TV

[October 26, 1963] [Return to Form] (Twilight Zone, Season 5, Episodes 1-4)

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by Natalie Devitt

In case you have been living under a rock or moved on to newer programs, like The Outer Limits, The Twilight Zone returned to television for a fifth season. The series has also returned to a half-hour format and is once again airing on Friday nights. Back in May, I wrote that I hoped the program would be renewed for at least another season, because I just could not bear the thought of a once great series ending its run with an episode like The Bard. Well, it seems as if the television gods must have been listening because my wish has come true. If you have not been tuning in consistently for the past month, here is what you may have missed:

In Praise of Pip, by Rod Serling

In In Praise of Pip stars The Twilight Zone regular Jack Klugman. Klugman plays Max, a bookie who learns that his son, Pip, a soldier in Vietnam, has been wounded and may pass away soon. Shortly after hearing the news, Max is involved in a business deal gone terribly wrong, which results in Max being wounded himself. Max decides not to seek medical attention. Instead, thinking only of Pip and regretting that he did not spend as much time with his son as he would have liked, Max wanders down a street at night. He stops in front of an amusement park and is overcome by memories of his son. Just then, Max spots a boy who looks eerily similar to a young Pip.

There is no shortage of episodes of The Twilight Zone where a character is able to relive and/or change past events. One thing that In Praise of Pip has going for it is that is better written than a number of recent episodes with a similar plot, like The Incredible World of Horace Ford, which you may recall from last season. Jack Klugman delivers a strong performance as Max, as does another The Twilight Zone regular, Billy Mumy. Mumy may be a young boy, but anyone who has watched The Twilight Zone will probably remember him from stories like It’s a Good Life and Long Distance Call. In Praise of Pip includes strong cinematography and an a conclusion that is enjoyable, but the finale is perhaps a little too reminiscent of the film Lady from Shanghai. Overall, the episode earns a solid three stars.

Steel, by Richard Matheson

Steel takes place in the not too distant future. More specifically, the year 1974. Boxing has been deemed too dangerous of a sport for human participation, so the sport is now played using androids. Lee Marvin plays Steel Kelly, coach to one of said robots. Sadly, the android Kelly coaches is outdated and in desperate need of repair. In an effort to earn the money necessary to repair his robot, Kelly hatches a plan to beat the latest model of boxing robots.

In Steel, Marvin is Kelly, a coach with nothing to lose. I am used to seeing Marvin playing a tough guy, but I am not used to him seeing him play a character who is this desperate underneath the tough exterior. Gone is the actor who I know for playing a man who poured hot coffee on Gloria Grahame in The Big Heat. Marvin is replaced with a character who has plenty of experience inside the boxing ring, but with laws changing and advances in technology, has really been left behind in the dust.

While Marvin may have disappeared into his role as Kelly, the special effects makeup used this time around did not always disappear onto the faces of the actors as much as I would have liked. Nevertheless, this week’s episode was a pretty good entry in this anthology, which is why I give it three stars.

Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, by Richard Matheson

William Shatner, an actor you have probably seen on other fine programs such as One Step Beyond, Thriller and Alfred Hitchcock Presents (not to mention The Twilight Zone!), plays Robert Wilson, a man who is recovering from a nervous breakdown. Wilson seems to be making improvements in his mental health, until he and his wife board plane. During the flight, Wilson catches a glimpse of a strange creature on one of the wings of the plane. It is referred to as a gremlin, and it may be trying to cause a plane crash. The only problem is that Wilson seems to be the only person aboard the plane who can see it.

Nightmare at 20,000 Feet does an excellent job of creating an atmosphere of claustrophobia and the feeling of powerlessness that Wilson clearly feels during the flight. The tension builds each and every time, he peeks out his window. My only complaint is that the gremlin kind of looks like a man in a sheep costume, but costumes aside, this is by far the strongest story I have seen on The Twilight Zone this season. This one earns four stars from me.

A Kind of a Stopwatch, by Rod Serling

Richard Erdman plays the role of Patrick McNulty, a man who after being fired from his job decides to drown his sorrows in some booze at his local watering hole. While there, he meets a drunk, who gives him a stopwatch. But the stopwatch that Erdman receives is not an ordinary stopwatch: it has the power to stop time. Erdman, not surprisingly, decides to use the watch for his own personal gain.

A Kind of a Stopwatch is another example of how The Twilight Zone fails pretty miserably when it comes to comedy because nothing about is particularly funny. It does not help that the episode has pretty predictable story. A story that even as short as it is, still seems to drag. A Kind of a Stopwatch is easily the weakest entry in this program all month. For those reasons, I give it two stars.

I was not sure what to expect from The Twilight Zone this time around. Luckily, the series made the most of its return to television after its break between seasons. I just hope The Twilight Zone can keep the momentum going through the season.



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Magazine

[October 24, 1963] Sounds Familiar (November 1963 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

This month it seemed as if many news items evinced memories of previous happenings.  Often these occurred on the anniversaries of earlier events, creating a sense of familiarity.

Nigeria, granted independence from the United Kingdom on October 1, 1960, became a republic on the same date three years later.  Governor-General Nnamdi Azikiwe assumed office as President.  It seems likely that political and culture tensions among various ethnic groups will prove a challenge for the young nation.

Similarly, Uganda was declared a republic on the first anniversary of its independence from the UK on October 9.  Edward Mutesa II, formerly the Kabaka (monarch) of the nation, became its first President.

A much longer anniversary was observed in Chatham, Ontario, Canada.  One hundred and fifty years to the day after his death in battle, a monument to the Shawnee chief Tecumseh was erected on October 5.  Tecumseh was killed during the Battle of the Thames, a decisive American victory over the British and their Indian allies, including Tecumseh's confederation of several tribes, during the War of 1812.

Here in the USA, radio listeners became familiar with Sugar Shack by Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs.  This upbeat account of romance at a beatnik coffeehouse currently holds the Number One position, and shows no sign of leaving the charts.

It's not surprising, then, that the stories in the latest issue of Fantastic deal with themes that fans of imaginative fiction will find familiar.\\

The After Time, by Jack Sharkey

This fits into the popular category of After the Bomb fiction.  Seven people survive an atomic attack on their city.  In addition to hunting for food and shelter, they face a bizarre menace: weird points of light emerge from the site of the bombing and consume everything living in their path.

The first part of this tale is realistic and convincing.  It becomes much less believable when the lights show up.  The explanation for them involves some very bad science.  The story has a twist ending, but then continues for a few anticlimactic pages.  Two stars.

I was a Spider for the SBI, by Neal Barrett, Jr.

Readers of science fiction magazines know that editors often like to include silly comedies in their publications.  This is no exception.  Three secret agents infiltrate a planet of large, spider-like beings by wearing a costume that resembles one of the aliens.  Slapstick antics result. 

The author sacrifices logic for the sake of cheap laughs.  The commander of the spies, for example, wears cowboy boots and a purple kilt, with no explanation.  The only female character exists purely for the sake of sex jokes.  One star.

Darkness Box, by Ursula K. LeGuin

This story features a typical fantasy setting, but uses it in a creative way.  The inhabitants of the imaginary world include a witch, a king, a warrior prince, and other characters often encountered in fairy tales.  There are, however, strange details that make the story more original.  There is no sun, and no shadows.  The young son of the witch finds a box containing only darkness.  It proves to have an important effect on the unending war between the prince and his rebellious brother.  The author creates a compelling tale from familiar elements.  Four stars.

Witch of the Four Winds (Part 1 of 2), by John Jakes

The hero of this sword-and-sorcery yarn is Brak the Barbarian, last seen in the May issue.  While wandering around in search of his fortune, he rescues a woman from a monster in a cave.  When he emerges from its lair, he discovers that something had killed his horse.  This eventually leads him to an evil sorceress who plots to obtain the power to transform lead into gold through human sacrifices.

This two-fisted adventure story moves briskly, and has some vivid descriptions, but it lacks originality.  Clichés abound, and the protagonist might as well be Conan.  Lacking the elegant style and imagination of a Fritz Leiber, the author provides an ordinary example of the genre.  Two stars.

And on the Third Day, by John J. Wooster

This two-page vignette takes place at the time of the Crucifixion.  Two aliens plan to use advanced technology to create the illusion of a Resurrection.  The result is unexpected.  Without getting in a theological debate, let's just say that this is a fable of the power of faith.  Three stars.

It's been said that familiarity breeds contempt, and my harsh review of a mediocre issue tends to prove that.  Although those of us who enjoy fantasy and science fiction are comfortable with themes we've seen before, we demand that something new be done with them. 




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Book

[October 22, 1963] A Whole New Fantasy (Andre Norton's Witch World)

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by Rosemary Benton

Andre Norton (a common name for me now) released her new book into the wild of the science-fiction section of local book stores earlier this month! Being October and therefore the prime time to read anything horror or fantasy related, I didn't spend much time dithering about adding Witch World to my pile of literature by the bookstore register.

For this adventure, veteran story teller Andre Norton starts by introducing her audience to disgraced U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel Simon Tregarth as he flees on his last leg from some unsavory business associates. After a chance meeting with a renowned people smuggler, he bargains for passage from our reality to one which he is promised to be “attuned" with. Skeptical, but figuring that his only other option is death at the hands of thugs, he agrees to what is supposedly a one way passage off of Earth. After successfully traveling through the supposed Siege Perilous, he jumps to the aid of a ragged woman pursued by hounds and soldiers. He quickly learns that the person he has saved is a witch (also referred to as one of the Women of Power) of the besieged land of Estcarp. Jump forward a time and Simon has almost seamlessly integrated himself into this strange new world of sword, guns and fickle sorcery.

Over the course of the story he travels over the known world, coming face to face with oddly advanced machinery within what is otherwise a medieval society. Ultimately he learns of forces and enemies which he and the native people within the realms barely grasp. The book wraps up with Simon and his allies winning the day against their mutual enemy, the Koltar. However, in doing so the extent of his adopted world's vulnerability from other realities begins to become clear, and with that realization the story ends with an uneasy sense of dread.

The plot of of Witch World is passable, but unfortunately the enjoyment of the novel is not to be found in any thrilling exploits of its characters. Overall their personalities do not come with anything particularly remarkable, and unfortunately that translates into character arcs that are alright, but not unexpected. The real reason to read Witch World is the vivid plethora of mythos and the fantastical history which shapes Norton's world. It's absolutely brimming with potential that I hope Norton will take advantage of in future stories.

Despite the bizarre whimsy of the cover by Jack Gaughan which prominently features a gun wielding man in a blue leotard with a comical bird beak sticking far out from his forehead, the cultures and environments of Witch World are filled with intense, gritty peoples who have distinct traditions and garb best suited to their rough lives. Spandex is pretty much the opposite of what anyone in Witch World wears. This is a high fantasy world with magic and chain mail, medieval feudalism and tribalism, and primitive, cruel ideas about a man and woman's roles. At the same time, however, there is deliberately juxtaposed science-fiction technology thrown in. Robotic birds, surgically and chemically induced mind control, and guns spring up with little preamble.

The way in which Norton merges a handful of advanced technology with a deeply structured fantasy culture struck me as distinct from other genre bridging stories. Previous sci-fi/fantasy stories I have pored through seem to favor the merger of the two genres almost equally. Some novels seem to use magic merely as another word of misunderstood science. Consider, in John Brunner's Secret Agent of Terra, the isolated people of Planet 14 who are not privy to exactly how an ancient food processor works and consider the domestication of animals to have mystical origins. The visitors from Earth do know how to work the old technology and are well aware of the planet's history of animal husbandry, yet they feed this misconception so as to not disturb the planet's natural evolution from magic believers to scientific pioneers. And therein lies the rub – for every “spell" there is a hidden keep of exposition.

When the subject of magic is approached in any of Norton’s writing there is never any easy solution lying right below the surface. Her flaire for piecing out information and not revealing more than what the characters themselves know keeps the reader on edge, as well as humble. This sense that there are always bigger forces at play, yet are never fully explained, teases the rational mind of the reader and allows for there to be doubt that anything “magical" can be easily quantified by rational, scientific method. It's very disquieting when Norton's established and venerated forces, like the witchcraft of the Women of Power and the Axe of Volt, are threatened by something indefinable that is even older and more powerful – travel across dimensions.

To belabor the point, Norton's book is in desperate need of a new front cover in future editions to better advertise this unease, since it is by far one of the biggest things the reader takes away from the novel. That and, of course, the potential for more stories of branching off of Witch World. The expansiveness of Norton's world is, frankly, astounding. The potential for twists and turns in future stories is greatly aided by the dimension travel that Norton subtly echoes back to again and again.

Andre Norton's Witch World has a spark of something much bigger, and while this first foray into its world was rather standard in terms of the main plot, the visible layers and grandiosity of Witch World just begs to be explored. It's hard to give a book like this a rating. Was it fun to follow the exploits of Simon Tregarth, Koris, Briant, and Jaelithe? A little, but they were not really the most interesting aspect of the novel. Did the story achieve what it set out to do in terms of world building? Absolutely. Did it make me want to read more? If any further Witch World books can make me as riveted to the history of this world as much as this book did, then absolutely. Ultimately I would say this was a three and a half star book. Well worth reading for the intricacy and intrigue of the universe Norton has created, but with characters who were outshined by their surroundings.

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Magazine, Science / Space Race

[October 20, 1963] Science Experiments (November 1963 F&SF and a space update)

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by Gideon Marcus

Good morning, everyone, and welcome to a special, extra-large Fifth Anniversary edition of the Galactic Journey. 

Five years ago tomorrow, I created the Journey to detail the day-by-day adventures of a science fiction magazine fan who just happened to also be a space journalist.  In the passage of five circuits around the sun, the scope of this project has expanded tremendously to cover books, movies, tv shows, comics, politics, music, fashion, and more.  The Journey has grown from a solo project to a staff of twenty spanning the globe.  Two years ago, we won the Rod Serling Award, and this year, we were nominated for the Hugo.

Imagine where we'll be in another half-decade!

Nevertheless, as we look back to our humble beginnings, it is appropriate that the topics I have slated for discussion today are ones we have covered sine 1958, namely the space race and The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Ticking back from Midnight

Earlier this month, President Kennedy signed the Senate-ratified Partial Nuclear Test Ban Treaty, outlawing American and Soviet above-ground nuclear tests.  No longer shall we detonate atomic blasts in the sky just to see the pretty glow and tinge our TANG with strontium-90.

It's an exciting first step toward controlling the nuclear genie, but the question now becomes, 'How do we enforce the ban?'  A way had to be developed to tell if the other side had tested a bomb without telling us.

Enter the two 'Vela-Hotel' satellites.  Launched on October 18, 1963, they have detectors sensitive enough to pick up the flash of radiation associated with a nuclear blast.  Moreover, these probes will do scientific duty while they enforce the peace, studying X-rays, gamma-rays, neutrons, and charged particles as they pass through interplanetary space, measuring the bow shock, the sheath, and the tail of Earth's magnetic field.  A series of six launches is planned.

Mapping the Magnetosphere

Though the energetic electrons and protons that swirl around the Earth barely weigh 150 pounds total, they carry the tremendous electric and magnetic charges that encircle our globe, protecting us from the endless solar wind of radiation.  One of the great scientific uses of satellites is the mapping of these magnetic fields to better understand the mechanism of their creation and their interaction with the sun's own fields.

Along with the two Vela-Hotels, a five-pound hitchhiker was launched specifically to measure the intensity of charged particles in the magnetosphere using an omni-directional radiation detector.

This new probe in some ways continues the mission of Explorer 14, which began to die in August of this year.  It's still running, but it has lost the ability to modulate its transmissions, rendering scientific data as an incomprehensible babble.  Nevertheless, the doughty satellite collected 6500 hours of data and mapped enough of Earth's magnetosphere to give it a definitive shape.  We now know that, in addition to the compressed bow shock where our planet's field meets that of the sun, there is a long tail in Earth's shadow in the shape of a pointed arch.  Explorer 14 also determined that Earth's field gradually shifts from the traditional north pole/south pole dumbell shape to a simple radial (round, equally distributed) field with distance from the planet.  Finally, Explorer 14 confirmed the tentative discovery reported by Explorer 6 that the charged particles trapped in Earth's magnetic field make a current of electricity ringing the Earth clockwise around its equator.

Pretty neat stuff!

Experiments in Literary SF

On the ground, the stable of authors in Editor Avram Davidson's pay has embarked on their own series of experiments in the form of the November 1963 F&SF.  Some were more successful than others, but none were failures (inasmuch as any experiment can be a failure…):

A Rose for Ecclesiastes, by Roger Zelazny

The once-proud civilization of Mars is a desiccated shell, a treasure trove of dusty tomes and ancient rites amidst tended by the last vestiges of the race.  What hidden wisdom lies behind the sacred temple walls of the Red Planet?  Polyglot and somewhat precious Mr. Gallinger is dispatched from Earth to find out.  Along the way, he learns the secret the Martian people have been carefully guarding, at profound cost to his soul.

This is a hard piece to judge.  On the one hand, it's very clearly an experiment at literary sf, the kind that Sturgeon and Dick have produced to tremendous effect many times in their careers. I greatly admire people who can write the stuff — I'm currently knee deep in my first attempt, so I understand the difficulty involved.  Zelazny almost pulls it off, but he's just not yet seasoned enough an author for the feat.  The story comes off as too affected to be entirely effective.

Moreover, there really is no excuse these days for Mars to be depicted as Earthlike nor its inhabitants entirely human.  That's not science fiction.  It's laziness. 

Three stars.

Mama, by Philip Winsor

Did you ever read the story where it turns out babies retain the memories of their past life for a while after reincarnation?  Apparently, Winsor has too, or Mama is a stunning case of convergent evolution.  Maybe I'm just remembering this tale from a past life.  Three stars.

Welcome Stranger, by Isaac Asimov

I just nonfiction articles on two axes: 1) How entertaining is it to read, and 2) Did I learn anything?  This particular piece is on Xenon, in particular; noble gasses, more broadly; and molecular bonds, in general.  My ignorance of chemistry is profound, so the fact that Dr. A was able to teach me about all of these topics and leave me with a desire to learn more is remarkable.  Four stars.

Wings of Song, by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.

When the last musical instrument has been lost, and even the wood to repair it is a forgotten memory, will song die as well?  This moving piece by sf-writer/musicologist Biggle is hardly plausible, but as a cautionary tale, it's thoroughly haunting.  Four stars.

Winged Victory, by S. Dorman

The sole woman-penned piece in the book (the "S." stands for "Sonya"), Victory involves a confirmed bachelor and the lady who hen-pecks him into submission.  It's a weird tale whose message is literally that the dating game is for the birds.  Just long enough to make its point; three stars.

Eight O'Clock in the Morning, by Ray Nelson

[So impressed was I by this tale that I read it aloud to my family one night.  The Young Traveler insisted on writing her own review — who am I to argue?]


by Lorelei Marcus

A man named Nada awakes to find the world's been overtaken by aliens that control every aspect of human life. These "Fascinators" lead us, own us, are among us, and so Nada finds it his duty to try and save us. A thrilling story to read, it has you on the edge of your seat questioning his every move. Is this really the savior of humanity, or some crazed serial killer? The story is woven with expert writing that gives the main character a lack of doubt (only we have doubts), and a quick pace. A thoroughly enjoyable and insightful short story, it won't take more than ten minutes of your time to read, and the ending might surprise you.  Five stars.

The Eyes of Phorkos, by L. E. Jones


by Gideon Marcus

Lastly, we have the tragic story of James Carew, an English dilettante who plunges into archaeology to compensate for the unhappiness stemming from his fantastically ugliness.  On a small island in the Aegean, he discovers that at least one of the legends of Perseus was based wholly in fact.  This find makes Carew heir to the powers of one of Greek Mythology's most terrifying monsters, and we all know the effect of power (particularly the absolute kind) on a character.

Written in a quaint style, it begins better than it ends, but it's never unrewarding reading.  Three stars.

As you can see, not only was the content of this issue experimental in nature, but so was the format.  Where F&SF normally has the most stories per issue of the SF digests, tending toward vignettes over longer pieces, the November issue had two full novellas and a handful of shorter stories.  This makeup is closer to that of, say, Analog.

The cover is also something of a departure, marking pulp era illustrator Hannes Bok's return to SF after a long hiatus.

All in all, I'd judge this issue a successful effort, certainly more challenging and rewarding than much of the stuff that comes out these days.  On the other hand, there's virtually no science in these pages, which is somewhat worrisome for a magazine whose title would suggest otherwise.

I'd be interested to know what you think.

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Magazine

[October 18, 1963] Points of View (December 1963 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Philosophers have long debated the nature of reality.  Are things what they seem to be, or do our senses deceive us?  Do you and I perceive the world in the same way, and is there any way to know?  Although there will never be a final answer to such questions, speculation about these matters can lead to intriguing works of fiction.  The latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow features many stories dealing with different perceptions of the universe: biased, distorted, ambiguous.

The Trouble with Truth, by Julian F. Grow

In the middle of the next century, Earth is united under a government run by computer.  News is restricted to the listing of confirmed data, with no human-interest stories allowed.  The narrator works for the world news agency.  His job is to prevent advertisers from planting misleading articles, and to ensure that only verifiable facts are presented in the media.  This leads to conflict with his fiancée, who runs a small monthly publication (barely tolerated by the authorities) which is not so restricted in its contents.  One of the odd things about this society is that marriage is not the same as matrimony.  The two main characters have gone through the first, but not the latter.  Another notable fact is that the woman is pregnant, and the couple will be able to choose the sex of their unborn child.  When a little girl and her father report a strange happening to the news agency, it leads to a change in the way the ruling computer views reality.

This story reminds me of Ray Bradbury in the way it promotes the importance of imagination over cold, hard facts.  The world it creates is an interesting one, but many of the futuristic details are irrelevant to the plot.  There's also a lot of expository dialogue.  How you feel about the ending, which makes use of a very famous essay from the past, depends on your tolerance for sentimentality.  It exceeded mine.  Two stars.

The Creature Inside, by Jack Sharkey

This is the newest entry in the author's Contact series, previously published in Galaxy, in which the protagonist's consciousness enters the bodies of aliens.  In this adventure, he has a very different assignment.  A man is placed in a room that allows him to experience his fantasies as if they were real.  The room also has a device that can manufacture whatever he wants from any raw material.  The intent is to treat the man's inferiority complex.  Unfortunately, he actually suffers from delusions of grandeur.  The problem is to get him out of his imaginary world, where he would be able to survive indefinitely.  The hero enters the room, where he encounters various illusions, as well as dangers that are all too real.

Although nothing very surprising happens, the hallucinations are vividly described and the story holds the reader's interest.  The protagonist learns something about his own desires, adding a nice touch of characterization to an otherwise unmemorable hero.  Three stars.

The God-Plllnk, by Jerome Bixby

Two alien beings witness a strange object land on Phobos.  They assume it is a god, because it resembles a gigantic version of themselves.  They presume that the creatures emerging from it are similar to the parasites that plague their own bodies.  Unfortunate consequences follow.

This is a brief story about what can happen when events are misinterpreted.  The outcome is predictable.  The author's use of unpronounceable alien words doesn't help.  Two stars.

Goodlife, by Fred Saberhagen

This is a sequel to Fortress Ship, which recently appeared in the pages of If.  Three people survive an attack on their spaceship by a gigantic warship known as a berserker.  One is near death from his injuries.  The computer brain of the berserker orders them to come aboard so it can study humans.  They agree, desperately hoping for an opportunity to destroy the relentless machine.  Living alone on the berserker is a man, conceived from cells taken from human prisoners.  He has never known anything but a life of slavery, with severe punishment for failure to obey the berserker.  At first, he is terrified by the arrival of other people.  The berserker commands him to co-operate with them, knowing it has already deactivated the bomb they brought with them.  What follows is a tense cat-and-mouse game, with the humans learning something new about the origin of the berserkers.

This is a suspenseful tale, with a great deal of insight into the psychology of the berserker's slave.  His distorted view of humanity provides much pathos.  The journey through the interior of the enormous machine is awe-inspiring.  The ending is sudden, but otherwise satisfying.  Four stars.

Science and Science Fiction: Who Borrows What?, by Michael Girsdansky

This is an informal article, which makes the obvious point that SF writers are inspired by the discoveries of science, and vice versa.  It wanders all over the place, from legends of Atlantis to Project Ozma.  The most interesting detail, discussed in a single paragraph, is the fact that MIT students were required to design products for an imaginary alien species.  Two stars.

Far Avanal, by J. T. McIntosh

For reasons not entirely clear, the population of future Earth consists of three times as many men as women.  This leads to a society in which women pick their husbands as they please, and many men go without wives.  The protagonist loses his intended to another man, an event that is all too common.  He receives an offer to journey to a colony planet, where the sexes are evenly matched.  The drawback is that he will have to travel through space in suspended animation while decades go by.  If he decides to return to Earth, an option he insists upon when he accepts the offer, he will be an anachronism, half a century out of date.  Things don't turn out as expected, and he must change his assumptions about his new world and the people who inhabit it.

I have mixed feelings about this story.  The premise is contrived, but the author presents the consequences of it in a convincing way.  Although some of the women are selfish and vain, another is by far the most intelligent, competent, and sympathetic character in the piece.  At the start, the main character is suspicious to the point of paranoia; he eventually learns to overcome his distorted view of others.  This touch of psychological depth makes the story worth reading.  Three stars.

The Great Slow Kings, by Roger Zelazny

Two aliens rule over their planet as monarchs, although their only subject is a robot.  The sole remaining members of their species, they think, speak, and act extremely slowly.  A single conversation lasts for centuries.  They decide to send the robot on a spaceship in order to bring back members of another species as subjects.  The relative swiftness of their captives leads to complications.  The way in which the aliens have a completely different view of time than their new subjects, possibly supposed to be human beings, made this a droll little story.  Three stars.

When You Giffle . . ., by L. J. Stecher, Jr.

This is the third tall tale from the captain of the starship Delta Crucis, previously seen transporting an elephant, then a cargo of valuable plants.  In his wildest adventure yet, he winds up lost, in an unknown part of space.  Two little boys, calmly swimming in the vacuum between the stars, help him find his way, as well as enabling him to carry a whale that is much too big to fit inside his spaceship.  The children, with their god-like telekinetic abilities, may be intended as a parody of the kind of psionic supermen found in Analog.  In any case, this is a silly story, providing only broad comedy.  Two stars.

All We Marsmen (Part 3 of 3), by Philip K. Dick

The latest work from an author who recently won the Hugo for his novel, The Man in the High Castle concludes.  This installment falls somewhere between the realistic narrative style of the first third and the jarring surrealism of the middle portion.  A meeting between a schizophrenic repairman and an avaricious head of the Martian water union, which was previewed in multiple, distorted ways in Part Two, takes place.  The repairman has no memory of it at all.  The union leader vows to take revenge on the repairman, whom he believes failed and betrayed him.  Following the advice of his Martian servant, he sets out on a pilgrimage with an autistic boy to a sacred site of the natives.  His goal is to use the boy's ability to perceive and manipulate time to change the past, so he can claim ownership of a seemingly worthless piece of land, which will be valuable in times to come.  The boy has a terrifying vision of his future as an old man, trapped in a nursing home, most of his body missing, kept barely alive by machines.  The novel returns to its opening scene, as the union leader relives his first encounter with the repairman, and the characters meet their fates.

The climax of this complex, difficult novel is dramatic.  The ambiguous nature of reality, shown through the union leader's mental journey through time, is vividly portrayed.  Readers who have been patient with its downbeat mood will be pleased with a touch of hope at the end.  The characters have the complicated personalities of real people.  (Even the union leader, who is definitely the novel's villain, is sometimes sympathetic.) I recommend reading all three parts together.  Waiting two months between installments weakens the impact of the circular structure of the plot.  (If it is published in book form, perhaps the title will be changed to something more appropriate.) Four stars.

As these stories show, science fiction can help us appreciate the way that others might see reality.  Perhaps, by looking through the eyes (or other sense organs) of different people (or other lifeforms) through the pages of our favorite magazines, we may come to have a empathy for those with other viewpoints, to be more tolerant of beliefs that don't match our own. 




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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[October 16, 1963] A Look at Fall Fashion; Scrying the Future by Looking Back

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by Gwyn Conaway

Jackets, Dresses, and Tights, oh my! Fall is here! In stores, in our homes, and in the chilly air! For fashion, though, the autumnal breeze has been calling our names since the runways of the late summer. And as far as fashion designers are concerned, red and orange foliage isn’t the only thing stirring our favorite season this year.

As major designers have released their latest trends, a chord has rung out across each and every fresh idea, one that fashion historians will pick up on immediately. Let’s take a look at what fashion designers are scrying in their crystal balls.


Biba is a rising star in London Fashion. Note that its illustrations harken back to the glory days of Art Deco. Gossip says they’ll be opening up a physical boutique soon, at 87 Abingdon Road.

Youth power is taking over fashion. The Beatles debut LP has rocketed them to the top of the charts, causing the frenzy we now call Beatlemania. Barbara Hulanicki and Stephen Fitz-Simon have also jumped on the bandwagon with their new mail-order service Biba, spreading London fashion worldwide. Last but certainly not least, the Beat Generation, although originally a literary movement in New York in the early 1950s, has grown ever more mainstream. All of these trends follow a pattern of cultural and aesthetic non-conformity we’ve seen time and time again in fashion history.

For fashion, paying homage to the past is not unusual. The style of bygone eras is imbued with more and more mystic power the longer time marches on. Fashion, much like music and writing, becomes nostalgic in a way that inspires future artists to be daring in their own time. Being inspired by the past can, ironically, push us forward into a new era.

Two recent fashion periods come to mind when considering youth revolutions. The Neoclassical–the era of Pride and Prejudice–spanning the early 19th century, and the rip roaring Twenties. To my glee, what do you suppose I found inspiring fall fashion this year?

Bing bing bing! If I didn’t point out that Coco Chanel designed the above Little Black Dress (middle) in 1927, most people would assume that it was contemporary style when in actuality, it transformed women’s lives more than three decades ago. No longer did women have to go home to change in between activities. With the LBD, one could jet from work to play and live a more mobile life.

When compared to Peggy Moffitt wearing Rudi Gernreich (right) or Pierre Cardin (left), the inspiration is shockingly clear. Note the low waist on both contemporary styles, with high necklines, flat chests, and columnar silhouette. Both designers have also looked to the details: While Gernreich draws from the LBD’s wide waistband, Cardin chose the pleated skirt.

Coco Chanel’s LBD isn’t the only Prohibition Era inspiration this year. Flappers, the ushers of rebellion and sexual awakening during the 1920s, are also in style, and they’ve moved from the tantalizing underground of dance halls and cocktails to modern day evening wear. Note above that the dress designed by Louise Boulanger in 1928 (left) has inspired the ombre feathered skirt, high round neckline, and low waist of James Galanos’ evening dress this year (right).


This model wearing Marimekko clearly looks back into a gallery of Neoclassical early-mid 18th century statues and paintings, symbolising our return to youth power and abandonment of traditionalism in fashion. Scalloped edges such as the color blocking on her dress, were dominant elements of design in both the Neoclassical and Art Deco movements as well.

The Neoclassical Era also plays a role in our fashion this fall. High necklines, short jackets with long, light-toned skirts, and simple bows are all reminiscent of the early 1800s. This comes at no surprise, considering Europe was celebrating the downfall of the French monarchy. After the Ancien Regime was booted from Versailles, a working class renaissance took hold of France’s youth. Women let go their corsets and hoops, just as our young people today have forgotten the merry widows and petticoats of the voluminous 1950s.

More traditional designers such as Christian Dior have taken up the Neoclassical for nuanced inspiration this year. Take above, for example, the Soiree a Venise Dress (left) and a pink evening gown (right), both from the House of Dior’s F/W 1963 collection. Note that both gowns have a high waistline and self-made bows (meaning the textile is used both for the body of the garment and the details). The skirt shape is stiff and while the pink ensemble’s bodice is covered in jewels, patterns and textiles are otherwise not mixed. The Neoclassical style is similar (middle), with self-made trims and bows, a stiff conical skirt, and high waistline.  

One final morsel in regards to the Neoclassical influence we see this year is this: it seems to me that we’re wearing our inspiration backwards. Note that this winter’s evening dresses hug the back of the body while the front explodes forward (right). In the early 1800s, our silhouette was exactly the opposite (left). Does this perhaps symbolize a move toward revolution while the Neoclassical represented the world after revolution? Whether or not this is the case, this short-lived phenomenon is compelling nonetheless.

As ever, fashion this fall is a fortune teller that looks back at history to comment on today. Designers sense the rise of youth power, and eagerly look forward to the clash of generations to come. I must admit that I look forward to it too. What a wild ride awaits us!




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Science / Space Race

[October 14, 1963] Take a little trip… (Timothy Leary's Psychedelic Review)

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by Erica Frank

Our external freedom is expanding daily. We are developing ever more powerful technology, with bold goals such as flying to the moon and someday the stars; the human race has a tremendous talent for turning potential into reality. Because of this, psychedelic research goes hand-in-hand with traditional science studies; as the introduction to this journal says: "We can no longer accept the notion of a value-free science or espouse a naive optimism with regard to scientific and technological progress. We need to complement our technical skill in controlling the external world with a corresponding development of our inner resources."

Doctor Timothy Leary has joined Ralph Metzner to found a new academic journal: the Psychedelic Review. The first issue was released in June, and I believe it's very relevant to the Journey. The Review's purpose is studying psychedelic substances like LSD, psilocybin and mescaline, in order to enhance "the individual's control over his own mind, thereby enlarging his internal freedom."

It's dense reading, very much an academic journal aimed at philosophers, historians, and medical professionals. I am none of these, but the articles are still fascinating to me (and hopefully, to you, too!)

"Can This Drug Enlarge Man's Mind?", Gerald Heard

Gerald Heard is an esteemed philosopher with multiple books in that field, and the the author of science fiction books The Doppelgangers and The Lost Cavern.

The drug in question is LSD, short for Lysergic Acid Diethylamide – no wonder everyone uses the initials! The editors mention the controversy surrounding the drug: its detractors say it warps minds, while its proponents claim it inspires creativity and perhaps even wisdom. It is agreed, however, that it is not habit-forming nor physically toxic.

Heald describes the subjective effects of LSD, as reported by its users: it produces "a profound change in consciousness… You see and hear this world, but as the artist and musicians sees and hears." This shift in awareness, a kind of hyper-sensitivity to the world, often also brings a new awareness of the self; Heard compares this to a passage in the Odyssey, which differentiates between two types of thought: those from "the Gate of Horn," relating to events of the real world, and those from the "Gate of Ivory," the source of fantasy. LSD brings ideas from the latter, which are so intense that they can result in profound changes like those of a deep religious experience. He points out that the drug does not create personality changes; the experience only awakens the potential; he recommends more research find the full value of LSD in psychoanalysis and the creative arts.

Worth reading for the combination of internal reports and external description of the LSD experience.

The Subjective After-Effects of Psychedelic Experiences: A Summary of Four Recent Questionnaire Studies, Editors

This reviews and combines the results of four questionnaires filled out by people who have experienced LSD or psilocybin mushrooms in psychiatric settings. Most people claimed it was a positive experience; only a scant handful believe it harmed them. Many now noticed a deeper significance to various aspects of life; some reported that the people close to them had noticed positive changes. Some benefits lasted for years after a single experience, such as alcoholics with longer periods of sobriety and fewer arrests.

The calculations were especially interesting, as they showed how to take an intensely subjective experience and describe it in a way that's useful for medical research. I am not convinced, however, that the psilocybin study should've been included, since it's a different substance and it involved student volunteers instead of psychiatric patients.

"The Hallucinogenic Fungi of Mexico: An Inquiry into the Origins of the Religious Idea Among Primitive Peoples", R. Gordon Wasson

Wasson and his wife studied the history of mushrooms across the world, looking through ancient texts in multiple languages, trying to figure out what role mushrooms played in folklore and history.

His research focuses on psychoactive mushrooms, and how they were used for ecstatic experiences, allowing the user to feel that the human soul has touched the divine. He mentions that we have no good ways to describe these experiences:

We are entering upon a discussion where the vocabulary of the English language, of any European language, is seriously deficient. There are no apt words in them to characterize your state when you are, shall we say, "bemushroomed." For hundreds, even thousands, of years we have thought about these things in terms of alcohol, and we now have to break the bonds imposed on us by the alcoholic association.

He traveled into the mountains of Mexico, regions where the old languages are still used and Spanish is rare (and of course, they've barely heard of English), and took mushrooms under the guidance of tribal shamans. The practical details were covered in "Seeking the Magic Mushroom," published in Life magazine a few years ago; this article focuses on the experience itself. He seems to be looking for words that does not exist, and so falls back on using several paragraphs to describe the sensations and realizations he had.

I found the linguistic aspects of this article more interesting than the philosophical considerations, although those were also intriguing.

"A Touchstone for Courage", Plato

This is an excerpt of a passage from Plato's The Laws. I have never done well with Plato. I agree with Clinias: "I fear I hardly follow you, yet pray proceed with your statement as though I did."

Plato mentions how potential courage is rarely fully developed because most people don't often face their fears. He then discusses the value of a hypothetical drug that could inspire fear, and allow people to overcome those fears without the physical risks that attend most challenges that require courage.

The implication is that even the unpleasant, darker experiences of LSD and related substances have value: they allow people to face their innermost fears, and if not conquer them, at least endure them, and realize the fear itself did not destroy them.

I can't tell if this is "Plato taken far out of context" or "exactly the kind of consideration he would've wanted to inspire."

"Provoked Life: An Essay on the Anthropology of the Ego", Gottfried Benn

Gottfried Benn was an expressionist poet and author; this essay was originally published in Germany in 1949 and is reprinted with permission; this may be the first English translation available to the public.

The essay is beautiful and intense… and I have no idea what it actually says. It reads like a longer, more detailed and personal version of the drug experiences described in the earlier articles. The purple prose makes it hard to follow; the essay is packed with exotic imagery and sensory overloads, enough that I couldn't decide if he was making a point or just pondering a set of ideas.

"The Individual as Man/World", Alan W. Watts

Alan Watts is a philosopher who strives to bring Buddhist concepts into mainstream, Western psychology. His works include The Way of Zen and The Joyous Cosmology: Adventures in the Chemistry of Consciousness. This article, originally a lecture delivered at Harvard, doesn't address psychedelics per se, but the personal experience of consciousness.

Watts points out that how people understand their own existence often does not match well with the descriptions taught in the sciences: a biologist's or ecologist's description of humanity bears little relation to human life as we experience it. Modern science is just as much a victim of cultural biases as the ancient Greeks, which presumed that all living things were distorted reflections of pure, abstract archetypes.

He discusses importance of considering people as a whole being, not a collection of parts, despite the current trends in medicine and psychology to reduce people to organ-based emotions and socially programmed impulses.

Watts is a delight to read. Even when he's explaining very complex concepts, he uses down-to-earth language that sets a foundation that builds them toward a single point of understanding. This is probably my favorite article in this issue.

"Annihilating Illumination", George Andrews

This is a poem in the Beat style: it does not rhyme; most lines don't begin with capital letters; they aren't of matching lengths; there is an utter lack of punctuation in this three-page poem, save for a single quoted sentence and the final period.

It reads like a shorter, less pompous version of "Provoked Life," and is therefore much more accessible, if not any more comprehensible.

While being struck by lightning in slow motion
the fire sears away layer after layer
sizzles me down to my ultimate ash
I quiver shrieks of laughing crystals
the radiant frenzy of the storm's soul dwells in the guts of the dragon

That's the beginning; it continues like that for three pages. I think I don't have access to the right drugs to enjoy this kind of poetry.

"The Pharmacology of Psychedelic Drugs", Ralph Metzner

This is the hard science article. It defines psychedelic substances  as those "whose primary effect on human subjects is the radical alteration of consciousness, perception and mood", and outlines the criteria for the ones being included in this review. These include negligible somatic effects, no addictive qualities, and a specific history in psychiatric literature.

I confess, I skimmed this article. I am not a chemist, not a biologist; once they start dragging out the molecular structure charts, I can be entertained but not informed. I know enough chemistry to understand the raw meanings of the diagrams, but not enough to have any idea how those connect to the practice of medicine.

This article is 30 pages; the references are an additional 15. The tone is very different from the other articles. It's written by one of the editors; I wonder if they created the journal for the purpose of publishing this. It reads like a chemical study in a medical journal, of little interest to other fields. It's possible that psychiatrists would find value in it, but only for understanding the biological effects; this article lacks the humanizing approach of the others.


Dr. Timothy Leary and Dr. Richard Alpert, Harvard, 1961

If you read medical journals, Psychedelic Review may be right up your alley. Otherwise, it comes across as a heavy-handed attempt to insist that psychedelic substances are worthy of real scientific consideration. This is understandable, given the recent history of the editors.

In May of this year, just about the time this issue was published, Dr. Leary and Dr. Richard Alpert were fired from Harvard for involving students in psychedelic substance testing. While they committed no crimes in sharing LSD and psilocybin with students, they did violate university policy, which only allows such substances to be given to graduate students. In addition, the university claims Leary was not meeting his lecture requirements.

I suppose that means he'll have more time to focus on research; I look forward to future issues of the Psychedelic Review.

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Magazine

[October 12, 1963] WHIPLASH (the November 1963 Amazing)

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by John Boston

In all the excitement last month about August’s civil rights march, I forgot to mention the other big news that has reached from Washington all the way to small town Kentucky.  On the first day of school, my home room teacher, sad expression on her face, informed the class that because of the Supreme Court’s decision, issued after the end of the last school year, barring official religious exercises in public schools , we would no longer be able to have prayer and Bible reading at the beginning of each school day.  

What a relief!  But I kept a straight face and eyes front and was thankful that the authorities here decided just to obey the law.  I gather in some places, mostly farther south, the peasants are out with torches and pitchforks. Anyway, one down. Fortunately, we only have to say the Pledge of Allegiance in assemblies every month or two, rather than every school day as is the case in some places.  So it’s a relatively minor annoyance. What a blessing this modern Supreme Court has been. It makes all the right people angry.

The November Amazing doesn’t make me angry, just bored, at least to begin.  It is dominated by Savage Pellucidar, a long novelet by Edgar Rice Burroughs, the fourth and last in a series of which the first three appeared in Amazing in 1942.  This one has been sitting in Burroughs’s safe for two decades, says Sam Moskowitz’s brief introduction. (ERB died in 1950.)

The story is set in Burroughs’s version of the hollow Earth, with land and oceans and a sun in the middle, in which various characters traverse the land- and sea-scapes mostly looking for each other, fending off several varieties of dangerous wildlife (reptilian and mammalian alike) and other perils, as the author cuts from plot line to plot line to maximize the suspense that can be wrung from this rather tired material.  The obvious question: is why wasn’t this story published along with the others? One might guess that it was rejected—or perhaps Burroughs lacked the temerity even to submit it.

There is certainly evidence here that the author had grown a bit tired of the whole enterprise and had difficulty taking it seriously.  One of the characters, a feisty young woman named O-aa, nearly falls to her death after escaping the fangs of a clutch of baby pterodactyls, saving herself by grabbing a vine: “ ‘Whe-e-oo!’ breathed O-aa.”  Burroughs would have been pushing 70 when he wrote this. I gather his once impressive rate of production had slowed pretty drastically by the early 1940s. Maybe he was just too old and tired by then to produce even at his previous level of conviction, and had just enough discernment left to toss this in the safe and forget about it—unlike his heirs.  One yawning star.

Or maybe I am just a cranky voice in the wilderness, or far out to sea.  I see the Editorial celebrating the “astounding revitalization of Edgar Rice Burroughs,” and on the facing page a full-page ad for the new Canaveral Press editions of Burroughs—11 volumes published, eight more coming shortly, including one with the four Amazing novelets of which this one is the last.  Catch the wave! Thanks but no thanks. Humbug for me, shaken not stirred.

So, what’s left to salvage here?  There are three longish short stories, starting with Harry Harrison’s Down to Earth, which begins as an earnest near-space hardware opera, and continues with the astronauts returning from Moon orbit to an Earth—specifically, a Texas—in which the Nazis are in the end stages of conquering the world, though the beleaguered Americans quickly snatch the bewildered astronauts away from the invaders.  A superannuated Albert Einstein appears, stealing the show and providing a solipsistic handwaving explanation. Matters speed to a predictably unpredicted conclusion. Most writers would have stretched this material at least to Ace Double length; Harrison crams it into a very fast-moving short story, and good for him. There’s nothing especially original here, but four stars for audacious presentation.

Philip K. Dick contributes his second story in two months, What'll We Do with Ragland Park?, which despite its title is not about urban planning, but is a sequel to last month’s Stand-By.  Maximilian Fischer is still President, and he’s thrown the news clown Jim Briskin in jail.  Communications magnate Sebastian Hada is scheming from his stronghold (“demesne” as the author calls it) near John Day, Oregon, to spring Briskin so Briskin can revitalize Hada’s failing network.  To the same end, he recruits Ragland Park, a folksinger, whose songs tend to come true, and uses Park’s compositional talent for his own ends before realizing how dangerous it is.

There’s plenty else going on, such as Hada’s consultations with his psychoanalyst, Dr. Yasumi, who speaks in cliched semi-broken English (“Pretty sad that big-time operator like Mr. S. Hada falling apart under stress.”), and the unexplained fact that Hada has eight wives, one of whom is psychotic and is brought back from her residence on Io on 24 hours’ notice by the President to try to assassinate Hada.  There are also things inexplicably not going on, like the alien invasion fleet which is mentioned in passing but doesn’t seem to be doing anything, or maybe the characters just don’t care. By any rational standard, this is a terrible story: loose, rambling, and arbitrary, in sharp contrast to Harrison’s tightly written and constructed story, or for that matter Dick’s own Hugo-winning The Man in the High Castle.  But Dick’s woolly satirical ramblings are still clever and entertaining, like Stand-By more comparable to a stand-up routine than what we usually think of as a story. Three stars.

Almost-new author Piers Anthony—one prior story, in Fantastic a few months ago—is present with Quinquepedalian, which is just what it sounds like: a story about an extraterrestrial animal with five feet.  Monumentally large animal, very large feet, with which it is trying to stomp the space-faring protagonist to death, not without reason. And it seems to be intelligent. How to communicate that it is pursuing a fellow sophont, and persuade it to let bygones be bygones? This one is for anyone who says there are no new ideas in SF, for certain values of “idea.”  Four stars for ingenuity and a different kind of audacity than Harrison’s.


   
Ben Bova, whom I am beginning to think of as the 60-cycle hum of Amazing, has the obligatory science article, The Weather in Space, pointing out that the vacuum of space is no such thing; there’s matter there (though not much by our standards), plenty of energy at least this close to a star, plasma (i.e., ionized gas), the solar wind, solar flares, etc.  This is accompanied by perhaps the most inapposite Virgil Finlay illustration yet for this series of articles. This piece is more interesting than most to my taste, or maybe just better suited to my degree of ignorance; I found it edifying, though Bova remains a moderately dull writer. Three stars.

Well, that was bracing.  What’s the cliche? The night is darkest just before the dawn?  Something like that, anyway. From the doldrums of ERB to three pretty decent short stories, in nothing flat and 130 pages.   But I could do without the whiplash.

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TV

[October 10, 1963] The Outer Limits of television — a first look

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by Natalie Devitt

Does television really need another science fiction anthology series? This is a question I wrestled with not too long ago, back when I heard that ABC had announced their plans to air a new anthology titled The Outer Limits on Monday nights. Sure, I will happily watch just about anything. But does the average person have the time to devote to the show, especially after having watched anything from Science Fiction Theatre to The Twilight Zone? Would The Outer Limits offer anything new, or just simply rework the same stories that we have been watching on other programs for years? On a mission to answer these questions and to save your precious time, I went to The Outer Limits once a week for its first month. Here is what I found:

The Galaxy Being, by Leslie Stevens

The show began with a pretty strong introduction. I was immediately interested as the narrator intoned:

“There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission.”

But shortly after the episode started going, I found myself somewhat disappointed. The Galaxy Being is a great example of an interesting idea that is hurt by execution. It features a radio station engineer named Allan, played by Gidget actor Cliff Robertson, who frequently conducts his own experiments at work. Allan makes contact with a being from out of this world called the Galaxy Being.

Allan is intrigued by the Galaxy Being, but is unable to communicate with the alien for too long, due to his wife urging him to attend an event with her. So he leaves the station in the care of a trusted colleague for what he plans to only be an hour with explicit instructions not to alter the controls unless it be an absolute emergency. When Allan is unable to make it back to the station in time (of course), the disc jockey manning the controls increases the transmission, accidentally teleporting the alien to Earth. Once on Earth, the alien receives a less than warm welcome by a number of very frightened humans.

Allan is portrayed as something of a mad scientist, sacrificing his marriage in the pursuit of knowledge. The problem is that the script fails to really establish a strong relationship between him and his wife. As a result, it’s hard to care about Allan’s deteriorating romantic relationship as it is being impacted by the time he spends conducting his research at the station, and it’s hard to understand how his wife could convince him to hand over the radio controls to someone else the night the Galaxy Being is unleashed on the town.

While I did not find the Galaxy Being to be very visually appealing with his fish eyes, I must admit that he is certainly unique and that the technology used to create him is unlike anything I have ever seen before. So, that is worth noting. But unfortunately, there is the sequence where the Galaxy Being is shown causing all kinds of chaos in Allan’s home town once he is teleported to Earth.

Lights flicker and the wind suddenly starts howling, while the alien wanders through the streets at night. He breaks things, sends people screaming, women faint. I must admit as things went on, I found it increasingly difficult to suspend disbelief. The episode suddenly changed tone, and the whole episode started to feel like something straight out of a movie by American International Pictures.

Overall, The Galaxy Being was entertaining, but some elements made it hard to take it seriously as it went on. The whole thing made me wonder what kind of long-tern potential The Outer Limits has. In any case, I give The Galaxy Being two and a half stars.

The One Hundred Days of the Dragon, by Allan Balter and Robert Mintz

The One Hundred Days of the Dragon is a story about a government which may or may not be China's replacing a presidential candidate with a spy right before he is elected into office. The spy has all kinds of plans to take over the United States government, and while all of that sounds interesting, believe me when I write that you have to see the episode to believe it. It is like The Manchurian Candidate’s crazy distant relative.

The Hundred Days of the of the Dragon is more of a thriller, and the script a little more far-fetched, than I had anticipated. All in all, it was well-shot with decent acting, including the work of actor Sidney Blackmer. The musical score, while a little overdone, was effective, and would not be out of place on a Martin Denny record. My big gripe with the episode is that I am confused about the tone that the series is trying to strike with its audience this week. For that reason, I give the episode two and a half stars.

The Architects of Fear, by Meyer Dolinsky

In an attempt to bring together mankind, a group of overly-optimistic scientists devise a plan to create a threat so great that people from all walks of life will have no choice but to unite together — a hoaxed extraterrestrial invasion. The plan involves one of their men undergoing a number of procedures to be transformed into a hideous alien. Robert Culp plays Allen, the man selected at random for the role, who sacrifices everything in his life, including a wonderful marriage and an unborn baby, to try to make people see beyond their differences.

This was the episode that I was waiting for all month long, infinitely more compelling than anything else shown on The Outer Limits thus far. The character development in this episode is vastly superior than in the previous episodes; the relationship between Allen and his wife is one of the story’s greatest strengths. By understanding their bond, the viewer understands exactly what Allen is sacrificing by undergoing experiments and presenting himself as a serious potential threat to humans.

Everything was beautifully shot and dramatically lit with dark shadows, which only helped to accentuate the drama and create a strong sense of atmosphere. So did the point of view shot from Allen’s perspective when he transitions and things begin to look more blurry.  The expressionistic approach to the scene could not have been more effective.

Also, the alien that Allen transformed into is quite frightening and rather detailed. The special effects makeup on Allan during his transitions from human into alien are fairly realistic. All in all, the episode is a good balance of both heart and brain. I give it four and a half stars.

The Man with the Power, by Jerome Ross

The Man with the Power stars British actor Donald Pleasence as a college professor trapped in a meaningless job and a loveless marriage with an overbearing wife. Out of a desire to create some kind of purpose to  his life, he decides against his wife and his employer’s wishes to participate in a scientific study in which an object is implanted into his head, which causes him to develop telekinetic powers. The catch is that his new power seems to be affected by his emotions, and years of built up anger and resentment make his telekinetic abilities increasingly difficult to control.

Despite being fairly well-acted by Donald Pleasence, The Man with the Power failed to offer up anything new. In fact, the script seemed a little too much like Forbidden Planet with the whole emphasis on the man with an inability to control his id. And since the story provided no new material or perspectives, it was fairly predictable. I give The Man with the Power two and a half stars.

The Outer Limits may have the power to control transmission, but can the show keep viewers tuning in week after week? The verdict is still out. The show seems to be much more rooted in science fiction than most other anthology shows in recent years, which is a distinguishing point, but the batting average will probably have to improve: this month only gave me one fantastic, one somewhat entertaining and two otherwise okay episodes.

Guess I’ll just have to tune in next month to give you much more definitive answers to the questions that I posed at the beginning of this article. I hope you will join me next month for another a trip into The Outer Limits.



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Magazine

[October 8, 1963] The Big Lemon (November 1963 IF)

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by Gideon Marcus

New York.  Gateway to America.  Home of Broadway, the Empire State Building, Times Square, etc. etc.

Big deal.

This week, my wife and I took a United 707 from LAX to Newark for a mini-vacation.  A good friend of ours, whom we met in fandom, lives in Morristown, New Jersey.  We stayed in bucolic west New Jersey for a couple of lovely days before hopping the train into Town.  You see, I'd never really been to the Big Apple, and my wife had enjoyed the last couple of times.  Plus, there was a little convention going on at the time to serve as an anchor.  What the hell.

Hell and anchor are right.  Lemme tell you, bub — two nights in mid-town, with the bums, the horns, and the smoke, will sour anyone on the place.  Maybe the folks here are inured to this constant assault on all of the senses, but for a country boy like me, it warn't no fun.  The con was a crummy, disorganized mess, too.

All right.  I can see you natives getting your fur up.  To your credit, there were some interesting-looking shows on the Great White Way, and my last meal on the island involved some of the tastiest pizza I've ever had, and we managed to meet a clutch of truly excellent people in Manhattan.  But we're happy to be back in quiet ol' Morristown for our last day, and ever-so-glad to be heading home tonight.

The experience is not unlike the one I had reading this month's IF Science Fiction.  It had a few bright spots, but otherwise was a tough slog.  I understand that IF was the low rent sister to Galaxy, offering a bare cent and a half per word and getting what it paid for.  When Fred Pohl took over the mag in 1961, he raised the rates for new stories and closed the deal on a bunch of previously rejected bargain stuff to fill the cracks.  This issue appears to be made up entirely of the chaff.

The Governor of Glave, by Keith Laumer

Laumer's Retief series is getting long in the tooth.  There are only so many stories of a diplomat/super-spy (spy/super-diplomat?) we need.  This one was especially tired: the rabble coup the eggheads running a planet dependent on skilled engineers to keep the terraforming plants running.  Decent plot but horrible execution.  Hint to Laumer — if Retief doesn't feel any need to worry, neither does the reader.  Two stars.

The Second-Class Citizen, by Damon Knight

A hand-less dolphin trying to make it in a human world is truly a fish out of water.  But what happens when the roles reverse?  Damon Knight has returned to fiction writing after a long stint translating European works and doing book reviews.  That he's chosen the friendly bottlenose as his subject shouldn't surprise given the success of the recent movie, Flipper (not to mention Clarke's novel, People of the Sea.  This particular tale had promise, but it ends too quickly and ham-fistedly.  I look forward to better tales from Knight and about dolphins.  Three stars.

Muck Man, by Fremont Dodge

Here's a neat concept.  After a century of interstellar exploration, humanity has found a dozen inhabitable planets, but none of them are carbon-copies of the Earth.  Survival on any of them requires physical modification to deal with the immense gravities or impurities in the atmosphere or dangerous predators.  Thus, people who settle these alien worlds become, themselves, aliens.  It's very refreshing to find a depiction of a universe that isn't filled with perfectly suitable worlds.

This particular tale involves a fellow who is framed for the theft of a Slider egg, a coruscant treasure found only on Jordan's Planet.  Not only is one difficult to obtain, as they are vigorously defended by the fearsome Slider beasts, but they also have a limited lifespan.  Asa Graybar was working on a way to keep them alive indefinitely; thus, a put-up job by the Director of Operations of the primary distributor of Slider eggs, who wants to preserve their scarcity and value. 

Rather than cool his heels for five years in a conventional prison, Graybar elects to serve a one-year hitch on Jordan's Planet as a Muck Man — a human modified to be a powerful frog-like being.  Muck Men are well suited for digging Slider eggs and thriving in the swampy environs.  Graybar hopes to use his tenure on the mud planet to continue his research and, perhaps, clear his name.  Unfortunately for him, the guy who framed him also comes to Jordan's Planet to ensure Graybar doesn't finish his sentence.

It's a good, vivid story, and it even has a competent female character (heiress to the Slider egg distributor company).  However, it's about a third too short, perhaps cut for length like Panshin's Down to the Worlds of Men a few issues back.  Moreover, I'm getting tired of there being room for just one woman in any tale, and she only in a position of importance due to breeding.  Can't women make it to the top on their own merit?  Three stars and hoping for more next time.

Long Day in Court, by Jonathan Brand

This is the first story from "Brand," a university employee operating under a pseudonym.  It's an interstellar court of law story, consciously aping the not-at-all futuristic Perry Mason series.  The puzzler case of the day: when is beating your spouse both the crime and the punishment?

It's about as amusing as it sounds, though at least it's in English.  Two stars.

Glop, Goosh and Gilgamesh, by Theodore Sturgeon

Mr. "90% of everything is crap" proves that the rule applies to its inventor as well as the rest of us mortals.  This piece on asphalt is readable, but the guy is phoning in his non-fiction.  Get back to fiction, Ted!  Two stars.

The Reefs of Space (Part 3 of 3), by Jack Williamson and Frederik Pohl

The first part of this three-part serial introduced us to Steve Ryland, a physicist condemned to life imprisonment for subversive acts against the oppressively harmonious world-state run by a giant computer, The Machine.  Ryeland is asked to recreate the reactionless space drive and find the legendary Reefs of Space, free-floating inhabitable structures far beyond the orbit of Pluto.  The hope is that this will allow Earth's authorities to find Ron Donderevo, the one terran ever to escape the Machine's regime.

Part Two was almost a standalone tale, chronicling Ryeland's exile to and attempt to escape Heaven, where convicts are doped up and allowed to live a pleasant life — as their organs are harvested one by one until the host can't sustain life anymore.  Ryeland fails in the end, but is rescued by Donna Creery, daughter of The Planner, the one person on the planet with authority to change the Machine's programming. 

She and Steve escape to the Reefs of Space on the back of the seal-like "starchild," a beast that can travel across light years of vacuum without adverse effects.  In their new home, with the aid of the exiled Donderevo, they must prepare to face down dangers both indigenous and Earth-born

Reefs of Space is an odd duck.  It's a pair of pulpish book-ends around a virtually unassociated novella.  I suspect Parts 1 and 3 were written by Jack Williamson, whose bibliography goes back to the 20s, and Part 2 was done by Fred Pohl.  Certainly, the fascinatingly horrific aspects of it feel very Pohlian.  In any event, whereas Part 1 barely merited three stars and Part 2 was a surprisingly decent four-star episode, Part 3 is a muddled mess that ends on an abrupt and unsatisfactory note.  Plus, of course, it has the mandatory sole female whose high position is earned solely from having had a well-placed father.

Two stars for this section, three stars for the whole story.

A Better Mousetrap, by John Brunner

Last up, a piece from the often (but sadly, not always) excellent Britisher, John Brunner.  Hostile aliens have seeded the solar system with asteroid-sized clusters of precious metals that turn out to be ship-destroyers.  A very talky piece, as dull as it is nonsensical.  Two stars.

***

I won't denigrate this issue too much; IF has always been of widely variable quality, and the good issues make up for the lousy ones.  Still, if ever there was an issue to miss, this is it.

You're welcome.

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction