of Soviet spacecraft.

Sure enough, just six days later, Voskhod ("Sunrise") #1 took off.  On board were three cosmonauts: Commander Vladimir Mikahilovich Komarov, civilian scientist Konstantin Petrovich Feoktistov, and civilian physician Boris Borisovich Yegorov.

This is huge news — both the American Mercury and Soviet Vostok space programs ended more than a year ago.  Those spacecraft only fit one person.  Since then, the United States has been hard at work on both its three-person Apollo lunar craft and its intermediate two-seat Gemini ship.  Although Gemini has already flown once, the first crewed flight won't happen until early next year.

And here are the Soviets, already throwing up a three person spaceship!  Could they be closer to a Moon mission than we thought?

On their eighth orbit, Voskhod's cosmonauts passed over the United States and radioed, "From aboard the spaceship, Voskhod, we convey our best wishes to the industrious American people.  We wish the people of the United States peace and happiness."

Interestingly, a second radio exchange was heard afterwards, during orbit sixteen: the three cosmonauts requested permission to extend the mission beyond 24 hours.  The request was denied, and the flight ended just one day after it had begun.

Why is this strange?  Well, one of the stated goals of the mission was "Extended medio-biological investigations in conditions of a long flight."  And while 24 hours is a long flight by American standards (that of Gordo Cooper in Faith 7 was about a day and a half), the Soviets have been flying day-long and longer missions since Gherman Titov's flight in 1961.  Did something go wrong with the spaceship? 

It turns out the problem was on the ground.  Even as the three cosmonauts were making history in space, the Presidium was holding a vote of no confidence, citing Khruschev's age and health as reasons for his dismissal.  Leonid Brezhnev was elevated to Secretary of the Communist Party and Andrei Kosygin was named Premier.  When the space travelers landed, they were whisked to Moscow where they must have been quite surprised to meet the new leadership!

Still, regardless of who is wearing the crown behind the Iron Curtain, there is no question that Voskhod was a tremendous accomplishment.  The question now is: What will they follow it up with?

Beep Beep, says America

Though perhaps not as impressive to some, the United States maintains the lead in automated space science.  Just this month, we launched the two latest Explorer satellites, 21 and 22.  And while those numbers seem a lot lower than what the Soviet "Kosmos" series has gotten up to, we have to remember that Kosmos conceals a wide variety of satellites, most of which have never resulted in a scientific paper.  They have probably snapped a great many photos of Midwest missile bases, though.

In contrast, the Explorer program is just one of many devoted to returning scientific data from the heavens.  Explorer 21, launched on October 4 (seven years after Sputnik) is the second of its type.  Also known as Interplanetary Monitoring Platform (IMP) B, its job is the same as that of Explorer 18, launched in last year — to measure the magnetic fields, cosmic rays, solar wind, and charged particles far from the Earth.  This helps us understand the physics of the solar system, and it lets us map the electromagnetic "terrain" of the space between Earth and the Moon.  The IMPs are blazing a trail for Apollo, making sure it's safe for people out there.

Unfortunately, the third stage on IMP-B's Thor Delta launch booster fizzled, and instead of soaring 160,000 miles from the Earth, Explorer 21 barely gets to 60,000.  This is within the hellish Van Allen radiation belts, so even though Explorer 21's nine instruments are performing perfectly, the data being returned tells nothing about the universe beyond Earth's magnetic system.

However, Explorer 22, launched October 10, is doing just fine.  It's the last of NASA's first phase of ionospheric explorers, measuring the electron density in the upper atmosphere.  Before your eyes glaze, that just means it sees how electrically charged the air is in the layer that reflects radio waves.  Such experiments help us better understand how the Sun affects our broadcasts — and allows us to make plans for unusual space weather events. 

The satellite, also known as Beacon Satellite B ("A" failed to orbit on March 29) is also the first of NASA's geodetic satellites, measuring the shape of the Earth with tremendous precision.  What's neat about Explorer 22 is that the spacecraft is actually quite unsophisticated, just three radio beacons and a laser reflector.  More noteworthy are the 80 tracking stations run by 50 scientific groups in 32 countries.  These provide a worldwide web, collecting navigational data on an unprecedented scale.

And since it's a civilian probe, we'll probably even share the information with the Communists.  You tell me who's winning the Space Race…


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