Tag Archives: 1960

Magazine

[May 13, 1960] Second Lightning Strike (Out Like a Light)

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by Freas

I poke a lot of fun at John Campbell's magazine, Astounding for its overfeaturing of psionics and Randall Garrett, two things of which I've gotten very tired–so imagine my surprise when I found myself enjoying a serial that intimately involves both!

For the last three months, Astounding's serial has been Out Like a Light, the sequel to the actually-not-bad That Sweet Little Old Lady.  Both stories were co-written by the team of Randall Garrett (who seems to be getting better these days, at least prose-wise) and Laurence Janifer (who may be the real talent behind the operation).  Together, they go by the monicker of "Mark Phillips." 

Lady introduced two investigating agents of the FBI in the nearish future, Malone and Boyd, who are stand-ins for the authors.  I think.  Boyd certainly shares Garrett's physical similarity to Henry VIII as well as his penchant for girl-chasing.  And Janifer, if he cut his hair into a Mohican, would look a bit like Malone.  Their first misadventure involves tracking down a gaggle of psychics and enlisting their aid to fix a security leak in the government.  The sanest of the bunch or telepaths, despite believing herself to be the not-so-late ex-Monarch, Elizabeth I, ends up being the lynchpin to the agents' success.  As the title suggests, she really is a sweet little old lady.  Who can read minds.

Out Like a Light is essentially a solo adventure, with Malone sleuthing around after a spate of carjackings.  All of the cars are red Cadillacs, and the investigating officers tend to get nasty bumps on the side of the head.  Yet, no trace of the perpetrators is ever seen.  Of course, psionics are involved, and Her Majesty serves an important supporting role in solving the mystery. 

It's about 10% too long in the droll recounting of things, but it moves swiftly and entertainingly, features a couple of strong female characters (shock!) and is a reasonably executed "how-dunnit."  I say "how" since the "who" is determined fairly early on. 


by Freas

I found myself actively looking forward, each month, to reading more of the story.  It's not literature for the ages, but it is genuinely amusing.  If my meter allowed for half increments for individual stories, I would give it three and a half stars.  Since it doesn't, I suppose I'll be generous and give it four. 

Astounding can use the charity, especially after the non-fiction "article" featured in this month's issue… but more on that later.

Pick up a copy, and enjoy!

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Movies

[May 11, 1960] Spelunkers Unite! (Journey to the Center of the Earth)

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With so much schlock crowding out the marquees at our local cinemas, it's nice to get a chance to see a quality production for a change.

Last weekend, my daughter and I managed to finally catch the Cinemascope epic, Journey to the Center of the Earth, loosely based upon (read: with the same title as) the Jules Verne classic.  Thankfully, mine eyes are virginal—I have never read the Verne novel.  Rather, I was always partial to Burroughs' Pellucidar series (about which a movie is coming out this Summer!), so while I am sure there are egregious departures from the original story, they did not and could not offend me.

There is much to like about this charming movie about a priggish Scotsman geologist (who sounds a lot like James Mason), a fresh-faced geology student (who sings a lot like Pat Boone), a strong-willed and competent widow, a strapping Icelandic farmer, and (the true hero of the story), a duck named Gertrude.  This team forms the Lindenbrook Expedition, which aims to penetrate the depths of the Earth.  The access point is an Icelandic volcano, this entry having been pioneered by Arnie Saknussemm decades before.


Four of the five intrepid explorers


Did you know Pat Boone could sing?  Who'da thought?

The science is silly, of course, but that's acceptable since this is based on a novel of Victorian (3rd Republican?) vintage.  Beneath the Earth, there are giant mushrooms (all edible, of course), ubiquitous phosphorescent algae, intelligent cannibal Dimetrodons, and a giant subterranean ocean.  And, of course, none of our heroes need shave or brush their hair.  Apparently, in the deep vaults of the Earth, little invisible gnomes keep chests, underarms, and coiffures in perfect order.

Less palatable is the rather artificial conflict between the Mason party and his rival, an Icelandic self-styled "Count," the descendant of Saknussemm, who attempts to derail and vanquish the expedition.  I would have been just fine with a Human vs. Nature spectacle rather than an obligatory Man vs. Man piece.



A most charming aspect, however, is the movie's streak of feminism.  The Widow Goteborg, who came to Iceland at her husband's request (Professor Goteborg having attempted to get the jump on Lindenbrook) convincingly argues herself onto the Lindenbrook expedition.  Lindenbrook sputters on about the uselessness of a female explorer, and is then shown up at every turn by the cleverer, more capable Goteborg.  The cleverest member of all, however, is the duck, Gertrude; she unerringly guides the team to safety and profit, and she was my daughter's favorite character. 

At one point, I noted, "The message of this film is that women are always right."  My daughter replied, "I'm fine with that message."


Gertrude leads the crew across the Nonestic Ocean

In sum, it is an absolutely stunning film, in gorgeous color and with fantastic visuals.  I was engaged throughout, even on the several occasions when the movie nearly careened into the musical theater genre.  Immediately upon finishing the movie, I wanted to find my own mustard-coloured traveling outfit.  Sadly, they are in short supply these days.

Coming up, more science, more television, more books, and more magazines.  May is proving to be a month of embarrassing riches.  Stay tuned!

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Science / Space Race

[May 9, 1960] Long distance call (Pioneer 5 update)

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Photo found here
Hold onto your ears, folks, because the Pioneer 5 interplanetary satellite just turned on the big transmitter.

Well, it's actually only 150 Watts—only a little more powerful than your average light bulb.  But it's like shouting compared to the 5 Watt radio it was using until now.

Pioneer is now more than 8 million miles away—32 times as far away as the Moon.  It is slowly drifting in toward the Sun on a course that almost parallels that of the Earth.  The plan had been for the spacecraft to intercept the orbit of Venus, but it looks like its initial velocity wasn't high enough. 

This is not so big a deal, since Venus wasn't going to be anywhere near the probe at any point, anyway.  What is a big deal are the reams of useful data still streaming in loud and clear from the nearly two-month old spaceship.

When all is said and done, Pioneer 5 is going to revolutionize our understanding of the solar system.  We are taught that space is a vacuum, and that a vacuum has nothing in it.  In fact, there are all kinds of particles and magnetic fields, all of them interacting in exciting and interesting ways.  And we had no way of understanding how these phenomena worked until we sent a probe out into interplanetary space, beyond the influence of the Earth.

For instance, Pioneer acts as a sort of picket, letting us know just how much of the flux of energetic particles on Earth comes from the Sun .  Working together with Explorer VII, which is in Earth orbit, and balloons, which float high in the lower atmosphere, we can get an excellent view of radiation all the way from space to the ground.  It turns out that the sun is constantly bathing the Earth in high energy electrons—not just during solar flares, as had been hypothesized.  It also appears that the level of cosmic radiation from the sun often reaches levels which are hazardous to life forms.

One experiment that never seems to work out is the micrometeoroid detector.  You'd think something so simple, really just a big microphone attached to an electric circuit, would be hard to mess up.  Yet I can't recall a single STL-built detector that has performed adequately.  Pioneer's has given squirrelly numbers that clearly indicate a sick experiment. 

On the other hand, the probe is still working, so whatever dust bullets are out there can't be too dangerous.

Meanwhile, Pioneer's magnetometer, the most sensitive yet launched, has confirmed the wobbly interface between the Earth and the Sun's magnetic fields is a good 55,000 or so miles out—twice as far as originally expected.  The turbulence in the region also doesn't match theory. 

This is why empiricism beats philosophy: you can come up with all the pretty models you like, but you have to test things to find out how the universe actually works!

#

In other news, it looks like that story about the NASA "weather study" U2 was a pack of lies.  It was, as Khruschev exclaimed with a shark-toothed grin, actually a spy plane caught in the act of spying.  And he has the pilot in custody.

I understand why we have spy planes.  I understand why we had to lie about the spy plane.  I know that the upcoming summit probably wasn't going to bear much fruit anyway.  It's still frustrating.

#

On a pleasanter note, a very happy 40th birthday to William Tenn, the quite excellent British import. 

See you soon with more print and film updates!  I've got a lot of material to cover…

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Fashion, music, politics, sports, Science / Space Race, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 7, 1960] Grab Bag

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Here's a bit of a hodgepodge article for the column as I plow through reading material and await the next Space Spectacular:


RCA's Mrs Helen Mann, holder of two degrees in physics, issues instructions to FLAC (Florida Automatic Computer) at Patrick Air Force Base, from where military and civilian (Air Force) space launches originate. From here

Being a statistics nut, I like to track the (completely subjective) quality of my science fiction digests.  For those just joining us, I use the Galactic Star scale, as follows:

5: Phenomenal; I would read again.
4: Good; I would recommend it to others.
3: Fair; I was entertained from beginning to end, but I would not read again or strongly recommend.
2: Poor; I wasted my time but was not actively offended.
1: Abysmal; I want my money back!

For those who like summaries, here is how the Big Three digests did last month (May 1960):

IF: 2 stars; best story: Matchmaker by Charles Fontenay, 3 stars

Astounding: 2.5 stars; best story: Wizard by Laurence Janifer, 3 stars

Fantasy and Science Fiction: 3 stars; best story: The Oldest Soldier, by Fritz Leiber, 4 stars

That's a comparatively bad crop!  On the other hand, I've seen enough slumps to expect that this one won't last.  After all, people have been predicting the death of science fiction for 6 years now…

—

In other news, something of an ominous development.  Apparently, a U2 high-altitude "spy plane" was shot down over the Soviet Union on May 1.  Premier Khruschev is making a lot of hay about it, but the White House says it was a civilian "weather study" mission under the auspices of NASA.

There's even a picture to go with it:

I hope this doesn't jeopardize the upcoming peace summit.

—

Happy birthday to Jack Sharkey, who turned 29 yesterday.  Galactic Journey has covered two of his tales to date.

—

Finally, I am excited to say that this column garnered an honorable mention in no less esteemed a venue than Astounding/Analog!  Rest assured, however, that the accolade will not prevent me from skewering Campbell's magazine when skewering is due.

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Magazine

[May 5, 1960] The Next Step (Rosel George Brown in Amazing)

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Has Rosel George Brown finally broken through?

For several years, I've kept an eye on this promising New Orleans native.  Apart from being a woman writer in a predominately male field, she has brought a refreshingly feminine viewpoint to her stories.  But they've never quite rung all of my bells.  Some, like Virgin Ground have a real bitter tone to them.  Others, like Car Pool and Flower Arrangement are overly domestic in feel.  I want my heroines to be lantern-jawed and stalwart! 

In any event, I've always felt that Ms. Brown was an extraordinary talent waiting to break free.  Leafing through a friend's latest issue of Amazing (generally trailing the Big Three/Four in terms of quality), I saw that she had a story within, Step IV and I quickly devoured it.

It definitely falls in the "bitter" category, but it has a new depth I have not yet seen from Brown.  Moreover, it has that quality that marks the truly good (and, occasionally, the truly bad): it is memorable.

I welcome your thoughts.

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Book

[May 3, 1960] Sharpening Up (Poul Anderson's Brain Wave)

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It's tough to be a smart person in a dumb world. 

When I was in 4th grade, I had a miserable, mean teacher named Mrs. Middleton.  She was the sort of lady who wore a smile on her face that had a depth of about a micron—she certainly didn't have a pleasant soul.  I remember many incidents that caused her to rank in the lower tiers of my instructors, but the one that sticks out the most went as follows:

I had done or said something that displayed my somewhat above-average intelligence, and Mrs. Middleton took umbrage.  She sneeringly asked me, "You think you're so smart!  How would you like it if everyone was as smart as you?"

I answered, quite innocently, "I would love it.  Then I'd have people to talk to."

Perhaps this is why Poul Anderson's 1954 novel, Brain Wave, which explores the aftermath of an event that causes every living thing with a brain to become about four times smarter, resonates so strongly with me. 

I recently saw a reprint of this masterpiece at the local bookseller, so now is a good time to take a second look.

Brain Wave opens with the change already in progress.  It occurs quickly and universally.  Within a week, normal folks have IQs in the 300s, and the world begins to fall apart.  After all, who wants to do the menial jobs that society requires to keep functioning?  In the meantime, every animal with an intelligence above that possessed by, say, a goat, develops full sapience.  Many remain docile creatures; others become a menace.

There are really two parallel stories.  One involves a physicist who is captivated by his new talents and applies them to building an interstellar spacecraft (once automation allows humanity to apply itself solely to intellectual pursuits).  His is not an entirely happy story; his wife finds her new brilliance difficult to handle, and their marriage suffers for it.

The other thread, and perhaps the better one, involves a mentally handicapped man who develops a (by pre-change standards) a supergenius IQ.  He forms a sort of commune with a pair of chimpanzees, an elephant, and a dog.  Perhaps the most affecting scene in the book comes when the man must slaughter a sheep, now nearly human in intelligence, to survive the winter. 

The latter plot is more approachable as it features characters whose thought processes are not too unlike our own.  On the other hand, Anderson manages to portray super-intelligence in a plausible and engaging manner.  The newly brilliant communicate in an almost telepathic shorthand.  After the initial anarchy, world peace is achieved since humans are now better able to understand each other.  Wishful thinking?  Maybe, but I happen to like my stories upbeat, and I can certainly subscribe to the idea that the world could do with a bit more smarts to go around.

I understand that the book started out as a magazine serial.  This makese sense–there is a change in tone about halfway through, right around the time a team of astronauts head into space.  The highlight of this section is their first starship voyage, wherein the cause and galactic ramifications of the change are discovered. 

I shan't spoil the rest.  Go ye and purchase a copy.  After reading it, you will understand why I stuck with Anderson for so long even though most of what he wrote in the mid-'50s was comparatively lousy.

And then send me a letter or two–so I have people to talk to!

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Uncategorized

[April 30, 1960] Interlude, with Ocean (A Trip to Carlsbad)

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Greetings from sunny springtime California!

Yesterday was a vacation of sorts.  Having dashed off (I mean to say "meticulously crafted") my review of the June 1960 Galaxy, I thought it high time to hit the beach with some nice non-fiction.  My favorite shoreline happens to be in Carlsbad, a sleepy community in northern San Diego County.  For the fans who enjoy phototourism, take a gander at these newly developed pics (in color, no less!)

—

I parked near the commercial and scenic center of Carlsbad is the intersection of Highway 101 and Elm Street.  Dominating the northeast corner is the Twin Inns, a 75-year old house converted into a restaurant.  It's a lovely, rambling sort of affair, with a dance hall in the back.

Just next door is the Hanse House, of the same vintange and owned by the Christiansen family.  There used to be a mineral water well here, but it's been closed since the Depression.

Then I was off to my favorite local coffee shop, Cafe Elysa. 

The beach was lovely, though a bit bright for reading.  It was surprisingly uncrowded.  I caught no sight of Gidget…

On the other hand, I did see this friendly little fellow:

To round things off, I leave you with this sage advice, inscribed outside another coffee house:

See you soon!

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Magazine

[Apr. 29, 1960] A Banks Shot (June 1960 Galaxy, Part 2)

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Without preamble, let's get to the second half of this month's Galaxy, the June 1960 issue.  I hope you've all been reading along with me because there will be a quiz next period.


by Wood

Jack Sharkey is a prolific newcomer who started out in the lesser mags.  His The Dope on Mars, the first-hand account of a journalist sent to the Red Planet, is fair.  The title actually is a clever (if intentional) pun, as it suggests both the true story about Mars and the moron sent to cover it.  And that's ultimately what I found frustrating—the reporter really comes off as a putz.  On the other hand, recalling my competition back in my reporting days, perhaps the depiction isn't that far off the mark.

Transstar is a dense novelette, and is the first thing by Raymond Banks that I've really enjoyed.  In fact, were it not for the slightly disappointing ending, it would have earned the coveted 5-star award.  In the far future, humanity has spread across a thousand star systems.  Protecting it is the extra-governmental agency, Transstar, with millions of ships at its disposal.  This overwhelming force comes with a hefty price tag, however, and partial mobilization does not appear to be an option.  This sounds implausible on its face, but recall that the French mobilization of the last war had similar problems, which was one of the reasons there was no armed resistance to the German taking of the Rhineland in '36. 

Despite the massive scope of the backdrop, Transstar is a very personal story, that of one agent stationed at a small colony that happens to be next in line for conquest by the sadistic Eaber, who also have a thousand systems under their control.  The story is by turns poignant and horrifying, written in an excellent, understated fashion.  My only issues are with the ending, which was both too glib and somewhat inconsistent.  But I'll save the rest of my commentary for the letter column.


by Dillon

I remember Charles de Vet largely from his propping up the rather dismal January 1959 Astounding.  Monkey on his Back, de Vet's contribution to this month's Galaxy is an interesting adventure story.  Imagine if Harrison's Slippery Jim diGriz suddenly got amnesia and went to a shrink for help. 

Fredric Brown's Beware Earthmen Bearing Gifts is over almost before it starts.  Taken at face value, it's a silly premise, but there are two valid themes conveyed: the principle that nothing can be observed without affecting it, and, our methods of exploration may be more destructive than necessary. 


by Dillon

Idea Man, by British neophyte John Rackham (who wrote the lead story for the November 1959 issue of IF) has a fun piece on what it's like to have a great concept but limited vision for its application. 


by Dillon

Finally, we have Inside John Barth, by the brand new William W. Stuart (I'm seeing a trend; ever since lowering his rates, editor Gold is having trouble getting old pros to work for him).  It's a rather fascinating tale about a fellow who becomes a colony (in the 17th century sense of the word) for a clan of aliens.  Their relation is symbiotic, for the most part, though the "host" increasingly resents the salutary restrictions placed on his activities to ensure the benevolence of his internal environment.  A good first effort, for sure.

So there you have it: a solid 3-star issue (sadly, with nary a female writer nor much of a female character presence).  Let me know what you think, and I'll see y'all in a few days!

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Magazine

[April 27, 1960] Galactic on Galaxy (June 1960 Galaxy)

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It's that happy time of year when the sun is up late and the weather is perfect.  Of course, the weather is usually perfect here in the nicest unincorporated part of northern San Diego County (though there are rumors that our little farming community is going to vote on incorporation soon).

One of my favorite Spring-time activities is to lounge on the veranda (well, my daughter's tree house) with a portable radio, a cup of coffee, and good book.  Today's entree is the newest issue of Galaxy.  It's a double-sized issue, so I'll be breaking it out over two articles.  A body needs time to digest, after all. 

Fred Pohl has written a new serial evocatively titled Drunkard's Walk I won't go into too much detail as it's only half published, but thus far, I'm enjoying it.  In an overpopulated Earth (12 billions, 6 of them in "The Chinas"), university education is the province of the elite.  One young mathematics professor appears to be the target for assassination.  He's attempted to kill himself numerous times, always in that twilight between sleep and waking, as if in a trance. 

There are some neat technologies featured.  In particular, I liked Pohl's depiction of education by television, broadcast via satellite and graded by computer.  As someone who has generally found the classroom stifling, I marvel at how nice it would be to get a college degree in the comfort of my own home.

Next on tap is L.J. Stecher's Upstarts.  How can Earthers hope to parlay on a level playing field with a race that dominates the entire Galaxy?  By developing its own secret, starhopping technologies, of course.  The fascinating idea here is that though there are some 17 starfaring alien species, only two of them (one being humanity) clawed their way to sentience by natural evolutionary processes.  All of the rest were raised to sapience ("Uplifted," to coin a phrase) by the slavering Vegans, who now find themselves a minority group in the new galactic order and want to enlist the assistance of the Terrans to get back on top.


by Dillon

Good stuff, and with a haunting ending.

The Good Neighbors is a fun, short Edgar Pangborn piece about the sudden appearance of an enormous winged beast that terrorizes the American skies for many days before the pitiful creature is harangued to death by a swarm of jet fighters.  Pangborn writes with a pleasant sense of whimsy that I appreciate.


by Wallace Wood

Rounding out the first half, Willy Ley has an interesting piece on rocket fuels and the comparative advantages of liquid vs. solid propellants.  He also answers some of his readers' questions.  They must have been a better crop than usual as VeeLee seems pleasantly less peeved than he has been of late.

See you in two days with the other half.  Get yourself a copy and send me your thoughts!

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Science / Space Race

[April 25, 1960] Long distance fix (The Repair of Pioneer 5)

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Imagine doing brain surgery by remote control.

That's just what STL engineer, Robert E. Gottfried, did over the weekend, on an ailing deep space probe.

Pioneer 5 blasted off on March 11, and it recently passed the 5 million mile distance mark on its way to the orbit of Venus.  For more than a month, the doughty probe returned an excellent stream of data thanks to its digital brain, Telebit.  This little computer allows the spacecraft to store experimental results and beam them back to Earth at regular intervals.  Thus, observers on the ground get continuous readings of the magnetic, radioactive, and micrometeoroid properties of interplanetary space.

But then some of the data Pioneer was sending back became… strange.  For instance, the spacecraft reported that its battery voltage was too low to send signals—as it was sending signals! 

How do you fix something that's twenty times as far away as the Moon?  First, you figure out what the problem is.  Luckily, Pioneer's builders (Space Technology Laboratories in Los Angeles) had the foresight to make a back-up copy of the Telebit hardware.  Gottfried poked and prodded the thing until it started giving him results that matched the ones received from Pioneer's system.  Through painstaking tracing, the culprit was found—a single faulty or damaged diode, a pinhead-sized component, one of 1500. 

The result was that there was a consistency to the flawed data that could be compensated for.  Once Gottfried knew what the problem was, he could create a program that would take data from the bad Telebit and translate it into good data.  The digital patch worked.  While we can't fix Pioneer 5, we can now translate its gibberish into useful science.  For his efforts, NASA's chief administrator, Keith Glennan, dubbed Gottfried "The Long-Armed Repairman" in a congratulatory telegram.

For the curious, Pioneer 5's cooling systems maintain its internal temperature at a balmy 50 degrees.  Not bad for being in the vastness space!  The probe is still using its lower power 5-watt transmitter, and is still being received clearly at the giant Jodrell Bank radio telescope in England.  However, the smaller "dish" in Hawaii is already having difficulty picking up the spacecraft, so it is likely that Pioneer will start using its bigger 150-watt transmitter next week.  NASA believes we will be able to communicate with the probe as far out as 50 million miles!

To give you an idea of how amazing this is, think about the stations you pick up on your AM radio.  They broadcast at around 50 thousand watts, and you can only hear them if they are relatively close (one can pick up some fairly distant stations at night, but none are more than a thousand miles or so away.)

Of course, your antenna is probably a telescoping rod or a long wire.  The dish at Jodrell Bank is 250 feet across!  Nevertheless, that it can pick up such an unprecedentedly distant and weak signal is almost miraculous.  I say "almost" because it was not luck that made it happen but good engineering and pioneering digital technology.

Quite a remarkable feat, and worthy, I think, of an article. 

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