Science / Space Race

[May 30, 1965] Ticket to Ride (May space round-up)

2 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

It's been another exciting month in the realm of spaceflight.  We're between crewed missions, what with Voskhod 2 and Gemini 3 having flown in March and the next Gemini due in a few days.  Nevertheless, it has been a field day for robotic spacecraft, with a number of civilian and military packages booking passage aboard a plethora of satellites.  Take a look:

The Shape of Things that Came

Yuri Gagarin soared into history in April 1961, becoming the first human space traveler.  His face became known worldwide. His spacecraft, on the other hand, remained shrouded in mystery. For four years, the shape of the Vostok capsule remained a secret, with only a few dubious artists' conceptions offering any clues to its configuration.

That changed suddenly last month when the Soviets displayed the complete Vostok spacecraft at an exhibition in Moscow.  Now we know that the fanciful cylinders and bullet-shaped craft were completely off the mark — Vostok was spherical.

This is significant.  A sphere is a simple shape, mathematically, and it is not hard to weight a ball such that one end always points down.  In the Vostok, that point is where its heat shield was mounted.  A similar concept was employed with America's Mercury capsule, but the back end of the Mercury is only a small arc of a circle.  That's because American rockets were too weak to loft a full sphere.  Vostok is clearly a much heavier spacecraft than Mercury, and this suggests that the Soviet Vostok rocket was much more powerful than the Atlas and certainly the Redstone that lofted the first astronauts.

The unveiling of Vostok affords us a look into a completely different space program, too.  Earlier in the year, American intelligence determined that the Vostok had been turned into a spy satellite.  Instead of cosmonauts, the new Vostok carries a camera.  After a week snapping pictures in orbit, the capsule parachutes to Earth, and the film is developed.  It's an elegant repurposing, though it has to be more expensive than the American analog, Discoverer.

While the Soviets do not announce their spy missions, it's not too hard to figure out which of their Kosmos "science satellites" are probably spy Vostoks.  Their orbits, sweeping them over Western targets of interest, and their short lifespans on the order of a week give them away.  In just the last two months, it's likely that Kosmoses 64, 65, and 66 were all spy satellites.  In a few days, we'll know if Kosmos 67, launched on May 25, is also a space shutterbug.

Softly, softly

Another probe about which the Soviets are being less than forthcoming is Luna 5.  Launched on May 9, the ton-and-a-half spacecraft was headed for the Moon.  Reportedly, it conducted a mid-course maneuver on May 10, directing it toward the Sea of Clouds — which it hit at 10:10 PM, Moscow time.  Per TASS, "During the flight and the approach of the station to the moon a great deal of information was obtained which is necessary for the further elaboration of a system for soft landing on the moon’s surface."

That might lead one to the conclusion that Luna 5 was the Soviet version of Ranger, a TV probe designed to take pictures until it crashed.  However, Western observers using telescopes saw the plume of dust that one would expect accompanying an attempt at a soft landing.  That such a landing did not occur suggests that Luna 5 was supposed to be an equivalent of our Surveyor, set to launch next year, and that things did not go as planned.  The lunar race thus remains neck and neck.

Exploring, Communicating

The last month saw two more entries into the Explorer series: Explorer 27, launched April 29, is a windmill-shaped little satellite that will measure irregularities in the Earth's shape; a secondary mission is probing the ionosphere.

Meanwhile, Explorer 28 was launched on May 28, and is the latest in the Interplanetary Monitoring Probe series, along with Explorers 18 and 21.  All three craft have high, eccentric orbits that allow them to thoroughly map Earth's magnetic field, though Explorer 18 went kaput earlier this month.

As we saw with last month's flight of Intelsat 1, space-based communications are now a fact of everyday life.  The USSR has now gotten in on the act, following up the flight of Early Bird with their own first satellite called Molniya, launched April 22, 1965.  It has a high, 12-hour orbit, not quite geosynchronous, designed to service the high latitude residents of the Soviet Union during the daytime.  European nations have already requested use of the Molniyas; they feel that the "international" Intelsat corporation too strongly favors the United States.


Finally, the Air Force's second "Lincoln Experimental Satellite," launched May 6, has been a success.  This next-generation communications satellite tests new technologies that will allow it to service hundreds of users at a time.  Its predecessor, LES-1 launched February 11, failed to fire its onboard engine that would kick it from its initial low orbit.  LES-2 had no such problems, and its orbit takes it more than 9000 miles above the surface of the Earth.

Of course, being a military satellite (as opposed to Telstar, Relay, and Syncom), it is possible that we civilians won't see immediate benefits, but I suspect they will trickle down in good time.

Another step Moonward

May 25 marked the ninth successful launch of the Saturn rocket, possibly the biggest rocket on Earth.  At its tip were boilerplates of the Apollo Command and Service Modules.  But these mock spacecraft weren't the stars of the show: inside the cylindrical Service Module was a giant satellite, the second Pegasus.  Appropriately adorned with a pair of enormous wings, Pegasus will stay in orbit for years measuring how many micrometeoroids our astronauts are likely to encounter on their way to the Moon.

The reliability of the Saturn is truly remarkable.  Remember the early days of the Space Race?  Chances were 50/50 then that any given rocket, Atlas, Juno, or Vanguard, would blow up on the launch pad, tilt off course, or otherwise fail.  We're now in an age of maturing space travel.  If Gemini's Titan rocket continues to do as well as the Saturn, I do believe that, by the 1970s, everyday citizens like you and me will be able to get tickets to ride into space. 

This week's Journey Show is a special Space Race episode!  Don't miss it!




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine

[May 28, 1965] Heavyweight's Burden (June 1965 Analog)

6 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

How the Mighty have Fallen

Since 1953, Sonny Liston has been a big name in boxing.  Liston's spectacular career, marred by a prison hitch and rumored connections with organized crime, reached its pinnacle when he defeated Floyd Patterson in 1962 to become the world heavyweight champ.

He kept the title for two years, losing it in an upset to newcomer Cassius Clay.  In last week's rematch, Clay, now named Muhammad Ali, beat Liston even more handily.  Ali looks like he'll be keeping his title for a long time.

John W. Campbell Jr.'s Astounding was the heavyweight champion of science fiction magazines in the late 1930s, standing head and shoulders above its pulp competition.  It retained this title all through the Golden Age of SF, which lasted through the 1940s.

For the last fifteen years, Astounding (now called Analog) has maintained the highest circulation numbers, by far, of the science fiction digests.  It survived the mass extinctions of the late 1950s.  Campbell is still at the tiller.

But there are signs that the old champion could become easy pickings for a scrappy newcomer.  A recent flirtation with the "slick" format and dimensions was a dismal failure. The contents of the once-proud magazine have been staid for a long time.  Then, of course, there's Campbell's personal weirdness, his obsession with fringe sciences, his odious opinions on race relations.

That's not to say Analog is an unworthy magazine, but it's got its problems.  Exhibit A of Analog's vulnerability: the latest issue.

Handicapping the Reigning Champion


Did Campbell forget his is a science fiction magazine?

If I were a gambling house, I'd want to give my champion a thorough vetting, analyzing all of its strengths and weaknesses, and coming up with odds of victory accordingly.  Let's imagine the June 1965 issue as a kind of exhibition bout and see how it does.

The Muddle of the Woad, by Randall Garrett


by John Schoenherr

The bell rings, and our champion is looking good.  Randall Garrett is back with his third Lord Darcy story, a magical mystery series set in an alternate 20th Century in which England and France are united, Poland is the big adversary, and sorcery exists alongside technology.  The Lord Detective, along with his tubby Irish spell-casting sidekick, Sean, solve the murders of the Empire's most prestigious citizens.

In the deliciously pun-titled case, Lord Camberton of Kent is found dead in a coffin intended for someone else, his body dyed blue with woad.  Suspicion immediately falls on the Albion Society, a group of druids who reject Christianity.  But is this a red herring?  As with any good mystery, the cast of suspects is limited, and the ending involves the classic summoning of all to a room for a final deduction of the culprit.

Good stuff, as always.  A fine story and a rich universe.  Four stars.

Glimpses of the Moon, by Wallace West


by John Schoenherr

Oh, but now the champion is faltering.  Wallace West, who wrote the rather delightful River of Time offers up a clunker of a tale.  It is the late 1960s, and a three-way race to the Moon between American, the Soviet Union, and Great Britain has ended in something of a tie.  While the representative of the U.S.A. clearly landed first, the Soviets claim that the Moon is the property of whichever country whose skies it happens to be in at any given time.  Thus, ownership cycles with every day.  In the end, it turns out that a fourth power has a much earlier claim on the body.

It's all very silly, but not in a particularly fun way.  Two stars.

Hydrogen Fusion Reactor, by Edward C. Walterscheid

Last month, there was an article on magnetohydrodynamics — the use of magnetic bottles to contain thermonuclear reactions.  This month, the science fact article is exclusively on nuclear fusion.  Indeed, so proud is Campbell of this piece that he gave it the cover.

I was eager to learn about the state of development of this promising power source. Sadly, Walterscheid has not yet learned how to subdivide his points. Or write interesting prose. The result is an impenetrable wall.

Hmmm.  Perhaps the article could be repurposed to line the walls of tomorrow's fusion reactor…

Two stars.  Folks, the champion is staggering!

The GM Effect, by Frank Herbert


by Robert Swanson

Oh boy. Dune author Frank Herbert is back, and with another talking head story.  Unlike his last one, which involved a congressional hearing on a widely distributed superweapon, The GM Effect is about a drug that allows takes to experience former lives.  When it is discovered that this reveals all sorts of unsavory and forgotten tidbits of history (including that a Southern senator is one-quarter black), the drug's developers decide to cancel production.  Then the military comes in, shoots the drug creators, and appropriates their creation.

Not only is the story rather pointless, it's distasteful.  Herbert seems to be gleeful that Lincoln was personally no great lover of black Americans, and when the murdering general describes the erstwhile scientists as "N*gg*r lovers," I get less the sense that the utterer is supposed to be the bad guy and more that the author was delighted to be able to squeeze the word into a story.

One star…and our champion is down, folks!  He's down!

Duel to the Death, by Christopher Anvil


by John Schoenherr

Nearly 30 years ago, Analog's editor wrote Who Goes There.  One of the genre's seminal stories, it details the infiltration of an Antarctic base by a body-snatching alien, one that spreads via touch.  The result is that one cannot tell friend from foe anymore.  It's a chilling premise that has since been used to great effect, for instance by Robert Heinlein in The Puppet Masters..

Duel is a fairly straight entry in the genre.  A spacer on a new planet has his suit punctured by some sort of dart, and he quickly succumbs to alien control.  The purloined body becomes Ground Zero of an alien invasion that quickly takes over a nearby space fleet.  Thus ensues a race against time: can the Terran Navy defeat this scourge before it absorbs the whole of humanity?

Most of this story is quite good, with some very interesting story-telling, often from the point of view of inanimate objects: the space suit of the first victim, the ship's sensors of the investigating fleet, the communications devices employed by the humans.

But, to distinguish Duel from its predecessors, the author ends the piece with a twist that doesn't quite work.  I understand it, I think, but I don't quite buy it.

Three stars — good enough to bring our champion back to his feet, but flawed enough that he leaves the ring dazed.

Summing Up

Running our champion's performance through the Star-O-Vac, we come up with a rating of just 2.5.  That's pretty bad.  In a head-to-head against the other magazines of this month (and there was a bumper crop), how would Analog have fared?

Not well, it turns out.  Partly, it's because the competition was quite strong: Fantasy and Science Fiction ended up on top with an impressive 3.5 rating.  Worlds of Tomorrow garnered 3.2 stars and Galaxy got 3.1.  Both Amazing and New Worlds got three stars, while Fantastic and Science Fantasy finished at a sub-par 2.8.

Only If ranked lower than Analog, meriting just 2.2 stars (sorry David!)

So, a disappointing performance by Campbell's mag augurs poorly for it. Will there be a Muhammad Ali of science fiction publications?

(P.S. Women wrote six of the 55 fiction pieces this month; none appeared in Analog — connection?)




6 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 26th 1965] Mind Control, Aldiss and Time Travel (New Worlds and Science Fantasy, June 1965)

16 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After the hoo-ha of celebrating New Worlds’s 150th issue last month, we’re back to some sort of normality. But if you thought things were getting boring – think again! We are all counting down to the much-expected Worldcon in the Summer, only a couple of months away from the time I’m writing. This includes the magazines themselves.

But first, let’s get to the issue that arrived first in the post this month: the June issue of Science Fantasy.

We have another painting on the cover by the prolific Keith Roberts. I almost like this one, although your guess as to what it shows is as good as anyone else’s.

Interestingly, a glance at the front and back covers shows us (once again) names mentioned that are not in this issue. This includes the aforementioned Keith Roberts, with stories clearly held over for some reason. And whither, Philip Wordley?

On a more positive note, I do like Kyril’s Editorials, perhaps more than Mike Moorcock’s in New Worlds. Mike’s prose always comes across as a lecture, whilst Kyril’s is more chatty. This may be relevant this month, as Kyril uses an Aldiss quote at a starting point,"The job of a critic consists of knowing when he is being bored, and why", and then takes to task the term ‘well-written’, a phrase I have been guilty of using often in these here articles. He makes the point that well-written can mean that the prose is florid – “it exhibits bursts of purple mandarin-fiction” or is ‘easy to read’ and therefore less boring.

And using that analogy I might be as bold as to say that Moorcock’s New Worlds editorials are erudite, whilst Kyril’s are less boring. His use of a James Bond book to explain this is inspired, although the topic is left with a promise to come back to it at a later date.

To the stories themselves.

The Impossible Smile (part 2 of 2), by Jael Cracken

The second part of this serial by Brian Aldiss under a different name is not the only time we will come across Brian this month. The Impossible Smile begins where we pretty much left off – in a future dystopian state telepath Conrad Wyvern has been captured and taken to the Moon where the artificial intelligence ‘Big Bert’ is waiting. The government through their lunar representative Colonel H hope to link Wyvern to Bert the Brain and so read the minds of the whole population. For Wyvern, the risk is that the process will kill him, as it it did previous test subjects.

So: a fast-paced tale with lots of action and running about. Much of this second part is about what happens when Wyvern & Big Bert are connected, and Wyvern’s subsequent escape from the hospital he is imprisoned in. (I know – he’s on the Moon! Where would he escape to?) There’s some typical inner mind psychedelia and out of body experiences (walls of eyeballs!) which seem rather de rigueur at the moment. All hail the telepathic New Order!

Aldiss continues to tell an entertaining yarn which is great fun, if ultimately rather superficial. Not his best, but still readable. 3 out of 5.

Great and Small, by G. L. Lack

Not a name I immediately know, although he/she was in the New Writings in SF 2 story collection that I couldn’t finish. This is his/her first time in Science Fantasy. Great and Small is a strange little story about a man and his ongoing conversation with a fly, that often seen but generally unnoticeable insect. The man wakes up in a hospital to find a fly buzzing around – but wait! All flies are extinct, thanks to yet another apocalyptic event. The man feeds the fly some jam and then it buzzes off to meet another fly, presumably to dominate the new global ecosystem. As I said, odd and although it is interesting, not really worth much attention. 2 out of 5.

Ploop, by Ron Pritchett

Names are important, aren’t they? I must admit that the childish part of my brain struggled to cope with a character named ‘Ploop’.

Ploop is an alien and this minor story is about its first meeting with another alien race. Unsurprisingly, the aliens are humans and although Ploop looks like a dog it is in fact something else much more dangerous.

Ron is a new author and whilst this is a valiant effort, it shows. I suspect we may not see much more of him. A placeholder using a tired idea. 2 out of 5.

Peace on Earth, by Paul Jents

Paul was last seen with the very odd Unto All Generations in the July/August 1964 issue. This is one of those stories with a twist in the tail, the story of the Earth’s first landing on the Moon with a horrible discovery at the end. Suffice it to say that the Moon is not made of green cheese but has something much worse. Another tired old cliché. 2 out of 5.

Deterrent, by Alastair Bevan

The return of someone who has become a recent regular, that of Keith Roberts by another name. Unsurprisingly, the topline describes Mr Bevan as “one of our best finds”. Deterrent is a story of seemingly primitive cave-people living a tribal existence until they discover what appears to be a nuclear weapon, the unsurprising post-apocalyptic twist in the tale. Not really anything to shout about, as something that has been done before and often. Must admit, though, that it is the first time I’ve ever read of Gods having a “xylophone presence.” 3 out of 5.

A Pleasure Shared, by Brian W. Aldiss

A name that needs no explanation from me – have I reminded you this month yet that he is to be a Guest of Honour at the London Worldcon in August? His prolific nature is noticeable at the moment. Last month he had published two very different stories in the two magazines – this month he has two in the same issue. A Pleasure Shared is however a reprint, first published in the USA in December 1962. The banner heading is very careful to point out that it is not science fiction in the accepted sense of the word, but “a triumph of empathetic fiction” – whatever that means.

What A Pleasure Shared actually is is a contemporary horror story, written from the perspective of a killer. Outwardly Mr Cream seems nice, polite and pleasant, but as we read his internalised monologue here it is clear that he is really not well. He has murdered, more than once. We know this from the beginning, because the woman he killed last night is still in his bedsit room. This would be bad enough but an accident to his widowed neighbour means that things take an unexpected turn at the end. This is really one in the style and tone of William Powell’s film Peeping Tom from a couple of years ago or Robert Bloch’s Psycho. It is shocking and memorable. Is it science fiction? No. But it is a very, very good story. I can see why Kyril has wanted to publish it. The best of the issue for me, and certainly the most memorable. Who would have thought that that nice Mr. Aldiss could come up with something so depraved? Shame its taken so long to appear here in Britain, though. 4 out of 5.

Prisoner, by Patricia Hocknell

Back to something a little more mundane, now. Another story from Patricia, last seen in the January/February 1965 issue with Only the Best. It begins as if the narrator is a convict with no knowledge of where they are or how they got there. All is revealed at the end with another twist in the tale. Again, OK, but nothing really new. 3 out of 5.

In Reason’s Ear, by Pippin Graham

Another new name to me. In this story, John Wetherall is a man recently returned to London after working in West Africa for the UKESCM (the United Kingdom Educational, Scientific and Cultural Mission) who seem to be a branch of the Foreign Office. John finds himself in trouble when after helping an old friend he discovers that the friend is supposedly dead, killed on an expedition to the Moon a few months ago.

I quite liked this one, although it is remarkably mannered. The US Intelligence Service at one point knock on a door to be told “Go away, I don’t answer my door at night”, which they do! This is in marked contrast to some other elements of the story which show a world out of control. Wetherall is shocked to find that London is prone to rampaging teenagers with little police support available to tackle them, and Graham does well to describe what he sees as he goes about the city. There are regular gatherings of these dancing, marijuana-smoking, knife-wielding, riotous young tearaways and they seem to put the rest of the general public in a state of fear – as if the general story of the Moon being dangerous wasn’t enough.

Whilst I see the story as a prime example of paranoiac adults being fearful for their future, I liked some of the ideas shown here. The story fizzles out with a now-traditional enigmatic ending, but overall it kept me reading. Whilst not superlative, and some definite flaws, it is one of this month’s better offerings for me. 3 out of 5.

Xenophilia, by Thom Keyes

A name we’ve come across before, in New Worlds in January 1965. His last story (Election Campaign) was underwhelming. Xenophilia is a story of alien love that begins like Casino Royale in Space before delving into the realms of alien sex. Short, it reads like a more explicit version of the old Bug-Eyed-Monster stories of yesteryear. I suspect that it is meant to shock. However, whilst it is still weird, I found the short story more palatable than his last. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Let’s start with a good point. Despite Brian Aldiss appearing twice, there is a greater range of stories this month, and I’m pleased to see that there are both more new writers and even a woman writer in this issue. This can only be good for the field, but only if the material published is good enough to stand merit – in other words, (with apologies to Kyril and Brian Aldiss, paraphrasing the Editorial) it is well-written. And that’s my problem with this issue.

It is clear that there’s been some last-minute changes made to what is included here, and although there’s nothing really bad in this issue, much of it isn’t that good either. The Pippin Graham story was odd yet memorable, whilst the standout by far was the second Aldiss story. Normally this would be a cause for celebration, but it is a reprint. This is not the first time in Science Fantasy or New Worlds in recent months where the best material is old material – a worrying trend. Overall, an oddly underwhelming issue. Not bad but not great.

Let’s go to my second magazine.

The Second Issue At Hand

After last month’s focus on stories, we’re back to normal with Issue 151. There’s book reviews, science articles, letters – and some fiction.

 

The cover shows a change though. The un-credited image shows that we have (finally!) moved away from the circle covers to something less circular and more abstract. It is certainly colourful and grabs your attention, but is it science fiction?

The Editorial also raises the ongoing discussion of what is Science Fiction, a debate that has been going on for months, if not years. Moorcock tries to examine this further but spends much of his time eliminating what Science Fiction is not. The title, ‘Process of Elimination’ explains why. And its findings in the end? Not a lot, other than the definition should be broad rather than narrow. It then looks at how the American magazines have evolved to illustrate this, citing The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction as the best example of how to move on from Campbell’s rather restrictive definition in magazines like Analog. This seems to be a determined attempt to broaden the template of New Worlds, something which Moorcock has been determined to do since he took over as Editor.

 

The Ship of Disaster, by B. J. Bayley

Elen-Gereth – the elf who wants to be Elric.  Art by James Cawthorn.

When this one begins it feels like Bayley has been reading a lot of Moorcock’s Elric stories – the vessel named The Ship of Disaster is a ship captained by Elen-Gereth, an elf, who takes great delight in sinking a human trading vessel and taking hostage its captain, a human named Kelgynn. All of this wouldn’t be amiss in the seas around Elric’s Melnibone, though this lacks the panache of Moorcock’s version. Elen-Gereth is appropriately brooding and complex. However, a story that reads like it should be in Science Fantasy rather than New Worlds has the twist that makes it more science-fictional, although its connection to SF is relatively slight. 3 out of 5.

Apartness, by Vernor Vinge

This is the first story I’ve read from a relatively new American writer. Apartness is a post-apocalyptic tale, with the Earth’s Northern hemisphere destroyed two hundred years ago in the North World War. The regions of the South exist as disparate groups by using a strange combination of science and mysticism – astrologers make decisions based on scientific evidence, for example.

The story is essentially a conflict between two groups in the Antarctic. One of them is a group from the Southern countries and the other a new tribe found on a general observational recce. The twist in the story is that the new group is the offspring of two refugee ships, luxury cruise liners fleeing the conflict. There is talk about what to do with them – should they continue to be observed but undisturbed, or should they be decimated as the descendants of white oppressors?

I enjoyed it a lot and expect to read more of his writing in the future, although it does feel more like something for Analog and The Magazine of Fantasy and SF than New Worlds. But a promising start – I suspect we’ll see more from this talented new writer in the future. 3 out of 5.

Convolutions, by George Collyn

Appropriately dark art for a dark story.  Art by Douthwaite.

George Collyn returns with a story that is quite different to his last, which was In One Sad Day in the April 1965 issue. It is a story of the awakening of an alien that feeds on fear and finds Earth an suitable place for colonisation. One of those very common stories that begins with “Who am I?” and then “Where am I?” (See also Patricia Hocknell’s Prisoner in Science Fantasy this month.) 3 out of 5.

Last Man Home, by R. W. Mackelworth

R W Mackelworth has a tendency of writing strange tales with varying degrees of success. His last was the attempt to be humorous story, The Changing Shape of Charlie Snuff in the April 1965 issue. It didn’t work for me, but this story is less funny and more to my tastes. Even if it is yet another post-apocalyptic story. Here we have bowler-hatted Jennings, a wandering tinker who relates his experiences to us by describing what he has seen and who he has met on his travels in the post-nuclear wilderness. On his arrival in the city-state of Gat we find Jennings and his donkey companion Jess arrive to tell the city elders that there is life in the Wastelands and then returns there. There are positive signs of life, leaving a certain degree of optimism in the end. The emphasis is on what is around Jennings rather than Jennings himself. It’s fine, if too long, but I’ve read it all before – notable for its un-remarkableness. 3 out of 5.

The Life Buyer (Part 3 of 3), by E.C. Tubb

The Sand Pit of Terror! (Actually, Moondust – but you get the idea).  Art by aTom.

We begin the last part of this entertaining three-part serial by following Ransom, the suspect our two detectives Dale Markham and Steve Delmonte have been monitoring. Ransom is looking for Joe Langdy, a search that will take him to the Moon. The first few chapters of this part we spend following Ransom in his search, which is pretty pointless. The end of this revenge story is where the two detectives explain their solution as to who wants to kill millionaire Marcus King. It wraps everything up pretty quickly in the end. It’s a solid enough tale, with the moral that money can’t quite buy you everything. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

I’m really pleased to see the return of Book Reviews, Science Articles and Letters this month. I missed them last issue.

The Book Reviews seem to want to make up for their absence of last month by taking up what seems like more space than usual this time around. Assistant Editor Langdon Jones deals with the longer, more-in-depth reviews this month of A Man of Double Deed by Leonard Daventry, which is readable, and Sundog by B N Ball, which wasn’t. John Brunner’s Telepathist was surprisingly new and interesting, and seen by Langdon Jones as one of Brunner’s best, before ending with the cryptic comment that it “….will probably be the last really good novel of science fiction that we will see from British writers.”

There are minor reviews for Ray Bradbury’s ‘tremendous’ Something Wicked This Way Comes and Of Demons and Darkness by John Collier, which is ‘repetitive’. John Carnell’s story collection New Writings in SF 2 is given a one-sentence review of “not very interesting”. (And having tried to read it myself, I can only agree.)

Charles Platt gives us one in-depth review this month, under the title of Diary of a Schizoid Hypochondriac. He reviews Brian Aldiss’s Earthworks, which he describes as “a monotonous diary of a schizoid hypochondriac of dubious intelligence who is pushed around throughout the book, including an irrelevant three-chapter flashback, by Higher Powers, until finally discovering an Answer which was obvious to the reader two chapters previously.” Hmm – not a fan then, Mr. Platt?

Editor Mike Moorcock as James Colvin offers us seven ’Quick Reviews’ of After Doomsday and Shield by Poul Anderson, The Martian Way by Isaac Asimov, The Drowned World by J G Ballard, New Writings in SF 3 and Lambda 1 and Others both edited by John Carnell and The Seventh Galaxy Reader edited by Frederik Pohl.

As you might expect from Colvin/Moorcock, he is effusive about the Ballard and the Carnell collections, and more scathing of the American imports. He defends his opinion of Poul Anderson’s work (like Mr Platt earlier, he’s not a fan either), preferring Asimov’s The Martian Way because Asimov is better on the science and more tightly controlled in his writing.

He also makes the claim that although he thought The Magazine of Fantasy and SF was his favourite American magazine, reading The Seventh Galaxy Reader has made him change his mind. (Pause here whilst our reviewer of Galaxy here at Galactic Journey picks himself off the floor…)

One oddity: We have James Colvin, who remember is really Mike Moorcock, reviewing Warriors of Mars by Edward P Bradbury, who is really Mike Moorcock. Confused? An Edgar Rice Burroughs influenced story, it is unsurprisingly “as good as anything by the Old Master”. Hmm.

The article is Gas Lenses Developed for Communications by Laser, a title which describes the article admirably.

The Letters pages continue to debate the ongoing issue of what is science fiction, and therefore what should or shouldn’t be included in New Worlds.


Ratings this month for issue 149 (the April 1965 issue). Life Buyer (part 1) doing well. Lots of joint runners up, which suggests to me either few reader responses or an issue that divides readers.

Summing up New Worlds

This is a good solid issue, though rarely outstanding. I enjoyed it more than the ‘Star Issue’ last month, if I’m honest. The title story I’m not sure that I totally got, but the Tubb serial was nicely done, if a little drawn out. Vernor Vinge is a name to watch out for in the future, I think.

 

Summing up overall

Both issues this month are solid, yet rather mundane. Science Fantasy seems to have gone for more stories and a greater variety, New Worlds has fewer stories but is mostly based on work by more New Worlds regulars. Like last month, the most memorable story (Aldiss’s A Pleasure Shared) is in Science Fantasy, but New Worlds is better overall. It is a lot closer than last month, but in the end this month’s best issue for me is Science Fantasy.

And that’s it for this time. Until the next…




16 Comments Leave A Comment
Book

[May 24, 1965] Two faded stars (May Galactoscope #2)

1 Comment

May's second Galactoscope reviews the latest works by two of the field's titans. Sadly, it looks like their best contributions are behind them, as the following article will demonstrate:


by Rosemary Benton

Mind Barriers and Mental Talents (Andre Norton's Three Against Witch World)

Andre Norton is a gem among authors. She is able to write everything from short stories to novels in quick succession, continues to be picked up by publishers (no small feat in the writing world), and has been able to carve out a reputation for herself as an author who can write extensive background lore into her stories.

That being said, I feel like Norton is in a bit of a writing funk lately. It hasn’t slowed her down, but her writing is starting to feel unbalanced. In particular, the trait that once was her strength – world building – is starting to weigh down her work. By the end of Three Against the Witch World, the third and newest short novel in the Witch World series, Norton successfully introduces better character development with respect to the earlier entries, but the world building is still too overpowering.

The Next Generation

Three Against the Witch World begins with a very condensed introduction to the early lives of Simon Tregarth and Lady Jaelithe's triplets. Told from the first-person narratives of the children, we learn that the first two decades of life have not been easy for anyone in the nation of Estcarp.

After the destabilization of Karsten at the conclusion of Web of the Witch World, a warlord stepped up to fill the power vacuum left by the former ruler Yvian and his extra-dimensional allies, the humanoid beings called The Kolder. Between the Alizon nation, the remains of Karsten and the formidable Falconers, Estcarp is locked in a long term guerrilla war that is slowly bleeding them dry.

Amazingly, despite marrying Earth man Simon Tregarth and thereby disavowing her role as a Witch, Lady Jaelithe still retains traces of the innate magic known (allegedly) only to be accessible in select virginal women. Unsurprisingly, given that Simon is also a Power user (albeit one from another planet), the couple's triplets Kyllan, Kemoc, and Kaththea are also born with strong magical tendencies.

They are soon left on their own after their parents depart on vague and mysterious missions. Kyllan, Kemoc, and Kaththea must contend not only with the front-line defense of the Estcarp nation, but with the jealousy and hostile machinations of the power hungry Witch Council. The Women of Power are determined to undermine the influence of Simon and Jaelithe, and the best way to do that is to take their daughter Kaththea for their own ranks.

By 20 years old the triplets are adrift in a highly unstable time with no nearby allies in all of Estcarp. Upon the ruthless kidnapping of Kaththea by the Witches, Kyllan and Kemoc decide to journey forth into the larger world to gain information and allies crucial to reclaiming the safety of their family.

What follows is a journey across all mapped nations, even into the twisted and nebulous eastern regions of the world – a massive mountain range interspersed with magically tainted creatures. It is literally a place which people are incapable of imagining due to a powerful collective compulsion in the human population. It's a race against time to save Kaththea, save Estcarp and prevent a horrific ancient accident from being repeated in the name of protecting their homeland.

The Witch World Lives On

Sounds like an amazing story, right? It's certainly an interesting premise with a solidly entertaining, if grandiose, climax. But is it a good read?

As I've noted in my review of Norton’s Witch World(1963) and its subsequent installment, if you like fiction liberally layered with lore and societal structures you will find this series intriguing. But just like before, Three Against the Witch World leaves the audience wanting a deeper connection to the main characters.

My, Oh My, Is It Ever So Dry

Stories that sacrifice character development for world building only engage their audience for so long before boredom begins to surface. With Kyllan, Kemoc and Kaththea as the beacons through Three Against the Witch World, it is a comparatively less tedious task to read through the extensive world history of Norton's realm. Three is still massively overwritten, but at least we have the enjoyment of seeing some of the cast grow instead of remaining stagnant cardboard cutouts.

Admittedly the triplets are not completely unique. They are rather standard fantasy warrior, scholar and sorceress/witch characters, but they are given more individuality than the previous protagonists of the series. Kyllan and Kemoc's strategics get much keener via increasingly difficult obstacles they face. Limitations are realized for Kemoc as he pieces together the knowledge held in Lormt, ancient bastion of scholarship, and Kaththea has to adapt to her increasing power.

However, Norton continues to hold her characters at arm's length. Her writing in general has been suffering of late because of this tendency: she is much more prone to showing her characters in action rather than letting us into their heads. Thus, the changes we see the triplets go through still have but a superficial connection with the audience. In short, within Three Against the Witch World we see that the series is still tripping over itself to engage with its audience.

Three Strikes and You're Out

At three entries into the series, the Witch World books continue to feel like Norton is far more interested in telling us about the mechanics of her world rather than the people living within it.

For existing Witch World fans, Three Against the Witch World offers new races and mysterious god-like entities, and I did appreciate Norton's attempts at expanded characterization. Nevertheless, that's not enough to save the series. After reading three books in the same series, I should have more than the shallowest of connections with the main characters. I should have a strong desire to continue to read further installments about their lives. The fact is, after reading Witch World, I don't. I know that Andre Norton is capable of better as a word smith and a story teller. Unfortunately, Three Against the Witch World is only worthy of a two and a half star rating.

Subspace Explorers, by E. E. 'Doc' Smith

By Jason Sacks

I was never a fan of E. E. “Doc” Smith.

Okay, that’s kind of unfair. It’s not that I read the man’s work and didn’t like it. Instead, I decided at a relatively early age that I didn’t want to read his juvenile sci-fi novels.

While some of my closest sci-fi loving middle school friends loved Smith’s Galactic Patrol stories, I never read any of his work, and the one time I borrowed one of his books from a friend I just never got around to cracking the cover. Maybe I felt an odd sort of aversion because I wanted to defy my pal Danny Alvarado’s deep love for Smith – you know, the way boys create friendly rivalries over nothing.

But that may be psychoanalysis after the fact. More likely I didn’t read Smith because I always wanted to read above my age group. Why read juveniles when there was so much great material being published by the likes of Asimov, Dick and Clarke?

Since I had never read any Smith as a kid, now seemed the perfect time to try out ol’ Doc’s work. I’ve grown older and mellowed a bit in my tastes in the last few years. So when my fine editor offered to have one of us staffers review a limited edition publication of Smith’s latest novel, Subspace Explorers, I jumped at the chance. Why not try a classic author, albeit one in the twilight of his career? I could either validate my pal Danny’s passion or smugly smile at myself that I made the right choice to skip Smith.

Well, young Jason is vindicated.

Subspace Explorers by E.E. Smith
The rather bland cover of Doc Smith's latest novel

Subspace Explorers is an odd book. It’s breakneck space opera sci-fi juxtaposed against a sort of exploration of psionics which in turn is juxtaposed against a kind of screed about a battle between virtuous business leaders and corrupt trade unionists. If you’re wondering how these odd elements all fit together in the space of some 200 pages, well, the answer is that they don’t.

The sci-fi and psionic stuff works the best in this book. The first chapter sets the stage with a disaster in space and the few survivors of that battle. This section speeds along in a kind of hurtling, breathtaking tumble of events in which the action seems never to stop, no matter that readers don’t have much of an idea who these characters are.

Once all the action begins to play out, we find there are nine survivors of the accident: four mafiosos, a genius, two officers, and two women. One of the women has the amazing psionic ability to detect any metal in space. After the mobsters are defeated, the women and officers very quickly get married and each of the couples have a baby after a pregnancy which is elongated by their time in space. Their kids inherit the psionic abilities and form a union of explorers who drive the rest of the book.

Right there in that quick summary of the crazily energetic beginning, you can see the joys and flaws of this book. It’s got energy and thrills. It’s got oddball ideas and puzzling events. It’s got thin characters and arbitrary plotlines. It’s got a lot of good and a lot of bad and I’m not sure I want to get into the discussions of labor unions which might embarrass Barry Goldwater in their stridency.

Even there, I might have enjoyed this book either as a grouchy polemic or the rambling of “an old man screaming get off my lawn,” as they say. But the shambolic plot, which seems assembled from several half-finished novels with the barest plot threads to connect them all, left me more baffled and annoyed than thrilled. If Doc wanted to produce a fun throwback space opera, why add the strange political notes, and if he wanted to write a screed, why include classic cardboard characters with psionic powers to muddy the waters?

Doc himself

Publisher Canaveral Press is well known for their lovely Edgar Rice Burroughs reissues, most with lovely art by Roy Krenkel and J. Allen St. John. This book boasts of the same high production values as the Burroughs books. It’s just too bad this book isn’t nearly a match for those classics.

Maybe Smith can pull his disparate storylines together if he writes a sequel to Subspace Explorers, but for a book released in hardcover in a limited edition with a matching grand cover price, this is a tremendous disappointment. Sorry Danny. Hope we can still have lunch together and discuss more pleasant things.

2 stars.




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

[May 22, 1965] Goodbye and Hello (June 1965 Fantastic)

5 Comments


by Victoria Silverwolf

Departures and Arrivals

One of the more intriguing events this month was the death of a celebrity, although not one you're likely to see in the obituary column. A tortoise known as Tu'i Malila (meaning King Malila in the Tongan language, although she was female) died on the sixteenth of May. Why is this notable? Well, they say she was one hundred and eighty-eight years old, a ripe old age, even for a tortoise.

The story goes that Captain Cook gave her to the royal family of Tonga way back in 1777, making her nearly as old as the good old USA. Some dispute this story, although there is no doubt that she lived in Tonga for a very long time indeed. No stranger to royalty, she greeted the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth II when that monarch visited Tonga, a British protectorate, in 1953.


That's Elizabeth on the left, Tu'i Malila on the ground. You knew that, right?

As we bid farewell to this extraordinary reptile, we greet a new British import at the top of the American popular music charts. Herman's Hermits, hailing from Manchester, England, hit Number One this month with their version of Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter, a song first performed by actor Tom Courtenay in a British television play a couple of years ago.

Unlike many of the singers in British rock 'n' roll bands, lead man Peter Noone makes no attempt to disguise his accent. If anything, it sounds like he's exaggerating his Mancunian way of talking. (Yes, I just now learned the word Mancunian, and I'm showing off.)


Nobody in the band is named Herman. Go figure.

Exit Cele, Enter Joseph

My esteemed colleague John Boston has already reported, in fine detail, on the Ziff-Davis company selling Amazing and Fantastic to Sol Cohen. Editor Cele Goldsmith Lalli will remain with Ziff-Davis, working on their publication Modern Bride. Frankly, I think that's a step up for her, given the minimal interest that the publisher had in their fiction magazines.

Joseph Wrzos, using the more Anglo-Saxon name Joseph Ross, will be the editor, under the direction of Cohen. Fantastic will contain reprints from old issues of the two Ziff-Davis magazines, as will Amazing. The sister publications will alternate bimonthly publication. Of course, they will continue to publish new stories purchased by Lalli for a while, given the exceedingly slow way the publishing industry works. I hope that Wrzos will also offer previously unseen work once these run out.

As we lift a glass of champagne to Cele, and bid her a fond bon voyage as she sets sail for the world of wedding dresses and honeymoons, let's take a look at the last issue that will bear her name.


Cover art by Gray Morrow

Thelinde's Song, by Roger Zelazny

You may recall the story Passage to Dilfar in the February issue, which introduced the character Dilvish the Damned. He was a mysterious figure indeed, and that tale provided only hints as to his strange nature. This one gives us some of his background.

A young sorceress sings a ballad about Dilvish and the evil wizard Jelerak. Her mother warns her not to speak the name of the villain aloud, lest she draw the attention of one of his wicked minions. She then relates the encounter between the half-elf Dilvish and the sorcerer, as Jelerak was about to sacrifice a virgin in order to work his black magic.

Jelerak turned the heroic Dilvish into stone, and sent his soul to Hell. A couple of centuries later, Dilvish managed to return to life, this time with a talking steel horse as his mount. The rest of the story shows us why it's a bad idea to speak the name of Jelerak.

Although Dilvish only appears in flashback, he dominates the story, becoming a fascinating character. The author's style is poetic, creating a memorable sword-and-sorcery adventure. I hope we see more tales in this series.

Four stars.


This anonymous illustration appears at the end of the story. It has nothing to do with anything in the magazine.

The Destroyer, by Thomas N. Scortia

The setting is some time after a limited nuclear war, which apparently more-or-less destroyed Asia. The Western world, it seems, recovered nicely, leading to a society well on its way to a technological utopia. People travel by riding some kind of electromagnetic beams. For all intents and purposes, this is pretty much flying like Superman.

Anyway, the protagonist is the head of something called the Genetic Bank, which controls the manipulation of plant and animal genes. A government agent asks him to report any evidence of human genetic tampering, which is a crime so severe that it carries the only death penalty left on the book.

The hero investigates the case of a young boy named Julio. Although classified as severely mentally disabled, he has somehow managed to create a pair of magnetic blocks that produce a stream of energy between them.

Meanwhile, the main character's love interest, a woman just back from Titan, is dying from a fungus acquired on that moon of Saturn. When Julio removes a mole from the man's hand, just by thinking about it, you can predict what's going to happen at the end. Along the way the government agent gets involved in things, seeing Julio as a threat to the planet.

There are very few surprises in this tale of a kid with superhuman mental powers. The background is somewhat interesting, even if implausible. The premise that Earth folk have become timid and complacent, compared to those who explore the Solar System, was intriguing, but didn't lead to much. The notion that there is something inherently wrong with the accepted view of science, compared to the way the boy thinks, was unconvincing. Overall, I got the feeling that I've read this stuff before, as if it were a mediocre story from Analog.

Two stars.

The Penultimate Shore, by Stanley E. Aspittle, Jr.

A writer completely unknown to me spins a dream-like fantasy with hints of allegory. A man named Cipher winds up on a deserted shore after a shipwreck. Half-sunken into the ocean are the ruins of a city. He has visions of a boy and girl in the waves. A woman named Huitzlin, the Aztec word for hummingbird, emerges from the sea and becomes his lover. An old man called Thanatos shows up as well. It all leads up to Cipher's final fate.

I really don't know what to make of this story. It's full of beautiful and evocative descriptions, but the author's intention is opaque. The character's names are suggestive, but the symbolism is unclear, except for the way that Thanatos is explicitly connected with death. If nothing else, it made me think, which is a good thing, I suppose.

Three stars.

The Other Side of Time (Part Three of Three), by Keith Laumer

Our universe-hopping narrator escapes from the prehistoric world where he wound up last time with the help of his ape-man buddy from another reality. The hairy fellow explains that the evil folks from yet another parallel cosmos — another type of ape-men — destroyed the hero's home world.

All seems lost, until the buddy suggests that it might be possible to travel to that universe in such a way that the narrator arrives there before it's wiped out. In a nutshell, time travel.

The hero shows up just a short time before things are going to go very badly indeed. Not only does he face the menace of the invading ape-men, he has to convince the local authorities of his identity. Then there's the mysterious burning figure he encountered in the first installment; what does that have to do with anything?

After the relatively calm mood of the second part, the conclusion of the novel returns to the frenzied pace of the first part. There's also a lot of scientific double talk to try to justify the odd way that time travel operates in this story. It held my interest, even if I didn't believe in anything that was happening for a moment. Compared to the highly enjoyable middle section, the rest of the novel is merely a decent enough science fiction action yarn.

Three stars.


Another piece of filler art. I actually like this abstract image.

The Little Doors, by David R. Bunch

Two pages of pure surrealism from the the magazine's most controversial author. Some white egg-shaped things come out of the little doors of the title and onto an egg-shaped stage. Rectangular black things show up, open the lids of the egg-things, put pieces of themselves inside, and pull out small stones of multiple colors.

If the author is trying to make some kind of serious point, he doesn't help matters by called the stage ogg, the white things loolbools, and the black things guenchgrops. Maybe it's just my dirty mind, but I got the feeling that this was some kind of bizarre metaphor for human reproduction. I have to give it a little credit for sheer weirdness.

Two stars.


Has someone been doodling on the page?

Phog, by Piers Anthony

The inhabitants of a strange world face the menace of a seemingly sentient cloud of poisonous gas, as well as the deadly beast that lurks inside it. After losing his sister to the thing, a boy grows up to build an elaborate trap for it. Capturing and destroying the cloud and the creature is not at all easy, coming only at great cost.

The author certainly shows plenty of imagination. The way in which the young man uses sunlight, the cloud's only weakness, is interesting. Other than that, the plot proceeds just about the way you expect it to.

Three stars.

Silence, by J. Hunter Holly

Because the Noble Editor wishes to keep track of the number of female authors published in the genre magazines, allow me to point out the J stands for Joan. She's published half a dozen or so science fiction novels. I believe this is her first short story to see the light of day.

In an overpopulated future full of noisy gadgets, the level of sound increases to the point where people no longer hear. Their ears still work, you understand; it's just that their brains turn off the sensation of hearing. Music is just something that causes needles to move around on dials.

The protagonist is one such musician. He regains his hearing, in a society that has completely forgotten about sound, by blocking out all sources of noise, until his brain regains its lost function. His attempt to bring his rediscovery of real music to audiences leads to an ironic ending.

The premise is intriguing, if not the most believable one in the world. I found it hard to accept that music would survive in the way the story suggests among people who can't hear it. I'll admit that I liked the downbeat conclusion.

Three stars.

Before We Say Farewell

We have a typical issue of the magazine, with some high points, some low points, and a lot in the middle. I'd like to take a moment to look back on the editor's time with the publication. She introduced promising new writers like LeGuin, Disch, and Zelazny, who have already proved their worth. More questionably, she published the unique work of Bunch, which certainly tests the limits of fantastic literature. She also helped Leiber get back to the typewriter, which justifies her career all by itself. I'm sure we all wish her well in her new line of work.

Thanks, Cele!




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

[May 20th, 1965] Monokini: The Madness Continues!

2 Comments


by Gwyn Conaway

The Monokini, featured in orange. The Pope, Denmark, Greece, and the Netherlands have all banned it.

With summer on the verge, everyone’s attention is turning to swimwear, and I don’t think anyone will be talking about anything but Rudi Gernreich’s Monokini for a good while! The fashion activist is known for stirring up the hornet’s nest of Western sensibilities, apropos of his personal history and artistic goals. Let’s take a look at his past, and also at his shocking beachwear.

Rudi Gernreich, 1964.

Bear with me as I tell you of Rudi Gernreich’s childhood. He grew up in Vienna, Austria, the son of a stocking maker. He spent his afternoons in his aunt’s dress shop where he would sketch designs and share them with her clients. At age twelve, he was offered an apprenticeship by designer Ladislaus Zettel in London, but his mother declined due to his age.

His dress shop days did more than just betray his talent for fashion though. He recounts his first explorations of sexuality in fashion, and the liberation of women through their candid conversations in his young presence. His homeland was known also for promoting nude exercise during the time, in defiance of Western norms as much as for health. In 1938, Adolf Hitler banned this practice, and a sixteen year old Rudi fled Austria with his widowed mother for Los Angeles.

It was at this point that he began studying the arts in earnest. He attended the Los Angeles City College, and then the renowned Los Angeles Art Center School. He fell into fashion design some time after, a winding road that included dance and costume design, and a rejection of the American obsession with Parisian sophistication. He also helped found the Mattachine Society, a gay rights organization, in 1950.

Over the years, Gernreich's activist heart and artistic genius have formed a close bond, resulting in the scandalous Monokini. But we should have seen this scandal coming. In 1962 he predicted its arrival, saying that “bosoms will be uncovered within five years” in Women’s Wear Daily. And much to my amusement, he was recently quoted as saying that, for the sake of history, he had to fulfill his own prophecy before Emilio Pucci.

Peggy Moffit, photographed by husband William Claxton, in the infamous Monokini. It was named for its counterpart the bikini. A nice but inaccurate play on words. The bikini is named for the Bikini Atoll, an island used by the US for nuclear testing.

The result is the Monokini. Despite exposing the bust, it actually covers more skin than the bikini with its high-waisted bottom. Straps bisect the bust and run over the shoulders. In another nod to tradition and conservatism, the swimsuit is made of the same woolen fabric used in Victorian swimwear.

Women in 1925, wearing wool bathing suits. The material choices and shape of the Monokini speak to one of Gernreich's overarching goals in art: to humanize women rather than sexualize them through the freedom of their bodies.

The Monokini is a statement rather than merchandise. Although it’s currently on shelves, Gernreich has stated he doesn’t expect to sell any, and hadn’t intended to. In fact, he had to be persuaded to even take photos, calling on muse Peggy Moffit to wear it, and her creative cohort of a husband William Claxton to photograph it.

The journey of just the photographs itself is truly interesting. Look published the first photograph, from the back. Women’s Wear Daily followed suit, showing it from the front. When Gernreich approached Life about publishing the photos, their letter in response claimed they only print “aborigine” women’s breasts. (I would love to know Gernreich, Moffit, and Claxton’s thoughts on this! I hope notions such as this are abolished in quick fashion.) The image that lit the world on fire was accepted by Life however: Moffit with her arms crossed, covering her chest.

Despite Western reactions to the Monokini, Gernreich’s interests actually lay in the emancipation of women from over-sexualization and social censorship. He challenges the shameful gaze in Western beliefs, and tries to push society to see women as human beings rather than ‘other’. I find his work to be incredibly engaging and thoughtful, far more so than the tabloids make the Monokini out to be.

If the Monokini doesn’t single-handedly push us towards a moderate view of the human body, I’m sure Gernreich’s work in the next decade will!




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 18, 1965] Rubber Ball (or Skip the End) (June 1965 Fantasy & Science Fiction)

8 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Bouncin' Back to You

Cast your memories back to the distant past — about four years. Remember when Bobby Vee exploded on the scene with his first hit, Rubber Ball.

It's a song about a fellow who should know better than to stick with an untrue love but, like a rubber ball, keeps coming back to her anyhow.  The tune came to my mind more than once as I read this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction, a magazine that has plumbed depths often enough to tempt me to cancel my subscription, but on occasion (like this one) produces such an excellent issue that I remember the good times of the 1950s, and love is rekindled.

Is it the doing of new editor Joe Ferman?  Statistical variation?  Either way, it was a pleasure to read.  Come join me and see why:

Bounce my heart around


by James Roth

Admiralty, by Poul Anderson

We begin with an ending of sorts, the conclusion to the exploits of Gunnar Heim, late of the Federation Navy, now a privateer savaging the Aleriona patch of stars known as The Phoenix.  His goal, to prosecute an undeclared war to liberate the conquered human world of New Europe before its inhabitants run out of Vitamin C, is about to come to fruition.  But how can one ship achieve victory against a starfaring empire?  More personally, will an old flame of Heim's be waiting for him planetside when all is said and done?

Admiralty is Anderson near the top of his form, which, like a sine wave, has definite positive and negative amplitudes.  What makes the piece frustrating is its incompleteness.  This novella and the other two that have recently appeared in F&SF are about to be compiled into a book called The Star Fox, and I strongly suspect that there will be expansions above and beyond what has appeared in the magazines.  Indeed, some of the most exciting episodes in Admiralty, like the capture of the Aleriona prize, Meroeth, are dispatched in a paragraph or two of exposition.  What remains is something of a Readers Digest abridged version — entertaining but dissatisfying.

Also, I wish Anderson wouldn't assume that we all speak French; there are paragraphs and paragraphs of the stuff that go largely untranslated.  I'm going to start sending him letters in Japanese…

Anyway, four stars, for this and the whole sequence, and I suspect the book will be even better.  Certainly Hugo material.

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, by Fredric Brown and Carl Onspaugh

Dooley Hanks, a clarinetist of modest talent but tremendous desire, scours the world looking (listening?) for The Sound.  When he finds it, in an obscure town in Germany, the temptation to claim it for his own becomes overpowering…and hazardous.

A powerful story, evocative and beautifully told, it's the kind of reworked fable Robert F. Young wishes he could write.

Five stars.


by Gahan Wilson — better than his previous ones

Books, by Judith Merril

Normally, I don't give inches to the book column, but Ms. Merril is cutting and insightful in a way I can only hope to approximate. Don't miss her take on the latest SF to cross her desk (many of which have been covered by the Journey).

Rake, by Ron Goulart

Ben Jolson, shape-changing agent of the Chameleon Corps, is back for another adventure.  This time, in the guise of a student, he's investigating the development of a super-weapon by an academic ensconced at a public college.

This tale is far more obviously slapstick than his previous one, which I had quite liked.  Rake is just too silly, too random to be very good, and there's no reason for such a short piece to begin in medias res followed by a flashback to How It All Began.

Two stars.

Phoenix (the Science Springboard), by Theodore L. Thomas

Normally, Thomas' non-fiction vignettes, more story seed than article, aren't worth the two pages they're printed on.  This time, I quite liked his postulation that at the center of every gas giant lies a terrestrial core.  I don't know if it's accurate; I don't know how we could verify the accuracy, but it is an exciting idea that the planets of the solar system all started out as roughly similar planetoids that grew atmospheres as time went on.  Only the inner ones lost theirs because it was too warm so close to the Sun.

Of course, it's easy to make models that fit the one set of data we have.

Four stars, anyway.

The Ancient Last, by Herb Lehrman

The first of two reader-submitted stories fulfilling the call for tales involving Univac and Unicorns.  This is the more poetic of the pair.  Interestingly, its poignant ending is somewhat marred by two additional paragraphs; because the offending superfluity occurs on a following page, I didn't originally see them, and I thought the ending was stronger than it ended up being.

Funny enough, I was recently rejected by F&SF, whose editor suggested I trim out my terminal line to give the ending more punch.  I did.  We'll see how it does.

Stand-In, by Greg Benford

Another first from a fellow San Diego native.  This Univac/Unicorn story is more swinging and fun, but not particularly consequential.

I give three stars to both.  I'm glad the authors got their breaks and I hope this sets them on their way to stardom.

Story of a Curse, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Earth spacers are forever restless in search of change, intolerant of stagnation.  But when Earth, itself, has changed, the astronauts see the folly of their wanderlust.

Long on emotion, short on coherence, Story is more prose-poem than science fiction.  I liked it well enough, though.  Three stars.

Nabonidus, by L. Sprague de Camp

Archaeologist meets a ghostly colleague of ancient vintage.  This poem has a strange meter, but again, it's appealing.  Three stars.

Future? Tense!, by Isaac Asimov

In a surprise disappointment, the science column is probably my least favorite piece of the issue.  The Good Doctor begins by relating how on-the-spot he feels when asked to predict the future, then says he'll do it anyway, and then doesn't really do it at all.

At a recent bookstore interview, I was asked if a science fiction story's value is based on its predictive accuracy.  I felt that the answer I gave ("No — its value is in how well it entertains; science fiction can't predict the future; it can only extrapolate current trends.") was better and more succinct than the one Dr. A offers.

Two stars.

Of Time and the Yan, by Roger Zelazny

The Last Man of Earth meets the Last Man of Mars; unfortunately, time is not on the side of humanity.

Zelazny increasingly makes his stories more affectedly "literate."  It may get his stories sold, but it's getting tedious.  Two stars.  (Your hue and cry tells me I'm a too-harsh boor.  I do not disagree.)

Jabez O'Brien and Davy Jones' Locker, by Robert Arthur

Lastly, here is the tale of a young New England fisherman who seeks to win fame, fortune, wisdom and happiness through the capture of a mermaid.  Instead, he winds up…well, best not to spoil this gem of a story.

It's an absolutely charming work, the best I've seen from Mr. Arthur, and made all the better for my imagining it being narrated by Fractured Fairy Tale's Edward Everett Horton (now you'll have his voice in your head, too!)

Five stars.

My heartstrings, they just snap

In the end, even this issue bounces around like a rubber ball, but the pages of quality far outnumber the momentary lapses.  The June 1965 issue of F&SF is a stand-out…and my love is rekindled.

Don't break my heart, Joe!

Don't forget to register for our show on May 23 at 1PM DT!  We really want to see you there and hear your questions.





https://event.webinarjam.com/register/34/3q3prsl6

8 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy

The 1965 Hugo ballot is out!

3 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

This year's Worldcon will be in London this year, and they've already released the names of the nominees for the 1965 Hugo Award (for the best science fiction of 1964):

Since the Journey has covered virtually everything on the list, we've created a little crib sheet so you can vote in an educated fashion.

Also, we'll be talking about this ballot on May 23rd at 1PM PDT on a special broadcast of KGJ Channel 9 — so please tune in and join us in the discussion!

Best Novel:

Davy — It made Honorable Mention last year (I've only read the two novelettes that comprise the bulk of the story).  Cora's reviewed it.

The Planet Buyer — Really just a slightly expanded version of The Boy Who Bought Old Earth, which really shouldn't be judged alone, finished as it is by The Store of Heart's Desire.  Anyway, it got the Star, and I reviewed both.

The Wanderer — It, pointedly, did not get a Star.  Jason reviewed it.

The Whole Man — It got honorable mention.  Victoria Silverwolf reviewed it.

Best short story:

Little Dog Gone — VS reviewed it.  She gave it 4 stars, and I think that's fair.  It's fine, but no one nominated it for a Star.

Once a Cop — I reviewed it and I did nominate this one for the Star.

Soldier, Ask Not — I reviewed it.  It got nominated for the Star (not by me, but enough others did, and it was good enough not to merit argument).

Best Pro Magazine:

Your mileage may vary! However, we did meticulously rank them when we awarded the Stars last year.

Best Fanzine:

Double Bill A quarterly of news, articles, fanzine reviews, some poetry (genzine), and some big names slumming.  Two years old.

Yandro A venerable monthly that has been nommed for the Hugo a zillion times.  Another genzine.

Zenith A new genzine, probably a monthly (I haven't read this one)

[I should probably read all of the genzines more regularly, but my — 'zine plate is full with the news 'zines: Science Fiction Times, Ratatosk, and Fecal Pint…er Focal Point.]

Best Artist:

Ed Emshwiller

Frank Frazetta — he's pretty much escaped my ken this year, but here's a recent book cover:

Jack Gaughan

John Schoenherr

Best Publisher:

Ace Plenty of good stuff there including Delany's Towers of Toron, a lot of Andre Norton, and Purdom's excellent I Want the Stars.

Ballantine They did Davy, Martian Time Slip, but also The Wanderer and The Reefs of Space (in itself not bad, but the sequel was awful).  Also, lots of Burroughs reprints.

Gollancz Not quite so busy as the first two, and no titles that got the Star, but some decent ones in there.

Pyramid The weakest of them, to my mind, and the one (aside from Ace) I read the most from last year.

Best Dramatic Presentation:

Seven Faces of Dr. Lao, reviewed by Vicki Lucas, nominated for the Star.

Dr. Strangelove, reviewed by Rosemary Benton, awarded the Star.

Y'all Come

We want your opinion at our upcoming show, so please register — it's free, and it'll ensure you are promptly notified of our upcoming shows.

See you there!





https://event.webinarjam.com/register/34/3q3prsl6

3 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[May 16, 1965] Gathering Dust (Doctor Who: The Space Museum)

3 Comments


By Jessica Holmes

Thank you for joining me today, everybody. I hope we’ve all got our visitor’s passes and will be keeping our hands to ourselves, because today we’re going to be taking a tour of The Space Museum, and the main exhibit? The Doctor and his companions! Today’s serial was written by Glyn Jones.

The spaceship graveyard, with museum centre frame.

THE SPACE MUSEUM

If I may direct your attention to the opening of the episode, we can see that it picks up where it left off, with the TARDIS going dark. We then cut to a barren landscape dotted by rockets, among which the TARDIS materialises.

The crew seems dazed upon landing, and once the Doctor gets the lights back on, Ian and Barbara realise that somehow, they’ve changed their whole outfits.

Ian and the Doctor examine the ground.I used to wear socks like that for primary school…

We have a scene of Vicki getting water for the Doctor, only to drop the glass, spilling the water, which then un-spills and comes back to her hand. It’s a simple enough effect, but rather nifty, and it seems things might be a whole lot weirder than a change of wardrobe.

Upon viewing the spaceships outside, the Doctor comes to suspect, as they’re all from different time periods, that they’ve landed in some sort of museum. I wonder if they have a little shop? I like a little shop.

The group search for signs of life, leaving no footprints behind them as they walk. The gang soon find a building and some more people. They rush to hide, but when Vicki sneezes, it’s as if they didn’t hear her at all.

Two men pass by in the foreground as Vicki sneezes in the background.

Perhaps unwisely, the group enters the building to look around without even buying a ticket.

The gang get a nasty shock upon discovering the first item of interest. It’s a Dalek. A dead Dalek. Vicki, never having met the fiends, thinks it looks quite friendly. I really do love Vicki’s soft spot for creatures others might deem monstrous. Well, they’d be absolutely right in the case of the Dalek, but still. It’s sweet.

They have another run-in with some men, whose lips move but make no sound. That almost sounds like the opening to a riddle.

Think things can’t get any stranger? Think again! Caving to the urge to touch the shiny space exhibits, Vicki tries poking at an item only to find that her arm goes straight through. None of the others can touch it either, and a third group of men come by, looking right through them without seeing them.

Sorry, guys, but there’s only one conclusion: the TARDIS blew up and you’re all ghosts. I can think of worse places to haunt than a museum, so it’s not all bad.

The companions watch as the Doctor stands in the space where the TARDIS seems to be.My gut instinct says Pepper's Ghost so just take my word for it, okay?

Onwards, they find something quite unexpected: the TARDIS, but not where they originally left it. Still, one shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth so they decide they might as well get in and go home for a nice cup of tea and some custard creams. Of course, it’s not that easy. The TARDIS isn’t really there. Or is it? Perhaps they’re the ones who aren’t really there.

Out of curiosity, I did a bit of research to find out how they achieved this visual effect. In conclusion: I’m not sure, and that irks me. My guess is either a double exposure or Pepper’s Ghost.

Or magic.

Something wicked this way comes, for in the room holding the TARDIS, the crew find themselves. Literally.

The four main characters as exhibits in a museum.

It seems the gang’s exploits have earned them a spot in the museum. These aren’t dummies though, oh no. These are the real people, preserved and shoved into a glass cabinet to gather dust for eternity.

The gang arrive at the conclusion that what they’re seeing is their future, or at least a possible version of it. There’s a bit of technobabble about dimensions in time and jumping time tracks that I can’t quite wrap my head around, but the bottom line is that the reason they can’t interact with anything in the museum is that they haven’t actually arrived yet, but are in another time dimension seeing the museum as it will be after they’ve arrived and done…something or other.

Don’t worry, it gives me a bit of a headache too.


It's hard to get an interesting image of people waiting for something interesting to happen.

The Doctor decides that they should wait around for themselves to actually arrive, at which point time should sort itself out and things will progress as normal.

But…but wouldn’t they still be moving forwards in time so that their true-present selves would never actually catch up with their slightly-out-of-sync-with-the-rest-of-spacetime selves?

Let’s upgrade that headache to a migraine, shall we?

It doesn’t take long before there’s some sort of reversal of time. Two men discover the TARDIS, and the glass cases disappear, and the footprints in the sand turn up.

I might need a diagram to get this straight.

So, the serial opens with an interesting and often creepy episode. The sterile atmosphere of the museum and the deep quiet of the space creates an uncanny feeling, and appropriately enough a sense that there is no time in this place at all. We’ve got some interesting visual effects on display too, and although I do find the explanation of the time-bending shenanigans to be quite confusing, I do find it an interesting idea. Can the companions discover what led them to be museum pieces in time to avert their fate, or are they going to have to find out the hard way?

The Morok governor and his lieutenant.
Nice hairdo.

THE DIMENSIONS OF TIME

I think it’s about time some other characters were introduced, don’t you? Say hello to the curators of this museum, the Moroks. They’re not doing anything very interesting right now apart from talking about some rebellion and finding the TARDIS.

Speaking of rebellion, say hello to the Xerons and their fascinating eyebrows. They’ve also learned of the arrival of a new ship, and hope to attain the assistance of the new arrivals.

Said arrivals are currently flouting the ‘do not touch’ rule and nicking one of the guns on display. Ian, grown man that he is, even makes the appropriate noises as he waves it around. Don’t worry Ian, I’m not judging you… much.

The Doctor tells Ian, a grown man, that guns are not toys.

The Doctor decides that to avoid the future they’ve seen, they should try and find the TARDIS as soon as possible. However, that’s easier said than done, because this museum doesn’t have any signposts. Not even one of those handy wall maps with a big red dot saying ‘you are here’.

As the group travel, the Xerons nab the Doctor in a moment of distraction, and the Doctor bravely drops down and pretends to be dead. It doesn’t take long for Ian and Barbara to realise the Doctor’s gone missing, and start bickering like a pair of stressed parents wondering the whereabouts of an errant child, and if that doesn’t sum up their entire dynamic I don’t know what does.

Two of the Xerons make the mistake of leaving one of their number alone with the Doctor for more than five minutes, returning to find their comrade bound and gagged on the floor, and the Doctor nowhere to be seen.

This precedes the single best scene in all of Doctor Who. I’m not exaggerating. I cannot do justice to the sheer joy this scene brought me.

We slowly pan across to see the Dalek on display come to life, and from within comes a familiar voice.

The Doctor does a delightful Dalek impression as he congratulates himself on his cleverness, even waving the weapons around for good measure, and popping out of the hatch with an expression of pure glee.

The Doctor pops out of his hiding place.

He’s a little too pleased with himself, however, as it takes him all of about ten seconds to run right into some Moroks on patrol and get himself captured.

The others, meanwhile, are still lost. While wondering what to do Ian has a bright idea and starts taking Barbara’s clothes off. As you do.

Don’t worry, the programme is still perfectly suitable for a family audience. Ian’s had the idea to use the wool in her cardigan to leave a trail behind them, like Theseus and the Minotaur, so that they don’t end up going round and round in circles. It’s not long before the Xerons start to follow the thread too, and the companions discover that the TARDIS has fallen into the hands of the Moroks.

Ian tries to unravel a cardigan with his teeth.Ian demonstrating how NOT to unpick a piece of knitwear.

The Doctor finds himself in the company of the governor of the Moroks, who explains to him this is a museum dedicated to the military conquests of the Morok Empire, though interest has waned of late. It seems the people of the homeworld are more interested in enjoying life than ending it in insatiable imperial expansion. The Doctor suggests that they try reducing the price of admission.

The Morok asks where the Doctor’s companions are, getting naught but a giggle from him. However, he then shows the Doctor an image of the companions elsewhere in the museum. How did he get it? From the Doctor’s mind.

The governor interrogates the Doctor

The interrogation isn’t as easy as all that however, as it seems the Doctor has excellent control over his mind, and when asked how he arrived, thinks of a penny farthing, and when asked where he’s from, imagines a colony of walruses, followed by a picture of himself in an old-fashioned bathing suit. It’s quite funny.

The fun and games can’t last, however, as the governor becomes angry when his men can’t find the companions, and orders that the Doctor be taken to the preparation room. He’s to become an exhibit.

THE SEARCH

The Moroks can’t get into the TARDIS, much to the lamentation of the leader of this little band.

Here’s one of the issues of the serial. The conflict within the Moroks themselves is… boring. It’s just dull as ditchwater, and the performances are not strong enough to carry it on entertainment value or get me invested in any of the characters. What are their names? I don’t know and I don’t care.

Three Moroks outside the TARDIS
Do you think they realise how ridiculous they look?

Even the wider conflict between the Moroks and the Xerons is not interesting to me. We’ve seen it plenty of times before in Doctor Who, and done better. I think what the writer’s trying to do is ambitious, but it feels very flat to me. Unfortunately, it gets more attention than the strange time travel shenanigans, so it’s really dragging down the serial, and it’s only going to get worse.

Watching this bickering going on, the companions let down their guard long enough for one of the Moroks to find them, and Ian confronts the armed guard with impressive courage and questionable judgement. He figures that the guard can’t shoot him, as he knows he ends up in a glass box. Even if he does, well hurrah for averting the future. Well, I suppose either outcome is a success of sorts.

Ian stares down the barrel of a gun, with Barbara and Vicki behind him.
Ian faces the guard, while behind him, Barbara prepares to use Vicki as a human shield.

Ian tackles the guard, giving the others a chance to make a run for it, and there’s rather a good and well-choreographed fight scene following his ensuing capture. Often fight scenes in Doctor Who are shot quite close up and are hard to make much out of, and those that are shot more clearly often look absurd, but this one is both clear and believable. At the end of it, he’s left two Moroks out cold, as the others left in pursuit of the women.

The women are separated in the chase, with Barbara ending up trapped in a storage room, and Vicki running into the rebel Xerons. Thankfully, the Xerons are friendly, and one of them goes to look for Barbara while the others lead Vicki to their hideout.

Ian hides behind the TARDIS, unseen by the guard.

So, how did Ian escape the Moroks after his victory in the tussle? Well, apparently by virtue of the Moroks being utter clattering buffoons, that’s how. You want to know where he went? His brilliant hiding spot? Behind the flipping TARDIS. Just behind it. And somehow, the guard stationed outside the ship fails to notice him.

Ian surprises the guard and takes him hostage, holding him at gunpoint as he demands information and guidance. This is another thing that bothers me.

Yes, we know Ian is the action hero of the group. Yes, Ian’s absolutely killed people. However, all his kills have been in the heat of the moment, when his own life was in danger, and it’s quite disturbing to see him carry on for the rest of the episode threatening to shoot this guard in cold blood. Wouldn’t Ian instead try to bring the guard around to his side before resorting to threats of violence? This is a cold, angry Ian and it doesn’t seem like him to be this way. Besides all that, it doesn’t seem a good message to be sending to the younger viewers. ‘Why try talking to people when threats of violence will work just fine?’

Ian brandishes his gun.

The governor of the Moroks receives word from his home planet that they’re displeased the youth rebellion hasn’t been crushed yet, and gives the order to flood the museum with a poisonous gas that will paralyse everyone inside, to flush out the intruders.

Putting it that way, it seems a little flawed.

One of the Xerons manages to find Barbara, but before they can find the others the gas cloud envelops them and they have to flee.

Meanwhile, the others are explaining to Vicki that this is their world, that the Moroks committed genocide on the native population, wiping out the adults and enslaving the children. Is that meant to get me invested, three quarters of the way into the serial? No need to actually show us the oppression the Xerons face, or give us much in the way of emotional stakes, just throw in a line about mass murder and voila, you have an invested audience, right? Wrong.

The Xerons eat dinner with Vicki.

To get invested in a conflict, I need to be shown a reason to care about it early on, rather than have a lump of exposition spat at me most of the way through. Beyond that, this narrative of ‘rebellion against the conquerors’ feels like a retreading of the conflict in The Web Planet, but it’s much less interesting.

So, how’s the dullest rebellion in the galaxy going to overthrow their oppressors? Well, they haven’t actually worked that out. The youth have been making all sorts of grand plans, but the fact is they don’t have any weapons and no plan to get some. What they do have is knowledge of where to find the armoury, and a smart ally by the name of Vicki.

Vicki tampers with the machine while the Xerons watch.

Vicki examines the security equipment guarding the armoury. It’s a machine that asks questions, and can tell if the subject is lying. Of course, just telling the truth isn’t enough to get in, you have to be telling the truth about your credentials, permits, valid reason for accessing the armoury, and on and on the questions go. Understanding how the machine works, Vicki cracks it open to take a look inside, and tampers with the equipment, making it so that all that’s needed is the truth, not the credentials.

Well, that’s a bit of a rubbish security system if it can be tampered with that easily. Had none of the Xerons ever thought to try it?

However, with one small victory, elsewhere things go awry, as the gas overcomes Barbara and the other Xeron.

Ian manages to make his way to the governor’s office, and orders him to take him to the Doctor… but he doesn’t like what he finds.

The Doctor, unconscious.

THE FINAL PHASE

To his dismay, Ian finds the Doctor unconscious in the preparation room. The Moroks have put him into a deep freeze, and according to the governor he’s as good as dead. Ian demands that they reverse the procedure, or else.

Having successfully broken into the armoury, the rebels arm themselves, while Vicki goes back to the museum to rescue the others, taking one of the young men with her.

Inside the museum, Barbara and her companion start to recover from the gas. Well, that was a bit pointless, wasn’t it? Surely it’d be better if the effects took a long time to wear off, so the guards could remove the gas then search the museum without their targets being able to move around.

The Doctor ends up at gunpoint.

The Doctor’s temperature returns to normal, and he wonders if this has been enough to change the future. However, the Moroks, having noticed that the guard outside the TARDIS has disappeared, swoop in on them, knocking Ian out and taking the pair captive once more. Well, that was a bit of a narrative cul-de-sac.

Barbara and her companion continue making their way out of the museum, but a guard hears them coming, and lies in wait to capture them.

The Moroks regroup, and it seems that their victory is close at hand. However, when they try to get a message through to their barracks, they don’t get a reply.

Barbara and her companion up against the wall at gunpoint.

Barbara and her companion emerge from the museum, only to run into the waiting guard. But before their escape can be foiled, Vicki and her friend show up and shoot the guard down. The victory doesn’t last long, as more Moroks arrive and shoot the youth rebels, taking the women captive. Again.

Well, with all the gang captured, at least everybody’s together now. It seems there is nothing they can do to avoid becoming exhibits, but maybe they managed to change more than they thought. The youth storm the museum, having managed to overrun the barracks which happened off-screen probably so that people like me won’t ask questions about how a bunch of teenage boys who have never held a gun managed to overrun a barracks of well-equipped soldiers of an interplanetary empire.

The Moroks are about to cut their losses and make a run for it, but the rebels arrive before the Moroks can dispatch the companions. They wipe them out, and with that, the revolution is won. That is about as interesting as I can make it sound without just making things up.

The Xerons make their attack.

The gang avoid becoming museum pieces, and the future has been averted. The Doctor at last reveals why the weird time shenanigans were going on. Prepare to sigh deeply with me.

It’s a faulty TARDIS component.

Seriously? Nothing to do with the actual plot? That is boring and just plain lazy. With it being so disconnected, the time travel is little more than a gimmick thrown in to make a below-average rebellion story feel more impressive and complex than it actually is. I strongly feel that the element of time travel could have been integrated into the story far better than it actually was, rather than being dropped after the first episode. I could think of a few ways I myself would go about doing it, but perhaps I would be asking for a different story than the one the writer set out to tell.

The Doctor shows Ian and Barbara the faulty component.

The Xerons dismantle the museum, but not before the Doctor liberates a souvenir, in the form of a time and space visualiser. I suppose it’s like a television you can watch next week’s Coronation Street on.

Everyone says their farewells and the TARDIS leaves for parts unknown. However, somewhere else in space, a familiar foe glides into view…

A real Dalek

Final Thoughts

This is unusual for me, as a person incapable of shutting up, but I can’t think of anything else to say about this serial. There’s not really anything much to dig into. Sure, the serial poses the question of whether destiny can be altered, but then answers it with a resounding ‘yes’, so there’s nothing I can add to that. It was all right, I suppose. I'll probably have forgotten about it by this time next week.

I really am wracking my brains trying to think of something interesting to say, but there’s nothing to elaborate on that I didn’t discuss above. So, I suppose that’s my takeaway: so adequate-but-no-better that even I can’t wring a good long ramble out if it.

Well, let’s hope there’s a bit more to get our teeth into next time, okay?

Please exit through the gift shop.

3 out of 5 stars




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

[May 14, 1965] Keep A Civil Tongue In Your Head (July 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)

3 Comments


by Victoria Silverwolf

The Four Forbidden Topics

Gathered around the dinner table with the family, or just chatting with friends, it's generally a good idea to avoid controversial subjects. Religion and politics, for example, are likely to lead to unpleasant arguments. Maybe Uncle Fred is a Goldwater buff, and Cousin Sue goes all the way with LBJ. Possibly you've got buddies who belong to different faiths, or none at all. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, and talk about something else.

The topic of money, or economics in general, may not be as controversial, but talking about how much you've got, or what somebody else earns, is generally considered to be in bad taste. As for sex, well, that's usually too personal to discuss, particularly if the kiddies are around.

Maybe it's a sign of the times, or maybe it's the influence of the British New Wave on science fiction, but the lead serial in the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow deals with religion, politics, and economics. That leaves sex, which shows up at the end of the magazine, like a tempting dessert.


Cover art by John Pederson, Jr.

Of Godlike Power (Part One of Two), by Mack Reynolds


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan

As indicated in the picture above, this novel takes place in a world of flying cars and other futuristic stuff. More relevant to the plot is the fact that automation results in a majority of folks being unemployed, but enjoying a reasonably comfortable existence in an affluent welfare society.

The protagonist hosts a radio show dealing with flying saucers, reincarnation, and other weird stuff. He's dating the daughter of the tycoon who owns the station, mostly in an attempt to move up to a position in television. Dad, daughter, and the station manager all belong to a right-wing organization dedicated to ferreting out commies and pinkos. (To give you some idea of this group, they think of the John Birch Society as too liberal.)

The manager asks our hero to check out the revival meetings of a preacher whom they suspect of subversion. He's supposed to be on a date with his wealthy girlfriend, so she reluctantly tags along.

The preacher speaks in vaguely religious language of an eccentric sort, frequently making reference to something called the All-Mother. What he really talks about, however, is the world's economic system, condemning wasteful practices such as pointless changes in car design, fads and fashions that come and go, planned obsolescence, and conspicuous consumption.

This is too much for the rich woman, so she heckles him. The preacher loses his temper and rants against makeup, fancy clothing, and elaborate hairdos. The next thing you know, the woman changes her ways, dressing simply and avoiding cosmetics. Not that she agrees with the guy, you understand; it's just that those things make her itch unbearably. Pretty soon the same thing happens to women all over the world, ushering in an era of down home, farm girl fashions.


Crisis in the radio studio!

The preacher winds up on the protagonist's radio show. Things get out of control, so the fellow goes into another tirade, this time against radio and, by extension, television.

The reader is way ahead of the characters by this point, so it's not a big surprise when all broadcasting goes haywire, forcing people to abandon their favorite forms of entertainment. With all those unemployed folks desperate for something to fill their hours, there's a sudden shortage of comic books and magazines. Bars and movie theaters are packed to overflowing. Even the preacher's revival meetings attract huge crowds, just because they have nothing else to do.


Would you buy a used car from this man?

Although not comic in tone, the novel has a strong satiric edge to it. The setting may be some years from now, but the author is really talking about today. The targets of his barbed examination of modern society are overproduction and excess consumption, as well as the seductive power of the electronic media.

The style is very readable, carrying you along as you follow the misadventures of the hapless hero. The preacher's astonishing ability to transform the world may not be particularly plausible, but once you swallow the premise the way it plays out is enjoyable.

Reynolds likes to play games with politics, and perform thought experiments with different economic systems, so I predict the second half of the novel will portray a new society, possibly a utopian one. We'll see if I'm right a couple of months from now.

Four stars.

Coming Out Party, by Robert Lory


Illustration by Norman Nodel

This brief tale begins with a young woman getting ready for the event mentioned in the title. Our first hint that something strange is going on is the fact that she's stark naked in front of her parents. The ceremony is also full of nude women. (Sorry, ladies, all the erotic content of this issue is obviously aimed at a male audience.)

I dare not say anything else about what happens, except to mention that the shock ending is an effective one. This is one of those stories that depends entirely on the twist in its tail. It succeeds at the modest goal it sets for itself.

Three stars.

The Shape of Us to Come, by Michael Girsdansky

Let's take a break from controversial topics of discussion and learn something about the way people might alter their bodies in the future. The author considers the fact that viruses inject their genetic information into the cells of other organisms, using the biological machinery of their hosts to reproduce themselves. The article speculates about the possibility of harnessing this ability to alter the genetics of humans in desirable ways.

Using this technique to treat diseases such as cancer seems reasonably plausible. The suggestion that the body might be changed in radical ways, to ensure survival on alien worlds, is a little less so. In any case, it's an interesting subject, and I learned something about viruses.

Three stars.

World of the Spectrum, by Emil Petaja


Illustrations by John Giunta

Take a look at that picture. We've got a muscular hero with a bladed weapon and a big, ugly monster. Am I reading the wrong magazine? Is this a sword-and-sorcery yarn, rescued from the yellowing pages of Weird Tales?

That's what it seems like at first, but we soon find out that this world of mighty barbarians fighting bizarre creatures exists for the amusement of the upper class on Earth, who vicariously experience the thrill of battle through a kind of telepathic sensory television.

The hero is in mental communication with a woman he thinks of as a princess in a castle located at the top of a cliff that nobody can climb. Naturally, he overcomes impossible odds and reaches the place, only to discover that things are not what they seem.


Don't look down!

The woman is actually a member of the upper class, who secretly belongs to a group of folks working to overthrow their repressive society. She uses a teleportation device to bring the man to Earth, teaching him about the place and enlisting him in her struggle. After many adventures, she confronts the ruler of the world, who turns out to be truly grotesque.


The heroine is shocked by what she sees.

Despite the science fiction explanation for everything, the story feels more like a fantasy adventure. The ruler of Earth might as well be another hideous monster for the hero to destroy. At first, the woman seems to be nothing more than a sexually provocative nitwit, but this is only a role she plays in order to further her plans. The main flaw is the need for a lot of expository dialogue to explain the complex background, with people telling each other things they should already know.

Three stars.

Lunar Weapons Tomorrow, by Joseph Wesley

Before we move on to sex, let's talk about something much less shocking, like war. (There's something wrong with that sentence, but I'll think about it later.)

The author starts this piece about military use of the Moon by dismissing the idea that it could be used to launch missiles at an enemy on Earth. He points out that this method is more difficult, more expensive, less effective, and less defensible than other ways of destroying the planet. Somehow I'm not reassured.

He goes on to imagine lunar military installations, assuming that these will be common in about twenty years or so. His prediction is that these will engage in a kind of lukewarm war, neither one completely destroying the other lest it be wiped out as well. Instead, the opposing forces make relatively minor forays against each other, fighting for territory in a futuristic version of the trench warfare of World War One.

The dry and rather frightening subject of this article is made more readable through the use of a fictional soldier on the Moon. We follow him as he watches for an enemy advance, and even engages in hand-to-hand combat, of a sort, in a spacesuit.

Three stars.

A Glass of Mars, by Robert F. Young


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

The version of the Red Planet depicted in this story is closer to the imaginings of Ray Bradbury than what most scientists believe. Maybe the Mariner 4 spacecraft, now on its way to Mars, will tell us who's right. Anyway, the plot takes place at least a full generation after people colonized the planet, building on the ancient ruins of the long-vanished Martians.

The main character is a new arrival, with romantic ideas about the distant past. In sharp contrast, his secretary, born on Mars, is all about the present. Like other women native to the planet, she is sexually assertive, openly boasting about her measurements, calling herself a sex machine, and offering to sleep with her boss (with the assumption that they will be married soon after.)

While commuting across the surface of Mars, the fellow is miraculously transported to the past. He meets a Martian woman, as delicately beautiful and demure as he imagined.

(In just about all ways except language, the Martian is completely human. We're told, more than once, that she has hyacinth hair. This rather obscure metaphor is taken from Edgar Allan Poe's ode To Helen, and it's not much clearer in the original. The allusion seems designed to suggest the man's dreamy vision of the ancient Martian woman, as romantic as Poe's poem.)


The ancient Martian and the modern human. Gentlemen, which one would you pick?

Without giving too much away, let's just say that the man's assumptions aren't completely accurate. I expected this to be a simple fable about the superiority of the past over the vulgarity of the present, but it's a little more complex than that. The author, no stranger to sentimental love stories and idealization of women, almost seems to be chiding himself for his romantic tendencies. The plot is pure fantasy, of course, but if you can get past that, it's worth a look.

Three stars.

Shall We Talk About It?

Overall, this was a pretty decent issue. Nothing was less than average, and the serialized novel was a high point. Maybe I'm just in a good mood. In any case, I would caution you to make sure that you discuss the themes raised in the magazine only under the right circumstances. Remember what Mom told you!


She didn't mention money or sex. Two out of four ain't bad.





https://event.webinarjam.com/register/34/3q3prsl6

3 Comments Leave A Comment

55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction