Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[March 4, 1966] Sanguinary Cinematic Surgery (Blood Bath and Queen of Blood)

1 Comment


by Victoria Silverwolf

Holiday for Hemophiles

A rather lurid double feature showed up at my local movie house a few days ago. Naturally, I had to go see it.


Nothing says Fun For The Whole Family like Shrieking Mutilated Victims.

Besides being released by (or escaping from) the same production company, these two films would seem to have little in common other than the prominent use of the word Blood in the title. This shouldn't come as a surprise, since American International also brought us Blood of Dracula (1957), Night of the Blood Beast (1958), and A Bucket of Blood (1959).

One is a black-and-white supernatural thriller, the other is a science fiction melodrama, full of bright colors. Quite different, right?

Actually, they resemble each other closely in a very specific way. Both make extensive use of footage from other movies. The scenes are chopped up, rearranged, and slapped back together, like making a Frankenstein's monster from random body parts. I'll go into detail as I discuss each film.

Art in the Blood

Let's start with Blood Bath, a confusing story that began as an ordinary crime drama.


Nothing like this actually happens in the movie. That's advertising for you.

Take a deep breath, because the path to the final product on screen is a long and tortuous one. (You may also find it torturous. Please note the distinction between these two terms.)

According to Hollywood gossip, this thing started life as a tale of murder filmed in Yugoslavia. It had something to do with a painting by the great artist Titian. None of this remains in Blood Bath.


Not a Yugoslavian crime film.

In fact, all we've got left are some nice scenes of Yugoslavia and the presence of actor William Campbell, familiar to me for his work in the psychological shocker Dementia 13 (1963). It was a pretty decent scare flick, written and directed by a newcomer named Francis Coppola.


Campbell stars in Blood Bath as an insane artist who lives in an old bell tower.

The next stop in the convoluted road to Blood Bath was to dump the plot and turn it into a horror movie involving a crazed painter. He imagines that he's possessed by the spirit of an ancestor, also an artist, who was condemned as a sorcerer way back in the bad old days. He kills his models and dumps them into a vat of wax.

Apparently this wasn't creepy enough for the producers. More new footage establishes that the madman is also a shapeshifting vampire. I don't mean that he turns into a bat or a wolf. I mean that he turns into another actor.

You see, Campbell was no longer available. Some other guy, who looks nothing at all like Campbell, plays the artist when he changes into a bloodsucker.


Not William Campbell.

I previously mentioned the movie A Bucket of Blood, which was an enjoyable black comedy about a guy who becomes an acclaimed sculptor when he accidentally kills a cat and covers the body in clay, creating his first masterpiece. He goes on to murder people and turn them into works of art in the same way. (I said it was enjoyable, not in good taste.)

Anyway, that film contains a great deal of biting satire concerning the pretentions of arty beatnik types. Blood Bath tosses that into the mix as well, resulting in a movie with wild shifts in mood from grim to comic.


Beatniks!

One artist produces what he calls quantum art by loading a pistol with a packet containing paint and shooting it at the canvas. Another applies paint directly to the face of a model, then shoves her into the canvas. (I felt sorry for the actress playing this tiny role, who had to put up with getting some kind of goop on her face.)

All this makes the movie seem like a real mess, and I can't deny that it's even less coherent than I've made it sound. And yet it's not without interesting moments. As I've mentioned, there are some fine scenes of Yugoslavia. (The film actually takes place in Southern California, so there are some inconsistencies. Notably, the bell tower is supposedly from medieval times.) The cinematography, in general, is quite good, creating an eerie mood, full of darkness and shadows.

The vampire attacks, although they stick out from the rest of the film like sore thumbs, are done with some imagination. There's one at a merry-go-round, and another in a swimming pool.

In particular, I was very impressed with a hallucinatory sequence. The artist imagines himself in a desert landscape full of strange objects, while his ancestor's mistress dances and laughs at him.


It reminds me of a Salvador Dali painting.

The ending, which I won't give away here, doesn't make much sense, but is strangely effective in its own way. That pretty much describes the whole movie, really.

Red Planet, Green Vamp

Let's leave Yugoslavia/California and head for outer space, in order to meet the Queen of Blood.


The portrait of the Queen is pretty accurate, but the movie does not feature tiny people floating in a giant spider web.

We start with some really nifty abstract art under the opening titles.


Painting by John Cline. He gets on screen credit, too.

Our helpful narrator tells us that it's the year 1990. People have settled the Moon, and are planning voyages to Mars and Venus. Space travel is under the auspices of the International Institute of Space Technology.

The IIST receives signals from another solar system, indicating intelligent life. We then cut to scenes of the alien world.  These are quite impressive, and show a great deal of visual imagination.


Looks like something Chesley Bonestell might have dreamed up, doesn't it?

Let me back up a bit and explain why some parts of this movie look quite lovely, and others look, well, cheap. Queen of Blood takes much of its footage from a Soviet film, Mechte navstrechhu. My Russian is a little rusty, but this seems to mean something like To the dream.

Similar things have happened in the past. The Noble Editor and the Young Traveler have already told us how the Soviet film Nebo Zovyot (The sky is calling, more or less) emerged as Battle Beyond the Sun in American theaters.

Last year, Planeta Bur (Storm planet) showed up as Voyage to the Prehistoric Planet. I'm sure more of this kind of thing will go on in the future. Why? Simply because the Soviet SF films are so visually impressive.


Take a look at this scene from the alien world in Queen of Blood, for example.

Back at the IIST, we meet our heroes, about to take a lunch break. Their meal is interrupted by the announcement that the alien message has been translated.


From left to right, John Saxon as Allen, Judi Meredith as Laura, Dennis Hopper as Paul, and Don Eitner as Tony. For a supposedly international organization, the IIST is sure full of Americans.

All four are astronauts, and Laura is also the communications expert we saw listening to the alien broadcast. She and Allen are romantically involved, but that doesn't prevent them from acting in a fully professional manner when on the job. I'll give the film credit for making Laura a vital character in the plot, rather than simply the Girl.

The leader of the IIST tells a huge crowd of listeners (more Soviet footage) that an alien spaceship is on its way to our solar system.


Very special guest star Basil Rathbone, everybody's favorite Sherlock Holmes, as the director of the IIST.

A small device, containing a record of the voyage, falls into Earth's ocean. This reveals that the aliens suffered an accident and crash landed on Mars.


The beautiful alien spaceship, before it leaves its home planet.

By the way, the scene in which the crowd listens to the announcement is visually stunning. It features a statue of heroic proportions, symbolizing humanity's exploration of space.


Seriously, isn't that monument gorgeous?

Naturally, the IIST sends astronauts to Mars to contact the aliens. Aboard the oddly named spaceship Oceano are Laura and Paul, along with a Dutch-accented commander. (OK, not everybody in the IIST is American or British.) The vessel is launched from the Moon, which allows us to see some very nice Soviet models of a lunar base.

The Oceano gets hit by a so-called sunburst on the way to Mars, forcing them to use extra fuel and causing some damage. They find the alien spaceship, occupied by one dead extraterrestrial. They figure out that some sort of lifeboat must have carried away the survivors of the crash.


In other news, home sales increase.

Because the Oceano II isn't ready yet — couldn't they think of another name? — Allan and Tony volunteer to take the much smaller Meteor to help with the search for the lifeboat. They can't land the tiny vessel on Mars and then take off again, due to limitations on how much fuel they can carry, but they can land on Phobos, due to the lesser gravity. (Hey! Some real science!)


The view from Phobos. Nice work, comrades.

The logistics of the space voyages get pretty complicated here. After the guys on the Meteor find the sole surviving alien on Phobos, thanks to pure dumb luck, it turns out that Allan can travel to Mars to join the crew of the Oceano with his extraterrestrial passenger aboard the Meteor's own lifeboat, but that Tony has to stay on Phobos and wait to be rescued by the Oceano II when it shows up in a week.

We finally get to meet our title character. She's well worth waiting for. Looking very much like a human woman, except for her green skin, she remains mute throughout the film. This makes her all the more intriguing.


Czech actress Florence Marly as the Queen of Blood.

Communicating with the Earthlings strictly through facial expressions and gestures, she clearly coveys a sense of friendship for the males, but dislike for Laura. Paul soon teaches her to drink water from a bottle, but she refuses all offers of food. She also reacts violently when Laura tries to take a blood sample from her, knocking the syringe to the floor in anger.


Paul demonstrates how to use a squeeze bottle. The Queen of Blood is more interested in another liquid.

Well, given the title, you can probably guess what comes next, and who the first victim will be. Suffice to say that the Queen of Blood was quite right to be suspicious of Laura, who turns out to be the film's real hero.


Queen of Blood eggs, suggesting that there should be a question mark at the end of the above phrase.

A Bloody Good Time

I won't claim these two films are masterpieces. Both have serious flaws.

Blood Bath is incoherent, to say the least. It does have some moody scenes, however, and its lack of plot logic gives it a dream-like feeling that may be appealing.

Queen of Blood suffers from the cheapness of the American scenes, obviously filmed on small stages, as opposed to the sweeping vistas of the Soviet scenes. On the other hand, Florence Marly's performance is compelling.


Oh, that's where the question mark went.

If you enjoy these movies, maybe you'll be inspired to do a good deed of some sort once you leave the theater.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




1 Comment Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[March 2, 1966] Words and Pictures (April 1966 IF)

7 Comments


by David Levinson

For a lot of people, February tops the list as their least favorite month. In the northern hemisphere, it’s cold and dark, and spring seems a long way off. The only things to break up the monotony are Valentine’s Day, which isn’t for everybody, and (most of the time) Carneval or Mardi Gras, which in the United States only matters if you’re near New Orleans and for lots of practicing Christians is immediately followed by giving up something nice for Lent.

As I look over my notes of newsworthy events for the last month, I see the usual things – coups, politics and power plays – but nothing that really catches my interest. Oh, there’s a couple of things that might develop into something, but they need time to come to fruition. Fortunately for my purposes, Fred Pohl has accidentally given us a little artistic puzzle to talk about, but let’s save that for the end.

The Words

In this month’s IF, the big Heinlein serial draws to a close and a brand-new serial begins. As does a new non-fiction series on fandom. Plus a new Saberhagen story. It’s a lot to whet a reader’s appetite, even if the cover is a bit mediocre. But that’s where our art mystery begins.


Roan’s first day on the job isn’t turning out well. Art attributed to Morrow

Earthblood, by Keith Laumer and Rosel George Brown

Millennia before our story starts, humanity went to the stars and found all other intelligent species still planet-bound. They formed a vast interstellar empire and ruled half the galaxy until the Niss came, shattered the human empire and ultimately blockaded humanity on Earth. Now the only humans at large in the galaxy are at the bottom of the socio-economic scale and most are heavily adapted to the planets they live on, with very few resembling the original terrestrial strain.

As the story opens, Raff Cornay, a human, and his wife Bella, a Yill, have come to Tambool to purchase an embryo to raise as their son. At great sacrifice, they wind up with a pure Terran stock human intended for the personal service of a recently toppled high official. What follows is a series of vignettes as Roan grows up, largely among the avian gracyl. At the age of 16, he tries to sneak into a circus, but is caught. In the ensuing fracas, his father is killed and Roan is dragooned into joining the Grand Vorplisch Extravaganzoo as a roustabout, sideshow attraction and high-wire walker. He meets and is befriended by the beautiful Stellaraire, seemingly a pure Terran human like him, but according to her a throwback and a sterile mule. It turns out the ship is a former Terran battleship. I’m sure that will be important later. At the end of the episode, Roan saves Stellaraire’s life and she asks him to take her back to her tent. To be continued.


Tarzan… er, Roan learns to fly. He’s supposed to be 10. Art attributed to Nodel

I’m very much of two minds about this story. On the one hand, it’s a decent, if slightly pulpy, science fiction Bildungsroman. Beyond the names of some alien species (I recognized both Niss and Soetti) and maybe some of the action, I don’t see a lot of Laumer here. The writing and the plotting feel like they’re mostly from Rosel Brown. In general, that’s a good thing.

On the other hand, Roan gets a lot of stuff about human superiority pounded into him as he’s growing up. It’s uncomfortable language that we hear all too often in real life as an argument against civil rights and equality. It’s certainly possible that Roan will eventually come to see that every species has something to offer galactic society. Unfortunately, most of the aliens seem more like intelligent animals than sentient beings. They rely as much on instinct as they do intellect. Roan’s boss in the circus is confused by his need to practice; either he can do something or he can’t. That seems to be saying that humans really are superior.

Three stars for now.

Castles in Space, by Alma Hill

Aboard the Star Ship Sazerac, King Gurton Redbeard of Sazerac and King Karl of Ship Avlon are meeting over a game of chess, hoping to agree to a protocol which will allow them both to mine the asteroid swarm they are in without fighting over it. They are served by Redbeard’s daughter Kafri, and he offers her to Karl’s son in marriage to form a political alliance. As she wanders the ship late at night, trying to come to terms with her role as a bargaining chip, Kafri discovers that her father’s plan is not as it seems. Now she must make a decision as to which side she will support.

Long-time Boston fan Alma Hill was last seen with her rather disappointing ”Answering Service” in January of last year. This story, however, is quite good. Kafri is no mere political pawn, and this is very much her story. She’s decisive, active and drives the plot. Hill also took the story in a slightly different direction than I thought she was going, based on the ship name Avlon. A very solid three stars.

Our Man in Fandom, by Lin Carter

The first in a series intended, according to the introductory blurb, to teach casual readers “about fandom – what it is – and why”. Both F&SF and Amazing have gone down this road in some form or other in recent years. Here Carter traces one branch of fandom from the letter columns of the 20s and 30s to the fanzines of today. It’s a bit overly breezy and glib at points, but perhaps slightly less superficial than some of its predecessors. Once he gets through with the history and starts talking about current zines like Yandro and Amra, Carter offers a decent read. We’ll see how he does with other contemporary matters. Three stars.

In the Temple of Mars, by Fred Saberhagen

The Nirvana II, the new flagship for High Lord Felipe Nogara, is being brought to him beyond the edge of the galaxy. Aboard it, a prisoner named Jor is being brainwashed by the head of the Esteeler secret police to kill someone. Admiral Hemphill is the acting captain, and there are some other familiar faces. There are plots within plots. One faction hopes to rescue Johann Karlsen from his doomed orbit around a hypermassive star, while another has taken to worshipping the Berserkers, possibly in the hope of being declared goodlife. Everything comes to a head long before the ship reaches its destination.


Jor trains for gladiatorial combat to please the High Lord. And for something else. Art by Gaughan

This is a direct sequel to The Masque of the Red Shift and also features characters from Stone Place. No knowledge of those stories is needed to enjoy this one, but it would give this more weight. Another solid outing in the Berserker saga, with a couple of weaknesses. The extensive quoting from The Knight’s Tale, sometimes in the original Chaucerian English, feels a bit overdone. It was clearly part of Saberhagen’s inspiration and I applaud him not assuming we’ll all remember it from high school, but some cuts would help. And though the story comes to a definite conclusion, there is clearly more to tell. I suspect a fix-up novel in the not too distant future. Three stars.

The Pretend Kind, by E. Clayton McCarty

Little Tommy Wilson says he had a long chat with God in the woods down by the river. Despite efforts by his parents to get him to admit it’s just a story, he sticks to his guns. A neighbor and friend who is also a child psychologist is brought in to delve into this delusion. Things are not as they seem.

A generally forgettable story with an ending that can be seen from miles away. The biggest problem is that nobody actually listens to Tommy (not that it would have changed anything). The parents can be forgiven. They’re worried about their son either clinging tightly to a lie or going off to the woods with a stranger. But a psychologist, child or otherwise, should be listening to what his patient is telling him, and that doesn’t happen. Not good, not bad. A low three stars.

To Conquer Earth, by Garrett Brown

The Glom have arrived on Earth and they expect us to aid them in their galactic war. Landing for some inexplicable reason in Tierra del Fuego, the commander, Captain Crunch, eventually makes his way to President Hubert H. Hubris. Things do not go at all as expected.

Garrett Brown is this month’s first time author. I’d say his biggest influence here is Philip K. Dick, though this is nothing like a Dick story. It’s just the way most of the characters act. The concept isn’t terrible and in the hands of Ron Goulart or Keith Laumer, or better still Robert Scheckley this could have been really good. Alas, it is not. Two stars.

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (Part 5 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

As the last episode ended, Earth forces had landed on the Moon to put down the Lunar rebellion. The fight is intense, but not overly long, since the Earth troops are ill-prepared for low gravity. There are a number of casualties, among them Adam Selene. Mike has decided it’s time for Adam to become a martyr to the cause. Now it’s time for Luna to retaliate with rocks hurled from the cargo catapult. Mike and Prof have established a grid of targets all around the planet, designed to strike uninhabited areas (with the exception of the NORAD base at Cheyenne Mountain). The bombardment goes on for days and Earth strikes back again. In the end, Manny is alone at the secondary catapult, cut off from Mike, Prof and Wyoh. The fate of the revolution is in his hands.


The pressure begins to wear on Manny. Art by Morrow

Oh my, what a finish. I have something to point out here and I’ll be circumspect, but I don’t want to lessen the impact of the ending. If you haven’t finished the story, skip down to the next paragraph. I don’t really think of Heinlein as a writer who evokes a lot of emotion apart from maybe a firm-jawed sense of justice or a manly swell of pride. But here, oh here, I’m not ashamed to admit the ending made me choke up. If only he could have dropped the last two paragraphs.

All right, safe for the uninitiated to read on. The novel shows Heinlein’s strengths and weaknesses to great effect. His ability to make the reader want to keep turning the page is here in full force, but it does get a little talky and some of the ways he presents women are questionable. Nevertheless, I’d say the strengths far outweigh the weaknesses. Plain and simple, this is the best thing Heinlein has written since Double Star, maybe ever. This could be his masterpiece. Five stars for this part and for the novel as a whole.

The Pictures

I promised you a bit of an art mystery. You may have noticed that under the cover and the illustration for Earthblood I said that the art is “attributed to” rather than “by”. Let’s start with the cover, said to be by Gray Morrow. But it really doesn’t look like his work. He favors strong, clear lines, rather than the slightly fuzzy work we see here. Frankly, it looks more like the work of Norman Nodel.

Interestingly, Nodel is given as the artist for the interior illustrations, yet this looks nothing like Nodel’s usual work. Indeed, it looks a bit more like Morrow’s work. It’s tempting to say they just swapped the artist names. But this also doesn’t look like Morrow’s work to me. The lines are there, but it’s sloppy in ways Morrow usually isn’t. The illo I included is supposed to show a ten-year-old boy, not a full-grown man. And look at these two excerpts.


Art attributed to Nodel

These are supposed to be the same character at the same age. That age is supposed to be 16. Ricky Nelson there on the left might be 16, but Superman there on the right is 40 if he’s a day. If it’s not Morrow, then who? The other two artists in Fred Pohl’s main stable are Jack Gaughan and John Giunta, but both their styles are different. Right now, my best guess is Wallace Wood. Hopefully, we’ll find out next month, since the serials are given to a single artist.

Summing Up

All in all, a pretty good issue. There’s only one real stinker and while some of the others aren’t quite as good as they could be, they could also be a lot worse. The Heinlein serial has been the high point since it began and has outshone everything else alongside it. It does again this month, but this time it’s a diamond set in silver, not the tin that has mostly surrounded it.


I fear next month may be something of a downturn.




7 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[February 28, 1966] A Bloody Return To Form (Doctor Who: The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve)

1 Comment


By Jessica Holmes

Welcome back, everyone! We finally, finally get to move on to a new story. Jumping off the back of the behemoth that was The Daleks’ Master Plan, The Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Eve is a breath of fresh air at just 4 episodes long.

It’s also a pure historical (goodness, I’ve missed them), and what’s more it centres on a topic I don’t know much about. It’s time to put Doctor Who’s educational value to the test.

WAR OF GOD

France, 1572. The TARDIS lands in the bustling streets of Paris. The Doctor and Steven don some local garb and head straight for the nearest tavern.

Inside, we meet several of our main characters, making for quite a convenient introduction. We’ve got the level-headed Nicholas and the hot-tempered Gaston, both Huguenots, and we also meet Simon, a Catholic with no great fondness for the bunch. It’s worth noting they’re all fictional. The script wastes little time in establishing their characters. By the time the Doctor and Steven actually get inside, I’ve got a pretty good read of the bunch. With the Huguenots not being too popular in Paris, Simon has little difficulty in convincing the landlord to spy on the Protestants.

Over a cup of wine, the Doctor and Steven make plans for their day in Paris. The Doctor plans to visit a man called Preslin, and in the meantime Steven decides to go sightseeing. Not that there’s much to see. Most of the Paris landmarks we know today haven't been built yet. Still, I suppose there’s Notre Dame.

There probably aren’t any nice little crêpe stands around yet, though.

As the Doctor leaves, he bumps into a stranger who begins to follow him. Steven attempts to go after him, but finds himself waylaid by the classic tourist blunder: not understanding foreign money. Seeing his predicament, Nicholas helpfully covers the tab and invites Steven to join him for a drink with his Huguenot friends.

Across Paris, the Doctor makes it safely to his destination. He finds an old man, an apothecary named Preslin. He is something of a conundrum for me. There is no Preslin as far as I have been able to tell. And yet, apparently this bloke has not only discovered microorganisms, but also found the link between microbes and disease. Setting aside the anachronism of the latter part, I don’t understand why this fictional character is presented as if he were actually a historically significant person. It seems to be made up for no good reason. I think it could make less historically-savvy viewers confused.

Back with Steven, the Huguenots soon meet Anne Chaplet, a runaway servant of the local Abbot, and agree to hide her.

Speaking of the Abbot, the Doctor’s asking Preslin about him right now. The (also fictional) Abbot of Amboise is by Preslin’s account a rather unpleasant character, and quite keen on throwing people into prison for heresy.

Anne tells the group after some coercion from Gaston that she overheard talk of a planned massacre of Huguenots. Unfortunately for her, the Abbot’s men know that she knows, and her life is at risk.

The Huguenots arrange for her to go to the kitchens of the (real) Admiral de Coligny, a prominent Huguenot and friend of the King. However, the landlord is making good on his promise to Simon. He listens intently as the group realise that there might be a plot brewing against Henry of Navarre, the Protestant prince who has just married the Catholic King’s sister. The Huguenots depart, leaving Steven to continue waiting for the Doctor.

The landlord tells Simon about the girl, and the newcomer Englishman, pointing Steven out to him. As Nicholas returns, Simon hides, watching as Nicholas asks the landlord to tell the Doctor, should he show up, that Steven is staying at the Admiral’s abode.

Successful, Simon can now report to his master, the Abbot.

Is it me, or does he look a bit familiar?

THE SEA BEGGAR

The Doctor fails to make an appearance at the tavern the following morning, so Steven returns to his Huguenot friends, who have a visitor: the secretary to the Abbot, Roger Colbert. He’s come to ask about Anne, the servant girl. Gaston lies to cover for her (he may be rather rude, abrasive and outright classist at times, but he does have his good moments), and sends Roger away.

However, Roger didn’t come alone. Out the window, the Huguenots spot none other than the Abbot himself! Steven finds himself in hot water with his new friends when he identifies the Abbot as the Doctor.

Under suspicion that he’s a Catholic spy, Steven takes Nicholas to find the Doctor and prove the uncanny resemblance.

Meanwhile, the Admiral meets with Marshal Tavannes (based on the real Gaspard de Saulx, sieur de Tavannes), and it quickly becomes apparent that they don’t get along well because of their religious differences.

Steven and Nicholas make it to the apothecary, but they find it empty.  A local woman tells them Preslin hasn’t lived there since he was arrested for heresy two years ago.

…Then who was the Doctor talking to?

Upon being confronted by Nicholas, who reasonably believes him to be a liar, Steven makes a run for it. Nicholas returns alone to the other Huguenots, and reports the unhappy news of Steven’s presumed treachery. However, Anne speaks out in Steven’s defence, him having only been the one to treat her with a bit of actual kindness and respect.

Refraining from referring to the working class as ‘nothings’ will do wonders for your interpersonal relations, Gaston.

Steven goes to the Abbot’s apartment, where he overhears the Marshal, Simon and Roger plotting the assassination of the ‘Sea Beggar’. Simon assumes the order comes from none other than the Queen Mother, Catherine de' Medici.

Steven hurries back to the Huguenots to warn them, narrowly avoiding the wrong end of Gaston’s sword. Operating more on testosterone than common sense, Gaston kicks Steven out, for which Nicholas scolds him. Sure, not stabbing the bloke was a nice gesture, but it might have been useful to actually try listening to what he had to say.

Anne joins Steven as he leaves, and the two decide to hide at the abandoned apothecary.

Back at the house, the Admiral arrives home. While all this has been going on, there’s been a bit of a subplot about allying with the Dutch against Spain. He thinks he may have got the King to agree to the war. However, the monarch warned him that if he goes ahead, the Admiral will go down in history as the ‘Sea Beggar’.

A weird nickname will soon be the least of his problems.

PRIEST OF DEATH

Though the war with Spain subplot does not enormously interest me, I have to tell you about it for context reasons, and also so I can make fun of characters for having silly ideas.

See, the Admiral seems to think that allying with the Dutch rebels against Spain will be just the thing to unite the country and quell the brewing civil unrest. He, a Protestant, wants to lead a majority-Catholic country into war against another strongly Catholic country. In aid of a bunch of staunch Protestants. Yes, that definitely sounds like it’ll be a really popular war.

The King’s got a worse attention span than me, though. He gets tired of the conversation and insists on changing the subject.

Steven tries to get Anne to come with him to the Abbot’s apartment. Come on, Anne, go with the nice handsome stranger. Though I wonder: how does Steven speak French? English schools are rubbish at teaching foreign languages.

The Admiral and the Marshal are on the brink of coming to blows over their religious differences (something I genuinely don’t understand and this serial doesn’t seem interested in really exploring) when the King finally sees fit to do a little bit of ruling and tells them to sit down and shut up.

Or something to that effect, anyway.

To which the Admiral responds by insulting his mother. The King likes that. She won’t bother him for the rest of the day now, so they can go and play tennis.

Sometimes I wonder how the concept of hereditary rule lasted as long as it did.

Steven finds the Abbot, and to buy some time with him he says he’s come to return Anne. He could have warned Anne first, but it does get the Abbot’s attention, and he tells the pair to wait for him while he has a meeting. Steven overhears everything, learning the location of the Admiral’s planned assassination. Before he can learn more, however, Roger spots him and informs the Abbot that Steven is the Englishman he’s been telling him about.

Steven runs back to the Huguenots to warn them, and Nicholas gets to the Admiral in the nick of time to watch him get shot. Well, it’s the thought that counts. At least he’s not dead.

Learning that the attempt has failed, the Marshal suspects that the Abbot is a traitor to the Queen.

The King isn’t happy to learn of the Admiral’s injury, though he might be more upset at having his game of tennis interrupted. It’s hard to tell from the temper tantrum.

The Admiral returns home, and Steven finally gets the chance to tell the Huguenots everything he’s learned, but he’s still convinced that the Abbot is the Doctor. Well, if that’s the case then he’s certainly very dedicated.

And also very dead.

We’d better hope that the Abbot and our Doctor are two different people, or we’ll need a new name for the programme.

What’s more, the death is being blamed on the Huguenots, stoking the tensions in the city even further. His Royal Foolishness puts the Marshal in charge of ensuring the Admiral’s safety. It comes to him as news when dear old Mumsie comes in to tell him that the Marshal was in on the plot, and so was she. Well, that’s monarchy for you. Kill your enemies before they get the chance to do the same to you.

In the streets, tensions continue to rise. The crowd are looking for someone to blame for the death of the Abbot. Steven arrives at the scene of the Abbot’s murder to find what looks like his friend (and only ride out of here) lying dead on the floor. He doesn’t have time to mourn, as the crowd turns on him when Simon spots him and points the finger. All Steven can do is run for his life.

BELL OF DOOM

Though delayed by the curfew, Steven eventually makes it back to Anne, who is very relieved to see him alive and in one piece. Together they comb over the apothecary’s shop, trying to discover where the Doctor stashed his clothes. If he can’t find the TARDIS key, Steven’s going to be stuck here. Paris doesn’t seem like a great place to live right now. Quite apart from all the religious unrest and lack of indoor plumbing, you can’t even buy a croque monsieur yet. I mean, what’s the point?

Anyway, he’d better hurry up, because the Marshal and Simon are planning to find and kill him. It’s just one thing after another for the poor bloke.

Anne finds the Doctor’s stick, but no sign of his clothes. Where could they be? Well, the obvious place.

They’re on the Doctor’s body.

The Doctor finally turns up, having been… where, exactly? On holiday? He’s not forthcoming with any answers.

Meanwhile, Gaston begins to worry about the obvious danger of the Admiral being guarded by a bunch of religious enemies. He advises that the Admiral should leave Paris, but the others refuse to consider it. To be fair the Admiral doesn’t look in any shape to travel, but I’m with Gaston on this one.

Alas, history is already written.

Upon learning that tomorrow is St. Bartholomew’s Day, the Doctor urges Steven that they mustn’t delay in returning to the TARDIS. Sending Anne off to her aunt’s house (against both Anne and Steven’s wishes), the Doctor practically drags Steven by the ear back to the ship with a hasty farewell.

He has good cause to hurry. Across the city, the Queen Mother meets with the Marshal, bearing an order signed by the King himself. The plans for tomorrow will go ahead. She tells the Marshal to disregard his list of targets. Once the killing starts, the good people of Paris will take care of things. They know who their enemies are, which is to say anyone not Catholic.

The Marshal isn’t keen on killing random innocent Protestants as well as their leaders.  It's not as if he actually does anything about it, so I can’t give him credit. He does however urge against killing Henry of Navarre for fear of provoking an all-out holy war, and the Queen Mother listens to him.

The Doctor and Steven leave Paris as the city plunges into chaos. As they leave the Doctor gives Steven a history lesson. The bloodshed spread from city to city, leaving as many as ten thousand dead in the city of Paris alone. Horrified to realise that all the Huguenot friends he made will be dead in a matter of hours, Steven’s furious with the Doctor for leaving Anne behind in the midst of all this. So furious, in fact, that he announces he’s leaving him behind wherever they next land.

The Doctor does seem to understand why this would be a deal-breaker for Steven, but he does give quite an interesting argument for his defence.

“…history sometimes gives us a terrible shock. That is because we don't quite fully understand. Why should we? After all, we're all too small to realise its final pattern. Therefore, don't try and judge it from where you stand…”

The part I find of particular interest is the Doctor’s comment on being too small to realise history’s final pattern. I find myself reminded of Ray Bradbury’s short story A Sound Of Thunder. In that story, a time-travelling tourist inadvertently causes disaster when he steps on a prehistoric butterfly, changing the entire course of Earth’s history.

Who is to say that removing Anne from her time and place wouldn’t do irreparable damage to the established course of events? I see the Doctor’s point, and his argument for non-interference.

Then again, he did take Katarina from ancient Troy, and who knows what that might have done to history? On the other hand, she did end up saving his life, sacrificing her life in the process. Perhaps that was history’s way of correcting itself. After all, she should have been long-dead by that point.

The TARDIS lands on present-day Wimbledon Common (that’s convenient!) and Steven leaves, the Doctor finding himself alone to reminisce about his companions and shatter my heart into a million tiny pieces.

“Now… they're all gone. All gone. None of them…could understand. Not even…my little Susan…or Vicki …and yes … Barbara and Chatterton… Chesterton! They were all too impatient to get back to their own time. And now… Steven. Perhaps I should go home, back to my own planet. But I can't. I can't.”

He still gets Ian’s name wrong, and something about that tugs at the heartstrings. I wonder why he can’t go home? For a few moments, the facade of the brilliant eccentric scientist falls away. We see what I think has been at the heart of the Doctor’s character for a long time, perhaps ever since Susan left: a lonely, homesick old man.

I want to give him a hug so badly.

Lest we get too sad, it’s at that moment a newcomer bursts into the TARDIS, mistaking it for a telephone box. Taken aback, the Doctor tells her that it most assuredly is not.

Steven comes running back a moment later (gee, that lasted a long time!) to tell the Doctor that a couple of coppers are coming towards the TARDIS. They'd all better get going.

The Doctor takes off in a hurry, seemingly forgetting about his guest. Then again, forgetting might have nothing to do with it. He seems more than happy to have acquired a new companion.

The woman doesn’t seem to mind being roped in to an unexpected adventure.  I suppose she forgot about the road accident she was trying to report in the first place.

The Doctor notes that this new friend, one Dorothea Chaplet (Dodo for short…and yes, I will be making fun of that) bears quite a resemblance to Susan.

Granted, I can see the resemblance, but I think the Doctor might have some issues.

Realising that Dodo has the same surname as Anne, the Doctor and Steven wonder if Dodo might in fact be her descendant. Apparently her grandfather actually was French. Well, it’s certainly possible, but I hardly think Anne was the only Chaplet in France. Plus, unless she was already married (of which there was no mention), wouldn’t any of her future children have taken her husband’s name?

The more you think about it, the less likely it gets. Nevertheless, I suppose it does relate back to the Doctor’s point about the pattern of history being impossible to see from inside events. Perhaps if they had taken Anne, Dodo might never have been born. It’s impossible to say.

Final Thoughts

The most important thing for you to know about this serial is that it’s thoroughly enjoyable. The pacing is excellent, the characterisation strong and the plot intriguing. This has been my favourite serial for quite a long time. I found myself quite impressed with Purves and Hartnell’s performances in their confrontation at the end.

Other than the bit with Preslin, the plot doesn’t contradict recorded history, and events play out as they should. I must note that it is not entirely agreed upon as to who orchestrated the massacre. However it is quite commonly attributed to Catherine de Medici, so I think that’s a reasonable stance to take for this story. There’s not really any deep exploration of the religious differences at the heart of the conflict. To be honest I’d be at a loss to tell you why the Catholics and Protestants hated each other so much. That might be a theological topic a bit too deep and nuanced to satisfactorily cover in a children’s television serial. I think the general point is that there is no point to this sort of violence.

I would have liked an actual explanation for the Doctor’s absence, as the lack of explanation makes it more glaring. Did he get to talk to the Abbot? Why does the Abbot look so much like him, is it just a bizarre coincidence? Was the man truly Preslin after all? After all, he seemed to want to help.

Looking back, it is quite a glaring flaw in the plot. As I understand it this serial was subject to some heavy rewrites, and this is where it really shows.

There is also a bit of mood whiplash at the end of the story. We go from a city gripped by religious violence to the bitter parting of Steven and the Doctor, the sadness of the Doctor alone, and then quite abruptly the comedic arrival of Dodo.

It’s a bit of a tacked-on companion introduction, and does undermine the power of the previous scene. Still, it’s only a small flaw when you step back and take a look at the whole thing. I am prepared to forgive it.

Also, it’s also a bit cheap to give Steven what feels like a proper exit and then bring him back about two minutes later. I’m in a pickle. On the one hand, Steven returning makes the previous scene seem pointless. On the other, I really like Steven and don’t want to get rid of him yet.

From a writing standpoint I have to disapprove, but from a fan standpoint I’m just glad to get more Steven.

The Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Eve comes as a welcome return to form for Doctor Who, and this viewer is eager to see what the next adventure will be.

4 out of 5 stars




1 Comment Leave A Comment
Magazine

[February 26, 1966] Such promise (March 1966 Analog)

5 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Tuckered out

Imagine training your whole life to run in the Olympics.  Imagine making it and competing in the quadrennial event, representing your nation before the entire world.  Imagine making perfect strides, outdistancing your competitors, sailing far out in front…and then stumbling.

Defeat at the moment of victory.


Ron Clarke of Australia, favored to win 1964's 10,000 meter race, is blown past at the last minute by American Billy Mills (and aced by Tunisia's Mohammed Gammoudi )

Every month, as a science fiction magazine reviewer, I am treated to a similar drama.  Usually, the law of averages dictates that no month will be particularly better or worse than any other.  But occasionally, there is a mirabilis month, or perhaps things are really getting better across the entire genre.  Either way, as magazine after magazine got their review, it became clear that March 1966 was going to be a very good month.  Not a single magazine was without at least one 4 or 5 star story — even the normally staid Science Fantasy turned in a stellar performance under the new name, Impulse.

It all came down to this month's Analog.  If it were superb, as it was last month, then we'd have a clean sweep across eight periodicals.  If it flopped, as it often does, the streak would be broken.

As it turns out, neither eventuality quite came to pass.  Indeed, the March 1966 Analog is sort of a microcosm of the month itself — starting out with a bang and faltering before the finish.

Frontloaded


by John Schoenherr

Bookworm, Run!, by Vernor Vinge


by John Schoenherr

Norman Simmonds is on the lam.  Brilliant, resourceful, and inspired by his pulp and SF heroes, he breaks out of a top security research facility in Michigan, his mind full of inadvertently espied government secrets.  His goal is to make the Canadian border before he can be punished for his accidental indiscretion. Thus ensues an exciting cat and mouse chase toward the border.

Did I mention that Norman is a chimpanzee?

With the aid of surgery and a link to the nation's most sophisticated computer, Norman is not only smarter than the average human, he has all of the world's facts at his beck and call.  His only limitation (aside from standing out in a crowd) is that he can only get so far from his master mainframe before the link is strained to breaking.  The pivotal question, then, is whether Canada lies inside or beyond that range.

Bookworm is a compelling story whose main fault comes (in keeping with this month's trend) near the end, when we leave Norman's viewpoint and instead are treated to a few pages' moralizing about why such technology must never be allowed to be used by humanity lest one person gain virtual godhood.  I have to wonder if that coda was always in the tale or if it was added by Campbell at the last minute to make less subtle the themes of the story.

Anyway, four stars for Vinge's first American sale (and second overall).  I look forward to what he has to offer next.

The Ship Who Mourned, by Anne McCaffrey


by Kelly Freas

Speaking of intelligence in unusual forms, The Ship Who Mourned is the sequel to the quite good The Ship Who Sang, starring a woman raised nearly from birth as a brain with a shapeship body.  In that first story, her companion/passenger/driver, Jennan, died, leaving Helva-the-ship distraught.

But with no time to grieve.  Her next assignment comes almost immediately: take Theoda, a doctor, to a faraway world so that she might treat the aftereffects of a plague that has left thousands completely immobile, trapped in their nonresponsive bodies.  Though Helva is initially frosty toward Theoda, they bond over their own griefs, and together, they manage to bring hope to the plague-blasted planet.

This is a good story.  I'm surprised to see it in Analog in part because the series got its start in F&SF, and also because the mag has been something of a stag party for a long long time (even more than its woman-scarce colleagues).  Despite enjoying it a lot, there is a touch of the amateur about it, a certain clunkiness of execution.  McCaffrey may simply be out of practice; it has been five years since her last story, after all.

Nevertheless, I suspect that the cobwebs will come right off if she can get back to writing consistently again.  A high three stars.

Giant Meteor Impact, by J.  E.  Enever

Asteroid impact seems all the rage this month.  Asimov was talking about it in his F&SF column, and Heinlein may soon be talking about it in If.  Enever describes in lurid detail the damage the Earth would suffer from an astroid a "meer" kilometer in width — and why an ocean impact is far, far scarier than one on land.

The author presents the topic with gusto, but a little too much length.  It wavers between fascinating and meandering.  Had we gotten some of the juicy bits included in Asimov's article, that would have made for a stellar (pun intended) piece.

As is, three stars.

Operation Malacca, by Joe Poyer


by Leo Summers

And it is here, at the two thirds mark, that we stumble.

Last we heard from Joe Poyer, he was offering up the turgid technical thriller, Mission "Red Clash".  This time, the premise is a little better: Indonesia has planted a 5 megaton bomb borrowed from the Red Chinese in the Straits of Malacca.  If detonated, it will wipe out the British fleet and pave the way for a takeover of Malaysia, Singapore, and the Philippines.  Only a washed out cetecean handler and his dolphin companion can save the day. 

Sounds like a high stakes episode of Flipper, doesn't it?

Well, unfortunately, the first ten pages are all a lot of talking, the dolphin-centric middle is utterly characterless, merely a series of events, and then the dolphin is out of the picture the last dull third of the story.

Unlike McCaffrey, my predictions for Joe's writing career are rather pessimistic.  But we'll see…

Two stars.

10:01 A.M., by Alexander Malec


by John Schoenherr

At 10:01 A.M., a couple of joyriding punks cause the hit and run murder of a little girl.  Within the space of an hour, they are swallowed by a floating "fetcher" car, hauled before a detective, thence to a judge, and capital sentence is rendered.

Malec writes as if he was taking a break from technical writing and could not shift gears into fiction writing. Compound that with a lurid presentation that betrays an almost pornographic obsession with the subject matter (both the technological details and the grinding of the gears of justice), and it makes for an unpleasant experience.

Two stars.

Prototaph, by Keith Laumer

And lastly, a vignette which is essentially one-page joke story told in three.  Who is the one man who is uninsurable?  The one whose death is guaranteed.

Except they never explain why his death is guaranteed.

Dumb.  One star.

Tallying the scores

And so Analog limps across the finish line with a rather dismal 2.6 rating.  Indeed, it is the second worst magazine of the month (although that's partly because most everything else was excellent). To wit:

Ah well.  At the very least, Campbell took some chances with this issue, which I appreciate.  And the first two thirds are good.  There was just a lot riding on the mag this month.  The perils of getting one's hopes up!

As for the statistics, I count 8.5% of this month's new stories as written by women, which is high for recent days.  If you took all of the four and five star stories from this month, you could easily fill three magazines, which is excellent.

Always focus on the positive, right?

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well!  If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article!  Thank you for your continued support.

5 Comments Leave A Comment
Comics

[February 24, 1966] Is 1966 the Best Year Ever for American Comic Books?

2 Comments


by Jason Sacks

Is 1966 the best year ever for comic books? Yeah… maybe!

Based on the articles I’ve been seeing in newspapers, magazines and fanzines, Batman appears to be the runaway hit tv program of 1966. After 12 episodes, this show has exceeded expectations for fans and non-fans alike. Who would have expected Batman to be so true to the comics, with appearances by the Joker, Mr. Freeze, the Mad Hatter and even an obscure character like the Riddler (who hadn’t appeared in any comics between 1948 and 1965!).

The show has been a delight, and has prompted this house to buy a brand new color TV to enjoy it in its full splendor (well, that, and we had to see the exotic locations in Man from U.N.C.L.E. in color, too). And gosh, what a tremendous show this is for its bright and shiny design elements. The costumes of Batman, the Joker and Robin all look spectacular on our new Admiral set!

I know there has been some grousing about how the show mocks the Caped Crusader and his faithful pal, but I frankly love it. Maybe I’ve been desperate for a superhero TV show since Superman left the air a decade ago, but I dig the clever ways the show’s producers incorporate comic book elements into every scene of the show. The “BIFF! BANG! POW” elements during fight scenes may annoy some viewers who want more seriousness in their superheroes, but to me these are like comic book panels writ large on my 25” screen, thrilling reminders of their roots while also giving TV viewers a clever motif to groove on. Others complain that the characters seem self-mocking, calling it “camp” (a phrase I’ve never heard in this context before), but I wonder if those complainers read the Batman comics I wrote about last year. Until very recently, Batman was a moribund character fated for cancelation, so I’m delighted to see him get any attention at all.

And I groove on the deathtraps these characters find themselves in every Wednesday prior to the Thursday conclusions. Ma Bell likes it too, I think, because my friends and I call each other every week to try to figure out how our heroes can escape from the amazing perils the villains place them in.

I’m starting to see a rise in the interest in super-heroes at my local newsstand, perhaps prompted by the success of the TV show. It also helps that so many of the comics being released today are absolutely great. Not only are Marvel and National releasing lines of comics that are more intriguing than they have ever been, but new and revived publishers are putting out some comics that are outstanding (and some that are less than great, but hey, that’s just the law of averages at play, I think).

A lot of the thrill these days has been at Marvel, as some of their comics are reaching unparalleled new levels of excellence. For instance, the work of Steve Ditko and Stan Lee on both Amazing Spider-Man and the “Dr. Strange” strip in Strange Tales has been outstanding. Peter Parker has graduated high school and enrolled at Empire State University in Spider-Man. Pete seems to be shedding his nature as a nebbish since he joined college, making new friends while having new (and more sophisticated) problems. The three-part “Master Planner” saga which ended in ASM #33 was a storyline nonpareil, a thrill a minute journey with a spectacular denouement. (I’m including the payoff below, but please try to find all these issues if you can, because the leadup is just as spectacular).

Ditko and Lee’s “Doctor Strange” is in the midst of an astonishing long saga which journeys to strange, mystical realms to bring readers scenes we’ve never seen before. This lone hero fights impossible obstacles, issue by painful issue, to save a humanity who have no idea of his heroics. These two Ditko-illustrated comics are breathtaking – and, as I’ll soon discuss, this prolific artist is working on more than two comics lately.

Those two series are two of the three best comics being released in 1966, but the third greatest comic of our year has to be Fantastic Four. Stan Lee and the incomparable Jack Kirby (King of the Comics) are delivering the most astonishing thrill-ride in comics history. Reed Richards married Sue Storm in the 1965 FF Annual, but the couple's life has been no honeymoon since their big event, as they’ve fought an incredible “Battle for the Baxter Building”, before meeting and fighting the astonishing Inhumans. But this month has produced perhaps the finest comic Marvel has ever printed. In this month’s FF #50, the heroes found themselves in conflict with the mysterious cosmic villain Galactus, who wants to eat the Earth simply to stay alive. Readers are swept away with the desperation of our heroes and their valiant battle to save our planet, a story only Jack Kirby could have drawn. It also features the character I believe will be the breakout hero of 1966, the star-spanning Silver Surfer.

Marvel’s also producing some other great comics. Thor has moved out of the old Journey Into Mystery anthology into his own comics title, and Lee and Kirby are delivering a godlike battle there which shakes the cosmos. In X-Men, Lee and artist Jay Gavin keep playing and have delivered an intriguing new hero-villain called the Mimic. Lee and new artist John Romita have been doing terrific work on Daredevil (Romita might be a good substitute for Ditko if the latter ever has to take a month off; it’s hard to imagine Ditko leaving the character permanently). And comics like Avengers, Sgt. Fury, Two-Gun Kid and Tales to Astonish are continuing to deliver satisfying action stories, with the shattered romance tale "Killed in Action" in Fury #18 a real standout.

At National, which some people call DC, the line has adopted a new set of “go-go checks” at the top of their covers. Besides being hep and fun, these checks also help the comics stand out at my local drug store rack – a smart decision if you ask me.

Inside their comics, National continues their solid comics storytelling. Editor Julius Schwartz’s line is consistently entertaining. The Atom, Batman, Detective Comics, Hawkman and Green Lantern are all standouts for both story and art. Meanwhile, action heroes like the Metal Men, the Challengers of the Unknown and the Sea Devils all continue to deliver fun excitement, and Doom Patrol is always an irreverent treat. New series Teen Titans promises to be fun, and what teen or pre-teen wouldn't groove to the tales of sidekicks joined together?

I was disappointed to see Adam Strange, Space Ranger and Rip Hunter… Time Master lose their ongoing strips, though I'm anxious to see what replaces them.  And though Wonder Woman seems to continue to wander in its own mediocre wilderness (now set in the passé 1940s), the National line seems to be consistently entertaining each month. Of course, it’s hard to project how the massive success of Batman on TV will affect the comics, but one hopes the publisher won’t adopt those “camp” elements fans are so mixed about.

But some of the most exciting news in comics is happening outside of these two dominant publishers.

Gold Key Comics, primarily known for their comics featuring adaptations of TV series as diverse as Top Cat, Flipper and My Favorite Martian as well as their Disney line, is continuing their adventure comics line and even expanding the line. In fact, Super Goof set Mickey's pal Goofy as a super-hero in a delightful series of adventures as Super Goof!

Gold Key is the former sister publisher to Dell Comics, and it can often be hard to tell the two companies apart from each other despite their differences in editioral staffs. Their line also mainly consists of adapted titles like The Beverly Hillbillies and The Outer Limits along with a handful of original titles like Ghost Stories and Air War Stories. That line included a few new originals, including the gross-out Melvin Monster (which seems to be done by the same staff who deliver the delightful Thirteen Going on Thirty series) and the super-hero Nukla. I was also surprised to see a Black cowboy comic on the stands from Dell. Lobo is the stor of a buffalo soldier accused of a crime he didn't commit, and the first issue is pretty terrific! This may be the first comic featuring a solo Black character in his own title in many years (I believe there were a couple published by small companies in the 1940s), which is a nice sign of progress for the Great Society.

For many years, Charlton Comics have been considered at the bottom of the barrel, with their comics consistently delivering hackneyed and dull stories. Making things worse, Charltons seem like they’re printed on a cereal box press, with a strange paper texture, jagged edges on some of their pages, and even an odd smell to some of their comics.

Thankfully, though their printing quality doesn’t seem to be improving, Charlton’s comics are indeed improving. New series Peter Cannon… Thunderbolt launched early this year and has been fun. With art (and story?) by the mysterious PAM, these stories combine a surprising Eastern influence with New York gangsters. This is a series to watch.

Even more exciting is Captain Atom. You may remember the good Captain as an early sci-fi superhero from 1959 and 1960. Forget what you read before. The great Steve Ditko is now drawing Captain Atom’s adventures, and, let me tell you, they are as good as the stories Ditko is drawing at Marvel. Ditko’s Captain Atom is dynamic, fun and gorgeously illustrated. You’ll get bragging rights among your friends for recommending these comics to them.

I wish I could recommend Archie Comics’ line of superheroes to you, but they are painful to read. For many years now Archie has been publishing The Fly, but now the character has been renamed Fly Man in his own series (maybe to confuse Spider-Man fans?) and is also part of a new super-team called The Mighty Crusaders. That new team comic might be the worst comic of 1966, even worse than Wonder Woman.

The Archie heroes are written and drawn in a painful pastiche of the Marvel style, with “hip” dialogue and “fun” captions that read like a grandfather desperately trying to connect with his goatee-wearing grandkids. These comics aren’t just groan-inducing, they’re downright painful. Ignore them.

On a happier note, new publisher Tower Comics has been a very pleasant surprise. Their flagship title is THUNDER Agents, a fun mix of super-heroes and spy agencies that sets super-heroes No-Man, Dynamo, Menthor and Lightning against the evil Warlord.

So far, each issue has been double-sized, which means it’s packed with great and dynamic stories. Best of all, it includes illustrations from some of my beloved masters of comic book art, including Wally Wood, Reed Crandall,  Gil Kane, George Tuska, Mike Sekowsky and others. These have been terrific comics, well worth seeking out. According to the fanzines, Tower has been doing well and should be available most everywhere, but if not, remind your local newsstand owner that he should make higher profits at 25¢ retail per issue.

Superheroes continue at American Comics Group as well. ACG comics always seem to range from “ok” to “weird as can be.” In the former category are Nemesis in Adventures into the Unknown and Magicman in Forbidden Worlds. Both those series read like mediocre Marvel or National comics, which is just fine.

But if you’re not picking up an occasional issue of Herbie, you’re missing one of the strangest, most inexplicable comics on the stands today. Just look at that cover above if you don’t believe me. I don’t even want to try to describe this unprecedented series to you because it’s just so surreal and delightful. I laugh more at this comic than I ever will at a year's worth of Archie hero comics. I promise you that Herbie and his lollipop will burrow into your brain.

The most unexpected premier of the last year has been the appearance of Captain Marvel on the newsstands, but it's not the Captain Marvel you'd think of. Newcomer publisher M.F. Publications has launched the adventures of a completely new Captain Marvel. Instead of shouting "Shazam", this Cap screams "split" and splits off his hands, legs and head so he can fight multiple criminals at the same time. Yes, it's all as odd as it sounds, made even odder by the fact that apparently the series is written and drawn by Carl Burgos, the man who created the original Human Torch back in the early 1940s!

The last stop in our journey through comics in 1966 takes us to the magazine rack. On the cheaper area of some racks we might find magazine-sized comics from M.F., including their wretched seridss Weird.  The less said about the terrible stories and art in Weird the better. Thankfully next to Weird,where we will find Warren Magazines. You might remember Warren from my article about the late, lamented Help! Magazine, which sadly recently saw its final issue on the newsstand. Thankfully publisher James Warren has filled that gap with two great horror comics and an even better war comic.

Warren started publishing horror anthology Creepy in late 1964, and that mag has built a deserved reputation as one of the finest horror comics ever published, a worthy successor to the classic EC Comics. In fact, that comparison is appropriate because Creepy and its new sister title Eerie have published great horror tales drawn by the likes of Al Williamson, John Severin, Reed Crandall and Johnny Craig – EC legends all. Even more thrilling, those brilliant artists have been joined by modern counterparts like Gene Colan, the astonishing Alex Toth and, yes, the brilliant Steve Ditko. I told you Ditko gets around! With brilliant writing by the always adept Archie Goodwin, these comics are a tremendous treat.

I’m also a huge fan of Warren’s war comic Blazing Combat. Also written by Goodwin, the three issues thus far include brilliant artwork accompanying piercing and terrifying war tales that tell the gritty truth of war as it really is. They are the second best war comics ever published, behind only the truly great war comics written and edited by Harvey Kurtzman at EC. I’m sure BC doesn’t sell well, so I beg all comics readers to pick up this magazine while they still can. It costs three times as much as a standard comic, at 35¢ per issue, so I understand peoples' reluctance at picking up issues of this amazing series.

Whew! You can see why I say comics may never have been better than they are today. Truly, any trip to the comics rack will bring you some delightful treasures no matter what sorts of comics you like.

One final note: here in my native Brooklyn, there seemed to be some strange event over Mt. Sinai Hospital today. We saw some storks on the roof of the hospital. Anybody with any information on the events at the hospital that day, please contact this magazine.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[February 22, 1966] A New Age? Impulse and New Worlds, March 1966

17 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

This is a particularly exciting time with the British magazines this month. After the announcement of the end of Science Fantasy in the February issue, we now have Impulse, “The NEW Science Fantasy”, as it says on the cover, and a bigger, bolder, thicker New Worlds – albeit with a shilling rise in the price of each.

Do I get extra value for my extra two shillings a month? I’m looking forward to finding out.

Well, the cover of the new Impulse is interesting. There’s nothing like selling yourself with a roster of names on the cover – and the list is impressive, admittedly. The cover artwork is reasonable too. Gone are the Keith Roberts covers (more about him in a moment) to be replaced with a rather unusual cover by “Judith Ann Lawrence”, though we may also know her as Mrs. James Blish.

As Kyril points out in his as entertaining as ever Editorial, there is even a theme to the issue, that of “Sacrifice”. Sounds intriguing.

To this month’s actual stories.

The Circulation of the Blood, by Brian W. Aldiss

We start this issue with the return of one of the current and most vocal exponents of the New Wave, Brian Aldiss.  Clem Burke is an oceanologist who has returned to his tropical idyll to meet his wife and son after spending six months investigating ocean currents. We discover over the course of the story that he and his team have discovered a new virus carried by microscopic copepod that seems to imbue immortality upon the creatures who ingest it.

This is typical Aldiss, in that the story that at first reads as if it is a travelogue of tropical islands. It could almost be published in any magazine. However this is Aldiss, and what the author then does is reveal a science-fictional element gradually, by which time of course the reader is hooked. What we end up with is a world on the edge of major irretrievable evolutionary change from which there is no going back.

Brian would hate me for saying this, as he’s not a fan of the author’s writing, but to me this one felt like it had a touch of the John Wyndham “global catastrophes" about it, although it leaves the reader wondering “What happens next?” at the end. It is about what would be the consequences of what will happen when this secret discovery is revealed to the world, and the effects afterwards, on society, on relationships and on the world’s ecology. A good start. 4 out of 5.

High Treason, by Poul Anderson

From a story that’s rather British in tone to a stridently American tale. Edward Breckenridge is a space pilot currently imprisoned and on trial for treason. The reason is that he was the commander of an attack force given the job in a last ditch effort of wiping out the enemy’s home planet, but who took an alternative decision, sacrificing his own family and career to do so.

I have always thought of Poul as a right-wing writer, and consequently this story is something I didn’t expect. To begin with it reads like a typical sf Space Opera tale from the States, with its roots in Doc Smith’s Lensmen, all about honour and loyalty, but then takes a left turn into the unexpected.

It shows us that when difficult choices have to be made, the answer is far from simple and leaves us with the moral dilemma – would you, faced with a relatively benign enemy, make the same decision?

Whilst the tone of the story is what I would expect in the American magazines, this one is a tale that I don’t think you’d find in Analog. Surprising. 4 out of 5.

You and Me and the Continuum, by J.G. Ballard

And then from a story that appears at first to be traditional to one that is most definitely not. If Aldiss is often seen as “the voice” of New Wave, then here is perhaps the group’s leading exponent, making a welcome return to the British mags.

Ballard has set himself quite a challenge here, as the banner suggests: “The theme of sacrifice led me to think of the Messiah, or more exactly, the second coming and how this might happen in the twentieth century.”

Written in that typically fractured, disjointed manner, the disparate pieces together make up a story which doesn’t quite reach its lofty ideals yet must be admired for its ambition. Deliberately provocative, ambitiously subversive, the story is filled with phrases that remain in the memory after the story has been read. One where the parts may be greater than the sum of the whole. 4 out of 5.

A Hero’s Life, by James Blish

The banner on this one tells me that for the first time this is the first original piece published in Britain from this American author (admittedly living in Britain). I’m sure that you will know him for his Cities in Flight series of stories if nothing else,  although I know him more for his literary criticism as much as his fiction writing.

It is a strange story about a poisoner on a Romanesque planet where being a traitor is a valuable trade. As a traitor Simon de Kuyl is given untouchable status, but he is about to have his twelve days of grace expire. The story is about how he manages to use his wits to survive, finding himself playing a complex game with the planet’s leaders. Lyrical, a bit grim, one that seems to combine Samuel Delany’s style of grimy underworld writing and when de Kuyl is tortured produces stream of consciousness gibberish with more than a touch of the lyrical Jack Vance. It’s ambitious, but feels a little like it’s trying too hard. 3 out of 5.

The Gods Themselves Throw Incense, by Harry Harrison

Friend and colleague of Mr. Aldiss, here’s another name that seems to be forever in the British magazines at the moment. This time Harry is into Space Opera mode, but not the farce of Bill, the Galactic Hero (thank goodness!), but instead a darker, more visceral story.

The explosion of the spaceship Yuri Gagarin leads to a motley trio of survivors in an emergency capsule. With oxygen running out and rescue unlikely for at least a few weeks, the story is how they survive – which means that one of them needs to make the ultimate sacrifice in order for the others to live. A story which examines what could really happen when people are put under significant life-changing stress. Like Poul Anderson's story this month, this is not a story of honour or glory, nor is it particularly pleasant, but it is memorable. 3 out of 5.

Deserter, by Richard Wilson

Continuing the theme of sacrifice, Richard’s story tells of William Leslie, a soldier who with an impending war coming, marries Betty. The couple are immediately separated, because – wait for it! – it’s a war of the sexes! Bill deserts to meet Betty, and does so, but is then arrested and sent for a court-marshal. It all seems a little silly. Not the best story in the issue. 2 out of 5.

The Secret, by Jack Vance

Having mentioned the lyrical American Hugo-winning author already, here he is, with a coming-of-age story. Rona ta Inga lives in idyllic tropical paradise with food, shelter and all the company he could want. However, one day as the oldest of the group, he, like many of his friends and predecessors before him, feels the urge to sail away to the West, where he discovers "the secret" and his innocent child-like life is changed. It’s a one-trick tale, but well done. Precise wordage mingles with metaphor. 3 out of 5.

Pavane, by Keith Roberts

This is the first of what I believe will be many stories spread over the next few months, and something a little different from Mr. Roberts, who in this same issue we are told has taken on the responsibility of assistant editor.

Pavane is an alternate history where Elizabeth I was assassinated in 1588. As a result, Protestantism has not taken hold in England and Roman Catholicism still dominates the world. With the Roman Catholic view of science being one of suspicion, and innovation supressed, inventions have not as developed as they have been here today. Although it is still the 1960’s, here we have Keith’s descriptions of this strange new-yet-old world which runs a feudal system and where communication is not through telegraph or radio (electricity not invented) but by flags.

The story is focussed upon the duties of Rafe Bigland, a signaller whose job is to pass semaphore flag messages down the line to the next semaphore station in a distinctly more rural England. It shows us Rafe’s job at a semaphore station and through a bit of history how he got to this prestigious position. Think of it like a particularly British Lord Darcy story.

I’m not sure where it is going – presumably we will discover more in later stories set in the same world – but I enjoyed the worldbuilding and the sense of timelessness that pervades this slower pace of life. There is a deliberately shocking ending, which I guess does fit with the overall theme of the issue. 4 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

Well, this one hits the ground running. What a superior issue! Impulse covers an impressive range of story. From Space Opera to alternative history to New Wave, each story this month combines this impressive variety of styles from a host of well-known authors to create an all-star issue. There’s little I didn’t like about this one. I particularly enjoyed the Aldiss, the Poul Anderson and the Keith Roberts, though if I had to pick a weak story it would probably be Richard Wilson’s Deserter, which was a little overwrought.

We seem to have started well. Can this month’s New Worlds compete?

Onto this month’s New Worlds

The Second Issue At Hand

After last month’s rally against the old guard, this month Mike Moorcock is attempting that perennial theme of trying to summarise what Science Fiction means to him and how fans can make it matter. It’s a nice summary for all those jumping on board at this point, but I’ve read similar before.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Evil That Men Do (Part 1), by John Brunner

I think we’ve had a bit of resurgence with John Brunner in the magazines of late. I was under the impression that even with the use of various pseudonyms, the magazines had lost him to the US magazines and writing novels, but in the last few months we’ve had stories (The Warp and the Woof Woof, last month) and non-fiction articles (Them As Can, Does in the January 1966 issue) in these pages, and now a novel split into two parts. This is different though in that it is less science fiction and more of a horror novel.

Godfrey Rayner’s party-piece is that he is a hypnotist, although he really uses the skill as a psychological tool. When persuaded to perform at a party, he does so reluctantly, to find the quiet young girl Fey Cantrip is upset by the process. Whilst not Rayner’s intended participant, Fey goes into a trance and talks of a nightmare involving a white dragon. When Rayner discusses what has happened with his psychiatrist friend Dr. Laszlo, they are surprised to find that Laszlo has a patient in Wickingham Prison who has recounted what sounds like the same dream (and the reason for one of the silliest covers I've seen on New Worlds lately.)

Lots of setting up here, which reads well but then just as the story gets going, it stops. What is the connection between the two dreamers and why are they having identical dreams? We’ll find out next month. This is OK, and reads easily, but as this is something with more of a Fritz Leiber / Weird Tales vibe about it, it’s not typical Brunner, and I would argue not his best. Kudos for trying something different, though. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

The Great Clock, by Langdon Jones

One of the points that’s surprised me lately in New Worlds is that Langdon Jones manages to pull a double shift. Not only is he the Assistant Editor, but he’s managing to create a line of intriguing fiction as well. They haven’t always worked for me, but I can’t deny that they are usually quite ambitious both in style and content. This one’s another allegorical one, about a naked man who finds himself giving his life’s service to the working of a giant clock. I get the idea that it is probably about the passage of time and the uselessness of spending an entire life giving service to a machine. Some nice descriptions of the workings of this enormous edifice, but in the end it seems rather pointless. It wouldn’t happen inside Big Ben, now, would it? Weirdly, it rather made me think of the film Metropolis. 3 out of 5.

From ONE, by Bill Butler

A poem, from a new name to the magazines. It’s about burning animals and dinosaurs. Marks for effort, but it doesn’t stir me to any kind of emotion. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Psychosmosis, by David I. Masson

And another story from who is probably my favourite ‘new’ author of the moment – this is his third story in three successive months. Again, this story is quite different, this time set in some kind of primitive cultured society.

To begin with, it is about a death in a tribal village, which leads to a naming-feast and much partying. However, in the aftermath Nant, one of the husbands is missing, followed by his newly-renamed wife Mara (once named Nira) in something referred to as a “double-vanishing.” We discover that they have passed over into The Inside, a realm where the village cannot see or hear them.

We then have two worlds – the first, the Faded lands of The Hard of Hearing, which is a harsh and difficult life with a language to match, whilst those who have passed over to The Inside, the Invokers, have a life of relative pleasure and luxury, which is again reflected in the language.

Returning to the land of the Hard of Hearing there is a boar hunt. Tan is regarded as a hero for surviving and killing many animals. However, like Nant and Mara before, when he goes to find his girlfriend Danna it seems that she has gone missing. He searches for her, eventually dies and passes over to the Inside where he meets all of his friends again, including Danna.

As is often the case on a first read of Masson's stories, I’m not quite sure what it all means. All the story really does is depict two opposing societies – is it an allegory for Heaven and Hell, for example? – but it is entertaining enough. as Masson manages to indulge in his love of language to depict the differences in society and lifestyle. The second tribe are, according to the author, ‘saved’, whilst the others are doomed, as shown by the last sentence.

Not sure that this one entirely works for me, but it is still impressive. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

The Post-Mortem People, by Peter Tate

Another new name to the magazines, or at least me. A strange tale of men and women who go around literally rubber-stamping dying people with their time of death in order to allow organ harvesting. The latest in another depressing dystopian setting, this one is typically sombre and actually rather unsettling. 3 out of 5.

The Disaster Story, by Charles Platt

Charles’s presence in the magazine in recent months has been a constant, with often well-received stories and entertainingly grumpy reviews in New Worlds. The Disaster Story is an attempt by the author to become deliberately more Ballardian, beginning with the statement “This is an attempt to isolate and express the ingredients which endow a distinct type of science fiction with unusual appeal.”

Well, they do say that imitation is the best form of flattery and if so then Ballard should be pleased. There’s nothing like ambition, but whilst The Disaster Story echoes Ballard in its visually dramatic and lyrical imagery and like some of Ballard’s tales is made up of short, discordant paragraphs, it is not as good as Ballard. Compare with Ballard’s story in this month’s Impulse and this is weaker, though a brave attempt. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

For A Breath I Tarry, by Roger Zelazny

I mentioned how much I enjoyed Roger’s writing when I reviewed Love is an Imaginary Number in the January 1966 issue of New Worlds. It seems that Mike Moorcock is similarly impressed, as here’s another story. I think that this one is just as good, if not better. It is a post-apocalyptic tale about Frost, who is a sentient computer created by Solcom, with dominion over half of the Earth. Over ten thousand years, Frost has taken on a hobby – that of studying Man, even though Man has long gone. At the South Pole there is the Beta-Machine, created by Solcom to work in a similar way over the Southern Hemisphere. Solcom now watches over both of them from space.

Opposing Solcom is Divcom and The Alternate, a computer system originally meant as a back-up to Frost and The Beta that through a chance accident to Solcom has also been activated. The two systems have spent the last few thousand years trying to remove the other – Frost claiming that the Alternative should not have been made operative in the first place, Divcom claiming that Solcom has been damaged and needs replacing. Over time this has created a somewhat uneasy but stable peace.

When Mordel, a robot created neither by Solcom or Divcom, strikes up a conversation with Frost, they find that they have a common interest – to study humans. This leads to Frost and Mordel examining a human relic – a book on Human Physiology – and then sharing of ideas on what is the nature of Man. This leads to Frost becoming determined to attain Manhood, and much of the rest of the story is about how far it goes towards that.

This story of god-like machines wanting to comprehend and even become like Man is thoughtful and well written and shows that Roger is writing material that is setting the standard across the Atlantic. I wouldn’t be surprised to see this one nominated for Awards in the next few months. Robots with personalities and a conscience – I wonder what Asimov would make of it? 4 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

Phase Three, by Michael Moorcock

Nice to see the editor as author again. This is the third Jerry Cornelius story (having first been seen in issues 153 and 157). Moorcock mixes cultural references with pagan mythology and strange happenings in time through the actions of his action-hero and his side-kick, Miss Brunner. (Where has Cornelius's wife gone to, I wonder?) This time Jerry goes to Scandinavia to try and find his brother Frank who appears to be “in a bad way” following the events of the previous story.  Frank leaves a strange map:

which Jerry and Miss Brunner use to track Frank down, to a place with secret Nazi constructions in some variant of the Hollow Earth theory. In terms of the bigger picture, it all seems to be connected to the super-computer mentioned in the last story.

Wildly imaginative, if supremely improbable, the rattling pace almost covers up the fact that this is an extract of a novel soon-to-be-published. As an extract, it doesn’t make much sense. But then that may be the point. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

We start with a big-hit reviewer this month. J.G. Ballard takes up the mantle and reviews The Childermass, Monstre Gai and Malign Fiesta by Wyndham Lewis. Must admit, I always confuse Wyndham Lewis with the already-mentioned-this-month John Wyndham, he of The Day of the Triffids fame, but Ballard makes a good case for reading Wyndham Lewis.

James Colvin, the Editor-by-Another-Name, tackles the paperbacks. He reviews J G Ballard’s story collection The Fourth Dimensional Nightmare in some detail before going onto a very brief mention of Isaac Asimov’s latest British releases.

Keeping that literary viewpoint he then reviews Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse and Jorge Luis Borge’s Fictions which, as expected, is regarded as “sublime”, and then Ray Cummings’s Tama of the Light Country for a bit of contrast. (As an old pulp story it does not fare well.)

Lastly Colvin mentions, but actually does little more than list, a number of Philip K Dick recent publications, stating at the end that they are “much, much better than most sf published recently.”

Like Moorcock, not content with just having a story in this issue, Assistant Editor Langdon Jones, under the heading Rose Among Weeds reviews The Rose by Charles L. Harness. It sells the book well, although as it is published by the same publisher as this magazine, I did cynically wonder whether it masquerades as subtle promotion. Given the reviewer’s usual sense of scorn (so-British!) I hope not.

There are no Letters pages this month.

Summing up New Worlds

In an appropriate moment of serendipity, the back cover subtly points out that this is the 160th issue and the first to have 160 pages. I have been quite positive about the changes in New Worlds in recent months, but the extra space seems to have reenergised the magazine even further. The weaker spots for me are the Brunner and the Platt, but even they are not bad, just eclipsed by the Zelazny and the Masson, both of which are excellent. The range is broad, and perhaps not for everyone, but if I was to point out an issue that epitomises the changes that sf has experienced in the last couple of years this would probably be it. From intangible horror to post-apocalyptic dystopia and decay, from culture bending satire and even a search for meaning, from Ballard-esque imagery to poetry, it is, dare I say it, a diversely classic issue. Moorcock’s editorial summing this up forms the impressive structure upon which current sf can be exhibited.

Summing up overall

Difficult choice this month. Both magazines seem to have benefitted from the extra space more page-age provides. I think that both editors have pulled out all the stops and produced better than average issues – I hope that it lasts. Impulse has hit the ground running, and I liked the the fact that both issues have managed to combine quality writing from both British and American writers to create a varied issue. Overall, I liked more of Impulse than I did New Worlds, but the Zelazny story in New Worlds is perhaps the best I’ve read this month.

So: Impulse has the edge, although – and I say this very rarely – in my opinion both issues are worth reading this month – despite me being two extra shillings down on the deal.

This is a wonderful sign for the future of sf here in Britain. What is also great is that comparing what we get here with what you get in the USA, the difference to me is quite apparent. Absolutely nothing wrong with that – in my mind, a broad genre is a sign of strength, not weakness. We really do seem to be entering some sort of new Golden Age.

To reflect this – next month, more Ballard in New Worlds!

Until the next…



 

17 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 20, 1966] An Embarrassment of Riches (February Galactoscope #2)

Leave a comment


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

On Saturday 29th January, Science Fiction and Fantasy fans in England were spoiled for choice in their viewing options.

Doctor Who: Destruction of Time
Doctor Who: Destruction of Time

On the BBC you could see the final part of Doctor Who's recent epic Dalek story. Later in the evening you could see the latest episode of US magical sitcom Bewitched.

Thunderbirds: Cry Wolf
Thunderbirds: Cry Wolf

Over on ATV London the evening stated with Gerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds, then there was aired the film version of Quatermass II and the evening ended with new horror anthology series Mystery and Imagination, adapting a J. Meade Falkner’s story The Lost Stradavarius.

Mystery and Imagination: The Lost Stradavarius
Mystery and Imagination: The Lost Stradavarius

When ABC Midlands also aired Mystery and Imagination, you could also see a golf themed adventure of The Avengers, along with a new episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.

Lost in Space: The Oasis
Lost in Space: The Oasis

Due to the weird TV areas, I can also get a weak Anglia signal. In addition to the above, they started the evening with episodes of The Flintstones and Lost in Space.

Dracula Prince of Darkness - Plague of the Zombies
Poster for Hammer’s latest horror double bill

Whilst, on the radio, The Home Programme was continuing their serialisation of Neil M. Gunn’s novel Green Isle of the Great Deep and in the cinema, you could still see Hammer’s most recent double bill, Dracula: Prince of Darkness and Plague of the Zombies.

When at the end of the last decade we would be waiting months for a single science fiction episode of ITV playhouse, this is a big change for the SF fan.

What also came through to me on that weekend is John Carnell’s latest New Writings:

New Writings in SF 7

New Writings In SF7

Invader by James White

James White should need no introduction to most SF fans, but, though he was a regular contributor to New Worlds up to Carnell’s final issue, he has not had anything published in the new British magazine landscape.

Here he returns with the first Sector General tale since Star Surgeon came out in ’63. This one deals with an interesting problem, where one of their senior physicians, Mannen, may have killed a patient through careless action. Conway, however, is determined to investigate and prove his innocence.

Although there are almost a dozen other Sector General tales printed you can easily pick this one up straight away without foreknowledge and the medical mystery aspect of this story is handled well and kept me engaged for the whole length.

Four Stars

This is not his only return to the SF scene, he also has a new novel out (see below for my review of that).

The Man Who Missed the Ferry by Douglas R. Mason

Usually Mason publishes as John Rankine, but with another story under that name in this issue (see below), we are getting his first non-pseudonymously published story. Given that he has his first novel coming soon under the Mason name, it will be interesting to see which he becomes better known for.

On to the actual piece in this issue: it is a bit of a puzzling one. Arthur Sinclair is a shipping clerk who loses his memory and decides to take a walk across the river Mersey, literally walking across the water without a second thought. More details and powers of his emerge as the story goes on but things do not end up going entirely well.

The whole thing reads more like a description of someone’s dream than a science fiction tale. Too much that is unexplained and seems to happen for reasons that make neither narrative nor thematic sense.

Two Stars

The Night of the Seventh Finger by Robert Presslie

Returning after his confounding piece in the last anthology he does something a little more traditional here.

Sue Bradley travels from the boring Eastwood New Town to the city for an evening of entertainment. There she meets a mysterious man, who may be mad or from the future.

The topic is a bit of a cliched one but what I did appreciate is the focus on the boredom of teenagers in the new planned towns, an area that is very contemporary and unmined by SFF writers in Britain, who tend to either prefer city centres or isolated villages.

Three Stars

Six Cubed Plus One by John Rankine

At Goresville Comprehensive school they have setup a cube shaped annex to house an “automated section” for study groups to use. However, it is actually an experiment in creating a new form of life. As you would expect, things go wrong,

This feels more like a pitch document for an ATV children’s television serial than a modern piece of science fiction. Overall, I didn’t feel there was much to it and I had real trouble maintaining my interest to keep reading. Clearly Carnell likes Rankine\Mason, but I am yet to be convinced by his writings.

Two Stars

Coco-Talk by William F. Temple

Temple has been largely absent from the British magazines for a while, publishing pieces in America which often have a quite old-fashioned sensibility. This, on the other hand, feels like a bit more of a step forward.

It concerns the Minister of Cultural Exchange going to Venus as a spy on the Venusians. The problem is their tendency to speak in Coco-Talk, a form of shocking double-speak. The whole thing then goes into a form of interplanetary espionage which is, in itself, a quite interesting little escapade.

I do have questions about whether the choice of name is meant to evoke non-European cultures, and, if so, if we are meant to read the text as colonialist or an anticolonial satire. It seems to go so close to the line on this point that I struggle to determine intent.

Three stars

A Touch of Immortality by R. W. Mackelworth

In the future there has been developed a means to send bullets into the far future. This is to be used to grant immortality to President Strom. However, there is a method of physical immortality available, but who would want that?

A middling piece on the nature of immortality and largely forgettable.

Two stars

Manscarer by Keith Roberts

Did you really think we would get away from Mr. Roberts? No chance of that!

In this final novelette, a colony of artists have been building a series of giant sculptures, but when a death occurs the colonists begin to question their purpose.

I found this a real struggle to get through, the message had been done many times before and the treatment of women here was terrible.

If you want better treatment of the nature of art and artist I would instead recommend Leaf by Niggle by J. R. R. Tolkien in Tree and Leaf.

Two stars

So this was not an exceptional example of the series, with only one real standout and the rest merely being adequate to average. Carnell also continues to fail to branch out in his author selection. The results tend to be variable, but maybe it is worth taking the lead from If and reserving a few pages for newer writers. Carnell may be a steady hand at the helm but it would be great to see him venture out of his lagoon.

The Watch Below by James White
Cover by George Zeil

The Watch Below

Whilst next month the British hardback is coming out, Ballantine’s edition is already available in the US and I managed to acquire one early.

A few years ago James White was one of the most celebrated British SF authors and seemed to be going from strength to strength. With his Sector General tales being published in the US and Second Ending becoming a Hugo Finalist. But he had nothing new released last year and only Open Prison the year before.

Thankfully Carnell seems to have dragged him back to the SF field once again (White describes Carnell in the dedication as “Friend, Agent, Slave-driver”) with a most unusual take on familiar concepts.

In 1942 the tanker ship The Gulf Trader, sinks in a convoy after a torpedo attack, miraculously those on board find themselves in an air bubble on the ship and begin to work out how to survive down there in their new isolated home. Something they have to do for generations.

Meanwhile, the Uthans, an aquatic species, have left their now uninhabitable planet on giant starships, heading towards a distant world whose surface is mostly water, using freezing technology to keep their crew and passengers alive for the whole journey. However, it turns out multiple freezings and unfreezings causes brain damage. So the only solution is for a selection of the crew to stay unfrozen and have their descendants continue leading the voyage for them.

As you can tell, this is a tale of two accidental generation ships, one of air breathers trapped underwater, one of water breathers travelling through space. The stories, in fact, do not connect until the penultimate chapter so what we are left with is an interesting case of having the themes parallel each other without directly interacting for the most part. This is a trick I am familiar with from literary fiction, but not one I recall seeing in science fiction before.

In fact, I wonder if this is an attempt to keep up with the changing nature of science fiction. I would say I have seen three camps of SF fans: Pulp readers (who want adventure and splashy concepts), Hard SF fans (who want real science and problem stories) and New Wavers (who want experimentation and literary flourishes). This book seems to strive to have something for everyone. It has the bold ideas of an underwater home and an aquatic spaceship. White then also goes to pains to try to explain the science of these ridiculous concepts, having pages of the different crews explain how they will eat, breathe, reproduce, etc. But then adds a lot of literary techniques whilst also touching on areas often considered taboo by some SF writers, such as menstruation, death in childbirth, and orgies.

As you can probably tell this is an ambitious novel trying to do a lot of different things and please a wide audience. The big question is, of course, does White manage to pull it all off? Unfortunately, not entirely. His usual easy readability is lost as he attempts to establish his worlds and I found myself wanting to put down the book as he spends paragraphs discussing the necessary quantities of plant growth.

Even worse, although the decision to make the two crews not meet until the end of the novel is an interesting idea, it results in the ending seeming incredibly rushed, with White moving from a slow paced discussion to a frantic attempt to wrap up the story before he runs out of words.

I can’t help but feel this book too ambitious and in search of a larger page count. In the end I found myself admiring The Watch Below more than enjoying it.

Three Stars

The Lost Perception by Daniel F. Galouye

The Lost Perception

From a Northern Irish writer first published in the US, to an American writer being first published in the UK. However, as far as I know, there is no release date from The Lost Perception yet from Bantam. I am not sure why this is, but I am still glad to be able to get another book from one of the most interesting North American writers.

After his detour into the Philip K. Dick-esque Simulacron-3, he returns to another Post-Disaster tale, reminiscent in many ways of The Lords of Psychon.

As usual Galouye throws a lot at us. In 1983 those known as screamers begin to emerge, people have violent seizures they are not able to escape from. By the mid-90s it is an epidemic causing an almost societal collapse. Gregson, an agent for the Security Bureau (what remains of the former United Nations) is sent to look into the situation with the screamie epidemic.

This is only the start of what is happening. There has also been the appearance of an alien race known as The Valorian, who appear to be trying to infiltrate society. Further, the title of book itself refers to zylphing, a form of ESP that begins to become unlocked for humans.

The whole thing is a very fast paced thriller that throws around concepts and ideas as if they were rice at a wedding. I have read through it a few times now and I am still not sure I fully understand everything that was going on. There are layers of double crosses and conspiracies that made my head spin trying to keep up with all of them.

As such I feel explaining more of the plot is a fool’s errand. Also, with so much going on the characters felt very flat to me, merely serving to be moved around like pieces on a chess board. Helen in particular feels less like a person as a plot device to keep the story going. The attempts to make it feel more global also fall flat, with them talking about “a turbaned Oriental” and a “robed African”.

Two areas where it does shine are in the concepts and the pacing. The story does not let up for one page before you are moving on to the next bizarre occurrence or new piece of information. At the same time this post-disaster world felt very lived-in and believable that this kind of organisation would spring up in the face of such a threat.

So, whilst I was able to read it fast and feel it was an experience, I was often lost. It may be perceptive, but of what I remain unsure.

Three Stars

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




No comments Leave A Comment
Magazine

[February 18, 1966] Fixing up the old place (March 1966 Fantasy & Science Fiction)

5 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Inside the Modern Home

Interior decorating has always been a passion of mine, and few times have been as exciting to be a fan of home interiors than today.  Gone are the pastels and pillows of the 1950s; the mid 1960s are a time of bold colors, Space Age shapes, and stark contrasts. 

Dig this brightly hued dining and living space, vivid in primary colors but also subdued with its Japanese influence and pink walls.  This is a pad screaming for a party.

If you want something more intimate, how about this shaggy, flame-themed family room?


(just don't tell these happy folks that their Albers painting is hung sideways…)

Of course, not all innovation is beautiful.  Concrete has foundationed the New Brutalism, and I hate it.  I understand the new La Jolla campus of the University of San Diego is going to be done up in this shelter chic, which is a pity.  It's a good thing I'll never have to attend classes there (Lorelei, on the other hand, might well).



Inside the Modern Magazine

The changing vista of science fiction offers its beauties and eyesores, as well.  Thankfully, the latest issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction offers a suite of worlds that, though I may not want to live in all of them, most of them were worth a visit.


by Gray Morrow

Angels Unawares, by Zenna Henderson

Is there anything more eagerly awaited than a new story of The People?  In this case, as always, Henderson delivers.  I believe this is the earliest story in the series, chronologically, taking place as it does some time in the 19th Century.  A young woman and her mining engineer husband are heading West to the bustling copper town of Margin when they come across the burned remains of a home in the wilderness.  Four charred bodies are inside, incinerated by zealots as witches.  But a child survives, shocked into muteness but possessed of extraordinary powers.  The settlers adopt her, and thus ensues a tale of pain, maturity, and rebirth like only this author can tell.

Stories of The People feature a set group of ingredients, and yet somehow Henderson manages to make a delicious new recipe every time.  Five stars.  Bon appetit.

I Remember Oblivion, by Henry Slesar

In an effort to replace brutality with mercy in our penal system, a young murderer is taken off Death Row and given new memories.  Harsh, abuse-filled past is swapped for bright sunny days and love in the hopes of creating a well-adjusted psyche.

But the widower of the killer's last victim has other plans…

There's a kernel of a good idea here: are we the sum of our memories, or is there more to the human soul?  Unfortunately, Slesar, a screenwriter who has yet to really impress me, goes for the cheap gimmick.  The result is the least satisfying piece of the issue.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Tomlinson, by Rudyard Kipling

The author of The Jungle Book has been dead for thirty years, long enough (Editor Ed Ferman suggests) for a poem of his to be uncontroversially reprinted.  A story of life after death, it's Tomlinson this and Tomlinson that, and Tomlinson go away, as he is rejected by both Heaven and Hell for being a fellow who neither sinned nor achieved good deeds.

Pleasant enough.  Three stars.

Lil, Rorrity, and A Foamin' Sea of Steam Beer, by Richard Olin
"Daniel Rorrity was a short, stubby…fisherman," begins the tale, and so it ends as well.  In between, from his well-worn stool 'Roarey' regales Lil, the B-girl, of the adventures he'd had and the places he'd visited before his back was lamed.  And one day, he swore (when the beers were many and the mood was high), he'd buy his own boat and sail the world with his lady love.  Karl, the disdainful barkeep, inadvertently provides the impetus to transform a boastful sot into a captain of fantastic seas.

It's a lot more style than substance, but the style is lovely.  Four stars.

White Night, by John Tomerlin

In the South of France, a lost hiker takes refuge in a battered auberge.  The serving girl takes a shine to him, and they spend the night together.  But the morning reveals a hideous transformation.

A reasonable piece of trivial horror, though if the protagonist doesn't get eaten, I'm honestly not sure what the fuss is.  It's not as if he didn't have fun, regardless of what she looks like now…

Three stars.

Grow Old Along with Me, by Julius Fast

In a twist on the Deal with the Devil cliché, Fast's tale is of a young man who declines the offered gifts of Old Nick, and in turn gains something better — a friend.

Lucifer ain't such a bad guy after all!

Three stars.

The Rocks of Damocles, by Isaac Asimov

If Mariner 4 taught us anything, it's that sizable planets are just as prone to being blasted by asteroids and meteorites as moons.  In his latest article, the Good Doctor explains why it's only a matter of time before humanity gets walloped by an extraterrestrial bullet.

Sleep well!  Four stars.

The Blind God's Eye by Kathleen James

It's our world, but in a bleaker, poorer future, and Alice, living a bleak, poor life, is just trying to muddle through widow-hood as a bar dishwasher.  Then she meets Red, a burly young man with an iron liver…and a curious resonance of fate with Hugh Veron, an up-and-coming dictator who will be making a speech right in front of the bar in a few days.

A tale of love and tragedy, it's told in a sort of breathless, diary-like fashion that could have been grating, but for me was riveting.

Four stars.

Mickey Finn, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Lastly, another poem about the afterlife.  A man goes to Heaven when he's ready for it, and not before, and when he gets there, it's as dingy as he expects.

Oddly placed and somehow trivial, it is not helped by the typo in the last line.

Three stars.

Digging the Decor

It's not often that a magazine manages to crack the 3.5 star barrier, but F&SF has done it twice in four months.  Plus, Zenna Henderson makes any issue worthwhile (though I can't say I'm a fan of the lurid cover — I believe it's Gray Morrow's first for the mag).  In any event, if you're looking for a clutch of science fiction to go with your mod decor, the March 1966 F&SF is a safe bet.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well!  If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article!  Thank you for your continued support.

5 Comments Leave A Comment
Movies

[February 16, 1966] An import-ant next step in my Sci-fi journey (Them!)

5 Comments


by Dana Pellebon

A Fortuitous Meeting

Hello travelers! I’m very excited to begin my journey with you. I had the pleasure of recently meeting Gideon Marcus at a fundraiser for Heifer Inc. While raising money for this important organization, I had the opportunity to talk with him about some of our shared interests. We found out that we were both born in California, enjoyed quite a bit of the same music, and have a shared love of sci-fi.

My love of sci-fi began with the release of the Godzilla movies from Japan. The fantastical storylines and the varied monster villains captures my imagination. The excitement of it all culminates with the King of the Monsters, Godzilla, taking over the screen, creating havoc, and establishing dominance. So when Gideon talked about writing something for Galactic Journey, it was an easy choice for me to say yes and then to cast about for an example of my favorite genre of sci-fi movies, giant monsters.


Gojira, 1954

It's Movie Time!

I was lucky to find a fine example of the genre from the last decade on television. Them! was released in 1954, the same year Godzilla first made landfall. Written by Ted Sherdeman and directed by Gordon Douglas, Them! is one of the pioneers of the nuclear monster movies and is one of the first overgrown bug features. At least, so it said in the newspaper. Thus intrigued, last weekend I settled into my couch with my Jiffy Pop popcorn to spend the next hour and a half transfixed.


Them!, 1954

The story opens with some fantastic mood music and sweeps over the desert with a bird’s eye view from a plane. That alone is already exciting. Soundtracks are so important to the feel of the movie and the soundscape immediately inspires dread and suspense. You see a figure walking alone, which is an unusual way out in the middle of nowhere, and it turns out to be a mute little girl. As soon as I see a kid wandering alone obviously traumatized, it immediately puts me on edge which heightens the already suspenseful moments. When the officers start to transport the young girl to the hospital, there’s a high pitched sound and you see her respond briefly unbeknownst to the officers next to her. But, it’s a disconcerting moment. Further investigation finds she is the sole survivor of an attack on her family. At this point, the movie sets the stage for a mystery and the suspense is already killing me to find out what’s next.

More Than Just A Pretty Face

Another killing and disappearance later, the police and FBI agents on the case are perplexed to learn two scientists from the Department of Agriculture are joining the investigation. Meeting them at the airport, the first exit from the plane shows the legs of a man, Dr. Harold Medford. On the second exit, you could see the shapely legs of a woman in heels. I am pleasantly surprised that the second scientist is a woman named Dr. Patricia Medford, the daughter of Dr. Harold Medford. The focus, however, is not on her as an attractive woman but as a researcher. She isn’t there as decoration but is an active, equal part of the investigative team. Having a female lead character where the central theme is her brains and not her beauty is a refreshing departure from how women are commonly depicted in film.


Drs. Patricia and Harold Medford deep in discussion while Agent Graham and Sgt. Peterson listen in

She and her father are myrmecologists and they take the lead on the investigation into the killings. They are very reticent to give information and are hostile to questions about their process. It is surprising how much leeway the scientists are given with the FBI and police. But, a strong woman lead makes me happy and it is a pleasant change of pace over the traditional paradigm. After the team starts investigating in the desert where the child was found, the gigantic ant reveals itself to attack Dr. Patricia Medford. The first ant vs. human shootout occurs on film and it is a gas! Even though the gigantic ant is a little corny and doesn’t move very fast, there is a palpable sense of urgency. After realizing hand guns are not doing the trick, the police officer brings out a machine gun and puts down the ant.


Ant attacks Dr. Patricia Medford and Agent Graham!

The rest of the plot becomes a cat and mouse game of finding the wayward ants and eradicating them. From cyanide gas to bombing to flamethrowers, humans go through great lengths to protect themselves and their territory. It is at this point that I feel pretty sorry for the ants. They really were just following their nature, foraging for food and being ants. In fact, the whole situation is really our fault: it is revealed that the ants were mutated by the atomic bomb tests of the 40’s. Our thirst for atomic bombs created literal monsters that then have to be killed. Dr. Harold Medford states the final lines of the film, which ends up being the most poignant moment for me personally:, “When Man entered the atomic age, he opened a door into a new world. What we’ll eventually find in that new world, nobody can predict.”


Final Showdown!

The Atomic Age?

I’m holding out hope that this new nuclear world Dr. Medford mentions won’t be in too much of a hurry to destroy itself. We've already seen the horrors it produced at Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 and we got a sneak preview of coming attractions during the Cuban Missile Crisis. And now I have to be on the lookout for giant animals when I’m back in the desert Southwest!

Nevertheless, I really enjoy this movie, which shares common themes with Godzilla. The conceit that humanity’s interests take precedence, regardless of the cost to nature (and the ensuing catastrophe this causes humanity) is something that gets played with quite a bit in those movies and I end up ultimately rooting for what many people consider to be the villain. Plus, in addition being morally resonant, Them! is just a lot of fun. I am now craving more “monster” movies and will be scanning the local listings to expand my palate of sci-fi.

Four stars.

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




5 Comments Leave A Comment
Fashion, music, politics, sports

[February 14, 1966] "…to Replace the Pounds and the Shillings and the Pence" (Australia Goes Decimal)

7 Comments


by Kaye Dee

Today is C-Day (Conversion Day) – the day Australia switches to decimal currency after 140 years of using the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. (I actually think it should have been called D-Day, for Decimalisation Day, but I guess that might have seemed insensitive to some of our returned servicemen). Schoolkids are now sighing with relief that they will not have to learn to do those complicated “money sums” like all the generations before them!

A Rum Deal

Australia’s monetary history is rather colourful. In the early days of the penal colony in Sydney, there was very little hard currency available, and most transactions were by barter. Rum and other spirits became a form of currency, controlled by corrupt military officers, which earned their regiment the nickname “the Rum Corps”. When Governor Bligh (yes, that Bligh of Mutiny on the Bounty fame!) tried to prohibit spirits from being used as a medium of exchange, it resulted in a mutiny that drove him from the colony in 1808. This event is known, not surprisingly, as the Rum Rebellion.


Governor Macquarie, Bligh’s successor, introduced the first Australian currency. He purchased 40,000 Spanish dollars and had a round piece punched out of the middle of each one, producing two coins – the “holey dollar” (valued at five shillings) and the “dump” (valued at one shilling and three pence). His “minter” was a convicted forger!

Real Money

In the mid-1820s, the British Government finally decided to provide the Australian colonies with a proper currency and introduced the British system of Pounds, Shillings and Pence. If you’re not familiar with it, 12 pence (pennies) made up a shilling and 20 shillings made one pound.

Australia used British coins and banknotes right up into the early 1900s. It wasn’t until 1910, nine years after the colonies federated to form the Commonwealth of Australia, that the Australian Pound was introduced. Even then, it was branches of Britain’s Royal Mint in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth that produced the coins, indicating how closely Australia remained tied to Britain. The first Royal Australian Mint was only opened in early 1965 to produce our new decimal coins. 


Australian Pound notes (with pretty boring designs) and the full range of Australian coins available before the changeover to decimal currency. A "florin" was another name for a two shilling coin

Going Decimal

Several times in the past 50 years, there have been suggestions for Australia to adopt a decimal currency system. Decimal currency puts us in line with all the world’s major currencies, apart from the Pound Sterling, and all our trading partners apart from Great Britain. But Britain did not want Australia to change its monetary system, and successive Australian Governments and the Reserve Bank of Australia ultimately accepted the British view.

However, in the late 1950s, Prime Minister Robert Menzies finally recognised the economic and pragmatic importance of converting to a decimalised currency. With Australia’s export trade increasing, the complexity of the Pounds, Shillings and Pence system made the arithmetic of financial transactions unnecessarily difficult (as I know from personal experience). Research showed that decimalisation would save the Australian economy more than £11 million ($22 million) a year, through the increased convenience of a decimal currency. This would quickly offset the £30 million ($60 million) cost of conversion. So, in 1963 the Currency Act nominated 14 February 1966 as the day Australia would go decimal.

In Come the Dollars…

Our new currency needed a name and new designs that would be uniquely Australian. A public competition was held in 1963 to find a name “with an Australian flavour” for the currency. About 1000 submissions were received. These included suggestions such as Austral, Boomer (a male kangaroo), Kanga, Roo, Emu, Digger (an Australian soldier), Zac (old nickname for a sixpence coin; it’s also slang for something worthless), Kwid (a funny spelling of the old slang “quid” meaning a Pound), and Ming (from Prime Minister Menzies’ nickname, which comes from the Flash Gordon character “Ming the Merciless”!).


1963 prototype designs for the possible new "Royal". As you can see, one design followed the style of the existing Pound note, the other was quite modern and tilts towards the style in the eventual dollar design

Mr. Menzies rejected all the competition’s suggestions. Being a fervent monarchist, he proposed instead calling the currency the Royal. However, the public made it clear that they didn’t like that name (I certainly didn’t!), so in September 1963, the Treasurer announced that our new currency would be the dollar (which would be the equivalent of 10 shillings), divided into 100 cents. Everyone was much happier with that.

Monopoly Money
It was decided that the new coins should depict Australian wildlife while the notes should reflect national history and Australia’s contribution to the wider world. Gordon Andrews, one of Australia’s leading industrial designers, has designed the new notes. His bright colours and modern style have already led to some wits comparing the new notes to “Monopoly money”, but I think they look great and represent a nation which is coming out from under Britain’s shadow and finding its own feet. 

Australia's new decimal coins. The 1 cent piece shows a possum (a completely different animal from the American opossum); the 2 cent, a frill-necked lizard; the 5 cent coin shows an echidna (otherwise known as a spiny ant-eater) and the 10 cent a lyre-bird; the 20 cent depicts a platypus and the 50 cent coin carries the Australian Coat of Arms, which includes a kangaroo and an emu

The $1 note acknowledges Australia’s origins depicting Aboriginal art and Queen Elizabeth II, while the $2 highlights Australian agricultural innovation in the development of the superfine wool Australian Merino sheep and rust-disease resistant Federation wheat. The $10 note recognises the freed convicts who helped to build this country and our home-grown poets and writers, and the $20 celebrates internationally renowned Australian aviation pioneers. I understand that next year, once we have become more used to the new notes, a $5 bill will also be introduced. Hopefully, it will recognise the often-overlooked contribution of women to Australia’s history.

Our new dollar notes, with their fresh modern styling. To make the transition easier for users, the decimal notes have been matched to their counterparts in the “old money” and are similarly, but more brightly, coloured as you can see by comparison with the earlier image of the Australian Pounds

Meet Dollar Bill


Dollar Bill, the decimal changeover mascot, singing his jingle to a classical musician playing an instrument shaped like the Pound symbol

In April last year, a new character appeared on our TV screens and in cinema ads. His name is “Dollar Bill” and he was introduced as part of the government’s campaign to educate everyone about decimal currency before C-Day arrived. Dollar Bill has been on TV every night (sometimes too many times a night!), singing his catchy little jingle to help familiarise people with the new currency values and the date of changeover. The most memorable part of the jingle is: “In come the dollars and in come the cents, to replace the pounds and the shillings and the pence. Be prepared folks when the coins begin to mix, on the fourteenth of February 1966”. I’m not sure why, but the identity of the person who provides the voice for Dollar Bill is being kept a secret.

The jingle’s tune is based on the folk song “Click Go the Shears” (about sheering sheep in outback Australia). Everyone knows that song, so it makes the decimal currency rhyme easy to remember. I think it’s engraved on my brain now: I’ve heard it so many times, I suspect I’ll still be able to sing it when I’m sixty! Those of you in America might be interested to know that the tune was originally an American Civil War song "Ring the Bell, Watchman" by Henry Clay Work, that somehow made its way down under.


The character is very popular with kids and apparently the Decimal Currency Board gets about 500 fan mail letters a week for Dollar Bill from school children. He has appeared on everything from billboards to matchbox covers. 

To appeal to the teenage audience, there’s a hip little rock number called “The Decimal Point Song”, sung by a young man named Ian Turpie. It was never going to rate on the pop charts, but I think young Turpie could have a good career ahead of him in entertainment. For older Australians there’s even a series of television ads called “Get with It, Gran”.


Major retailers are helping customers feel comfortable with the changeover by including decimal prices and their "old money" equivalents in their catalogues

It's not easy for older people, or younger ones either for that matter, to get used to the change, especially if they are not very good at maths. But at least we have two years of changeover, during which both old and new currency can be used. Of course, the kids now in Primary School have it easy, as they'll grow up with the new system. It will be interesting to see on the news tonight how the first day of the changeover goes, but I doubt there will be the chaos that some pessimists are predicting after all the community preparation. And who knows – if things go smoothly, maybe the government will even consider taking Australia metric as well in the future! 


There are quite a few handy little pocket calculators like these available that make the conversion process relatively easy. I'll bet their inventors are making a small fortune




7 Comments Leave A Comment

55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction