[May 6, 1966] Blaise-ing Wreckage (Modesty Blaise)

May 6, 2021 Kris Vyas-Myall 5 Comments

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Eye Spies

Spies are everywhere these days. James Bond is now just one of many secret agents dominating cinema.

On TV you are spoilt for choice, whether you prefer John Steed, John Drake, Richard Cadell, Napoleon Solo or even Amos Burke.

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, Funeral In Berlin, Somewhere In The Night — Just a few of the spy books that dominate UK bookshelves

You can go to any bookshop and pick up the latest thriller from people like John Le Carre, Len Deighton or even by Michael Moorcock (under one of his many aliases).

But also, in real life news. A 92-page document was made public in Vancouver yesterday, detailing the allegation that George Victor Spencer, recently deceased, had been assigned to look into farms near the US border in order to find a suitable property to set up a site that could possibly have been a base for Soviet intelligence operations.

Mr. Spencer had denied these allegations and called for a public enquiry before his death. I imagine the debate about whether he was really a Russian agent or just a falsely accused man will continue for some time.

With all this intrigue happening around us, it is perhaps unsurprising that the first ever British comic book adaptation is another spy tale: Peter O’Donnell’s Modesty Blaise.

An Unlucrative Medium

Comic books have not been ones for adaptation in Britain. We did not have the 30s/40s film serials like the United States, so we did not get a Garth Conquers The Universe or The Return of Buck Ryan.

Nor is there a strong enough animation field to produce The Adventures of Dan Dare or The Rupert The Bear Show.

Whilst comics remain popular the idea that we would ever get a Roy of the Rovers or Bash Street Kids film would seem beyond remote. But Modesty Blaise has changed that.

A Pop Culture Icon

Modesty Blaise Novelization — Peter O’Donnell’s “novelization” of the film script

The first strip of Modesty Blaise was only released 3 years ago, but she has already become a massive success. So before talking about the new movie I think it is important to talk about the original strip.

Romeo Brown Strip — A Romeo Brown story in which he gets hit with a golf ball and loses his memory

At the same time as working on the beloved adventure strip Garth, the Daily Mirror further employed Peter O'Donnell to takeover Romeo Brown, their comedy comic strip about a bumbling detective, usually involved in silly situations with various young women. The quality of the strip is not that memorable, but it is there he began collaborating with Jim Holdaway.

After Romeo Brown finished, Peter O’Donnell decided to create a more serious strip where a woman would be a capable hero rather than simply an object of desire or a damsel for the man to rescue. Apparently inspired by an orphan girl he met when stationed in Persia during the war, he teamed up once again with Holdaway to create Modesty Blaise.

Modesty & Marjorie — Modesty reassures Willie’s girlfriend Marjorie that she has no romantic feelings for him.

Starting in 1963, Blaise feels like a totally new type of hero. Both Modesty Blaise and Willie Garvin (her loyal sidekick) are both former criminals neither from privileged backgrounds. Modesty grew up in refugee camps in Persia and other Middle Eastern countries, whilst Willie is very much a working-class character. There is also no suggestion that she has any romantic interaction with Willie, instead they are loyal professional colleagues.

Modesty Blaise Action — An excellent action sequence where Willie rams a lorry into Gabriel’s mansion

It is not just the initial concept that is fresh, the quality of the strip feels ahead of anything else I could easily pick up. O’Donnell’s plots feel fresh and complex, varying significantly from story to story. One week she will be investigating drug running in the Vietnam war, the next dealing with psychic espionage. These are combined with characters that feel deep and real. O’Donnell’s writing and Holdaway’s art also come together to give a really cinematic presentation with a real eye for direction.

The Daily Express’ James Bond strip: A more old fashioned kind of spy story

Whilst it can often feel like comic books lag behind literature (most science fiction strips seem to be barely coming to grips with the Golden Age), Modesty Blaise often feels like it is closer to the new wave of British espionage literature. Rather than the old-fashioned heroics of James Bond, Blaise owes something to the George Smiley tales or The IPCRESS File, with a certain level of cynicism about intelligence operations.

Modesty comforts Weng after he shoots his sister

The prospects for the film seemed good at first. Peter O’Donell wrote the initial story for the film, although it was changed significantly for the screen (his novelization is based on his script rather than the finished product) with the main writer and director representing a reunion of Joseph Losey and Evan Jones, the team behind the brilliant Hammer Film The Damned.

So, I went in to see it on the first day of release quietly confident…

An Outrageous Mess

…and I am honestly not sure what I got. It is almost like every scene was made by a different director, none of whom talked to each other, and all footage edited together in five minutes at midnight.

It is quite an experience to watch and hard to believe it was ever released. Is the intention meant to be satirical? Artistic? Serious? I cannot see it particularly working with any reading.

Modesty Blaise Fashions — Just a few of the numerous outfits on display (along with her magical color changing hair)

If I were to praise anything about it, it is the look. The design work in it is beautiful, taking full advantage of being in colour to showcase bright locations and fashions. But even that gets wearying quickly. I believe Modesty changes outfit in almost every scene, only briefly wearing her iconic comic outfit for the sake of a cheap joke about how to change out of it. At times it feels less like they consider Blaise to be a spy than a model for Marissa Martelli’s designs.

Rather than the serious tone of the newspaper strip, Losey’s film has a large dose of comedy inserted into it. Some is absurdly silly, some is satiric, some is very dark. None of it really landed for me.

One of the core points of Modesty's character is how skilled a fighter she is. Here the only evidence we see of that is a really poorly choreographed fight scene. For much of the film she is reduced to being a damsel in distress. This is a common problem in British media, I am aware, but that doesn’t make it any less disappointing to see here.

Modesty and Willie discuss their romantic feelings through the medium of song.

Willie now seems to have transformed into some Alfie-like lothario in a modish bachelor pad rather than an ex-criminal who runs a pub. They also break one of the most interesting elements of the original strip by involving them in a romance. Inexplicably told through musical numbers taking place in between or during action scenes.

Gabriel was previously a Moriarty style figure with an enlarged forehead and walked with a limp. Much like Lex Luthor is to Superman, he seems designed to be the brain to match Modesty and Willie’s brawn. Yet in the film he just appears to be an eccentric, upset about any snag in his plans whilst launching rocket missiles that shoot lasers.

The movie also uses scenes from the original comic but without any real explanation or context. The opening scene appears to be taken from The Gabriel Set-Up but whilst there it is a key plot-point about a device to extract people’s secrets, in the film it appears to be an advanced printer which, in another attempt at humor, is unable to give information she requires and has no relation to the rest of the story.

At the start of this section, I said trying to get a read on what this film is trying to do is tough. As an adaptation it has barely any faithfulness. As a silly comedy the jokes are not directed well enough to land.

If it is a satire I am not sure what of? Imperialism? It is more imperialist than anything. Spy films and TV? The meta-fictional jokes don’t really make sense for that. I never thought a problem with all the espionage thrillers coming out is that they have obvious continuity errors, break out into musical numbers at random or even that they take themselves too seriously. The awful carry-on films do a better job at mockery of popular media than this.

I have heard it is trying to be artful but, honestly, I am not convinced by that either. I am fan of the cut-up approach of Burroughs, Ballard and their ilk but they do this to tell a story as a whole in an interesting way, not to make something non-sensical. Whilst we can debate the true value of Duchamp’s Fountain, I can see the point he was making. The only point here seems to be it is a plainly bad film.

The End…Thankfully

Modesty Blaise End — As the Sheikh’s troops advance on Gabriel’s stronghold, Willie and Modesty sing once again.

I do not even know if you can truly rank this on a star system. I cannot even be sure what I just watched was actually a film. The only evidence seems to be I paid money to see it in a cinema. The whole thing, whatever it is, is almost worth seeing in order to appreciate how bizarre an experience it is.

However, I come down on the side of staying at home instead. There you can spend your time reading O’Donnell and Holdaway’s wonderful comic strip in comfort. Find out if a newspaper anywhere near you is syndicating it, I hear that it has been picked up all over the world and it is one of the true greats.

Unlike the shambles Losey served up.

One Star

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[May 4, 1966] Pushing the Envelope (The State of Music: 1964-66)

May 4, 2021 Gideon Marcus 4 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

It's been three years since our last survey of the American music scene. When last we took the pulse of Top 40, music was in a weird in-between stage with a dozen different genres and influences competing for ascendance. What we didn't see back then was the great tidal wave of musical influence that was about to crash on our shores from across the Pond. I think it's safe to say that 1964 was a watershed year, and the pop scene at least can be divided into the eras BBI and ABI…

The British Invasion

The tip of the spear was, of course, The Beatles. The right combination of talent, variety, and infectious tunes, all in a slick gray-suited, mop-topped package, the Fab Four were a hit in the U.S. from the moment they appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show in February '64.

What made The Beatles so compelling was that they had so much to offer. From their surprisingly diverse debut album, to their rocking second album, and on through their movie soundtracks, A Hard Day's Night and Help!, the British quartet had three score songs to enjoy, almost all of them hit-worthy.

And shoulder to shoulder with the boys from Liverpool was a host of other bands: The Dave Clark Five with their hard-hitting Glad All Over and Bits and Pieces, the delightfully varied and somewhat cynical The Kinks with hits ranging from All Day and All of the Night to the wistful Sunny Afternoon, the bluesy The Who with their anthemic My Generation, and The Rolling Stones, who certainly provide Satisfaction, Eric Burdom's soulful The Animals, the unusual The Zombies. More recently, The Hollies have impressed with I'm Alive and especially Look through any Window.

I enjoyed the sardonic A Well Respected Man quite a lot.

There are many Animals songs to choose from, but We Gotta Get Out of This Place is relentless!

Look Through Any Window blew us away!

Plus all the lighter Merseybeat gang, from Gerry and the Pacemakers to the goofy Freddy and the Dreamers, Peter and Gordon to Chad and Jeremy. The utterly gormless yet inexplicably popular Herman's Hermits. Not to mention the more musical theater-type stars like Petula Clark, Dusty Springfield, and Lulu.

Downtown is both upbeat and melancholy at the same time.

All in all, it's been a musical smorgasbord, so delightful that you almost don't mind how many former musical greats got cut off midcareer: who listens to Neil Sedaka or Rick Nelson anymore? And Elvis is barely hanging on.

Domestic Resistance

Nevertheless, the Yanks have both resisted and embraced the invasion. The Beach Boys have kept on plugging away since their 1962 debut with album after album, and they don't seem at all fazed by the foreign influx.

Motown remains King (Queen?) too: Acts like The Supremes, Martha and the Vandellas, The Four Tops, The Impressions, Dionne Warwick, etc. fill the Top 10 as often as any English band.

Stop in the Name of Love — we got Tony Randall, too!.

Sadly, Martha and the Vandellas were shortchanged to promote The Supremes — their Nowhere to Run To is a modern classic.

Walk on By is one of the loveliest songs ever recorded.

If there's anything that marks this era of music, it's how quickly it's changed. As doors open, they also close. 1964 saw the acme and crash of the surf guitar craze. Acts like The Ventures still steadily produce albums, but the rest of the scene has evaporated, again evolving into garage-y endeavors. The Chiffons, The Shirelles, The Ronettes, and many other girl bands have mostly dropped off the radar, Phil Spector's "Wall of Sound" being supplanted by the new raw aesthetic.

Folk to Folk Rock

Since the last wrap-up, folk music swelled to a crescendo and spawned a hybrid child with rock. In 1963, Bob Dylan hit it out of the park with his magnum opus, The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Though he continued in acoustic vein through 1964, by last year he had picked up an electric guitar, rasped his voice a bit more (yes, it was possible), and completely changed his sound. From Like a Rolling Stone to widely covered It's All Over Now Baby Blue, Dylan's harmonica-fused electrica has transformed the radio (whether you like it or not.)

Sure, there are still straight folk acts out there, including Joan Baez, Judy Collins, the superlative Donovan, and the recent Gordon Lightfoot, but rocking folk is where it's at.

To wit, The Byrds released two of the more exciting records last year, featuring the hits Mr. Tamborine Man and Turn, Turn, Turn. Those are good songs, although they have lots of others that I like as well or better. For instance: It's No Use, I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better, and It Won't be Wrong. The group's jangle and close harmony are really appealing, though their Dylan covers tend to be limp.

Then there's the appropriately named We Five whose You Were on My Mind was everywhere (and deservedly so).

We saw a great performance of it on Hollywood Palace last year!

Simon and Garfunkel released an acoustic folk album at the end of 1964 that was pretty good but went nowhere. Lorelei and I liked the song, The Sound of Silence, so much that we played it at coffee shops and gigs for a while. Apparently others shared our taste because the song got air play on a lot of college stations, and a Byrds-ified version came out in September, dominating the charts. The duo, which apparently had broken up, got back together to release a new album: The Sounds of Silence (natch). It's quite good, though a bit downbeat, and more than half the songs incorporate electric guitar.

And in the same realm are The Mamas and the Papas and the closely associated Barry McGuire, evolved from the purely folkishy New Christy Minstrels. The M & Ps' California Dreamin' is destined to be an anthem for the decade, and McGuire's controversal Eve of Destruction and his even more goose-bump inducing This Precious Time mark two of the absolute highlights for 1965.

And we got to see BOTH of them on Hullabaloo late last year!

Given the success of the folk-rock genre, one can expect that the remaining "pure" folk acts may go in a rockish direction. But not necessarily…

Psychedelic

There's a new kind of music surfacing, filled with unusual effects, exotic instruments, and the impact of recreational drug use. For want of a better word, and because this is what several outlets and bands are calling it, the genre is "Psychedelic Rock."

Of all the bands I listen to regularly, probably the one that emblemizes this new style is the London-based The Yardbirds. Originally an uninteresting blues band, with the departure of guitarist Eric Clapton (who left because they stopped playing blues — don't let the door hit you in the a…mplifier on the way out) the band became something really far out. For Your Love, Heart Full of Soul, Still I'm Sad, and especially the latest single, Shapes of Things, are filled with atypical movements, eerie vocals, and just plain weirdness (but good weirdness) that indicates music has long since departed Kansas.

Other bands have begun experimenting with psychedelica, for instance, the formerly folk-rockish The Byrds with their brand new single, Eight Miles High. The frenetic, almost unfocused guitar work, the Indian inspired riffs, and the haunting vocals spell a huge departure from last year's output. The Beatles haven't whole-hog embraced the new style (yet), but the use of sitar on their last album, particularly on Norwegian Wood, is definitely part and parcel with it. I understand even The Beach Boys and The Rolling Stones are flirting with psychelica.

Next you'll tell me these bands are actually partaking! Le gasp!

Where to?

I don't think it's as hard to guess where things will be in 1968 or 1969 compared to how incomprehensible 1966 would have been to 1963 me. I'm guessing music will get weirder and heavier on one side, along a concurrent thread of smoother, poppish stuff. We might see two different radio formats arise by the end of the decade: one devoted to the experimental rock sound and one emphasizing smooth crooning and harmonies.

I sometimes marvel at how much I'm enjoying all of these new sounds. Many folks of my generation still cling to their jazz or even their classical albums and look at the new music as so much junk.

But to my ears, this is what I've been waiting for my whole life. Bring it on!

If you want to hear all of this great music, then tune in to KGJ, our radio station! Nothing but the newest hits!

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[May 2, 1966] By Any Other Name (June 1966 IF)

May 2, 2021 David Levinson 6 Comments

by David Levinson

That which we call a purge

Successful revolutions often seem to devolve into vicious internal fighting as various factions turn on each other. Many of us are old enough to remember Stalin’s purges in 1937, and I’m sure we all remember learning about the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution when we were in school. Now it looks as though China may be gearing up for some purges of its own.

The five year plan of 1958, dubbed the Great Leap Forward, proved to be a disaster. The plan’s policies produced three years of famine, killing an untold number of people. As a result, Communist Party Chairman Mao Tse-tung stepped back and left the day-to-day running of the country to Liu Shao-ch’i and Teng Hsiao-ping. But Mao may be attempting to seize the reins of power once again.

Last November, an opera by a playwright named Wu Han was attacked as being subversive and critical of Mao’s leadership. On April 10th, the Communist Party issued a directive that condemned almost all literature written since the end of the revolution as “anti-party and anti-socialist.” Every author and poet is now considered suspect. Six days later, poet and journalist Teng T’o was chastised as counterrevolutionary in the official government newspaper. On the 18th, the new movement was given a name in the army’s daily newspaper: the Great Socialist Cultural Revolution. Now, President Liu Shao-ch’i, Mao’s chosen successor, has been publicly criticized as a capitalist and insufficiently supportive of Mao. I’d say the purges are about to begin. It remains to be seen just how bad they will be.

Chairman Mao Tse-tung (r.) and President Liu Shao-ch’i (l.) meet last year with Prince Sihanouk of Cambodia (in the dark jacket).

Smells, sweet and otherwise

This month’s IF offers a mixed bouquet. Overall, it’s visually disappointing, and a couple of the blossoms really could have used a different name.

This allegedly illustrates “The Weapons That Walked”. It doesn’t. Art by McKenna

Mandroid, by Piers Anthony, Robert E. Margroff and Andrew J. Offutt

In the forests of Oregon, the last two humans left alive, Bill Jackson and Tony Baker, finish killing the last android. The androids were created as servants, but were made to be stronger, faster and maybe smarter. Eventually, a war of extinction broke out when the androids asked for equality. Suddenly, the narrative is interrupted by a click, and strange voices which speak in the present/past/future ponder their failure in getting Man and Android to mate. And the story begins again from a little earlier. And so it goes, each time getting a little closer to success, but ending in failure. Finally, one of the strange voices concocts a dangerous plan. If it fails the fabric of TimeSpace will be/is/was ripped beyond repair.

Bill and Tony are observed from outside of time and space. Art by Gaughan

Mandroid sounds like a B-movie from a decade ago. And with three authors, you wouldn’t be at all surprised by something that schlocky. While Margroff only has the sub-par “Monster Tracks” to his credit, and I’ve not read either of the stories credited to Andy Offutt, Anthony (a Cele Lalli discovery) has produced some good work. Maybe it’s his hand that keeps all these cooks from spoiling the broth. This is a good story with a couple of flaws that keep it from reaching four stars. The first is the heavy-handed Biblical allusions at the end; the second, unless I’m reading something that isn’t there, is the veiled hints at Bill’s sexuality that promote some unpleasant stereotypes.

Three stars.

Fandom U. S. A., by Lin Carter

This month, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at fan clubs. Carter takes a quick look at some of the better known clubs on the east and west coasts and in the mid-west, and then talks about what happens at meetings, whether they be formal or informal. It’s a handy resource that could help a lot of people in the States to find a club near them and maybe encourage others to start a club. Plus, Carter finally has a handle on his voice.

Three stars.

The Weapons That Walked, by D. M. Melton

Explorer Joe Hanley’s landing craft fails on the way down to Kast III, and he’s forced to bail out. Unfortunately for Joe, the scouting group on Kast IV is in even worse shape, and the main ship has to go to their aid first. Joe is going to have to make do on his own for several days. Fortunately for Joe, he grew up among the redwoods of northern California and he’s one of the few nature-lovers left. He’s got a plan and this planet might be just what he’s looking for. But then the animals in the area start acting as though they’re being directed by some greater intelligence.

Joe encounters a local predator. Art by Adkins

From the title, you’d expect something from 1926, illustrated by Frank R. Paul, that Joe Ross would think twice about before reprinting it in Amazing. It’s better than that. This is Melton’s second story, following “The Fur People”. Like that story, it’s fairly unobjectionable and shows promise. Better, the female character actually has a name. Showing promise is all well and good, but Melton needs to improve if he wants to stick around.

A low three stars.

The Dream Machine, by Carol Easton

Harry Carver invents a machine that allows users to have extraordinarily real dreams of the things they want. There are consequences.

Easton is this month’s first-time author. I’m not impressed. There are one or two decently written passages, but that’s it. There aren’t really any characters, there’s no actual story (just a recounting of events) and it’s painfully obvious where things are going.

Two stars.

Sweet Reason, by Christopher Anvil

Dr. Garvin, a human psychologist, has come to observe the work of Centran military psychologist Major Poffis. The Centrans have astonishingly high success rates, achieved quickly. Garvin observes the Major treating a patient and the two discuss the theory and practice of psychology. Are human and Centran approaches compatible?

The Centran patient, prior to his treatment. Art by Nodel

Why wasn’t this in Analog? I’m sure I’ve read most of the criticisms of psychology as a science in Campbell’s editorial rants, and the quality is about what Campbell usually gets out of Anvil. A couple more stories like this and we can officially say that Campbell has ruined Anvil as a writer.

Two stars.

Earthblood (Part 3 of 4), by Keith Laumer and Rosel G. Brown

When last we left our hero, Roan’s ship had been disabled by a Niss warship, he had shot his mentor and now had to leave behind his only friend, Iron Robert, who can’t fit into a lifeboat. Under Roan’s leadership, the crew is able to board the Niss ship, only to find it uninhabited. It was the automatic defenses that destroyed Henry Dread’s ship. Fortunately, there is another Terran ship aboard for Roan and his crew to commandeer.

Roan’s first stop is his homeworld. He learns of his mother’s death, but is able to track down his family’s Yill servant. He makes his way to the shop where his parents bought his embryo and learns he was the only viable embryo out of several. He also finds out he came from an ITN experimental station on Alpha Centauri. That means a very long run through backwater territory to find out where he came from.

Nearly a decade later, he and his crew reach his destination. Roan would like to go on alone, but his three most loyal crewmen insist on accompanying him. Eventually, they reach naval headquarters on Nyurth. It turns out that the Imperial Terran Navy has grown decadent and is riven by factions. Most notably, Captain Trishinist believes Roan to be part of a large conspiracy to assassinate Admiral Starbird and seize control of the navy. The Admiral has grown old in service, but still has a plan and a hidden fleet to retake Earth. Time and politics have kept him from ever carrying it out. Now he places it all in Roan’s hands. That evening, Commodore Quex tries to arrest Roan, but Roan and his crew escape easily. To be concluded.

Roan leads with his left. I picked this one as representative of how bad the art is. Art by Wood

Well, this is a big improvement over the last two installments. It’s not without its flaws. When Roan learns that the family servant was originally part of the group sent to acquire his embryo, he fails to ask who hired them. There is also some confusion about time. The run to Alpha Centauri is nearly ten years, but Roan says it’s been four years since Dread’s death. In addition, there are inconsistencies in the relationships and communications between Naval HQ at the end and Rim HQ, which Dread worked for. Hopefully, those things will be cleared up by an editor before book publication.

Despite those flaws, this is a very good installment and gives me hope for the story as a whole. Laumer is much more present this time, in the various military plans and action sequences. But what makes it better is all Rosel Brown. Roan is greatly matured here, more introspective, and the story is improved for it.

Four stars.

By Mind Alone, by Larry Niven

In 1972, a group of UCLA students who have learned the mental power of teleportation and the professor who taught them are having a weekend party in Lake Arrowhead, up in the San Bernardino mountains. When the cigarettes run out, they can’t get more, because it’s Sunday and the stores are all closed, so their hostess teleports back to her parent’s home in Hermosa Beach. But when she arrives, she is stricken by an almost fatally high fever, which quickly diminishes. The professor puts a halt on all teleportation until they can figure out what happened. Have they violated some heretofore unknown law of the universe, or are they being punished for hubris?

Niven has given us a decent little problem story. He’s clearly inspired by Alfred Bester’s The Stars My Destination and, not to give too much away, if he’s right, then Gully Foyle would be nothing more than some soot and a thin smear of organic matter after his first jaunt. I think the “magic” method of teleportation weakens the story somewhat, but it’s still a fun read. I’d like to see how someone using a more scientific approach would solve the problem revealed here.

Three stars.

Summing Up

A rose, Shakespeare says, by any other name would smell as sweet. But if it were called a dungflower, might those who stopped to smell it find the scent sweeter, because of low expectations, or maybe not as sweet, since something with that name can’t possibly smell good? I find myself wondering how much my opinions of the first two stories are influenced by their B-movie and Gernsbackian titles. What we call a thing can make a difference, and boy do those stories need to be called something else.

On the art front, Galaxy Publishing needs some new blood. The sub-par comic book stylings of Wally Wood and Dan Adkins are a waste of space and ink. Jack Gaughan’s abstract elements and heavy blocks of black are often oppressive and rarely fit the mood of the story they illustrate. When Norman Nodel produces the best illustrations in your magazine, it’s time for a change.

Been a while since we’ve seen something from Blish.

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Magazine

[April 30, 1966] Ormazd and Ahriman (May 1966 Analog)

April 30, 2021 Gideon Marcus 3 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Good News and Bad News

The ancient Persians believed in two roughly co-equal deities: Ormazd, the God of Creation and Light, and Ahriman, the God of Destruction and Darkness. Unlike, say, the dual concept of the Chinese Yin and Yang, one was decidedly good and the other bad. Indeed, these twin deities may have inspired the near parity of the Christian God and Satan.

Apparently, these forces hold sway even today. This month's Analog started off so well, it bid fair to be a contender for best magazine of the month. Then about half way, the influence of Ahriman took ascendance, and the issue faded away to a truly dreadful ending. Ah well. I come not to bury John Campbell but to review him. At least we start with the good stuff…

Mixed Bag

by John Schoenherr

The Wings of a Bat, by Paul Ash

Anyone who's anyone knows that Paul Ash is really Pauline Ashwell, one of 1958's Hugo nominated Best New Writers — and boy, she's still just great.

Her latest tale stars a middle-aged doctor cum veterinarian stationed at Indication One on the shores of Lake Possible. Cycads and dinosaurs dominate the landscape, and with good reason: Indication One is based sometime in the Cretaceous! Against all of his instincts and inclinations, said doctor is tasked with raising a baby pteranadon named Fiona.

Part country vet story, part mining camp adventure, this tale is by turns and sometimes simultaneously witty and exciting. I loved it so much, I immediately read it a gain, this time aloud to the family as their bedtime story on two consecutive nights.

If this doesn't get nominated for the Hugo and/or the new SFWA Nebula awards, there's something wrong with the universe. Five stars!

Call Him Lord, by Gordon R. Dickson

by Kelly Freas

Centuries from now, when Earth is just one of many hundreds of human planets, the crown prince of the Empire is dispatched to humanity's cradle for a tour. One man is tasked to be his bodyguard, escorting the arrogant man-child as he rides, wenches, and bullies his way across the countryside. But is this a mere sight-seeing tour…or a test?

While the story is slightly overdrenched in testerone and stoic manliness, Dickson is an excellent writer and his tale compels. I dug it. Four stars.

The Meteorite Miners , by Ralph A. Hall, M.D.

Earth has been the site of countless meteor impacts, many of them secondary strikes of ejecta loosed from prior events. What we learn from the mineral concentrations at these craters can tell us a lot about the primordial history of our planet…and even the universe.

It's a fascinating topic, and it should have gripped me, but the presentation was a bit too abstruse and disjointed to hold my attention. It took me several sessions to finish.

Three stars.

Titanium – The Wonder Metal (uncredited, but probably John W. Campbell, jr.

The piece is followed by another non-fiction article, this time a more lay-oriented essay on titanium, what makes it great, and what made it so hard to use economically.

It's fine. Three stars.

Two-Way Communication, by Christopher Anvil

by Kelly Freas

When an inventor develops a universal receiver that allows the owner to transmit right into an announcer's microphone, chaos ensues. Is it the ultimate democracy or a recipe for anarchy?

In this cute story, Anvil argues the former. With constant and immediate input (and censure) the vast wastelands of radio and television are made verdant with quality programming. The author forgets two important factors: 1) most TV and much radio isn't live these days, so interruptions at the source wouldn't have as much effect as depicted — this isn't 1951 after all; 2) people are jerks — interruptions would be constant and annoying.

Still, it was not unpleasant reading. Call it a low 3 stars. Ormazd and Ahriman are wrestling, but neither has ascendance. Yet.

Under the Wide and Starry Sky…, by Joe Poyer

by Leo Summers

In this edge-of-the-future story (indeed, the depicted Gemini 9 mission is scheduled to occur less than three weeks from now), one astronaut is lost during an extravehicular jaunt. His partner must use all of his wits to rescue him before their oxygen and fuel run out.

Joe Poyer has written a couple of other stories for Analog, both of which showed a fair ability when it came to depicting technology but little talent for characterization or detailed plot. Starry Sky plays to the author's strengths, presenting a nice little Marooned-esque tale in a vivid fashion. It ends quickly enough that you don't mind where it's undeveloped.

Three stars. There are stars of light among the black sky.

The Alchemist, by Charles L. Harness

by Kelly Freas

Ah, here's where it all goes to Hell. This long, flip, utterly unengaging tale manages to combine alchemy, psionics, making the Russians look stupid, and making scientists look stupid, all in one sure-to-please-the-editor package.

This is truly an example of Ahrimanic possession as the last story by the author was one I liked very much. But The Alchemist? One star. Feh.

Doing the math

Geraldine "Gerry" Myers, mathematician at the Mission Planning and Analysis Division at the Manned Space Craft Center in Houston

As might be expected from such a violent collision of positive and negative forces, the whole thing ends up about a wash: 3.1 stars. This puts it above IF and New Worlds (3 stars) as well as Worlds of Tomorrow (2.6)

The May 1966 Analog finishes below Impulse (3.2), Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.5), and the astonishing, but mostly reprints, Fantastic (4). Thus, Analog is the dead median for this month!

Nevertheless, it has contributed two stories to one of the best months for 4 and 5 star material since the Journey began. You could fill three big magazines with nothing but excellent stuff.

Women did so-so in April, only writing ~6% of new material, though Judy Merril had a good reprint in Impulse.

And so, the battle between good and bad (quality) continues. Will Ormazd be ascendant next month? Or will Ahriman have the final laugh? Stay tuned…

[Don't miss the next (and FINAL) episode of The Journey Show:

1966 and the Law — smut, marriage, voting rights, justice, and more. With Erica Frank and Ethan Marcus! With special musical guest, Nanami!

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[April 29, 1966] Young and Bold: Photographer David Bailey

April 29, 2021 Gwyn Conaway Leave a comment

by Gwyn Conaway

David Bailey's Box of Pin-Ups was released in 1964 in the United Kingdom but never made its way (officially) across the pond.

Today has gifted me with a much-desired treat: a suite of photographs by the infamous David Bailey titled Box of Pin-Ups. This is a defining collection of photography, and I’m saddened by its lack of accessibility here in the United States. It has taken all year to find such a treasure! Let’s delve, dear readers, into the work of the defining fashion photographer of our time.

From left to right: Reggie, Charlie, and Ronnie Kray. Why is Box of Pin-Ups not available in the United States, you ask? Why, none other than Lord Snowden, of course. He bemoaned the fact that the Kray brothers (above) are subjects of Bailey’s lens. True, the twins Ronnie and Reggie Kray are crime lords in the East End, but history proves time and time again that one’s virtue is not necessarily the trait that defines an era, nor one’s importance in capturing it. History finds both the hero and the villain equally fascinating.

David Bailey is an intriguing example of the working class artist rocketing to fame in the Swinging London scene. Suffering from both dyslexia and dyspraxia, a young Bailey had to seek out creative outlets as he completely and utterly abandoned his schooling. In fact, he left school when he was only fifteen years old, bounced around from job to job, and served in Singapore in the Royal Air Force. It was during this time that he bought his first camera, a Rolleiflex.

The Rolleiflex 2.8E is what I suspect his first camera to have been, released in 1956.

In 1960, a mere year into his career as a photographer, he began working with British Vogue, but it wasn’t until 1962 that he caught my eye. Vogue was beginning to promote younger fashions with a more modern feel, you see, and that work was to be done with a Rolleiflex. The camera is known for capturing movement and spontaneity, a must-have when photographing guerilla-style on the busy, gritty streets of Manhattan. So David Bailey and Jean Shrimpton, the Face of the 60’s herself, were tasked with a bare bones production. No hair or makeup artists. No lighted sets. Just the two of them, the photographer and the model, capturing what Bailey coined “Young Idea Goes West.”

Note the spontaneity of the images and how the fashions from Jaeger and Susan Small are caught in the flurry of New York life. British Vogue’s Lady Clare Rendlesham was reticent to feature this sort of realism in her magazine, which up until this point had focused on the aristocratic high polish of the 1950s.

I was so impressed with the journey of the series, seeing a young woman explore the wiles and wonders of the Big Apple. Truly, New York City is a chaotic and bustling town that is difficult to capture without having been there, walking down the streets at a clip. Bailey’s attention to this chaos is evident in the series, showcasing his mastery of the lens and celebrating his youth and boldness.

Bailey uses reflections in glass display windows and street poles to frame Shrimpton in the chaos of the city, while also capturing the candid reactions of local pedestrians as a way of framing Shrimpton’s role in this journey: a young woman full of wonder and wanderlust that can’t help but gain the attention of those around her.

Box of Pin-Ups is similarly youthful and bold. In fact, I’d venture to say that this is a seminal collection of photographs for more than one reason.

Firstly, a collection of photographs has never been sold in this manner before. It proves to me without a doubt that photographers of our times are cultural flames just like the models, fashion designers, and musicians they capture. I suspect we will see other photographers follow suit in the years and decades to come.

Secondly, the figures captured are not just the stars and starlets of our youth revolution. The collection includes such artists as Cecil Beaton, the famed war photographer, Rudolph Nureyev, the exceptional ballet danseur, and David Puttnam, an advertising executive. Bailey’s Box of Pin Ups captures the provocateurs of our times, the Swinging 60s, regardless of whether they’re already in the spotlight. His collection of movers and shakers is a look inward at the people inspiring our changing times.

From left to right: Cecil Beaton, David Puttnam, and Rudolph Nureyev.

However, the most interesting thing about the collection is actually distilled in the commentary of Francis Wyndham, who has included notes in the collection for each photograph. Wyndham astutely claims that “in the age of Mick Jagger, it is the boys who are the pin-ups.” This statement couldn’t hit the mark any more clearly than in Bailey’s collection. Only four of the subjects, out of thirty-six, are women.

This prompted me to look at the collection with even more sophistication. Bailey states it baldly in the title Box of Pin-Ups and in looking at his figures from that point of view, it’s clear that the male subjects are displaying their fashion choices – ergo their identities – with pride and vigor. This attention to vanity, as it’s often coined, is usually reserved for women’s modeling, fashion, and advertisement.

From left to right: The Beatles member John Lennon and record producer Andrew Oldham. Notice the unapologetic celebration of men's beauty here, in the delicate fanning on John Lennon's eyelashes and the bishop sleeve of Oldham's blouse.

Which invites the question: Has the arrival of sensations such as The Beatles, The Kinks, and Mick Jagger broken open a new era of male complexity? Since the early nineteenth century, men have been relegated to a very narrow range of roles. In fact, there was a concerted effort after the French Revolution to separate our material and social culture by gender: textiles, foods, furniture, colors, patterns, occupations, hobbies, education… And while women have been fighting these conventions for time immemorial, men have been conditioned to endure. Great minds, from Paul Gaugin to Oscar Wilde, have challenged these limitations, no doubt, but they have never been seen as the mainstream. Now, however, I see the potential for these defiant men to change our future. This fever our youth is currently experiencing… I hope it becomes much more than just a passing flu.

Thank you, David Bailey, for framing his answer to my question in the outlines of a beautiful box!

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 26, 1966] Inner Space, Romance and Religion Impulse and New Worlds, May 1966

April 26, 2021 Mark Yon 8 Comments

by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

Never let it be said that Science Fiction is always lightweight stuff. Both magazines are tackling big issues this month.

We’re back to fuzzy covers in this month's Impulse – don’t forget, “The NEW Science Fantasy”. It’s OK but not the best. It’s another Keith Roberts, more of which in a minute.

The Editorial this month has the Editor Kyril still meditating over the genre. Readers still like stories about other humans, he suggests – it is rare for humans to like stories that are truly alien – presumably a response to the Merril story started last month and concluding in this. (More later.)

To this month’s actual stories.

Seventh Moon , by John Rankine

A debut author, I think. When spaceship Interstellar Two-Nine goes missing on its approach to the ‘polite’ planet of Bromius, Dag Fletcher of the Inter-Galactic Organisation goes to investigate. With such a set-up, I suspect that this will become an ongoing series of some sort. It’s typical Space Opera and paradoxically remarkably mundane, even down to the repeated descriptions of how gorgeous all the women are, with the exception of the lead female character, who is deliberately annoying. 3 out of 5.

Pavane: Brother John, by Keith Roberts

In this third story from Roberts’ alternate History, where Elizabeth I was assassinated in 1588, we are given the chance to see the effect of religion upon this alternate life. As this is a world dominated by the Roman Catholic faith, it is an interesting perspective on what we have read so far.

Brother John is an Adhelmian monk who is given the task of recording, for the benefit of Rome, all stages in the proceedings of The Court of Father Hieronymous, Witchfinder in General to Pope John. He begins to dare to question the practices of the Church during a version of the Inquisition, and is so affected by what he sees that he begins to lead a revolt against the Church. The ending is rather enigmatic, in that in a crowd of acolytes Brother John experiences a vision showing an alternate future, a more positive one than that experienced by the masses. Leaving on a boat to Rome, the boat capsizes with no one to be found. This development of this series continues to impress.

Well, it’s taken a bit longer than it has in our world, but it seems that some sort of religious reformation is beginning. It’ll be interesting to see where this social upheaval leads, and I’ll read the next story to see if this idea evolves further. 4 out of 5.

The Pace That Kills by Alistair Bevan

From an alternative past to an alternate future, though from the same writer, because Alistair is actually Keith Roberts, who we have just read!

The two stories however couldn’t be more different. The Pace That Kills is evidently inspired by the newly introduced 70-miles-per-hour speed limit on Britain’s motorways. It is a world where this obsession with speed is taken to its limit. The government have politicized speed limits and uses black boxes in the vehicles to control speed in most people’s vehicles, but rebellious types adapt their vehicles, deliberately race each other and flagrantly ignore the limits.

Johnny Morris and his friend Tinker are witness to a seemingly fatal accident. They rescue a girl and meet the officious Masterwarden of Sector Twelve in West London, Horace J. Bigge. Afterwards, we discover that they work for Peter Hanssen, the leader of the Driver Party, for there is an ongoing political war between the Motorists, known as Drivers, and the Pedestrians, called Peds.

The survivor of the accident, Moira Alice Kelly, is taken to hospital, interrogated by Bigge and sentenced to torture and death. Despite Nanssen’s wishes, Morris and Tinker decide to attempt a rescue. It doesn’t go well, but Moira is released. Bigge is also captured and there follows a bizarre interrogation after which Bigge is set free, but dies by being run down on the road. Moira enthusiastically explains how she became a motor addict to Nanssen. They begin a relationship, only to find that Kelly is an undercover Warden. The story finished unconvincingly.

This is a really mixed-up story. Part adventure, part satire, in the end it is not a good example of either. It is generally uneven in pace and plot, veering between unsubtle satire and making a serious point. There’s a huge clumsy dollop of ‘telling’ the reader things in the middle as well.

Generally, things are usually ramped up to excess throughout this overlong story, which diminishes it overall. Difficult to believe that these two stories are from the same writer, which may be the point of the pseudonym. 2 out of 5.

The Run by Chris Priest

Something to freshen the palate a little now. This is a debut story in Impulse from someone who has made quite a name for himself through his critical comments in recent months – it was Chris that Kyril wrote an open letter response to in his editorial of Science Fantasy back in January. He is also currently a regular critic in the British Science Fiction Association’s in-house magazine, Vector.

With this in mind, it is interesting to read some of Chris’s fiction rather than his critical work. It is OK but nothing special. Senator Robbins, driving in his car, is summoned back to his base in an emergency. As he gets closer to the headquarters the journey becomes increasingly fraught as the road is surrounded by angry jeering teenagers known as Juvies.

Clearly tapping into the feeling of unease that many older people have about teenagers of today, the gist of the story is that the Juvies are going to take over the world, incite rioting and basically destroy law and order, and that this is the start of the revolution. There’s some nice touches, but the ending is annoyingly enigmatic. This is clearly a beginner’s work, but I’d be interested to see more of this from Chris. 3 out of 5.

Cry Martian, by Peter L Cave

A story of little Timmy who tells his mother that he has found a Martian camp whilst playing out in the woods. The twist in this brief story is that he is on Mars. Short but fairly effective, if forgettable.
3 out of 5.

Homecalling (Part 2 of 2) by Judith Merril

Back to the second and final part of Judith Merril’s story. Last time we found nine-year old Dee and her younger brother Petey stranded on a planet and taken in by the insect-like Lady Daydanda.

In this second part we read of further attempts to communicate and understand each other. Dee learns to translate the thoughts Daydanda is telepathically putting in her head. In return, Daydanda learns more about the humans. When Dee and Petey return to their rocket, Dee allows one of Daydanda’s sons to enter the burned-out spaceship with them, and through the son Daydanda can communicate further. She discovers what ‘machines’ are, that the place they are in is ‘a spaceship’ and that it can travel to places beyond their world.

Daydanda’s concern for the children and willingness to care for them is made more difficult by Dee’s seemingly illogical desire to be with her Mother. The aliens eventually are allowed access to the cockpit where both of her parents are dead, and much of the last part of the story shows us Daydanda’s logical, if erroneous, reasoning for why Dee does not want to see her Mother dead in the Spaceship. Intriguingly, the ending feels rather creepy, although I suspect the idea is meant to be a happy one, where Petey and Dee are willingly left in the presence of the Mother – for now.

As I said last month, even though there are issues of this being a reprint, it is a great story. Merril’s description of the aliens, and the thought processes they go through to make their decisions and choices is wonderful – but, of course, really it is the humans who are the aliens. 4 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

Mainly novellas again this month. The Merril finishes well, and may be the best thing in the magazine, although I am still annoyed about it being a reprint. I continued to enjoy the Pavane series, although I know that it is not for everyone and this latest installment will not change that view, I’m afraid. It’s intriguing to read Chris Priest’s fiction as opposed to his letter-writing. But then we have what even Kyril referred to last month as “typically Bonfiglioni space-fillers”.

I’m almost tempted to add the Rankine here as one, though that may be uncharitable. It’s OK, if just… boring. The Cave story Cry Martian tells us an old trope in a new way – but nothing new, there. However, The Pace that Kills is just awful. I suspect it has been there a while waiting to be used as “space-filler”.

So: a mixture of good and bad this month, leading to a lower-than-average, certainly of late, issue. With the dominance of new Associate Editor Keith Roberts this month, this may be a little worrying.

Onto this month’s New Worlds

The Second Issue At Hand

In contrast to Impulse, Mike Moorcock has opted for shorter stories with more variety this month. He’s also promised to tackle that perennial (and most touchy!) topic of religion.

In the Editorial, Moorcock warms up by tackling the topic of the supernatural. He refers to a new book about it, quoting its point that the supernatural may be connected to the natural, or normal, in a person’s mind, and that Ballard and Philip K. Dick write about this in different ways. The final paragraphs suggest we should see more sf incorporating drugs to explore this new territory.

My issue with this is that you may need to take drugs to understand such stories. As I don’t partake – beyond the odd cup of tea! – such stories tend to leave me cold.

And talking of stories, to the stories!

Illustration by James Cawthorn

Pilot Plant by Bob Shaw

Here’s the welcome return of Bob Shaw, last seen in these pages back in October 1965 with …And Isles Where Good Men Lie.

Whilst involved in an aeroplane test flight accident, aerospace engineer Tony Garnett hears a voice say, “Get me out of here Xoanon.” When he is recovering in hospital, he tries to work out who Xoanon is and where the voice came from. He contacts his deputy Ian Dermott to cancel the firm’s current project, a flying wing for civil aviation. Four months later, Garnett is back to work but finds that, despite his wishes, work has been continued in secret. His attempt to meet a worker involved in the project is unsuccessful – the man faints – but Garnett finds that the poor unconscious worker has recently been sent away on a special training course.

He takes his nurse Janice Vickers away on a weekend but really goes to find the place in Harlech, Wales, where this training course has been held. As Garnett gets near he realises he has been there before but has strangely forgotten about it. The date with Janice doesn’t go well, and Garnett ends up in Janice’s chalet whilst she ends up in his. This is a fatal mistake, as during the night there is an explosion in Garnett’s chalet where he would have been sleeping and Janice dies. The last words she mumbles to Tony are also about Xoanon.

Things now get stranger. Garnett is told by the police that the explosion was caused by a meteorite strike. After being interrogated by the police Garnett returns to the factory where he is told that a wing is being built for a customer by the name of Xoanon, who is one of a group of extraterrestrials. They wish to use the wing to collect something lost off the coast of Wales.

Dermott tells Tony that he has been manipulated by Xoanon from the start, but the accident meant that a metal plate was put in his skull which broke the contact between him and Xoanon. Garnett is shot by Dermott. Surviving this, Tony captures a test plane about to take off and attempts to rendezvous with Xoanon’s spaceship hidden in the upper atmosphere.

Tony meets Xoanon, who in Bond-villain fashion explains all to Garnett. Garnett also meets Janice again, because – surprise, surprise! – she wasn’t killed, but is now in the body of an alien. Tony decides not to return to Earth.

It’s good to see Bob back, but this is relatively mediocre stuff. The setting’s good, the prose too, but the plot got wilder and wilder until it lost credibility for me. The ending is particularly weak, as there are elements seemingly key to the plot that are not explained – do the aliens retrieve their device? – and the abrupt end of the story means that we do not find what happens next.

I think Bob’s trying to write a contemporary thriller with a science-fictional element, but it didn’t quite work. 3 out of 5.

The Ultimate Artist, by Richard A. Gordon

We’ve met Gordon before with his story A Question of Culture back in Science Fantasy in December 1965. We’re treading similar ideas here, as this story is about what happens when an Artist named Zacharias decides to retire. The story is told by a narrator who has spent much of their life following Zacharias as he travels across the galaxy. When Zacharias performs for the last time, there are consequences for the narrator.

There’s some nice descriptions of what it is like to be enraptured by a performance. It is about the joy of the experience and fan-worship. Rather like seeing The Beatles or The Rolling Stones as they retire, I guess. 3 out of 5.

Rumpelstiltskin, by Daphne Castell

Daphne has been popping up with some regularity in New Worlds of late. This time she retells the old fairytale of a princess locked away in a tower from the perspective of Rumpelstiltskin. Well written but not really memorable. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by James Cawthorn

Unification Day, by George Collyn

George Collyn was last seen in last month’s issue waxing lyrical over the work of Kurt Vonnegut. Here we’re seeing his fiction. I quite liked the set-up of this one, in an alternate history where Britain has been unified with France. This is emphasised by the point that although the story is set in Scotland, there’s lots of wine, pastries and Camembert around!

The narrator tells us of what happens when he and his wife go to stay with his posher brother-in-law for the celebrations of the 150th anniversary of Unification Day. As the narrator is an advovate of English Home Rule and the brother-in-law is a Francophile, as you might expect it doesn’t go well. Much of the story here shows us how the British are treated as underdogs and lesser citizens, how the language is down-graded in society and British culture is derided. The consequence of this is the story-teller is determined to continue his fight in the future. An interesting version of the traditional Scottish – English independence debate, which makes valid points, but then doesn’t seem to go anywhere. 3 out of 5.

Secret Weapon by E. C. Tubb

The return of an old-school regular. Students from different planets begin at an Earth academy. Armitage is an unpleasant student who finds it difficult to fit in, and reacts violently to what he sees. He graduates – eventually. However, the reason for his behaviour is revealed at the end of the story.

This is a story with an almost Heinlein-like tone, which may wrongfoot the reader. It doesn’t show humans in a good light, though. Nicely written, even if it is a one-trick kind of tale. 3 out of 5.

Fountaineer, by David Newton

This month’s lyrical story, about a fountain in a village in Italy and its creator. Lots of lush prose which otherwise has little point. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by Douthwaite

Fifth Person Singular, by Peter Tate

A story of awareness from different perspectives. An alien shows us his perception of his world. When he meets Ahn, he then discovers that there is more than one way of looking at things. Appropriately inner space, this one. A romance that takes navel-gazing to another dimension. 3 out of 5.

A Man Like Prometheus, by Bob Parkinson

A more typical romance story now. A space pioneer returns from “Out There” to meet Rosamund, his Earthbound love, after their careers and a genetic disorder have kept them apart. I like what the writer is trying to do here – romance in a SCIENCE FICTION magazine?! The problem is that it’s not that well done and comes across as somewhat mawkish and maudlin. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by Douthwaite

Girl, by Michael Butterworth

A person visits an old barn filled with ancient and decaying artifacts. Lots of descriptions of things in a dream-like state. The twist in the tale is that this story is after some sort of an apocalypse which they have caused. Lots of lyrical allegory which tries to mean more than it does. 3 out of 5.

Clean Slate, by Ralph Nicholas

Stranded, John Sumpter attempts to fix a broken-down spaceship without help or spare parts. It seems impossible. Expecting the end, Sumpter and his friend Orlando swap tales about their pasts. They experience some kind of cosmic event, which allows them to fix their ship and go home. Unconvincing. 3 out of 5.

A Different Kick – Or How to Get High Without Going into Orbit, by John Brunner

After last month’s strange serial, here’s John Brunner in non-fiction mode. This is an abridged transcript of an address given by Brunner at the London Worldcon last year. It was mentioned by both editors after the event as a landmark speech and caused a bit of a stir at the Worldcon, I gather. I assume for that reason it is given here.

Reading it, I can see why. Brunner examines what sf readers like and don’t like about non-sf novels, and how non-sf writers have managed to be successful in the genre. It’s well thought out and makes valid points using lots of references to different author’s work. At the end Brunner echoes Moorcock’s ideas that sf needs to move away from its pulp origins and be something new and different if it is to inspire and succeed in the future. A “Look forward, not back” kinda thing. It is well done, but is nothing new to regular readers.

Letters and Book Reviews

Assistant Editor Langdon Jones tackles one book in depth this month – Dreams and Dreaming by Norman MacKenzie. The reason given for this is that it gives the reader an insight into Fantasy writing by explaining the workings of the inner mind. Really though it seems to be a justification for all those stories we are currently reading about visions and dream-states – there’s some in this month’s issue, for example.

James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock, don’t forget!) covers a number of story collections in some detail. The Best from Fantasy & SF Volumes 11 and 13 come out of this dissection pretty well, although Colvin feels that Volume 11 is better than Volume 13. By contrast, Lloyd Biggle’s All the Colours of Darkness is “a weary book”. Walter M Miller’s Conditionally Human collects three “above average” novellas from the fifties. Daniel F Galouye’s latest, The Lost Perception, is “unsuccessful”.

After being absent for a while, the Letters pages this month are very entertaining, as Moorcock answers criticism of his "attack" on religion in his Editorial of Issue 158 (January 1966). Too long to quote, but the responses on both sides are fulsome and interesting.

Summing up New Worlds

Once again Moorcock has gone for breadth rather than depth here this month. This means that there’s more to like and the range of material is good, but overall the issue feels a little underwhelming. The much-vaunted Bob Shaw story disappointed, for example. There’s nothing here that is not entertaining, but at the same time there’s not a lot here worth remembering.

Summing up overall

Once again, we have the two magazines showing different aspects of the genre. Whereas Impulse has gone for less stories and more depth, New Worlds impresses with its range.

This makes the choice difficult in that we are rather comparing oranges with apples. It also doesn’t help that neither magazine truly impresses this month. They are not bad, it is just that we’ve had better from both editors. Each issue has its own disappointment.

In the end I’ve opted for Impulse as the better, although I could easily see other readers opt for New Worlds, for the reasons I have given above.

With all this talk of religion, I see the title of John Baxter's novel in next month's New Worlds with a certain degree of irony…

Should be interesting! Until the next…

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 24, 1966] Playtime’s Over (Doctor Who: The Celestial Toymaker)

April 24, 2021 Jessica Holmes Leave a comment

By Jessica Holmes

We all have a different idea of the concept of ‘fun’. To me, ‘fun’ is a trip to Blackpool Pleasure Beach. I like a good rollercoaster. To others, ‘fun’ is watching a game of cricket. Strange but true. And to one peculiar individual, ‘fun’ is kidnapping people and making them play banal playground games under threat of eternal imprisonment and/or death.

To each one's own, I suppose.

Let’s take a look at The Celestial Toymaker.

THE CELESTIAL TOYROOM

As an aside before we begin, I am going to have to have a good look at my TV antenna. It was on the blink for much of the serial, so there’s every chance there are visual details in the plot that I may have missed.

We pick up where we left off last time: the TARDIS has landed in an uncertain time and place, and the Doctor is nowhere to be seen.

He's not gone walkabout, as you might expect. We can still hear his voice, but he’s otherwise completely undetectable, both invisible and intangible. Unable to operate his ship, the Doctor decides to leave the TARDIS to investigate. What could have caused this?

Well, I have an idea. Enter the Celestial Toymaker.

Now, this might not be on purpose, but considering he’s dressed in the (rather splendid) garb of an Imperial Chinese bureaucrat, I think it’s worth pointing out the use of the word ‘celestial’. Besides the more obvious meaning, it's also an old term for Chinese people, and not a very polite one either. It originally stemmed from Imperial China being also called the ‘Celestial Empire’, and so people from China who came to other countries were called ‘celestials’. It’s fallen out of fashion in more recent years, and is now considered to be more of a slur. Of course, the writer might not have meant anything by it, but with the Toymaker being dressed the way he is I would think it prudent to have a little more care in choice of words. Or choice of fashion.

It’s not the most egregious bit of language in this serial, but it seemed worth discussing.

The Toymaker does certainly live up to the latter part of his name, his realm littered with a variety of playthings. And that's not all he can do. In an act of sadism against the viewer, he gives his clown dolls the spark of life.

The Doctor suddenly reappears upon exiting the TARDIS, and ignores Dodo’s excellent advice that they should get back in and leave. Then again, if he did the sensible thing, most episodes would finish before they even started.

Steven sees visions of his memories in the chest of a big wind-up toy robot (it makes about as much sense as everything to follow), and the Doctor realises that they’re in the realm of the Celestial Toymaker.

That clears that up.

And now for the fun and games! The Toymaker spirits the Doctor away, leaving the others to get acquainted with the obviously evil clowns. I’m not afraid of clowns but I don’t much care for them in general, and these two seem designed to push my buttons.

The Toymaker is bored, you see, and his guests are his new playmates, willing or no. Steven and Dodo are going to have to complete a series of challenges if they ever want to find the TARDIS again, and they’re going to have to do it before the Doctor completes a 1023-move puzzle. Oh, and if they lose, they’ll be trapped here as a toy… forever.

The Toymaker sets the Doctor off on his puzzle, a 10-piece version of a puzzle more commonly known as the Tower Of Hanoi, but here referred to as the Trilogic Game. How it’s played is not important, but we’re subjected to an explanation anyway.

Meanwhile, the clowns set up an obstacle course for the others. They’re going to have to make their way through without falling down, and they’re going to do it blindfolded.

The clowns go first, the male one (Joey) running the course as the other (Clara) guides him using a buzzer.

The Doctor tries to communicate with his companions and warn them that the Toymaker’s minions are likely to cheat, but the Toymaker cuts him off. As punishment, he dematerialises most of the Doctor's body, except for his hand, which he needs to move the pieces.

Back in the other room, the clowns finish the course, and Steven and Dodo have their turn. It’s hard enough for Dodo to guide Steven using buzzer signals in the first place, but Joey makes it even harder as he moves bits of the course around.

They’re also extremely annoying. I cannot overstate how annoying they are. Clara, for some reason, keeps eggs in her hair. That’s just plain unsanitary. Joey won’t stop tooting his horn (not a euphemism), greatly irritating Steven and also me. Then there’s Clara’s incessant giggling.

I’m just saying if Steven snapped and knocked their heads together, I wouldn’t blame him in the slightest.

I hope they’re not meant to be funny.

Distracted and misled, Steven ends up right back where he started, only for Dodo to discover that Joey’s blindfold is see-through. The clowns cheated! The pair force the clowns to run the course again, determined that they will have a fair game. Joey has a harder time of it this go around, and when he stumbles and falls, Clara slumps lifelessly over the controls, and a police box appears. Alas, it’s not the real TARDIS.

Steven and Dodo find a slip of paper with a riddle, and exit through the rear of the fake TARDIS, the clowns reverting to their original state as they leave.

Before the closing credits roll, the riddle flashes up on screen. I had hoped that this was so viewers could make a note of it and ponder the solution at home, but no. It’s pointless. I spent precious minutes of my life contemplating this, and for what?

Four legs,
No feet,
Of arms no lack,
It carries no burden on its back.
Six deadly sisters,
Seven for choice,
Call the servants without voice.

THE HALL OF DOLLS

The Doctor continues his game, and Steven shows off his problem-solving capabilities when he comes to a door that won’t budge. He tries everything: pushing, shoving, hitting, more pushing. Nothing seems to work.

Dodo tries pulling, and voila! The door opens.

The Doctor tries again to communicate with his companions, so the Toymaker takes his voice. Looks like Mr. Hartnell’s off on his holidays.

Steven and Dodo soon meet their next challengers: the King and Queen of Hearts. How very Lewis Caroll.

With the arrival of the King and Queen comes a pertinent question: are these challengers entirely products of the Toymaker’s imagination, or are they people in the exact same predicament as Steven and Dodo? Steven’s firmly in the former camp, whereas Dodo is in the latter. As for me? Well, I’m still mulling it over.

There’s also a Knave and a Joker but they’re not very important.

The group find two throne rooms, one with four thrones and the other with three. Seven in total. Seven for choice, in fact. They quickly realise that only one of these thrones is safe to sit on, and they have to find it to escape. But how to tell which is safe? Fortunately, there are a few cupboards in which Steven and Dodo find a number of life-sized dolls. The King and Queen catch up to them, and Dodo, seeing them as potential allies rather than rivals, explains that they can use the dolls to test the chairs.

Steven chastises her against talking to the pretend people, which the King and Queen don’t much appreciate. Each taking a doll, the King and Queen go to try the thrones in the other room, deciding to pick a chair to test at random.

And then the King recites Eeny Meeny Miney Mo. Specifically, the old version which unfortunately is still quite popular. For those not in the know, the old version contains an extremely racist word I shall not be repeating here. Suffice to say it begins with the letter N. Sadly, there are many in Britain who wouldn’t think twice about using that word.

I can’t claim to be surprised, as the BBC is no stranger to racist programming. An obvious example of that would be The Black-And-White Minstrel Show, which has been running on the BBC for a good long while now and doesn't seem likely to stop any time soon.

It just saddens me to think that there may be millions of British children out there who have just been told that this is an acceptable word to use. How long before it enters their vocabulary?

Words have power, and when one's words are being broadcast to around eight million viewers, as a writer one has a responsibility to choose them carefully.

That's about all I feel able to say on the matter, so I shall press on.

Picking a throne, the King throws a doll onto the seat, only for it to get its head rattled off.

In the other room, Dodo and Steven are arguing over whether they should be helping the King and Queen, as the royals believe there to be only four dolls, with Steven keeping the knowledge of the other three to himself.

The question of their humanity comes up again, with Steven asserting that they’re tools of the Toymaker, so the pair have to look out for themselves. Normally I would side with Dodo, who thinks they’re innocent victims of the Toymaker, but I am inclined to agree with Steven here. They just don’t strike me as real people. They’re archetypes. They’re a lot like their counterparts from Alice In Wonderland, with the timid, submissive King and the dominant Queen. It's a bit of a sexist dynamic and all.

Dodo and Steven try a couple of chairs with no luck, watched by the Knave. The Knave doesn’t do an awful lot, though he does go back to check up on the King, who (supposedly) jokingly offers him a seat.

The King runs out of dolls to use, so he and the Queen return to Steven and Dodo, where they learn about the additional dolls after trying to force the Fool to be their guinea pig.

Well, even if they are real people, they’re real prats.

Taking the last dolls with them, the King and Queen leave Steven and Dodo with only one chair left in the room, and nothing to test them with.

Dodo sits down… and it’s not the right chair.

There’s a tense moment where it seems that Dodo is about to die by freezing solid, but Steven manages to help her get free, moments from death.

All’s not lost yet, however. Back in the other room, the King and Queen run into difficulties when the Joker refuses to be their guinea pig. Deciding that if they’re going to go, they’ll go together, they choose a seat and both sit down. Nothing happens. It seems they got lucky.

Or not.

Steven and Dodo enter just as the chair collapses under them. Not that lucky.

The Doctor’s companions use the last chair, and another fake TARDIS appears. The Toymaker gives them a ring on the TARDIS phone, and offers them a clue to their next game, and a way out, through a passage lined with life-sized ballerina dolls.

This week’s clue is:

Hunt the key, to fit the door
That leads out on the dancing floor,
Then escape the rhythmic beat,
Or you’ll forever, tap your feet.

I don’t know what annoys me more: the bizarre comma placement or the fact that these aren’t actually riddles that the audience can solve. Well, this isn’t even a riddle really, more rhyming instructions.

Why are they showing these at the end of the episodes?

THE DANCING FLOOR

Past the ballerinas, Steven and Dodo stumble upon a kitchen, where they meet some more of the Toymaker’s playthings, Mrs Wiggs the cook and Sgt. Rugg. These two are supposed to be funny, I think.

Per the rhyming instructions, Steven and Dodo start searching for the key to the dancing floor, which is just next door. The Sgt. and Mrs Wiggs’ antics quickly irritate Steven, who manages to hold his temper at the urging of Dodo. Again, I really can’t blame him. There are few things more annoying than an unfunny ‘comedic’ character.

Of course everything I say is pure comedic gold, so I can speak as an authority on that.

The Doctor keeps trying to slow his progress in the game to buy the others more time, but the Toymaker won’t have it, artificially skipping the game ahead dozens of moves at a time.

With a bit of buttering-up from Dodo, the Sgt. agrees to help the pair out in their search, but quickly runs afoul of the cook, who doesn’t appreciate the destruction he’s wreaking in her kitchen.

Like the previous challenges, this is painfully tiresome to watch.

We’re eventually put out of our misery when Dodo realises they haven’t looked inside the pie on the kitchen table, and plunging a hand into the pastry finds the key.

The pair rush off, leaving the others to get a good scolding from the Toymaker, who orders them to prevent the companions reaching the other end of the dancefloor.

If not, he’ll break them, as easily as smashing a plate.

Steven and Dodo enter a room with a triangular raised dais, on which three ballerinas dance beautifully. The music accompanying them is less than beautiful.

The cook and the Sgt. enter close behind them, and Steven attempts to cross the dancefloor. However, he immediately finds himself caught up in the dance– in fact, he can’t stop.

The dolls spin the group around the dancefloor, holding on with a grip like iron, but with some effort Steven and Dodo manage to dance their way over to yet another fake TARDIS. Will they ever find the real thing?

Dodo wonders if they’ll see the cook and the Sgt. again. Exasperated, Steven reminds her that they’re just figments of the Toymaker’s imagination. But if that’s true, then why do they always lose, and why always by doing something silly and human?

Maybe they really do have minds of their own.

Disgusted with his incompetent minions, the Toymaker offers up a new doll for them to play with, the nastiest apparently. A devil? A monstrous beast? No…it’s a jolly schoolboy.

Schoolboy? He looks at least forty!

I wouldn’t take his sweets if I were you, Dodo. There’s something unsavoury about his manner.

Lady luck
Will show the way,

Win the game
Or here you’ll stay

THE FINAL TEST

So, what’s our next game? Hopscotch. How thrilling. Throw in an electrified floor, however, and the game gets a little more interesting.

The ‘schoolboy’ Cyril seems to be playing fair at first, but keeps adding new rules to the game whenever the companions have the upper hand. With how irritating he is and his love of practical ‘jokes’ like hand-buzzers, some viewers may be reminded of the Billy Bunter character from the Greyfriars School stories. Amusingly, so many apparently noticed this the previous week that after this week’s episode the continuity announcer had to clarify that Cyril is merely a ‘Bunter-like’ character, therefore not infringing any copyrights.

Feeling generous, the Toymaker allows the Doctor the use of his voice again. Welcome back, Mr. Hartnell. Been anywhere nice?

Cyril’s mischief turns nasty in the hopscotch game as he almost knocks Dodo onto the electrified floor. When Steven comes over to scold him, Cyril sends both back to the start, as he had landed on Dodo’s triangle (and according to the rules, the previous occupant of a triangle has to go back to the start if someone else lands on that same triangle. Wow, that was boring to explain), and Steven broke the rules.

Steven tries to just hop over to the TARDIS at the end of the course, but the Toymaker pops up to do jazz hands at him and blocks his way with an invisible barrier. They’re going to have to play by the Toymaker’s rules.

Finding himself frustrated with the Doctor’s continuing reluctance to speak, the Toymaker accelerates the game to spite him. The others are going to have to hurry.

Their bratty opponent pulls an obvious stunt when he pretends to hurt his foot, and Dodo comes to see if he’s all right. He is, of course, and he’s tricked her into breaking the rules, so back to the start she goes. Again.

On Cyril’s next roll, he rolls high enough to win the game. In a shocking turn of events, however, he stumbles and falls. Zap.
It’s a good thing he turned back into a doll, or that would have been quite grisly. There’s an awful lot of smoke.

Steven finds that the tile Cyril slipped on was covered in a slippery powder, which he must have put there to sabotage the companions and forgotten about.

They finally reach the police box as the Doctor makes his penultimate move. Could it be they’ve found the real TARDIS? Yes. Yes they have.

Fully visible once more, the Doctor halts his game and goes to check on his ship, reuniting with his friends.

Their relief doesn’t last long, as the Toymaker shows up to remind them that they still haven’t won. In fact, they can’t win. If the game ends, this whole world will disappear, and them with it. However, they can’t leave until the Doctor finishes his game. It’s quite the Catch-22.

It doesn’t look like they can talk their way out of this…or can they? Ordering Steven to pre-set the TARDIS controls, the Doctor pulls off an uncanny impression of the Toymaker’s voice to order the game to advance to the final move.

The face the Toymaker pulls as his world collapses is absolutely hilarious.

Still, being an immortal the Toymaker will surely be back some day, and he won’t let the Doctor get away with a trick like that again. That’s a way off though, so for now they can celebrate with some sweets.

And the Doctor promptly cracks a tooth on one.

I suppose next week will be the thrilling search for a dentist.

Final Thoughts

That brings us to the end of The Celestial Toymaker. I wanted to like this serial. There is plenty about it that I can appreciate. Micheal Gough’s performance as the Toymaker is a real highlight. He’s a very charismatic and compelling villain, definitely a worthy opponent for the Doctor. In many ways, he’s like a petulant child, almost pitiable, but there’s a real icy malice under it all. He’s a cautionary tale about the downsides of immortality. If you live forever, mortal lives are so short compared to yours they might as well be mayflies. What do morals matter to you when you outlive everyone who remembers your sins?

I’d certainly be open to seeing him make another appearance at some point, sans clowns.

The overall concept is quite fun, but the dull nature of the challenges made the execution quite lacklustre. When talking with friends, some complained that this serial was too fantastical. I disagree. I don’t think it was fantastical enough. We’re in a world entirely created from the imagination of a bored immortal, and the best he can come up with is electric hopscotch? Why not lean into the surrealism, a world that’s at turns both dream and nightmare? I don’t really care how the Toymaker has this level of control over his world, but I do care that he doesn’t use his powers to do much that’s truly interesting.

Something I’m a little surprised wasn’t brought up again at the end was the issue of the Toymaker’s playthings. Over the course of the serial, it’s all but outright stated that all his toys were once people. The Toymaker may have supplanted their wills with his own, but there are hints that there’s still some small part of the original person buried deep down.

Though the Toymaker must survive the destruction of his world, what of the toys? Are they too far removed from their humanity to be worth saving?

That said, they were all extremely annoying and I am not at all sorry to see the back of them.

There’s not much to complain about in terms of production value, with some pretty elaborate sets, effects and costumes. I did rather like the costuming work on the King and Queen of Hearts.

I can’t offer as much praise to the music in this serial, which seemed composed specifically to aggravate me. It’s repetitive, grating, unpleasant and repetitive.

Well, that’s enough griping for today, I think. Join me next time as we take a trip to the Wild West in search of… a dentist. It’s not the weirdest premise for a story I’ve ever heard.

3 out of 5 stars

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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 22, 1966] No Man's Land (Women of the Prehistoric Planet and Further Female Filled Fantasy Films)

April 22, 2021 Victoria Silverwolf 3 Comments

by Victoria Silverwolf

Where The Boys Aren't
With apologies to Connie Francis.

One of the more unusual themes of science fiction and fantasy is a society entirely made up of women. I won't claim to have discovered the origin of this idea, but digging deep into old bound periodicals reveals that the early feminist Charlotte Perkins Gilman dealt with it as far back as 1915, in Herland, a novel serialized in her own magazine, The Forerunner. Flipping carefully through these old, dusty pages, I found out that it deals with a group of male explorers who come across a remote land populated only by women.

Maybe someday it will appear in book form. Until then, good luck tracking it down.

(If you know Perkins at all, it's probably because of her classic psychological horror story The Yellow Wallpaper (1892), which has been reprinted many times.)

Jumping forward in time, we find Philip Wylie dealing with a similar theme in his 1951 novel The Disappearance. Notably, this work not only features a world without men, but also one without women.

If memory serves, the question What Happened? is never answered.

Another important example is the novella Consider Her Ways (1956) by John Wyndham, in which a modern woman travels mentally to a future time when all men died from a virus.

It was even adapted into an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour.

A few years later we got a couple of examples from authors who are probably better known to science fiction fans than the general public, unlike Wylie and Wyndham.

World Without Men (1958) by Charles Eric Maine takes place in the far future, long after no male babies have been born. The women of this time discover a frozen man from the past, kept in suspended animation by the extreme cold.

They may have forgotten men, but they remembered hair dye and lipstick.

In Poul Anderson's novel Virgin Planet (1959), a man arrives on a world that has not seen one of his sex for many centuries.

He doesn't seem upset by the situation.

I'm sure there are many other examples of which I am not aware (and I'm deliberately ignoring an old story uncovered by my esteemed colleague John Boston a while ago). Let's turn our attention to cinematic versions. It turns out that we can divide them into two types.

Just Some Old Fashioned Girls
With apologies to Eartha Kitt.

First of all, we have movies about women in prehistoric times, or, in a similar fashion, primitive tribes of women dwelling in some remote part of the globe. For some reason or other, these nontechnological ladies have become separated from their menfolk, either deliberately or by chance.

The earliest example of which I am aware is Prehistoric Women (1950). The film has no English dialogue, only some kind of cavewoman language. A helpful narrator tells us what's going on. A group of tough cookies decide they would rather live without men, only capturing them when they're needed for mating. Our movie's hero teaches them the error of their ways, while taking the time to invent fire making.

Apparently the women invented makeup, hair styling, and the miniskirt.

Coming up fast on its heels was Wild Women (1951), demonstrating the other variety of primitive women flicks. In this case, the isolated females exist in modern times, somewhere in darkest Africa (although they're all Caucasians.) They run into a safari of male explorers, and hijinks ensue, as well as a lot of stock footage.

As you can tell from this poster, the movie has a much more interesting alternate title.

Slightly different in theme, but so utterly goofy that I feel compelled to mention it, is The Wild Women of Wongo (1958). Introduced by Mother Nature herself, this bizarre film deals with two primitive tribes. One consists of good-looking women and unattractive men; the other has the opposite problem. When yet another group shows up, this one made of of ape-men, the two tribes finally get together and trade partners.

Did I mention the talking parrot who provides a running commentary?

Planet of the Dames
With apologies to Pierre Boulle.

Next we have a surprisingly large number of movies in which astronauts wind up on another world full of women. The oldest one I know is, perhaps not surprisingly, a comedy.

Abbott and Costello Go to Mars (1953) sends the two comics to Venus. That's right, Venus. At no point does anybody go to Mars. Go figure. Anyway, the planet is full of beautiful women, and no men.

Featuring the Miss Universe contestants seems appropriate.

The same year brought us the more serious, but just as silly, Cat-Women of the Moon, in which the title characters are the sole survivors of the ancient Lunar civilization. There are also a couple of big spiders.

The resemblance of the Hollywood Cover Girls to felines is minimal.

Not to be outdone, the British demonstrated that they can make movies just as goofy as American ones. 1956 offered Fire Maidens from Outer Space, set on the thirteenth moon of Jupiter (whichever one that might be.) Adding a touch of class is the presence of classical music on the soundtrack. As you'd expect, the Fire Maidens wear miniskirts, but these are inspired by ancient Greek designs.

In the United States, from was changed to of, for no good reason I can see.

A couple of years later, we got what is probably the most expensive movie yet of this specific kind. Queen of Outer Space (1958) was written by Charles Beaumont, later to pen several episodes of Twilight Zone, from an idea by the noted playwright Ben Hecht. With those big names at the typewriter, you'd think it would be something other than just another variation on the same old theme. Not so, although Hollywood scuttlebutt has it that it was intended as a spoof. Anyway, the plot has astronauts journey to Venus, where they find a bunch of beauties ruled by a tyrannical monarch.

Contrary to popular belief, Zsa Zsa does not play the Queen of Outer Space.

Probably not last, but maybe least, the same year somebody decided to remake Cat-Women of the Moon and call it Missile to the Moon. Words fail me.

More emphasis on the giant spider, less on the feline females.

Double Trouble
With apologies to Otis Rush.

With all of that background in mind, let's take a look at a newly released film with a title that seems to promise a combination of the two kinds of movies discussed above.

Assuming anything in this poster is at all accurate, it's hard for me to see how a skirmish between savage planet women and female space invaders is the battle of the sexes.

We begin aboard the good ship Cosmos One, which looks like a golden flying saucer zooming through interstellar space. In command is Admiral David King, who provides the audience with some helpful exposition by dictating his log entry for the day.

Wendell Corey as Admiral King. Hey! He was in Agent for H.A.R.M. too!

It seems that the admiral's flagship, as well as Cosmos Two (never seen in the movie) and Cosmos Three are on their way back from Centaurus, carrying refugees from a failed colony world. (I'm guessing this is supposed to be Alpha Centauri.) We'll soon find out that the Centaurans are all played by actors of Asian ancestry. (Was the colony founded by Asian space explorers? The film doesn't say.) The crews of the starships are all played by Caucasian actors.

Aboard Cosmos One are some male officers, a couple of female communications technicians (who wear very tight trousers), and a couple of engineering guys, one of whom, to my horror, proves to be our movie's comic relief. There is also one Centauran, a young woman named Linda. (All the other Centaurans we'll meet have Asian-sounding names. Why is Linda different? Because, as we'll learn later, she's actually only half-Centauran. I guess that's why she's on the flagship.)

Irene Tsu as Linda. Hey! She was in How to Stuff a Wild Bikini too!

In the first of many painful scenes involving our would-be comedian (Lieutenant Red Bradley, if you must know), he does some clumsy flirting with the communication gals. After being rebuffed, he makes a remark about how they shouldn't treat him like a Centauran. Oops. Linda happens to be standing right there, and Bradley has to make a feeble apology for his prejudiced remark.

Paul Gilbert as Bradley, with a typical expression.

The incident introduces the film's theme of discrimination, albeit in a ham-fisted fashion. This is brought out more forcefully aboard Cosmos Three (using the same set as the interior of Cosmos One but with different actors.) The Centaurans, accusing the crew of treating them like slaves, take over the ship.

A communications officer tied up by the rebels. Later she'll reveal that she hates all Centaurans. Admittedly, this is after the mutiny, and when she has a broken arm.

The hijacked spaceship hurtles towards a star called Solaris, if I heard the dialogue correctly. (I understand there's a Polish SF novel with the title Solaris, by one Stanislaw Lem, but it has not yet appeared in English translation. If this is an allusion, it's a darned obscure one.)

Cosmos Three crashes into, you guessed it, a prehistoric planet. Among the survivors is a Centauran woman who happens to be married to one of the ship's officers. (At least not all the folks among the crew are bigots.)

From left to right, the Centauran woman, some guy with an injured head, the woman's husband, and the woman who hates Centaurans.

One of the Centauran rebels shows up and attacks the officer. It turns out to be the Centauran woman's brother. In what must be an incredibly painful moment of decision, she shoots her brother (with a plain old gun, not one of the blasters we'll see later) to save her husband.

Back at Cosmos One, Admiral King defies his commanders at home by turning back to search for survivors of the wreck of Cosmos Three. (The implied subplot of King risking his career leads to nothing, so don't worry about it.)

At this point we introduce the idea of time dilation at velocities near the speed of light, a pretty sophisticated notion for a low budget sci-fi flick. The journey to the prehistoric planet will take three months of ship time, but eighteen years of planet time. I was impressed by this plot element, but they ruin it later by claiming that the time difference has something to do with how quickly the planet rotates.

Anyway, the crew explores the planet, running into things like a giant lizard, which they quickly wipe out with a blaster. (I told you it would show up.) They also have to cross a pool of some kind of deadly liquid on a log. Unfortunately, the way this is filmed, you can tell that they could have easily walked around it.

Worst of all, the movie comes to a complete stop as we endure a comedy routine from Lieutenant Bradley. In addition to relating an anecdote that only leads up to a very weak pun, he demonstrates his supposed karate skills. He manages to do a really impressive forward flip during this scene, landing flat on his back, so I'll admit the actor is quite agile. If nothing else, I have to say that I've never heard anybody make the exact same kind of karate shout.

HI_KEEBA!

Due to all the planet's dangers, not counting the comic relief, Admiral King doesn't allow any of the other crewmembers to take shore leave. Security on Cosmos One must be pretty lax, because Linda, who is sick of being cooped up inside, escapes. She quickly gets in trouble, but is rescued by a local inhabitant named Tang. (The fact that he has the same designation as a brand of drink mix doesn't seem to have occurred to any of the filmmakers.)

Roberto Ito as the unfortunately named Tang.

Tang takes Linda back to his cave and covers her with furs. When he reveals that he had to remove her wet clothing, she slaps him silly. Not to be outdone, he slaps her back. Naturally, this leads to them smooching.

An intimate moment in Tang's bachelor pad.

It turns out that Tang is the son of the Centauran woman and her officer husband. (Remember them?) Weirdly, he's got their bodies frozen in perfect condition in an ice cave. You might think this would put a damper on his burgeoning romance, but Linda doesn't seem too upset.

The folks on Cosmos One are worried about Linda, so they set out to find her. We learn that Linda is actually Admiral King's daughter. This doesn't come as a big surprise, as it was already hinted at by Jung, an older Centauran man on the ship.

Kam Tong as Jung and Merry Anders as Lieutenant Karen Lamont share a moment of concern with Admiral King.

Let me pause a moment to describe a pointless scene that occurs somewhere around here. One of the communications officers puts on some cha-cha music and starts dancing in a hip-swaying manner. (Remember those very tight trousers.) Of course, this draws the attention of the lecherous Lieutenant Bradley. It's a really odd moment, that doesn't have anything to do with anything else.

Out of the blue, some cavemen we've never seen before attack Tang and Linda. The rescue team happens to be right there, and they stupidly injure Tang with a blaster. They grab Linda so they can drag her back to the ship, and Tang runs off.

Linda screams as she sees Tang leave. By the way, she's wearing a dress that belonged to Tang's mother, which is in amazingly good condition and fits her perfectly.

Oh, if you're wondering when we're going to see the women of the prehistoric planet, you might as well relax. Unless you count the female survivors of the crash landing, or Linda, there aren't any. From what I've been able to learn, some scenes involving cavewomen will be added to the slightly racier European version of the movie.

Not for innocent American eyes.

Linda isn't very happy to be back aboard Cosmos One. Admiral King eventually agrees that his daughter would be happier with Tang, so off she goes. (I forgot to mention the big volcanic explosion, courtesy of stock footage, that adds some drama, but doesn't alter the plot in any way.)

Linda temporarily returns to the ship. Note that she is now wearing the fetching mini-sarong that Tang gave her.

We then get the film's shocking twist ending, which you'll see coming a mile away. (Stop reading if you want to be surprised, which you won't be.) As Cosmos One heads out into space, Admiral King looks back at the prehistoric planet, and tells us that it is called Earth. That's right, the oldest and corniest plot in science fiction. I guess Tang and Linda are supposed to be Adam and Eve (although I don't know how the briefly seen cavemen and the unseen-in-America cavewomen figure into things.) It just goes to show you that you shouldn't monkey around with worn-out clichés.

Also not in the American version, although Tang does have a chimpanzee companion.

Well, so much for sticking with the topic of this article! The title of this cheap little picture, best suited for mocking, led me down the garden path. No tribe of primitive women isolated from men, no astronauts landing on a planet full of lonely females. I guess I'll have to wait for the next cinematic example of the genre.

Coming soon!

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Science / Space Race

[April 20, 1966] Space Exploration is Hard (Venera 2 and 3, Luna 10 and OAO 1)

April 20, 2021 Kaye Dee Leave a comment

by Kaye Dee

While manned spaceflight always grabs the headlines, the past month or so has seen some fascinating, if not always successful, attempts at planetary and lunar exploration and the launch of a new space observatory. The failures of some of these missions remind us that space exploration is hard and success is never guaranteed…

Still Unable to Lift the Veil of Venus

Launched just days apart back in November last year, Soviet Venus probes, Venera 2 and 3 were due to arrive at the Earth’s mysterious, cloud-veiled sister planet at the beginning of March, but both seem to have failed just on the verge of success.

As early as February 1961, the USSR commenced its attempts to explore Venus with the Venera (Russian for Venus) 1 probe. Although Venera-1 flew past Venus at a distance of 100,000km on 19 May 1961, no data were received, due to a communications failure. According to my friends at the Weapons Research Establishment, following that mission there may have been several failed attempts by the USSR to launch missions to Venus, before Venera 2 and 3 were successfully sent on their way back in November.

(top) Venera 1, the USSR's first Venus probe and (bottom) its official follow on, Venera 2. I wonder how many unannounced failures lie between these two missions?

According to various news releases from the Soviet news agency TASS, the two spacecraft were intended for different exploration missions. Venera 2 was planned to fly past the sunlit side of Venus and examine its enigmatic clouds. The spacecraft was equipped with cameras, a magnetometer and a variety of instruments to measure the radiation environment in space and at Venus. Valuable data on the interplanetary space environment was transmitted back to Earth during the flight to Venus.

All Venera 2's instruments were activated for the flyby on 27 February, at a distance of 14,790 miles. While the instruments were operating, the radio had to be shut down, with the probe storing their data in onboard recorders. The plan was for the stored data to be transmitted it to Earth once contact was restored. However, it seems that ground controllers in the USSR were unable to re-establish communications with the spacecraft after the flyby. Attempts to re-establish contact with Venera 2 ceased on March 4, but if communication with the spacecraft can be made at some future point, Soviet scientists believe that it may still be possible to recover some of the flyby data.

Touchdown?

Unlike Venera 2’s flyby (similar to those of Mariner 2 at Venus and Mariner 4 at Mars), Venera 3’s ambitious goal was to land a small capsule of instruments on the surface of Venus, hopefully to unlock at least some of the secrets hidden beneath its veil of clouds. Because some scientists believe there could be life on Venus, the USSR claims the lander was “sterilised” before its departure from Earth so that would not contaminate the Venusian atmosphere or surface with any microbial terrestrial life.

The Venera 3 lander was a metal sphere about 35 inches in diameter, which carried instruments to measure atmospheric temperature, pressure and composition, and light levels at different altitudes, as well small metal Soviet emblems. Interestingly, because some scientists still hold the view that Venus could be a water world, the lander was designed to be able to float and carried a motion detector, which could determine if it had actually landed in water and was rocking in the waves.

Venera 3 was similar to its sister-probe Venera 2. But look closely and you can see the landing capsule at the bottom of the spacecraft

Weighing 884lbs, the lander was designed to drop through Venus’ atmosphere on a parachute, transmitting data from its instruments directly back to Earth, while the rest of the Venera 3 spacecraft went into orbit around Venus to take other scientific measurements. However, like its sister probe, contact with Venera 3 was lost as it approached Venus. Tracking data indicates that the landing capsule entered the Venusian atmosphere on 1 March, although no telemetry was received from the lander. Nevertheless, the Venera 3 lander has become the first manmade object to impact another planet, which is an achievement in itself. The reasons for the failure of the two Venera spacecraft remain a mystery, although some experts believe that the thick Venusian atmosphere may have had something to do with it.

Newly-released Venera 3 stamp (thanks Uncle Ernie!). It shows the Soviet medal and pendant depicting the planet Earth that were carried on board the lander

Advancing the Soviet Lunar Programme

Despite the problems with its Venus programme, the USSR’s lunar programme seems to be going from strength to strength. Following on from the historic soft landing on the Moon with Luna 9 in February, Luna 10 marks another step forward, becoming the first spacecraft to go into orbit around the Moon. (Of course, it’s obvious that this feat was timed to occur during the 23rd Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, but I’m sure it was also deliberately planned to upstage the United States’ Lunar Orbiter program, which is due to commence later this year, with a series of spacecraft that will photograph and map the Moon in advance of the Apollo programme).

Luna 10, the first spacecraft to orbit the Moon

A pre-launch photograph of Luna 10 indicates that its design is very similar to that of Luna 9, although the instrument capsule on top has a different shape. Launched on 31 March, Luna 10 went into lunar orbit three days later. Its elliptical orbit approaches as close as to the lunar surface as 217 miles, with its farthest point at 632 miles, and takes just under three hours. The 530lb spacecraft is battery powered, rather than using solar panels, so it is unclear how long it will keep sending data back to the Earth, but at present it is producing a regular stream of information about the space environment in the vicinity of the Moon, that will help us understand how safe (or otherwise) it will be for the first cosmonauts and astronauts to explore cislunar space and the Moon itself.

Close up view of a model of the Luna 10 instrument capsule and the small Soviet metal pendants that it carried onboard

Scientific Instruments aboard Luna 10 include a gamma-ray spectrometer, a magnetometer, a meteorite detector, instruments for solar-plasma studies, and devices for measuring infrared emissions from the Moon and radiation conditions of the lunar environment. However, it is not clear whether the probe is actually carrying a camera to photograph the Moon’s surface. Preliminary data released by the Soviet Union indicates that there are higher concentrations of meteoritic dust in the vicinity of the Moon than in interplanetary space, as well as “electron fluxes” that are “70 to 100 times more intense than the cosmic ray background”.

First day cover commemorating the Luna 10 mission. Soviet space covers are masterpieces of propaganda, with the stamp design, envelope design and postmark all re-inforcing the message of Communist space achievement!

A Propaganda Serenade from the Moon!

As the Space Race heats up, the Soviet leadership is always ready to exploit propaganda opportunities associated with space exploration. To celebrate the CPSU Congress, a synthesised version of the Communist anthem “The Internationale” was broadcast live from Luna 10 to the congress on 4 April. (At least, it was claimed to be live: I wonder if Luna 10’s controllers actually used a pre-recorded version in case there were problems with the spacecraft? After all, it would be very politically embarrassing to have a failure of Soviet technology at such a high profile event for global Communism!)

Sky High Eyes on the Sky

The last mission I want to mention this month is NASA’s Orbiting Astronomical Observatory (OAO) 1, not least because this a major space project managed by a woman! Dr. Nancy Grace Roman, formerly a radio astronomer with the Naval Research Laboratory, joined NASA in 1959 and became Chief of Astronomy in NASA's Office of Space Science in 1960. She has a prestigious international reputation and was the first woman in an executive position at the space agency, where she has established the space astronomy programme.

Dr Nancy Grace Roman in 1962 with a model of another of her space observatory projects, the Orbiting Solar Observatory

The heaviest satellite yet launched by the United States (weighing almost two tons), OAO 1 was launched successfully on 8 April, riding to orbit on an Atlas-Agena D from Cape Canaveral. It carried 10 telescopes and other instruments capable of detecting ultraviolet, X-ray and gamma ray emissions to measure the absorption and emission characteristics of the stars, planets, nebulae from the visible to gamma-ray regions The observatory satellite was intended to give astronomers their first clear look at the heavens without the distorting effect of the Earth’s atmosphere and its results were greatly anticipated.

However, before the instruments could be activated, something caused a power failure that resulted in the mission being terminated after just 20 orbits. Because the spacecraft could not be controlled, its solar panels could not be deployed to recharge the batteries supplying the equipment and instruments on board the satellite. Although this is a blow to space astronomy, I’m sure the OAO programme will continue as future satellites are already in development.

NASA illustration of Orbiting Astronomical Observatory 1. While this satellite has failed, there will be future space observatories in this program

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 18, 1966] Rocannon and the Kar-Chee

April 18, 2021 Jason Sacks 8 Comments

by Jason Sacks

One of my favorite sci-fi publishers these days is Ace Books. We've talked about their double novels a lot on the Journey, so I'm sure you're well aware of them, but I'd like to take a moment to consider just how delightful their line has been over the last decade-plus.

For the last 15 years or so, Ace's flip books, or tête-bêches if you want to get all French about them, have presented a wide spectrum of science fiction from some of the grand masters. Asimov, Brackett, deCamp and Dick have all been published under the Ace banner along with more modern writers like John Brunner, Kenneth Bulmer and Damon Knight. And while some of these little novels haven't been great – Agent of the Unknown, to choose one at random, has a fun cover but an uninspiring story – others are thoroughly delightful.

And best of all, all these little novels are all short! Most are 120 pages or less: a quick couple hours' read while on the bus or after school.

Whether delivered as an opportunity to repackage Ziff-Davis novels, or a chance for a young writer to experiment with his or her craft, or a chance for an older writer to burn off an unpublished tale, the reader gets real value from his or her 35¢ (in the '50s) or 50¢ today. And whether the reader discovers a nice treasure or total drek, the low price point and quick-read style of the books seldom leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

The biggest thrill for me with these Ace novels is to get to see a growing science fiction talent spread his or her wings a bit and deliver a terrific first novel. Rocannon's World is exactly that kind of thrill. Written by up-and-coming author Ursula K. LeGuin, this expansion of an earlier Amazing Stories tale shows a passion for alien cultures that demonstrates a unique and intriguing viewpoint.

Rocannon's World is a kind of sci-fi/fantasy hybrid. Our protagonist is Gaverel Rocannon, an ethnologist on a mission to explore the biology of the planet Fomalhaut II. Though Fomalhaut II is nominally under an exploration embargo by the League of All Worlds, the League's enemy establishes a base on Formalhut to battle them.

If you're thinking this sounds like the launch of one of those novels all about the lone hero fighting and defeating a staunch enemy, you're both right and wrong. Eventually Rocannon is able to win, but he only does so after a long and arduous — and exciting — journey, and only after causing himself great trauma and pain.

Formalhut is an intriguing planet, and LeGuin gives this planet an clever sort of fantasy feel. Rocannon and his native companions fly on "windsteeds," giant flying cat creatures, he encountrers dwarflike Gdemiar, rodent like Kiemhir, elven Fiia, even nightmarish creatures just called Winged Ones. It all feels like a bit of lesser Tolkien, and that gives this brief book a lot of its charm.

But charming as this book is, LeGuin wrote something more interesting and complex than a simple story about a battle on another planet. Rocannon goes through an archetypical journey to his heroism. He starts a bit feckless but soon learns the importance of his journey. After enlisting the help of newfound friends, Rocannon gains confidence and trust. His moment of transformation happens when he goes into a mountainside cave. While in the cave, he encounters "the Old One", a strange entity who grants Rocannon "mindspeech", or telepathy, in exchange for giving himself to the planet.

That mindspeech is a blessing and curse, granting Rocannon the ability to win his war but also granting him the chance to psychically feel the pain of all the beings he has killed.

All of this is heady stuff that expands on the considerable promise Ms. LeGuin has shown in her short stories. Though the novel has some flaws, most of them are tied to its abbreviated length. There's a feeling throughout of playing with key ideas and concepts, a kind of authorial exploration of her own mind. I hope we get to return to this world, but even more I hope the author has more good novels in her.

Rocannon's World 3.5 stars

[Note: This novel appears to be a sequel of sorts to Dowry of the Angyar, reviewed in these pages two years ago (ed.)]

I was surprised and happy to discover I liked the flip side of this double novel nearly as much. I've never been a big fan of Avram Davidson's stories in the mags, finding them a bit wordy and dull. Somehow, though, this novel clicked in for me much more than his short stories usually do, and I found myself intrigued and captived by a lot of The Kar-Chee Reign.

Kar-Chee takes place in a far-future Earth. Hollowed out by over-mining and ecological collapse, Earth has been abandoned and forgotten by her children who have long since settled on distant planets. Only a small number of humans remain on the planet, eking out a small subsistence lifestyle. Those humans, though, are imperiled by an insectlike alien race called the Kar-Chee, out to strip Earth of its few remaining minerals, for reasons completely unknown to humans.

As with the LeGuin novel, you can probably guess how Mr. Davidson's story will play out: a group of humans rally their forces, gather up their courage, build smart weapons and begin to beat back the invaders and reclaim Earth's birthright.

Like Rocannon, the pleasure in Kar-Chee lies in its journey, not in its destination. Davidson delivers large amounts of expository text in this book, giving readers the background of Earth's downfall in a lyrical style that feels as evocative as stories told around a campfire. Those sections of this novel have a suprising power and I found myself missing the expository elements when the book settled back into its action-packed elements. I wonder if Mr. Davidson has any interest in writing a future history chronicle, because I would love to read something like that.

The Kar-Chee Reign: 3 stars

The April '66 Ace Double turned out to be… well, aces, or at least a Jack and a Queen. Who knows what the next publication will bring? I'll be haunting the paperback rack at my local Woolworth's till the next book arrives.

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Galactic Journey

[May 6, 1966] Blaise-ing Wreckage (Modesty Blaise)

[May 4, 1966] Pushing the Envelope (The State of Music: 1964-66)

[May 2, 1966] By Any Other Name (June 1966 IF)

[April 30, 1966] Ormazd and Ahriman (May 1966 Analog)

[April 29, 1966] Young and Bold: Photographer David Bailey

[April 26, 1966] Inner Space, Romance and Religion Impulse and New Worlds, May 1966

[April 24, 1966] Playtime’s Over (Doctor Who: The Celestial Toymaker)

[April 22, 1966] No Man's Land (Women of the Prehistoric Planet and Further Female Filled Fantasy Films)

[April 20, 1966] Space Exploration is Hard (Venera 2 and 3, Luna 10 and OAO 1)

[April 18, 1966] Rocannon and the Kar-Chee

55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction