Tag Archives: book

Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 14, 1967] Threat level: High (October Galactoscope)

Leave a comment


by Gideon Marcus

We've got a triple (maybe quadruple) play for you this morning.  Dig in and enjoy the bounty!

Fail-Safe, by Eugene Burdick and Arthur Wheeler

With so many new books coming out, it's not often that we at the Journey can devote inches to older titles.  However, the original Fail-Safe has been staring me in the face for the past four years, and when I finally picked it up, I found I couldn't put it down.  Morever, the events depicted in the book are supposed to take place in 1967, so what better year to review it?

If you've seen the movie, then you know the plot of the book: mechanical malfunction causes a flight of bombers, responding to a false threat, to head irretrievably on an atomic raid of Moscow.  Indeed, the movie is in many ways a shot-for-shot rendition of the print version.  The differences pertain to the medium: we get several mini-biographies of the main characters, including the translator, the war-monger, the self-loathing SAC General, the commander of the Omaha base.  There are also occasional, Marooned-style depictions of the technology involved, in lurid detail.

But the events are the same, the dialogue is largely the same, the agony is the same.  Fail-Safe is the story of breakdown–of huge computerized networks failing for the disruption of tiny components, of people failing when confronted with clashing instructions.  Despite the fundamental tragedy of the story, it is ultimately a hopeful book.  It says that people made this death trap we live in, and only people can get us out of it.  And thankfully, there are still good people left in the positions that matter.

Indeed, the main divergence between the book and movie is that the two national leaders involved are not generic statesmen but real people: Kennedy and Khruschev.  This is a little jarring given that neither outlasted the book's publication by very long.  However, it's also fundamental to the plot.  Burdick and Wheeler ascribe a basic competence and goodness to these particular national leaders, qualities that keep the world from exploding when all factors say it should.

Were the two "K"s given too much credit?  Are LBJ and Kosygin men we can trust to steer us clear from the edge of disaster?  Those are questions that can only be answered by biographers in the first instance, and in the moment for the second.  May summits like the recent one in Glassboro ensure the latter never needs answering.

Four stars.

The Invaders, by Keith Laumer

Have you seen The Invaders?  It's a dopey riff on The Fugitive, instead of Richard Kimball running from the law for a murder he didn't commit, at the same time tracking down the real killer, it's about an architect running from alien invaders, while he also plans a counterattack.

The Fugitive was, itself, a riff on Route 66, about two hunks Kerouac-ing across the country doing odd jobs trying to find themselves.  The Fugitive works because Kimball has a reason to keep moving, but, as a doctor, a moral obligation to help people wherever he goes.  There's a reason the show lasted four years.

The Invaders doesn't work for lots of reasons — being an architect doesn't fundamendally involve protagonist David Vincent in anything.  The aliens are laughably inept, betraying themselves with crooked pinky fingers, and yet Vincent can never really get anyone to believe him.

It's a dumb show.

So, of course it has a tie-in novel.  Keith Laumer probably wrote this one in his sleep and happily pocketed the $2000 royalty to pay for his next trip to London.  It is cliché-ridden and tired, a typical potboiler with a B-movie plot and science decades out of date.

It's still better than the show.

It's better because Laumer's Vincent discovers the aliens through canny investigation rather than stumbling on them at an old diner (tracking several seemingly unrelated factory production orders; once the widgets are assembled, they make a ray gun).  It's better because Laumer is a competent action writer.  It's better because the book is highly divergent from the show, only retaining the name of the hero, the plot of invasion (even the aliens are quite different — their high temperature gives them away), and the William Conrad-esque narration that precedes and succeeds the three vignettes included in this first volume.

Three stars.  Why not?

Belmont Double B50-779

The second Belmont Double, poor imitation of the Ace Double follows a similar format to the first: one old novella combined with a newly commissioned one.

Doomsman, by Harlan Ellison

These days, Harlan's name is associated with avante garde stuff, the cutting edge of the New Wave laden with emotion and impact.

Back in the late '50s, when he was cranking out material for the profusion of SF digests, Harlan's work was of more variable quality.  Doomsman originally came out in the last issue (October 1958) of Imagination as The Assassin, and it is lesser Ellison.

A hundred years from now, the Western Hemisphere is dominated by the AmeriState, a totalitarian regime that ascended in the ashes of an atomic war.  Power is maintained by an assassin's corps, of which one Juanito Montoya, abducted from the Pampas of Argentine in his early manhood, is a typical example.  He can kill in a thousand different ways, endure most any climate, and he lacks even the rudiments of empathy or civilization.

But in one way, he is different from his peers, for he comes to learn that he is the son of Don Eskalyo, a princeling who would topple the AmeriState.  Once in possession of this knowledge, he resolves to stop at nothing to meet Eskalyo and join his forces.  Except, of course, that's just what the AmeriState wants him to do…

Doomsman is a brutal, unpleasant story, rife with torture and grossness.  In particular, I could have done without the introduction of the lone female character, the nude and violated (but still desirable, of course!) imprisoned young woman who proves the linchpin to finding Eskalyo.  Not only did I find her character a sop to the more lewd readers, but though Ellison makes it clear that she endured three months of the worst tortures without cracking, she succumbs to Montoya's techniques immediately.  And we never learn what these techniques are.  Obviously, it's an author's trick to imply how effective and monstrous these methods are, but it just comes off as implausible and a cheat.

The one thing Doomsman's favor is it is never dull.  That's not enough.  2.5 stars.

Telepower, by Lee Hoffman

Lee Hoffman is a name I've heard a lot in the fanzines, but I've never met her because she lives in Chicago.  It's always a delight to see a fan turn into a (filthy) pro, and the main reason I picked up this Double is because of her byline.

Her book takes place in and around the post-atomic ruins of Cleveland, which have settled into a sort of medieval complacency, its inhabitants placid and staid.  The defense of the city is left to the soldiers, an almost robotic breed of human, who live outside the city walls.  The main threat to Cleveland isn't other men–it's waves upon waves of rats.  The story opens up with such an attack, and we are introduced to Beldone, one of the many anonymous drones in the ranks.

Beldone, unlike his companions, develops a spark of curiosity, of individuality.  This terrifies him since such is a sign of illness, and the remedy for illness is execution.  We quickly learn that this spark is externally created: inside the city dwells the beautiful, and bored, Illyna.  In a fit of ennui, she developed the embers of a psychic power, initially telepathic in nature but ultimately controlling.  Beldone was her first contact, and through him, she seeks to learn more about the world she inhabits–and to find a way to control it.

There's a lot of disturbing stuff in this novel.  Folks who are turned off by depictions of violence, depictions of rats, and/or depictions of telepathic mind control may wish to give this piece a miss.  It's also not a happy story, even when it is triumphant.  But it is an interesting, well-written one, and I look forward to more of Hoffman's work.

3.5 stars.



No comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 10, 1967] Jack the Ripper and Company (Dangerous Visions,Part One)

5 Comments


by Victoria Silverwolf

There's a new anthology of original science fiction and fantasy stories in bookstores this month. It's certain to be the topic of a lot of discussion among SF buffs, and maybe even some arguments.

It's also big; more than five hundred pages, and it'll set you back a whopping seven bucks. It's so big, in fact, that Galactic Journey is going to slice it into three pieces and discuss it in a trio of articles. (Why three? Because it's got thirty-three stories in it, and eleven articles would be silly.)

Let's dig into the first part of this mammoth collection and see if it's destined to be the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band of speculative fiction, or just another dud.

Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison


Wraparound cover art by the husband-and-wife team of Leo and Diane Dillon, who also provide an interior illustration for each story.

Before we get to the nitty-gritty of fiction, we've got no less than two forewords by Isaac Asimov and a lengthy introduction by the editor.

In The Second Revolution, the Good Doctor outlines the history of modern science fiction from Gernsback through Campbell, and into the New Wave. Astounding was the first revolution, you see, and now we're in the second one. That may be a little simplistic, but it gets the point across.

Harlan and I, on the other hand, is a personal essay about Asimov's relationship with the editor, ending with a teasing anecdote. Ellison adds a long footnote offering a different version of their first encounter.

More substantial is Thirty-Two Soothsayers, the editor's longwinded but endlessly entertaining and informative account of what this book is supposed to accomplish, and how it came to be. Ellison wanders all over the place in this piece, and it's a fun ride. In brief, the stories he chose are supposed to be both enjoyable and provocative, with new ideas that might not appear in the usual SF markets. We'll see.

(If you're wondering why thirty-two and not thirty-three, it's because one writer supplies two stories; but that's for another time.)

I should mention that each story comes with an introduction by the editor and an afterword by the author, except for the one case when those roles are reversed. You'll see what I mean in a while.

I'm going to do something a little different here. I'll rate the quality of each story with the usual one to five stars, but I'll also add an indication for how dangerous each one is. This will be determined by sexual content, violence, profanity, experimental narrative style, taboo subject matter, etc. GREEN = safe to proceed, YELLOW = caution indicated, RED = hazardous conditions.

Let's begin.

Evensong, by Lester del Rey

An unnamed character flees through the universe in an attempt to escape those who have overthrown his reign. To say anything else would give away the point of the story, which is an allegory.

Three stars. YELLOW for questioning the deeply held beliefs of some readers.

Flies, by Robert Silverberg

In a premise similar to his excellent novel Thorns, the author presents a severely injured astronaut who has been put back together by aliens. In this case, however, his body has been restored to normal, but his mind has been made more sensitive to the emotions of others. That doesn't work out well.

Silverberg has become a fine writer, one of the best now working. Like Thorns, this is an uncompromising look at human suffering.

Five stars. YELLOW for scenes of extreme cruelty.

The Day After the Day the Martians Came, by Frederik Pohl

Set in the very near future, this tale deals with humanity's reaction to the discovery of ugly, semi-intelligent lifeforms on the red planet. Mostly, people make nasty jokes about them. The intent of the story is to expose human prejudices, in a way that's about as subtle as a brick thrown through a window.

Three stars. YELLOW for dealing with a major social problem in the USA today.

Riders of the Purple Wage, by Philip Jose Farmer

This is, by far, the longest story in the book. It is also incredibly dense and fast-paced, so any attempt to describe the plot would be a miserable failure. That said, I'll just mention that it takes place in a very strange future, involves an artist and his tax-dodging ancestor, and contains a ton of wordplay. There are scenes of slapstick violence that are simultaneously hilarious and offensive. It's a wild rollercoaster ride, so keep your seatbelt tightly secured.

Five stars. RED for a Joycean narrative style and Rabelaisian humor.

The Malley System, by Miriam Allen deFord

In the future, the worst criminals receive a very unusual punishment. This is a grim story, that doesn't shy away from the horrors perpetuated by human monsters.

Three stars. YELLOW for violence.

A Toy for Juliette, by Robert Bloch

In a decadent future, a man uses the only time machine in existence to kidnap people from the past, in order to satisfy the whims of his sadistic granddaughter. He picks the wrong potential victim. This is a spine-chilling little science fiction horror story with a twist in its tail.

Three stars. YELLOW for sex, torture, and murder.

The Prowler in the City at the Edge of the World, by Harlan Ellison

This is a direct sequel to the previous story, with an introduction by Bloch and an afterword by Ellison. An infamous murderer finds himself in the far future, where the inhabitants enter his mind in order to enjoy his sensations as he kills.

Written in an experimental, almost cinematic style, this is an unrelenting look at the evil that lurks inside all of us. Not for weak stomachs.

Four stars. RED for explicit violence.

The Night That All Time Broke Out, by Brian W. Aldiss

People get so-called time gas supplied to their homes through pipes. It allows them to enjoy better times in the past. As with any form of technology, things can go wrong. This is a light comedy with a unique premise.

Three stars. GREEN for whimsy.

The Man Who Went to the Moon – Twice, by Howard Rodman

A young boy takes a trip to the Moon by holding on to a balloon, becoming a local celebrity. Many years later, as a very old man, his only claim to fame is not as valued as it once was. Reminiscent of Ray Bradbury, this is a gentle, quietly melancholy tale.

Three stars. GREEN for wistful nostalgia.

Faith of Our Fathers, by Philip K. Dick

The Communist East has won a hot war with the Capitalist West. The protagonist is a bureaucrat given the task to determine which of two term papers truly represents the Party line. Meanwhile, a seemingly harmless substance allows him to perceive what appear to be multiple and contradictory truths about the Mao-like Party leader.

That's a vague synopsis, because this is one of the author's stories in which you've never quite sure what is real and what is illusory. Ellison strongly hints that it was written under the influence of hallucinatory drugs. Be that as it may, it's a provocative and disturbing look at the possible nature of reality.

Four stars. YELLOW for politics, drug use, and existential terror.

The Jigsaw Man, by Larry Niven

A man is sentenced to death for his crime. His organs will be harvested for transplant. Through a series of unusual circumstances, he manages to escape from prison, but his troubles aren't over yet.

The full impact of this story doesn't hit the reader until the very end, when we find out the nature of the man's offense.  Other than that, it's an ordinary enough science fiction action/suspense story.

Three stars.  GREEN for futuristic adventure.

One Down, Two To Go

So far, this is a fine collection of stories, without a bad one in the bunch.  Sensitive readers might want to stay away from the more dangerous ones, but most mature SF fans will enjoy it.




</small

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

[September 26, 1967] Anniversary? Really? New Worlds, October 1967

4 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

The changes with New Worlds in the last few months have been so much that they’ve rather left me guessing what the next issue will be like. Will it be sexually adult, like last month’s issue? Will it introduce me to art and artists I’ve never heard of before? Or will it try to flummox me with philosophy, religion and science?

Who knows? Each issue has been one of surprise and bewilderment, with, as I suggested last month, less emphasis on the science fiction and more on those other elements. It certainly keeps me guessing!

And it is an anniversary issue, too! If you’ve been following what’s been going on here in the last year or so, many of us didn’t think we’d get to celebrating 21 years of New Worlds, but here we are – even if its publishing schedule has been a little erratic, admittedly. I am hoping that there is plenty to celebrate here.


Cover by Richard Hamilton

And with that in mind, let’s go to the issue!

Article: The Languages of Science by Dr. David Harvey

We seem to have given up any pretence of an Editorial now. We’re straight into a Science article, which discusses the importance of language in science, as “a theory … is a language for discussing the facts the theory is said to explain.”


Art from the article: Geometry is important!

It’s interesting in that science is usually considered (at least by me) as being unemotional yet here there’s an argument for the point that it is all down to how we use the language that is important. It also examines the question of whether the language of science is fit for purpose. Not a light read, but another one that makes you think. 3 out of 5.


More art that seems unrelated to the story it is in!

An Age (Part 1 of 3) by Brian W. Aldiss

Another month, another Aldiss – although this is the first part of a new serial. Here time travellers from 2090 spend time in the Cryptozoic. The past has become a destination for a myriad of unusual characters.

Artist Edward Bush describes what the place is like before the story brings in Ann, the girlfriend of motorbike gang leader Lenny. Bush has an affair with Ann and they decide to hop off to the Jurassic together. Before they leave, Edward finds himself being watched by a mysterious woman in black, about whom I suspect we will discover more in the next part.

This is different to the recent Aldiss stories published, although like many of his stories deliberately socially conscious. Also self-conscious. It feels rather like how a British writer believes they should write about a counterculture, with its casual sexual relationships and talk of drugs and mind-travel, but I must admit that I prefer this story to that of the recent Charteris series – at least so far. 4 out of 5.


An advert for the novelisation of this serial from this issue. However, be warned – there might be some future plot details here!

Article: A Fine Pop-Art Continuum by Christopher Finch


Art by Richard Hamilton

This month’s ‘artycle’, (I’ll keep saying it because I like it) examines the work of Richard Hamilton, an artist able to “distil from the idioms of the present a possible language for the future”. I was impressed by the range of work, from paintings to photography to models and even buildings, although much of this is prose trying to describe a medium that seems primarily visual. 3 out of 5.

Solipsist by Bob Parkinson

A quick check – for those who didn’t know, a solipsist is “a very self-centred or selfish” person (as it says in my English Dictionary.) I don’t know about you, but that immediately makes me think that this story is going to be one that spends its time gazing introvertly at itself. And guess what? It does. Lots of empty phrases and Words! With Exclamation Marks! that ape Alfred Bester’s novels from a decade ago. So, to paraphrase: Run! Go now! Avoid! 2 out of 5.

The Men Are Coming Back! by Barry Cole

And in the same manner, approach with caution. The magazine is still trying to bring poetry to the readership, which for me is a bit of a lost cause, frankly – though I hope that one day there will be something I like! At least this one is understandable, if enigmatic. It tells of what happens to a village of women on seeing their men return from somewhere. It casts mockery upon sexual stereotypes, I guess. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Zoline

Camp Concentration (Part 4 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch

In this fourth and final part we see the culmination of Louis Sacchetti’s exposure to the Pallidine bug, and as expected it is not pretty. Sacchetti is now the last remaining prisoner of the inmates there in Camp Archimedes when he arrived, although there are new recruits brought in by Skilliman.

Haast, the prison director, is concerned by Louis’s realisation that Dr. Aimee Busk’s disappearance means that she is spreading the disease to the general public, and therefore within months 30-50% of the American public will be geniuses. The consequences of this is that all of those needed to stabilise society will die and society will collapse, something which Skilliman and his fellow recruits seem to be engineering. Louis’s attempts to make Haast see what is happening initially appear to be unheeded, and there are no signs in the news that changes are happening.

As a consequence of the infection, Louis eventually goes blind but is still able to type. Skilliman continues to taunt Louis. He maintains his friendship with Schipansky and Fredgren, two of Skilliman’s recruits, who despite Skilliman’s attempts to isolate Louis, manage to bring in more visitors. Louis also hallucinates discussions with people as well, such as Thomas Nashe.

At the end, things are resolved. Louis has a stroke, which paralyses him. One of Sacchetti’s visitors, Watson, leads a protest against Skilliman, which Louis is accused of instigating by Skilliman. When Skilliman tries to get Haast to shoot Louis ‘escaping’, he is shot by Haast. Haast then tells Louis that he is Mordecai Washington, who we thought died two parts ago.

It seems that Haast and Mordecai swapped bodies through secret equipment developed by the venereally-infected geniuses during their production of Faust. Louis is then transferred to the body of a guard he has continually referred to as Assiduous. They continue to search for a vaccine.

Frankly, this final part seemed to make more sense than the last, as it draws the story to an end. The last part was confusing – understandably so, admittedly – for its disjointed ruminations on disconnected issues, whereas this time around, Louis’s demise seems to create a more intensely focussed perspective. Although it was flagged up in part 2 of the serial, the ending seems a little bit of a cop-out, though, lacking conviction.

Nevertheless, on balance this is one of the most memorable stories I’ve seen in recent years, and certainly in New Worlds. It is a startling piece of work, although the impact of this has worn off a little since that initial first part. 4 out of 5.


Terrific artwork to illustrate the article on the brain.

Article: The Inconsistent Alpha by Dr. Christopher Evans

This month – and rather appropriate, given what has just happened in Disch’s serial – in his series of articles about the human body, Dr. Evans looks at the brain and brain waves, the alpha wave in particular. 4 out of 5.

The City Dwellers by Charles Platt

Do you remember Charles Platt’s story, Lone Zone which I reviewed back in the July 1965 issue of New Worlds? This one treads similar ground as it is set in a dilapidated city of the future. It’s the story of Manning and a group of fellow emotionless and exhausted characters who try to maintain their difficult existence. There’s fighting between gangs, military weapons on the streets and buildings set light to, as if life in the city wasn’t depressing enough. It’s fine, but nothing special. This one feels like a leftover, filling up a space without any importance. 3 out of 5.

Yes: people are willing to go to war over Baked Beans!

The Baked Bean Factory by Michael Butterworth

I have in the past felt pretty disappointed by Michael’s stories. So I am pleased that this is one I actually liked. It is basically a future-war story, where the combatants are all based on big corporate industries. So we have a Baked Beans company fighting rival corporations referred to as “The Enemy” in Image Warfare, all for the sake of dominance and greater profit. I was amused by this extreme extrapolation of corporate influence, even with its sudden and disappointing ending, but it makes a chilling prediction – could we see a future where big business runs everything? 3 out of 5.

Article: Reverie of Bone by Langdon Jones

A page showing some of Peake's imaginative artwork.

The Assistant Editor reviews the work of artist and writer Mervyn Peake, who you may know for his work Gormenghast. It shows an eclectic body of work, from art to poetry and prose, and hopefully will draw reader’s attention to his work. Peake may be a real version of Louis Sacchetti, a multi-talented genius. 4 out of 5.

This illustration seems to sum up this odd story.

The Last Inn on the Road by Danny Plachta and Roger Zelazny

For me these days, just the appearance of the name ‘Roger Zelazny’ in a magazine is a pleasing one. His work generally shows a range, intelligence and depth that few reach, and I see him as at the vanguard of the American interpretation of the New Wave writers.

With that in mind, then, I think that this is the first collaboration of his I have read. I must admit that I found it a bit disappointing. There’s a satirical tone that seems to echo the mannerisms of Brian Aldiss, but overall this story about Hells Angel-type motor bikers who stop in a garage, murder a priest and a nun and then drive off seems pointless. The involvement of a dog and some celestial aliens are there too, for an unknown reason. Perhaps its meaning is just beyond me. A surprisingly low 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

Thomas Disch this month expounds a lengthy article on the idea of Metropolises in culture and society, which is mainly focused on Oswald Spengler’s ideas in his book The Decline of the West and allows Disch to explain more about Faust, which partly helped me understand his relevance in Camp Concentration. Disch then goes on to review D. F. Jones’s novel Implosion as a story of a future Britain suffering from population decline, and a “moderately entertaining” collection edited by Douglas Hill named The Devil His Due.

The other reviews this month by James Cawthorn are for the “indescribable” The Ganymede Takeover by Philip K. Dick and Ray Nelson, Edmond Hamilton’s "colourful"  Starwolf and Poul Anderson’s The Trouble Twisters, which manages “a smooth blend of science and adventure that few other authors can achieve with such consistency.”


Read some of the biographical details carefully. A poetry magazine entitled "Ronald Reagan", after that film star? Really?

Summing up New Worlds

I’m pleased to read much more fiction this month, and it is of a greater variety. The Disch ends on a bit of a deux ex machina, but is still good, Aldiss continues to produce well written work, and I liked the Peake article. I was pleasingly impressed by the Butterworth story, up to the unimpressive end. The Platt story was OK, but the Zelazny was a disappointment and felt like a minor work, even if competently written.

All in all, not a bad issue, unless you wanted to argue about the imbalance in the new New Worlds between art, articles and fiction.
But, in short, it feels like a stronger issue than the last, and worth me giving my money to. Not quite as much to celebrate as I had hoped for,  but c'est la vie.


And speaking of celebrating anniversaries, I was surprised at how little the magazine’s 21st anniversary was mentioned, other than on the front cover and a tiny box in the Wanted columns.

Although the magazine claims that it is more about looking to the future rather than the past, to me it feels a little like the opposite – almost like the magazine is ashamed of its heritage.

I’m sure that it’s not – and I am pleased that they’ve not seen the occasion as a time to fill the magazine with reprints – but I would have liked a little more reference, I think. After all, 21 years of publication, even if they have been a little "stop-and-start", is quite an achievement for a British science fiction magazine.


No advert for next month's issue, worryingly. Instead, some books to look forward to.

Until the next!



4 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 10, 1967] Women's liberation! (September 1967 Galactoscope)

2 Comments

I have lamented for some time that we've been at a nadir of female participation in our peculiar genre.  If this month's clutch of books be any indication, that trend is finally reversing, to the benefit (for the most part) of all of us science fiction readers!


by Victoria Silverwolf

Wordplay

Two new science fiction novels arrived this month with one-word titles that don't show up in my dictionary. No doubt that's meant to intrigue the potential reader, and create the sense of strangeness associated with much SF. Let's take a look at them and see if we can figure out what the titles mean.

Restoree, by Anne McCaffrey


Anonymous cover art.

Sara is a very ordinary young woman, maybe a little less content with her life than most. She considers herself unattractive, and is particularly sensitive about her large nose. She runs off from an unhappy home to take a job in New York City.

While walking through Central Park one night (not a wise thing for an unaccompanied woman to do, I'd think) she is abducted and taken aboard an alien spacecraft. The opening of the novel is a chaos of strange and disturbing sensations, so we don't really figure this out for a while, but it becomes clear later.

In a way that isn't explained until late in the book, she winds up in a
new body. For some time, she's in a dazed, zombie-like condition, only slowly coming to full awareness. The good news is that she's beautiful, with golden skin and a perfect nose. The bad news is that she's enslaved as a sort of nursemaid to a fellow in a mindless state.

Eventually, she figures out that the fellow has been drugged into catatonia by the bad guys. She helps him return to normal by reducing the amount of drugged food he consumes. The two escape from the hospital/prison and a tale of palace intrigue and space opera adventure begins.

The plot gets pretty complicated, and there are lots of characters with odd names, so I got lost at times. (The drugged man's name is Harlan, by the way; a reference to one of the author's fellow writers? Anyway, he's got the only name I've ever seen before, other than the heroine's.)

Suffice to say that Sara is on another planet, although the inhabitants are completely human. Harlan is the Regent for the planet's young Warlord. The bad guys drugged him, faking it as insanity, in order to control the government in his place. Add in aliens that Harlan's people have been fighting for millennia and rival factions for the throne. A further complication is that Sara has to hide the fact that she's a restoree (there's that word!) or she is likely to be killed as an abomination.

Besides all this science fiction stuff, there are a lot of romance novel aspects to the book. The beautiful, virginal heroine and the dark, mysterious hero fall in love, finally consummating their passion in sex scenes that are far from explicit. I also found a fair amount of subtle humor in the novel, as if the author has her tongue firmly in her cheek. What the evil aliens do to the people they capture stirs in a bit of gruesome horror as well.

The characters, for the most part, are either all good or all bad. The only ambiguous one is the brilliant physician who gave Sara her new body, in the forbidden and universally reviled procedure that made her a restoree. (If he hadn't, she would just be dead.) He does seem to be genuinely concerned with healing the afflicted, but he also works with the bad guys.

Kind of a silly book, really, but mildly entertaining if you turn your brain off. It's the author's first published novel, so let's just say that she shows promise.

Two stars.

Croyd, by Ian Wallace


More anonymous cover art.

The explanation for the title is simple enough; Croyd is the hero's name. He has no other, as far as I can tell.

Croyd is some kind of agent for the galactic government. He is also a Van Vogtian superhuman, with a brain that allows him to do things like go back and forth in time. While waiting to hear the details of his latest assignment, he saves a lady in distress from an abusive man.

There's a lot more to the woman than he realizes. It seems that an alien from another galaxy, bent on conquering the inhabitants of the Milky Way, has her mind inside the woman's body. Next thing you know, her mind is inside Croyd's body, and his is inside the woman's.

The woman's mind is still inside her body as well, so she and Croyd share it as they track down the alien who stole Croyd's body. Meanwhile, a gang of beatnik terrorists are planning to send the asteroid Ceres crashing into Nereid, one of Neptune's moons, where there's a government base. The alien in Croyd's body has to deal with this, to convince people that she's really Croyd.

Things get really complicated. There are alien agents among the government staff, with the ability to hypnotize people into turning against humanity. There's another group of aliens that wants to destroy the entire Milky Way rather than conquer it. Both Croyd in the woman's body and the alien in Croyd's body have to fight their nefarious scheme. There's even a second Croyd mind that shows up inside his purloined body. This one is a stupid brute, intent only on animal pleasures.

With all this going on, and characters rushing back and forth in space and time, this is definitely a wild roller coaster ride. I didn't believe any of it for a second. If McCaffrey's book often has the feeling of a stereotypical woman's romance novel, with science fiction trappings, Wallace's frequently seems like a stereotypical men's adventure novel, with the same decorations.

Two stars.


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

With the New Wave such a strong force in British science fiction at the moment there is a real blurring of the boundaries of what is speculative and what is literary experimentation.

6 Covers: Squares of the City, Greybeard, The Assassination Weapon, The Magus, The Third Policeman, The Master and Margarita
Science fiction or experimental literature? Which is which?

If they had not come of Science fiction publishers and\or from science fiction authors would we consider Squares of the City, Greybeard or Ballard’s cut-up tales to be speculative? By the same token if Fowles’ Magus, O’Brien’s Third Policeman or Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita had been published as Ballantine Paperbacks from Cordwainer Smith or Daniel Keyes, would they be on the Hugo Ballot?

This leads into probably one of the most interesting edge cases of recent years, where the author says she had no intention of writing science fiction but it is hard for the SF community to see it as anything else:

Ice, by Anna Kavan

Cover of Ice by Anna Kavan

In contrast to some recent writers, Kavan’s move into the speculative realm is not as much of a leap. She has been writing since the twenties and her works have often made use of experimental and surrealist techniques, commonly looking at madness and incarceration.

As anyone who has read the stranger side of science fiction, such as Philip K. Dick, these kind of ideas are often played with in the speculative space. However, in this work it definitely feels like she walks over the 49th parallel into SFnal Canada.

In Ice we follow our unnamed protagonist (no one has names here) through a world where society is collapsing under the weight of a frozen disaster. Our narrator seems to be in pursuit of a young woman near the start but the full motivations remain obscure as, even though written in the first person, it is narrated in a very matter of fact style.

In many ways this reminded me of Ballard’s elemental apocalypses, where The Drowning World flooded the world and The Drought boiled it, this one has frozen it. And all involve the characters moving through the disaster riven Earth in a dream-like state, as we get to see insights into their state of mind.

However, where Ballard does more direct exploration of his inner-space, Kavan keeps everything very cold and clinical, written in sharp fragments such as this description of the aftermath of a rape:

Later in the day she did not move, gave no indication of life, lying exposed on the ruined bed as on a slab in a mortuary. Sheets and blankets spilled on to the floor, trailed over the edge of the dais. Her head hung over the edge of the bed in a slightly unnatural position, the neck slightly twisted in a way that suggested violence, the bright hair twisted into a sort of rope by his hands.

There is no mention of our narrator’s feelings on this, it is treated in a disassociated manner, as if he is outside the events being described. This in itself gives us insight, but predominantly by the absence of explanation than by the paucity of it.

Yet, it remains dreamlike in another way, for it follows through in a manner that feels coincidental and directionless. They move between scenes in a way that often led me to look back if I had missed anything. In addition there are regular hallucinations throughout, meaning that we have extra questions as to the reality of what we are seeing.

But I believe this is the point: we are meant to feel isolated and abstracted, just as the protagonist does. To see what we as the reader are appalled and terrified by this world, yet we see someone completely numb to it all as our guide.

I could take you through various sections but really it is one of those books you need to experience, to delve into the atmosphere and feelings (or rather lack thereof) in order to truly understand.

A very high four stars.


by Gideon Marcus

Bringing up the Rear

Ace Books, regular as clockwork, releases a monthly double dose of adventure in the form of the luridly composed Ace Doubles.  In the past, these bundled short novels had a reputation for being rather shallow and adventure-focused, while also being subject to the mercurial editorial whims required to ensure the stories fit in the prescribed lengths.  Over the last few years, however, these volumes have become some of my favorite sources of entertainment, and they've launched the careers of many a new and promising author.  This time around, we've got a veteran paired with a newcomer:

The Winds of Gath, by E.C. Tubb

Earl Dumarest awakens from cold sleep several days prior to his destination.  He is one of the fortunate ones: 15% of the interstellar travelers who take Low Passage on a starship never revive.  But Dumarest's luck ends there–instead of being dropped off at Broome, he must debark on the hell planet of Gath.  On that tidally locked world, the Low Passage travelers are trapped without sufficient funds to leave, exploited by the Resident Factor of Gath despite the efforts of the local enclave of the Church of Universal Brotherhood.

What fuels the economy of this blighted planet?  It is the winds that blow from the baked day side to the frozen night side.  As they whistle along twilight mountain ranges, they set up resonances in the human mind, facilitating all manner of hallucinations: some pleasant, some insanity-inducing.

This natural phenomenon is the least of Dumarest's troubles as he has been plopped down into a budding conflict between the Matriarchy of Kund, the cruel Prince of Emmered, and other miscellaneous galactic forces. Can he thread the needle before the looming tempest envelops them all?

Truth be told, I was not expecting much from E.C. Tubb, a writer who almost invariably merits three stars.  Even more so as the story reminded me strongly of Dune, with its sweeping setting, frequently shifting viewpoint, and its almost mythological character.  The problem, of course, is that Dune was also a three-star tale for me.

So I was quite surprised that this tale grabbed me by the throat and did not let go until I finished, quite soon after I started.  I think the main reason Tubb succeeds where Herbert does not is that Tubb can write!  There are few wasted words, and his prose is sensual and visceral (perhaps he overuses "blood-colored" a touch; crimson would do occasionally).  If Dumarest is a bit too superhuman, he is at least consistent in his abilities, and the limitations thereof.  And such a vividly drawn world–it is clear that Dumarest will have more adventures in the future.

Four stars

Crisis on Cheiron

Carl Race is a Federation junior ecologist brought into investigate an agricultural blight on Cheiron.  The garden-like world is home to a race of primitive but industrious centauroids working with the private enterprise Consolidated Enterprises (humorously abbreviated to "Con En").  There is concern that Con En caused the global catastrophe, which threatens the planet's legume and honey industries, potentially destroying the entire ecosystem.  Should Con En lose its contract to trade with the Cheironi, its rival, Trans-Galactic, will swoop in.

Very quickly, Carl, with the assistance of a human teacher, Marcy, and a precocious Cheironi teen, Nubi, determine not only that the blight is artificially caused, but that there is a nefarious conspiracy involved.  Much rushing around, near-miss assassinations, chase scenes, scientific explanations, and spelunking ensue.  Don't worry–it's got a happy ending.

Author Juanita Coulson is probably better known to the world as half of the editing team of Yandro, a prestigious fanzine that has garnered nearly a dozen Hugo nominations and one win.  This is her first foray into novel writing, and she's not nearly as polished as Tubb.  The first 20 pages are quite rough sledding, and probably could have been pared down to perhaps a page.  In fact, the whole first third is quite padded, and I have to wonder if this was an editorial decree to fill space (this particular Ace Double has very compressed pica, resulting in more words per page).  But I stuck with it, and ultimately I found the book to be decently enjoyable.  It feels pitched at a much younger audience, what was once called "juvenile" and is now coming to be termed as "young adult".  You will probably guess the phenomenon that is the culprit before it is described, but that's fine.  One should be able to solve a mystery from the clues provided.

I appreciate that Marcy is vital to the plot and Carl clearly finds her attractive, but no romance develops between the two leads.  The aborigines are depicted as equals to humans (with good and bad examples of the species), which I would expect as Coulson has been a strident civil rights booster since her college days in the early 1950s.

So, three stars, and congratulations Juanita!



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

[August 26, 1967] The Shock of the New II – Sex and the Modern British SF Reader New Worlds, September 1967

2 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

The strange evolution of the ‘new’ New Worlds continues this month. Be warned – it’s not an issue to loan to minors!


Cover by Peter Phillips

Let’s go to the issue!

This month’s “Leading Article” looks at our fascination with predicting the future – relevant to science fiction, of course! – but then uses this idea to analyse and review a book named The Art of Conjecture by French writer Bernard de Jouvenal. The future is less known than the past and is therefore more uncertain. Usual food for thought, but this seems less a thought experiment and more an editorial review.

Illustration by Zoline

Camp Concentration (Part 3 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch

In this third part, the fact that Louis Sacchetti is now fully infected with the Pallidine bug, and as it has been known to cause madness before death, leads to more madness and “ramblings”, as Louis puts it. Result: lots of religious iconography and internal ponderings in very short extracts ensue. Questions posed such as “Who is there to answer to the sky?” and vivid descriptions such as “My entrails are trodden down in the mire” may give you a clue where we’re going here.

The clever part is that there is a purpose to the madness. Much of the enjoyment here is in reading Disch’s well-constructed paragraphs and trying to determine what the meaning of it all is. It is very Ballardian, in that try-and-connect-the-deliberately-disjointed-paragraphs-together kind of way.

And yes, also in that Ballardian way, it is all starting to fall apart. More prisoners die. Sacchetti is both sicker and scoring higher than ever on the psychometric tests. Dr Busk seems to have run away from Camp Archimedes, and is replaced by Bobby Fredgren, who conducts more tests on Louis. We are also introduced to Skilliman, a person who seems like they’re straight out of Doctor Strangelove and on whom most of the story is spent describing and making up strange fictions about. I suspect that the reasons for this may become more important and more obvious next time. However, the omens are not good for a happy ending next month. 4 out of 5.

Still Trajectories by Brian W. Aldiss

Another month, another Aldiss, still telling us of a near-future Europe that has experienced psychedelic drugs as a result of Russia dropping hallucinogenic bombs in the Acid Head War. Last time it was about Charteris’s travelling around the English Midlands and becoming Saint Charteris, a god-like personality that is worshipped and adored. This time, we begin in Holland with Speed Supervisor Jan Koninkrijk, who describes the kind of decaying place Colin Charteris did in Multi Value Motorway last month. Lots of talk of cars and highways and speed, because we’re still channelling J G Ballard, but also with its talk of a depressed wife with no personality and the presence of ‘omnivision’ I think there’s a little bit of an homage to Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451.

The story steps up a gear (motoring analogy!) when it is revealed that Colin Charteris, the Mad Messiah last seen in England, is due to visit Jan’s home town of Aalter, on what could be seen as a Crusade in a convoy of cars. In his capacity as future-traffic-cop, Koninkrijk picks up Charteris and his girlfriend Angeline. Strange poetry ensues. Jan is affected by what he hears, and at the end abandons his mundane, routine life. The crusade rumbles on.

Like before in previous stories, there’s lots of vivid imagery and wordplay, not to mention things that are meant to mean a lot. Allegories of cars, speed, and crashing abound, although the poetry lost me a bit. Memorable though this story is, these Charteris stories do feel like little more than cut-up sections of a book, a serial in disguise. 3 out of 5.

Article: Psychological Streamlining by Christopher Finch

This month’s ‘artycle’ (I’ll keep saying it because I like it) examines the work of Peter Phillips, which combines Pop Art sensibilities with technical method. Lots of customisation and American imagery as a result.

I’m still not sure whether these articles are mind-blowing or just self-obsessed clap-trap with delusions of grandeur. Some of the sentences here are just ripe for parody. And yet I must admit that they’re showing me things I had never considered before, which I guess is partly the purpose of art. 3 out of 5.

Masterton and the Clerks by John T. Sladek

Here’s that story delayed from last month.

A sort of Kafka-esque satire which seems to be about the mindless routines and meaningless existence of bureaucracy in the modern office as seen through the observations of Henry on his fellow workers and in particular his boss, Mr. Masterton. As is now de rigueur for much of the New Wave stuff, it’s written in that cut-up style, with diagrams, memos and the like. It’s meant to be amusing, but feels also rather pointless and depressing, filled with people that you wouldn’t want to spend time with, never mind reading about in a far-too-long story. But that may be its point.

Unfortunately, or perhaps appropriately for a story set in an office, it reads like a copy of something else or something that we’ve seen before. It almost feels like Disch has written it. Not convinced that this one was worth the wait, to be honest. File in the “Life’s dull and then you die” filing cabinet, albeit perhaps with a faint smile on your face. 2 out of 5.

Article: A New Look at Vision by Christopher Evans

The return of Dr. Evans, who to me still feels a little like a British version of The Good Doctor Asimov. This month he’s looking at new developments in optics, a much-needed development for those of us who are short-of-sight. (I’m tempted to throw in the joke about “If only I could read the small print”, but I shall refrain.) It begins with facts I didn’t know about the eye, before discussing how contact lenses work, and finally explains the experiments on pattern, form and process that allow us a greater understanding of how our brain works. Another informative article on something I didn’t realise I needed to read about. 4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

You may have noticed, like I have, that there seems to be a trend in New Worlds at the moment about stories involving religion. Not sure why, but I am noticing many stories about God/Gods, religious icons, theology and all the rest of it. Perhaps they’ve always been there and I’m only just noticing them? Anyway, the detailed review this month by C. C. Shackleton is of a book by Alex Comfort, The Anxiety Makers, which initially examines the concepts of  New Theology and New Mysticism.

All well and good. The article then links these concepts to Dr. Comfort's book to make the point (I think) that many of today's anxieties are related to ideas from Victorian times that doctors  are obsessed with dealing with. It then goes into some detail on the origins of these anxieties, referred to as the “four horses of the nineteenth-century apocalypse” – masturbation, sexual intercourse, birth control and constipation. I can safely say that these are topics I would never have expected to read of in New Worlds, although to be fair it examines these issues in a rather matter-of-fact manner.

Some of the ideas examined here are quite complex. I'm not even sure that I got them, as there seems to be an assumption that I know something about the topic already. (I do not.) As a result, I'm not really sure of its relevance here, although as an article perhaps meant to shock, I guess it might sell a few more copies. Personally, though, it makes me feel like my copy of New Worlds should be hidden behind the newsagent’s counter… can’t see it being widely promoted on the shelves of my local W H Smiths.

The other reviews this month by James Cawthorn are less titillating and more genre based. Keith Laumer’s A Plague of Demons “moves along briskly, achieves some neat lines of hard-boiled humour and is, above all, entertainment.” Brief mention is also made of Robert Silverberg’s To Open the Sky (religion, again), but this is mainly descriptive rather than analytical.

Summing up New Worlds

Another wide-ranging issue, some of which is on topics I didn’t expect. I feel that the fiction is a minor part of the magazine this month, although it can’t be denied that the magazine seems to be going all out to broaden its readership. The Disch is becoming more obtuse, John Sladek’s Masterton and the Clerks was a disappointment, although I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting.

In short, a solid issue, but not an outstanding one. With the emphasis on articles, I have a feeling that whilst trying to gain new reader’s interest, the staff may be losing their traditional readership. I do wonder what the New Worlds readers of the 1950’s would make of this issue. There’s no denying that there’s science, but where’s the science fiction? Even the fiction seems more literary and less science-fictional than what has gone before.

And I realise that that may be the point.

In this brave new world of New Worlds there may be less space for spaceships and more room for sex – or at least adult topics. This fits in with the brief that Moorcock made his intent years ago, to modernise and adult-ise science fiction, and what the Arts Council want their grant to be used for, but based on what I’m seeing here I’m not sure that it means the magazine has found, or will find, a bigger, more interested audience.


A 21st anniversary issue – has it really been around that long?

Until the next!



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

[July 28, 1967] The Shock of the New – Rabbits, Hedgehogs and Kazoos (New Worlds, August 1967)

6 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After last month’s impressive resurrection of New Worlds, I’m quite intrigued this month to see whether editor Mike Moorcock’s vision of the future of British science fiction magazines can be upheld. Let’s go to the issue!


They say "sex sells". This may be the reason for this cover! Cover by Eduardo Paolozzi

This month’s “Leading Article” is one of those that examines an idea – not always related to science fiction, at least not at first. This month the connection seems obtuse, about creativity and theories of art by focusing on the work of Anton Ehrenzweig.


Again, I think we’re aiming at the new readers drawn to New Worlds by the Art Council rather than by science fiction.


Mind-bending Art meets Philosophy!

It does make you think, though, even if I feel that it is a little too introspective myself. I could be wrong, but this does not feel like a Moorcock editorial, but perhaps rather an Associate Editor Langdon Jones article.

Camp Concentration (Part 2 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch


Illustration by Zoline. This makes sense in the story, honest!

And so to the continuation of the big event story.

A quick recap. Conscientious objector Louis Sacchetti has been imprisoned in Camp Archimedes and given the task by prison commander Humphery Haast of observing other prisoners who are being experimented upon by Doctor Aimee Busk. The group are being given an experimental drug, Pallidine, which will hopefully improve intelligence.

We left the story last time where one of the prisoners, George Wagner, had become ill during a camp performance of Faustus. The group’s ringleader, Modecai Washington, had explained to Louis that the drug only gives them months to live.

Continuing this month, Louis, inspired by the revelation that the prisoners will die, is spurred on to write after months of writer’s block. George Wagner dies. There is a funeral. Sacchetti is admonished by Busk for using the prison library to do a little research of his own.

We discover that Pallidine is a spirochate bug, in actual fact the initiator of syphilis. In the past syphilis has been known to cause madness before death, something which Sacchetti is made very aware of. With this in mind, much of the story becomes increasingly bizarre as the effects of the virus on the infected person’s brain takes hold.

Mordecai’s infection is clearly very advanced and Louis spends much of the beginning of this story listening to Mordecai explaining how little time he has left and explaining how the cumulative effects of syphilis progress, in some vivid detail. This is emphasised by the point that Mordecai has three ‘familiars’ – rabbits infected with the disease – because the effects of Pallidine on rabbits are the same as humans, but happen much faster. (This also explains the strange pencil illustrations of rabbits seen over these two first parts.)

The intense intellectual discussions and the increasingly surreal events he experiences inspire Louis’s writing of a play entitled Auschwitz: A Comedy, which he describes as “fantastic”.

However much of the last part of the story describes Sacchetti’s observation of the prison performance of Faustus – a very odd, quasi-religious performance, involving camp commander Haast as a Messianic figure wearing a 'crown of thorns' made up from an electrocardiograph machine on stage. Before the performance reaches its ending though, Mordecai dies.

That night Louis has strange yet vivid dream of a conversation with Saint Thomas Aquinas. As a result, upon waking, he realises that he is as much of a prisoner as the other inmates.

Shocked yet? You’re meant to be.

In a lot of ways, this second part of the story continues what happened in Part One, but in understandably more extreme ways. The decay of the physical body and the brain, combined with the increasingly bizarre degeneration of the mind, is quite well done, although this means that much of the plot is pseudo-intellectual talk, lengthy yet meaningful diatribes and random navel-gazing. We have much talk of philosophers and art, alchemy, James Joyce and religion as the disease takes hold.

Consequently, I found that much of this part of the story was intellectual fluff and provocative imagery that, although interesting, did little to progress things. It was challenging and thoughtful, yes, but also long-winded and even a little dull. It felt more like a university philosophy lecture than anything else, rather like the author was showing off his knowledge rather than portraying anything of actual purpose.

Don’t get me wrong, Camp Concentration is still fascinating and often gripping, even as it becomes increasingly odd and remains incessantly downbeat. I’m still interested to see how this continues in the next issue. 4 out of 5.

The Green Wall Said by Gene Wolfe

And now a much shorter and simpler story from a new author to me, American Gene Wolfe. This is a story of aliens abducting humans to ask for help. I found it to be an interesting one in that I think it is written in a style that shows a slightly different take on what is now seen as British New Wave.

It is "cut-up", having two narrative threads running side-by-side, but more linear and more straightforward than say, the works of Disch and Ballard. As a result, it is more memorable for me. I like the ambiguity of the ending! I would be interested to read more from this writer. 3 out of 5.

Article: Language Mechanisms by Christopher Finch

This month’s ‘arty’ article (artycle?) examines the work of sculptor Eduardo Paolozzi, a person I was not aware of before reading this article but makes fascinating reading here. Paolozzi seems to integrate inspirations from wide-ranging sources such as writer William Burroughs, the Dadaism movement and philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, which fit right into the sort of material the magazine is currently writing about. Lots of pictures too, to illustrate.

I’d be interested to hear what other readers make of this as part of New Worlds though. Is this something that is genuinely new and adds to the magazine’s appeal, or is it instead a case of the artist disappearing into a self-imposed balloon of introspection? Putting it simpler: is it mind-blowing or just self-obsessed clap-trap with delusions of grandeur? And does it deserve a place in New Worlds? One I might need to think about more myself. 4 out of 5.

Kazoo by James Sallis

A new writer to me, writing here in a faux-hip style that seems both terribly new and yet terribly dated at the same time. Reminds me of Samuel R. Delany, William S. Burroughs and Anthony Burgess – deliberately, I think – with its made-up language and hipster-style prose.

It seems like a day in the life of Ferdinand Turnip, and uses John Lennon-eque turns of phrase to describe a set of strange events. Turnip is first attacked on an urban street, but then the two agree to have lunch. He then goes to the blood bank, joins in with a street band, (Guess what – he plays a kazoo) goes to his artist’s studio and drinks turpentine, then meets his partner Bella who breaks up with him. I’m fairly sure the last line is meant to be an ‘amusing’ double-entendre, but it’s difficult for me to tell, if I’m honest.

It’s OK as a stylistic piece, although tries too hard to be clever for me. But at least it is a little different from what all the other stories seem to be trying this month. One for the hip cats, which I am clearly not. 3 out of 5.


No, I don't know what this means, either!

Mars Pastorale, Or, I’m Fertile, Said Felix by Peter Tate

Allegorical tale about the self-aware growth of a plant juxtaposed with the story of Felix Jimpson, and his partner Velvet, recently arrived on Mars. I could be wrong, but it seems to be about the dichotomy between modern technology and nature on Mars.

Perhaps best summed up with a quote from the story: “What else is a poet or any other writer except a hedgehog trying to find a voice to yell at oncoming death?” which will either intrigue you or make you want to run for the hills. It is so ridiculous it makes me think that the story is meant to be satire.

Another deliberately obtuse, rather pretentiously symbolic tale. I may have read the satire wrong, but generally it seems to be trying too hard and worse, it feels like it has been done before. 2 out of 5.

Multi Value Motorway by Brian Aldiss

Another interesting experiment from Brian as he continues to channel his inner-Ballard. This feels like part of a story, more so when I realised that it involved Colin Charteris, who I last encountered in Just Passing Through, a story in the February issue of SF Impulse . It continues the idea that much of Europe has experienced psychedelic drugs as a result of Russia dropping hallucinogenic bombs in the Acid Head War. Last time it was about Charteris’s experiences of Western Europe. This time it is a splintered story of Charteris’s travels around the English Midlands, observing pop culture, teenagers, sex and motorway crashes creating art, and ending with Charteris becoming Saint Charteris, a god-like personality that is worshipped and adored. Perhaps best described as “If Aldiss wrote Ballard”, or perhaps more fittingly, “If Ballard wrote Aldiss”, as it is less cut-up than J.G.’s usual work.

Still intriguing, though, even if it feels like only part of a story. 4 out of 5.

Article: New Directions in Medicine by Brig.-Gen. Thomas H. Crouch

Another article, this time on how new science, often developed by the military, has led to innovations being taken up in the wider world.

Laser beams for surgery! Robotic prosthetics! Velcro closure tape! I found it interesting to read how new ideas are becoming generally available in the real world.

Science fiction is often seen as “the fiction that predicts the future”, and this article seems to confirm that (even if I think that it's not always true, myself!) I suspect that we will see most of these being commonly used in the future. 4 out of 5.

Concentrate 1 by Michael Butterworth

Michael Butterworth has appeared in New Worlds before, last time in October 1966 with The Steel Corkscrew. His work seems to be liked because it is different, and so is this. Concentrate 1 is more of a prose poem than prose or a poem, a mercifully short piece on – well, I’m not sure what. More seemingly disjointed ramblings, with some nicely written prose but deliberately no linear narrative. I understand that his writing is popular, but I still can’t shake the general feeling that the author wants to be Ballard and is not as good. This month’s “not for me” piece. 2 out of 5.

Book Reviews

The detailed review this month is by already-mentioned author Thomas M. Disch, of Harry Mathews’s Tlooth. (No, I hadn’t heard of it either.) Despite Disch’s claims that his enthusiasm for Mathews’s work borders on the “evangelical”, and his thoughtful and detailed analysis of this novel, I was less impressed. The book sounds very Disch-like, and I can see why he likes it, although I feel that it is not something I want to spend time with.

Brian Aldiss reviews Jeremy Seabrooks’s social history novel The Unprivileged. No, I’ve not heard of that one, either, but Aldiss seems impressed with the honest telling of the history of the Seabrook family from 1779, although it does sound to be filled with poverty, punishment and hardship.

Elsewhere James Cawthorn reviews Norman Spinrad’s story of cannibalism in The Men in the Jungle, Fritz Leiber’s “erotic interlude” The Wanderer, the “admirable” The Best from Fantasy & SF 16 and the “dull” Extrapolasis by Alexander Malec.

Summing up New Worlds

Another good issue on the new magazine that is New Worlds. Whilst John Sladek’s Masterton and the Clerks, advertised last month, hasn’t appeared, the Disch still impresses. It does not seem quite as strong as it started, but is still one of the most memorable stories I’ve read in years.

The rest seems to be settling down into this new format impressively. Science, art, philosophy – all are covered, although at the expense of fiction, perhaps. Regarding the fiction, I liked the Wolfe and can see how, like Disch and Sladek, this American author’s story may be influenced by this British New Wave.

However, many of the stories in this issue feel like variations of the same style, echoing Ballard and the like, and as a result the issue’s fiction is more demanding to read than many earlier issues, but less varied in style. Perhaps a little more worrying, what once gained traction by being new, original and shocking is now surprisingly less so, with the influence of Burroughs and Ballard looming large and throughout. It is clear that the editor and his assistants like what they publish – but do the readers?

As a reader, I can see that in future me not liking everything (or is that understanding everything?) in New Worlds is going to be a regular comment. However, at the moment there is enough to keep me better informed, interested and entertained – even if the new New Worlds feels more like a University magazine than an SF digest.

Until the next!



6 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 18, 1967] Highs and Lows (July Galactoscope #2)

7 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

We've had a bit of a backlog of books here at the editorial desk, and the only remedy was to have two back-to-back Galactoscopes. Luckily, summer is slow season for TV, and thus the schedule opens up a bit. Sometimes, our book review column comprises a clutch of mediocrities. This time around, the disparity in quality was abnormally high–mostly thanks (no thanks!) to the debut novel by one Piers Anthony…

Chthon, by Piers Anthony

Imagine a world where genetic modification has created a monstrous race of humans. The women are near-immortal semi-telepaths, but they suffer from an emotional inversion: they only feel love and joy when men express hate and pain. You can imagine how warped the ensuing society must be, the females doomed to solicit violence from their partners, the men compelled to express their every animalistic whim on them. One woman of this race escapes this planet, but, a slave to her make-up, cannot escape her wretched fate. Thus, she marries a man wracked with guilt from the death of his first wife in childbirth. When his love for the alien woman becomes unalloyed, she must leave, but not before she bears a child.

But the alien woman still requires love, twisted, painful love, to live. So she seduces her own son, thus ensuring his passion for his mother will always be the appropriate mix of pleasure and pain, and they can live happily ever after.

In-between these episodes, the story takes place on Chthon, the hellish underground garnet mine whence the son is sentenced for murder. Naked and toolless, he must devise an escape, resorting to treachery, violence, rapine, and cannibalism. Of course, we know he will escape because author Piers Anthony elected to tell the story in a ping-pong flashback/flashforward style, starting and ending with scenes on Chthon.

This is a terrible book.

The premise, fundamentally implausible, seems tailored to indulge a male id-fantasy. We already have a problem in our current society whereby women are "othered" into a different species: vain, frivolous, subservient, sinister, yet desirable. With Chthon, Anthony comes up with a scientificititious explanation for why his starring woman must be that kind of creature. Not that the other women in the novel fare much better, consisting of a slave and vicious fellow Chthonian prisoners.

I'm sure Anthony would say that the book is unpleasant because it bares the human (i.e. male) soul, revealing the sordid mess underneath we'd rather not acknowledge. That all men desire to possess our mothers, rape our partners. That hate is really the purest kind of love.

Mr. Anthony needs professional help. Chthon is an odious turd, and I suspect its author is, too. One star, and winner of this year's "Queen Bee" award.


by Cora Buhlert

Like our esteemed host, I also had the misfortune of reading Chthon. I spotted the paperback in my friendly local import store and was intrigued enough by the unusual title to pull it out of the spinner rack. And while I have not read much by Piers Anthony – and am now unlikely to ever read more – he is one of Cele Goldsmith Lalli's discoveries and she normally has a good eye for authors. The blurb on the back of the slim paperback – promising a tale of an inescapable space prison and a man sent there for pursuing a forbidden love affair – sealed the deal, because I am a sucker for space prison stories.

The scenes set on Chthon, the hellish prison planet cum garnet mine, are indeed the one redeeming grace of this novel. Genuinely atmospheric and visceral, they immediately drew me in. However, even these scenes are marred by what will become a recurrent problem, namely the fact that every single woman protagonist Aton Five meets wants to have sex with him, while Aton manfully refuses, because there can only be one woman for him: Malice the forbidden minionette (i.e. his mother, though he doesn't know that yet).

Scenes of Aton's life leading up to his incarceration are interspersed with the scenes on Chthon. Again, there are some interesting ideas here, such as hvee flowers which Aton's family cultivates and which can detect true love. And once again, the good ideas are marred by off-putting sex scenes, such as fourteen-year-old Aton trying to have sex with a thirteen-year-old neighbour girl and failing because human girls have anatomy and fluids, unlike his idealized vision of minionettes.

When Aton rapes a woman on Chthon, the book came close to hitting the wall and I only prevailed because I had promised to review it for the Journey. The book did actually hit the wall – and considering how expensive import paperbacks are, that's saying something – once we got to the planet of the minionettes, genetically engineered to be masochists and enjoy pain, and of course the final twist of just why Aton has been so obsessed with Malice since he was seven years old and that their "love" is forbidden for a very good reason.

Honestly, this is a terrible book. The sexual revolution and the New Wave have made it easier for science fiction to address formerly taboo subjects like sexuality. But just because authors can write about sex now, doesn't necessarily mean that they should foist their sexual fantasies upon unsuspecting readers, particularly the kind Piers Anthony appears to harbor.

Zero stars. Stay away!

Belmont Double 5F0-759

Belmont Publishing has decided to take on the Ace Double is a flaccid sort of way by combining two novellas (calling them "two complete novels") in one thin volume. This is the first result.

Peril of the Starmen, by Kris Neville

First up Kris Neville's 1954 story, Peril of the Starmen, which first appeared in the magazine Imagination. You're welcome to give it a read if you like.

The Flame of Iridar, by Lin Carter

Considering how harsh I was on The Star Magicians, I was surprised to find that Lin Carter's The Flame of Iridar, published as an Ace Double knock-off by Belmont together with Peril of the Starmen by Kris Neville, reprinted from the January 1954 issue of Imagination, was the better of the two books I read this month. Not that this is a high bar to clear, considering how utterly terrible Chthon was.

That said, Lin Carter's writing has improved since last year's The Star Magicians. True, his prose is still overly purple – thews are inevitably iron and mighty, blood and pain are inevitably scarlet, and female breasts are inevitably described by inappropriate adjectives – and Carter is still oddly preoccupied with lovingly describing his protagonist's manly physique. However, at least Carter remembers who his protagonist is this time around.

The protagonist is one Chandar of Orm, a deposed prince turned pirate on ancient Mars, when it still had oceans. If this setting seems familiar, that's because it is, borrowed wholesale form Leigh Brackett's much superior 1949 novel Sea-Kings of Mars, better known as The Sword of Rhiannon, the title under which it was published as the very first STF Ace Double back in 1953 together with another excellent fantasy adventure, Conan the Conqueror by Robert E. Howard. And indeed, Carter acknowledges this influence and dedicates The Flame of Iridar to Leigh Brackett and her husband Edmond Hamilton.

Thrilling Wonder Stories, July 1946

Ace Double Conan the Conqueror and Sword of Rhiannon

The opening of the novel finds Chandar of Orm in deep trouble. After a successful career as a pirate, he has been captured by the evil warlord Niamnon (occasionally spelled Niamnor in what I hope is not indicative of the quality of Belmont's copy-editing), the man who slaughtered Chandar's entire family in front the then twelve-year-old boy's eyes, and has been sentenced to die in Niamnon's arena, a fate Chandar himself imagines as follows:

A few more hours of darkness, and then the blinding morning sun on the arena sands… a few moments of scarlet pain… and he would rest… forever.

However, before it can come to that, Chandar and his comrade-in-arms Bram are freed by the enchanter Sarkond of K'thom, advisor to none other than King Niamnon himself. Sarkond also helpfully reveals Niamnon's plans of conquest and promises to take Chandar back to his pirate comrades. And in return, he only asks for a little favour. Use the Axe of Orm, a magical weapon that can only be wielded by a member of Chandar's family, to pierce the enchanted Wall of Ice that surrounds the magical realm of Iophar. What can possibly go wrong?

To no one's surprise, Sarkond double-crosses Chandar as soon as Chandar has fulfilled his purpose and hacked through the Wall of Ice. However, Chandar is saved by Meliander, exiled brother of the villainous King Niamnon.

What follows is an epic clash of the forces of good and evil. Chandar also gets revenge on Niamnon and his throne back. Furthermore, he gets entangled with two women, the witch Mnadis, whose breasts are "high and proud", and Llys, Queen of Iophar, whose breasts are "sweet and virginal". Three guesses with which of the two ladies Chandar ends up.

In many ways, The Flame of Iridar feels like the sort of swashbuckling planetary adventure that might have been found in the pages of Planet Stories or Thrilling Wonder Stories twenty years ago. It's not as good as Leigh Brackett or Edmond Hamilton at their best, but then who is?

An entertaining adventure that feels like a throwback to the pulp era. Three stars.


by Gideon Marcus

And to continue our positive mood (because after Chthon, a double dose is necessary), let's all dig on Ted White's latest novel:

The Jewels of Elsewhen, by Ted White

Arthur Ficarra, an exhausted ex-beat cop-cum-desk-sergeant, just wants his subway ride to end so he can go to sleep after an overlong shift. But when he responds to the death rattle of a fellow passenger, he discovers to his horror that the stricken man, and everyone on the train but one, is just a mannequin, the train a cardboard model. Only Arthur and a young woman named Kim remain human. Indeed, it turns out they are now the only living things in all of New York City.

But this is not the Big Apple they remember. It is subtly changed, freshly painted, with hollow buildings. Almost a model of itself. And it is disintegrating…

Escape takes them on a whirlwind tour of alternate timelines, the common element of which is that the people speak some variety of Italian. There also is the sense of deliberate manufacture, as well as a shepherding of world events by a secret society of cloaked individuals. Arthur and Kim must solve the riddle of these artificial universes before they are captured and dispatched by these caretakers.

I came in without knowing what to expect. Sure, Rose Benton gave White's last book, Android Avenger, a whopping five stars, but I'd never gotten a chance to read it. All I really knew about the author was that he doesn't like Star Trek (per his column in the latest issue of the Yandro fanzine), he helps edit Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he's chair of the NyCon 3 committee.

I really dug this book. It's written in a punchy but understated style well-suited to mainstream fiction; indeed, I have to wonder if White makes most of his money out of the genre. He's certainly good enough. Arthur and Kim are compelling, strong characters, and the divergent timetracks are nicely detailed. I was in recent correspondence with Ted, and I mentioned that the book reminded me a bit of Laumer's Worlds of the Imperium books. He replied that the resemblance was intentional, and that Laumer had a strong influence on him.

If anything, I like White's even better! Four stars.



7 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 16, 1967] The Weird and the Surprising (July 1967 Galactoscope)

9 Comments


by Jason Sacks

Philip K. Dick has a new novel out. And guess what, it’s very strange. Are you shocked?

The Ganymede Takeover, by Philip K. Dick & Ray Nelson

The space slugs have taken over the Earth.

Those slugs come from the distant planet Ganymede. Earth is their first invasion target ever. But they have ambitions. The Ganymedeans have managed to conquer and occupy our planet. However, the slugs are failing at their third objective: to absorb the people of Earth as their servants.

Resistance is strong in at least one area of the planet: the Bale of Tennessee. There, he will have to fight the Neegs, who are led by a violent revolutionary named Percy X. The dreaded assignment of conquering that area goes to Mekkis, an insecure slug whose fortune bodes poorly.

Mekkis and his fellow conquerors have one great weapon at hand they can use to defeat the humans. A human, the neurotic Dr. Baldani, condemned as quisling, has developed a reality distortion bomb, which can destroy all of humanity. But will he allow that weapon to be used?

The Ganymede Invasion, a rare collaboration between Philip K. Dick and Ray Nelson, is dense as hell and weird as hell. Dick and Nelson make a pretty good team. Nelson smooths out Dick while Dick makes Nelson weird. Their San Francisco writers’ workshop friends must love the stories the pair creates

The esteemed Mr. Nelson

Truth be told, I missed Dick’s wild randomness at times; I was genuinely shocked that nearly all the elements introduced in the first chapter resolve by the end! Meanwhile, Nelson pushed Dick to go even further with his usual psychedelia, with references to supermarket carts with submachine guns and to vorpal meat cleavers, among many other stunning images. It’s the Summer of Love and this book came from the San Francisco area, so how can you ask for anything timelier?

The Black Panthers at the California state capitol, earlier this year

Percy X is the most intriguing character in the novel. Percy can be seen as an analog to Malcolm X, which would make the Neegs the equivalent of the Black Panther Party. Or he can be seen as a reflection of Perseus, the Greek legend who slayed monsters and came to found the republic of Mycenae. Either interpretation would fit this story. Percy is a crusader, a fighter against the literal monsters of the Ganymedeans and is a true hero. Heck, the name Ganymede implies a reference to Medea.

Philip K. Dick, Nancy Dick, and Robert Silverberg conversing in lobby, Baycon

I haven’t discussed the sentient hotel rooms or talking, neurotic taxi cabs or even a key Quisling type character in the book. There’s just too much to cover in a review like this and I want you to be surprised by what you read.

 The Ganymede Invasion isn’t great Dick, but it is hugely entertaining. And like nearly every novel by PKD, Ganymede is a short quick read. I recommend this oddball collaboration.

3 stars.


by Gideon Marcus

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, by Harlan Ellison

The third collection of Ellison stories contains the now-typical set of introductions which folks often like as much as the stories they precede. It's a thin volume, with just seven pieces, and it suffers for being less tonally nuanced than the prior two collections. The subject is pain, Harlan's personal pain, and while I'm sure the tales were cathartic to write for him, by the end, they all start to sound like Harlan kvetching to us over a Shirley Temple at around 3am.

Not that they're bad–Harlan is a gifted author–but they are somewhat one-note and unsubtle. To wit:

  1. I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream: The last five humans are trapped in the bowels of the sapient computer who hates and torments them. This is the unexpurgated version of the story that appeared in IF a few months prior, with less veiled references to homosexuality and genitalia.

    It's a raw, powerful piece. Four stars.

  2. Big Sam was My Friend: An interstellar carnival makes a stop on a planet with a tradition of human sacrifice. Big Sam, the circus strong man, can't let them go through with it…with disastrous results. Interesting more for the detail than the events.

    Three stars.

  3. Eyes of Dust: On a world devoted to and obsessed with personal beauty, can deformity be tolerated? Be careful – perfection may need imperfection to exist!
     
    Another passionate story, but somehow forgettable. Three stars.
     
  4. World of the Myth: Three astronauts are stranded on a planet: a cruel but charismatic man, the woman who loves him, and the nice fellow who loves the woman. They meet a race of telepathic ants, conversation with whom reveals the true nature of the parties communicating. Can the astronauts stand that knowledge?
     
    It's a neat setup, but a rather prosaic story. Three stars.

    5.  

  5. Lonelyache: A widower is tormented by dreams in which he is hounded by assassins, forced to dispatch them in the most brutal of fashions. Gradually, the man becomes aware that there is an inchoate…something…sharing his apartment, feeding on his unhappiness. Can he escape its thrall before it's too late?
     
    The story with the most Harlan-esque voice. Three stars.

    6.  

  6. Delusion for a Dragon Slayer: To all respects, Warren Glazer Griffin was the milquetoastiest of milquetoasts. But when he died in a freak accident, he was allowed to live an afterlife fantasy in which he indulged all of his suppressed depravities. The result isn't pretty.
     
    Three stars.

    7.  

  7. Pretty Maggie Moneyes: Inspired by a true encounter (and with the best introduction of the collection), this is the tale of the woman who sold her soul for comfort, lost it permanently to a slot machine, and resorted to desperate measures to get free.

With the intro, I give it four stars.

For the collection, 3.5 stars.


by Robin Rose Graves

City of Illusions by Ursula K. Le Guin

An amnesiac narrator on a planet of liars. Le Guin takes us far into Earth’s future where humanity has regressed under the domination of a group of aliens called the Shing.

Our main character is Falk, who looks almost human except for his slitted yellow eyes. He wakes up in the forest with no memory of where he came from and mentally reduced back to the mind of a baby. Falk is taken in by a family and rehabilitated, all the while learning their culture, which fears the Shing who now control Earth and hinder civilization from developing to be any larger than scattered small groups of people across the planet. The Shing are most notable for being liars, something Falk is warned about throughout the book. However, in order to reclaim the answers that were stolen from him, Falk must leave the family and seek out the Shing.

The book drags during the first 80 pages as Falk travels alone through nature. This part serves well to relay the isolation of his journey and to show the effect the Shing’s presence has on Earth’s development. However, overall nothing of great significance happens in this part of the book.

Once Falk gets captured by a hostile group of humans, he meets a slave woman named Strella with whom he plots his escape in exchange for her guiding him to the Shing. Here the book becomes interesting, particularly when something Strella says suggests that the reason Falk has been stripped of his memory might be because that is how the Shing punish criminals. It made me wonder if Falk is really the good guy after all.

However, it isn’t until Falk reaches the City of Illusion that the story reaches its full potential and lives up to its name, as deceptions are uncovered and more information is revealed to Falk, who doesn't know what is true and what is false – including everything he has experienced up until this point. He’s unable to trust the Shing and unsure if they have ulterior motives. I had a lot of fun reading these chapters. Something would be revealed only to be quickly disproved and it made for an exciting read where I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next because I barely knew what the truth was – much like the hero.

The end chapters redeem the slow beginning. For a small world, Le Guin well establishes Earth as something distant and foreign to a modern reader. The plot exercises the brain and leaves the reader in suspense. However, this book is far longer than it needed to be. For 160 pages long, the first 80 pages are particularly empty and I think Le Guin could have achieved the same story by cutting out half the words.

I enjoyed this book, but it failed to impress. 3 stars.

The Strength to Dream


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Colin Wilson
The Young Philosopher himself

There have been many surprising entries into SF writing, but perhaps none more so than Colin Wilson taking on H. P. Lovecraft.

Covers for Colin Wilson's The Outsider and Introduction to the New Existentialism

Best known as a philosopher, Colin Wilson received great acclaim for his first book The Outsider and continues to be successful in this arena, including last year’s Introduction to The New Existentialism.

Covers to Colin Wilson's Fiction novels Ritual in the Dark and the Glass Cage

He has also attempted to express some of his ideas in popular crime fiction, such as Ritual in the Dark and The Glass Cage.

Neither of these avenues lead directly to science fiction, let alone Lovecraft. So how did it happen?

Apparently, Wilson is a fan of the concepts of Lovecraft and had written an essay saying so but expressing distaste for his actual prose. August Derleth saw this and wrote to Wilson suggesting he write his own book on these themes.

The result is The Mind Parasites, what could be described as Post-Lovecraftian. An optimistic existentialist new-wave cosmic horror, which is likely to either impress or appall the reader!

The Mind Parasites by Colin Wilson

The story starts in 1997, with Dr. Austin learning of the suicide of his friend and colleague Dr. Weissman. The news unsettles him, but the world suicide rate has been increasing over the decades and is in fact a major concern of many people. Delving into his papers, Austin discovers Weissman had been experimenting with ways of expanding his consciousness but became fearful of an evil presence.

At the same time Dr. Austin is working on a dig in Turkey. They discover a remarkable Proto-Hattian settlement where the inhabitants worship “Aboth the Unclean” and have massive blocks of stone which should have been impossible to move in 10000 BC. The site becomes a sensation when an elderly August Derleth notes how much this mirrors the stories of writer H. P. Lovecraft.

These two facts come together to form a startling discovery: for centuries mankind has had its progress impeded by a force that feeds on our despair. The Mind Parasites!

Whilst the concepts and themes are definitely of the cosmic horror seen in 30s Weird Tales, it is also most clearly something different.

Firstly, its writing is more academic than purple prose. This story is said to be compiled from a variety of papers in the early 21st century, explaining the unusual world events in the early 1990s. The fact that it is being told from the future provides an explanation for the style and shows the author giving real consideration to the context.

Secondly, in keeping with Wilson’s “New Existentialist” ideals, the characters are not simply the victims of ideas too big to grasp. Instead this is an ode to the limitless potential of the human mind. Rather than nihilistic, the ending is optimistic and the revelation about the true nature of the titular creatures was a fascinating surprise to me.

Thirdly, and what is likely to repel some readers, is that large passages are devoted to discussion of various theories of the mind and man’s place in the universe. These sections read more like Huxley’s Heaven and Hell than an Ashton Smith fantasy. That is not to say there is not plenty of action, with scenes involving wars, ESP and space flight. But your tolerance for exploration of Wilson’s pet theories is likely to dictate your enjoyment.

Grading this on a standard scale is tough as it is so strange and experimental. So I am giving it a – very subjective – five stars!

And because we have so many books to review, we'll be having another Galactoscope in just two days! Stay tuned…



9 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[June 26, 1967] Change is Here (New Worlds, July 1967)

8 Comments


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

It’s been a while, but I’m pleased to finally receive a copy of the new New Worlds. (Note: no longer with sf impulse.)

And it is new, and different.

The first noticeable change was heralded by the slap of the magazine landing on my doormat. Clearly designed to compete with the big glossies on the newsagent’s shelves, New Worlds has changed from the paperback size (7 inches x 4 ½ inches) to something that is 11 inches by 8 ½ inches. It reminds me of that change that Analog Magazine tried a couple of years ago.

As fellow Traveller Kris explained back in March, the magazine now has funding from the UK Arts Council – the rumours seem to suggest somewhere in the region of £120 000. So we now get bigger (in size, if not in the number of pages) and glossier, determined to impress. But is it enough? Let’s go to the issue!

Another change. The “Editorial” has now become the “Leading Article”. Presumably this is to let other writers than the editor Mike Moorcock to do some of the writing. This issue states that the article is by Moorcock with “editorial contributions and assistance from Thomas M. Disch and (Mrs Moorcock) Hilary Bailey” on the contents page.

Other than that, the message is pretty much the usual – change is here and this magazine reflects that change. There is an emphasis on social change and the social sciences, “imperfect as they are” being the new place to go to examine the human condition as it is – and by looking at the past how the human condition has changed. To do this, the writers cover a broad range of ideas, from Victorian melodrama to religion, Freud, Kafka and Viet Nam. All good stuff and thought-provoking, not to mention controversial – I suspect Analog readers might have something to say on the matter!

Really though, it is the usual ideas that we’ve seen in recent Editorials in New Worlds, albeit for a potentially new audience.

Illustration by Zoline

Camp Concentration (part 1 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch

And so to this month’s big event story.

The story is told in a diary format. As the narrator, Louis Sacchetti, begins his tale we discover that he is in Springfield prison with a five year sentence for being “a conchie”, a conscientious objector to the war the US is fighting. (There are deliberate parallels here with Viet Nam, I think.) Without warning, writer Sacchetti finds himself being taken from Springfield to Camp Archimedes, where he is to be an observer and write as if to an outsider what the Camp is like. He is well looked after, although the reason for this is initially unknown.

He meets fellow prisoners George Wagner and Mordecai Washington, the nominal leader of the prison inmates, and Doctor Aimee Busk, who explains that George is part of an experimental group at Camp Archimedes attempting to enhance intelligence.

Sacchetti meets more of the prisoners. Like in some bizarre alternate version of a WW2 prisoner-of-war film, Sacchetti agrees to help set up a theatre production by the prisoners, that of Marlowe's Faustus. During the performance George becomes violently ill. Mordecai explains to Sacchetti that it is a side-effect of being given Pallidine, a drug that rots the brain and gives the person months to live whilst hopefully improving intelligence.

The drug enhancement made me think that Camp Concentration is like Daniel Keyes’s Flowers for Algernon, but for a more grown-up, more worldly-wise and drug-aware audience. The whole story (so far, anyway!) is dark, unsettling and decidedly adult, more Aldiss than Asimov. Filled with cultural and literary references, we are a long way away from the traditional space opera here, although I can see that this nearly continuous name-dropping may be wearisome in the long-term.

Last time, in the "Up and Coming" advertisement for this issue,  Moorcock declared Camp Concentration to be the finest sf novel we have ever published. I was a little wary of the hyperbole, personally, but I must admit that this is actually pretty good, a more contemporary version of Orwell’s nightmarish autocratic vision in 1984, perhaps.

It’s not always easy reading, and some of the language used is quite shocking and not for everyone, but this is big, bold science fiction and a story for our modern times. I can’t wait to see where it goes next. 5 out of 5.

The Death Module by J. G. Ballard

Appropriate illustration for the cut-up world of J. G. Ballard. Illustration by Douthwaite.

Leading the British sector of the so-called New Wave, where would we be without a contribution from England’s “Mr Chuckles”, J. G. Ballard? Irony aside, this is typically anti-utopian stuff made up of the usual cut-up snippets and dense yet precise prose we expect from Mr. Ballard.

Regular readers of his work will find characters from previous work reappear – Karen Novotny, Coma, Kline, Xero, Ralph Nader, J. F. Kennedy, Harvey Oswald – now joined by the three dead (and thankfully unnamed) astronauts of the recent Apollo disaster, though to what exact purpose is under debate. Images of sex, pornography and crashing vehicles proliferate in this collage of moments. As baffling as ever, fans will appreciate more of the bleakness and the dour mood that typically suffuse Ballard’s work. Intellectually disconcerting. 4 out of 5.

1937 A. D. ! by John T. Sladek

John Sladek has been appearing a lot in the British magazines lately. Whilst not quite as noticeable as Disch or Zelazny, he has been known to be creating readable stories of interest. This is another one, a time-travel story that in its setting and lighter tone has the feel of a Bradbury rather than a Wells – or perhaps a Clifford Simak. Amusing and well done, if nothing really new. 3 out of 5.

Article: Sleep, Dreams and Computers by Dr. Christopher Evans

This heralds the return of science articles to New Worlds. Dr. Christopher Evans is known here for his articles on computers. He’s not Isaac Asimov, admittedly, but his article on computers, sleep and machine intelligence (they are connected here!) is accessible and written in a prose that is not intimidating. 4 out of 5.

The Heat Death of the Universe by P. A. Zoline

Zoline is perhaps known for her art – there is some of it in the magazine! – but here her prose “does a Ballard” and is presented in small, easily digestible chunks. 3 out of 5.

Not So Certain by David Masson

The return of David Masson brings me mixed feelings. When his work is good, it is very, very good – see his story Traveller’s Rest, for example, back in the September 1965 issue.

However, some of his more recent stories have been less impressive – often still ambitious, but for me lacking something.

The good news is that I enjoyed this one a little more than some. Not so Certain deals with one of Masson’s interests that has appeared in his stories before – that of linguistics and syntax. It is pleasantly complex, although overall the story feels like a lecture, heavy on its didactics. As a result, it is rather like Ballard’s work to me – complex, intelligent and yet rather mystifying. There’s some effort made here, but it does feel rather dull, with a cop-out ending. 3 out of 5.

Article: Expressing the Abstract by Charles Platt

The first page of the Escher article, showing how the magazine is taking advantage of its new quality printing and bigger layout. 

And talking of lectures, here’s an article from the magazine’s newly-employed Art Director (you may also remember him for his prose too!) that examines the work of abstract artist E. M. Escher. This accounts for the eye-catching cover this month, but also explains that – wait for it! – there is more to Escher than meets the eye! (Sorry.) An interesting and enlightening article, that I suspect is here because it fits the wider brief given to the magazine by the Arts Council. 4 out of 5.

The Soft World Sequence by George MacBeth

Poetry. Glass eye in groin. Cucumbers. 2 out of 5.

In the House of the Dead by Roger Zelazny

Lyrical Fantasy from Roger. Strange, gruesome, experimental dream-like images… the sort of thing now expected from the New Wave. An apocalyptic tale of gods and Masters, it is more obtuse than most of the recent material I’ve read of his. Thus, I liked this a little less, but it is still quite good.  4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

Brian Aldiss continues to provide book reviews in this new New Worlds. This month, Brian has two descriptions of non-fiction books about the Hiroshima atomic bomb and a discussion on the consequences of such an event. Douglas Hill reviews Judith Merril’s The Year’s Best S-F, 11th Annual Edition. James Cawthorn (here as “J. Cawthorn”) reviews Samuel R. Delany’s The Einstein Intersection, Roger Zelazny’s Four for Tomorrow, Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle and Robert Bloch’s collection, Pleasant Dreams / Nightmares, amongst others.

I like the more in-depth reviews, with Aldiss clearly the star of the show this month – even if they’re reviews of books I’m not tempted to read or buy myself.

Another change – there’s a little potted history of all of the contributors at the end of the magazine. I liked it – it’s a nice classy touch, and introduces the authors to those who may not know them from previous incarnations.

Summing up the new New Worlds

If I had to predict what I thought the new New Worlds would be like, this issue would be it. A wide-ranging mixture of science articles, articles on art, book reviews, poetry and yes, some science fiction, but a literary science fiction that is of “the now”, rather than something that harkens back to the past.

Comparing this to earlier Moorcock issues and especially the John Carnell era issues of a mere couple of years ago, this is a revelation, although regular readers may feel that this is what we’ve been leading up to.

More importantly, I think that this issue is the closest we’ve got so far to Moorcock’s vision for New Worlds. It is eclectic, abstract, big, bold and experimental. I feel that this issue is designed to show everyone what a science fiction magazine can offer – and, in my opinion, it mainly delivers. Ballard is Ballard, whilst the Disch is designed to shock – and does a pretty good job.

Whilst many of the authors are those we have read before, Moorcock clearly picking favourites to highlight the potential of his magazine, the presentation of a package of diverse material makes it seem new. It feels deliberately determined to prod, cajole and create controversy. You may not like everything here (and I didn’t!), but I think that that is the point. Is it science fiction and fantasy for the masses, though? Time will tell.

For me, Mike has impressed with this issue – now all he has to do is keep up this quality on a regular basis.

Until the next!



 

8 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[June 16, 1967] What's Going On Here? (June 1967 Galactoscope)

Leave a comment


by Victoria Silverwolf

State of Confusion

Two new science fiction novels feature protagonists who get into big trouble without understanding things until the end. They don't know who's fighting them or who's helping them, or why. One book comes from the pen (or typewriter) of a relatively new voice in SF, the other from an old pro.

The Rim-World Legacy, by F. A. Javor


Cover art by Paul Lehr.

F. A. Javor has published about half a dozen stories here and there, sometimes using the first name Frank instead of the initial. My fellow Galactic Journeyers have not been greatly impressed by his work. He's never scored higher than three stars, and sometimes earns two or one. That's not promising, but let's keep an open mind as we take a look at his first novel.

The book starts with the narrator running from an angry mob. He hides himself in a swamp by breathing through a reed. A flashback tells us how he got in this mess.

Our hero is a professional photographer down on his luck. He gets an assignment from a mysterious woman. It seems easy enough; just take pictures of her husband, a magician, performing his act.

Things start to go bad when it turns out that his camera has been rigged to kill the magician. As luck would have it, the assassination attempt fails. Our hero isn't out of the woods yet, however. Somebody takes a shot at him, barely missing.

On the run from the cops as well as the bad guys, the photographer tries to stay alive while figuring out what the whole thing is about. Along the way, a guy he never saw before offers him a bunch of money for information about the boy. The narrator doesn't have a clue what the fellow is talking about. It all has something to do with an incredibly valuable item.

You'll notice that the above synopsis doesn't contain any speculative elements. That's because this is a crime novel disguised as science fiction.

It takes place on a planet at the edge of the galaxy. (Hence the title.) The camera is rigged with a laser. The hero almost gets killed by a ray gun that leaves him with intermittent muscular and neurological effects. The thing that everybody is trying to get ahold of isn't the Maltese Falcon, but a matter duplicator/teleportation gizmo.

As a suspense novel, this is a decent if undistinguished example. The plot moves quickly, with plenty of twists and turns. As science fiction, it's so-so. I'll give the author a few points for considering the social, economic, and philosophical implications of the device that serves as the book's MacGuffin. Worth killing a few hours with, but forgettable.

Three stars.

Bright New Universe, by Jack Williamson


Cover art by John Schoenherr.

Veteran author Jack Williamson hardly needs an introduction to SF fans. Suffice to say that he's been going strong for forty years, and shows no signs of slowing up.

His latest novel takes place in the fairly near future. There's a thriving colony on the Moon, but no mention (unless I missed it) of the rest of the solar system, and certainly not of interstellar travel.

The protagonist breaks off his engagement with his fiancée, instead choosing to take part in a long-term project on the Moon. This upsets the young woman, of course, but it also distresses the hero's family and acquaintances.

He's willing to turn his back on everyone he cares for in order to pursue a dream. A lunar facility is searching for messages from aliens. Our hero believes that contact with extraterrestrials would benefit humanity to an almost unimaginable degree. As a secondary motive, his father, who died before he was born, was killed in an accident on the Moon, and he wants to find out what happened.

His stepfather argues with the protagonist, believing that progress is inherently bad. This scene serves as the philosophical heart of the novel. The stepfather points out the many dystopian works warning against the advance of technology. He argues that an alien species would lead the human race into this kind of dark future.

The book's title appears to be an allusion to Aldous Huxley's famous novel Brave New World, and Huxley is specifically mentioned in the text. Bright New Universe is the antithesis of that work. The hero believes that progress is good, and Williamson is obviously on his side.

(An in-joke appears at this point. Among other books depicting technology as a threat, the stepfather mentions This odd old book about the perfect machines, the humanoids, smothering men with too much perfection. This is obviously a reference to Williamson's own novel The Humanoids.)

On the Moon, the protagonist meets an alluring Eurasian woman. Unfortunately, her mission is to shut down the project as a waste of resources. She is much more than she seems to be, however, and we'll see a lot of her, in different roles, throughout the book.

Complications ensue when the hero finds out what really happened to his father, and winds up accused of murder. Back on Earth, he discovers a secret organization dedicated to fighting off aliens. (This group also happens to be extremely racist. Williamson is stacking the cards a bit here, making the xenophobes completely evil. I suppose the point is to compare two different kinds of prejudice.)

It's probably not giving too much away to reveal that highly advanced aliens have, indeed, been in contact with Earth. The protagonist's struggle to find out why this fact has been kept hidden leads up to a climactic confrontation between the xenophobes and the extraterrestrials.

The author depicts the two sides in this argument for and against progress in black and white, with no shades of gray. The aliens are completely benevolent, their opponents absolutely in the wrong. Although this renders the book's theme somewhat superficial, it's definitely worth reading. In addition to an action/adventure plot, you've got some very interesting aliens, and an enjoyably optimistic view of the future.

Three and one-half stars.


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

The Kill[er\ing] Thing, by Kate Wilhelm

Just to explain the odd title, in the US Doubleday published this as The Killer Thing. However, my UK edition, from Herbert Jenkins SF, changed the title slightly to The Killing Thing. I am guessing they believed it was moderately more grammatically correct, although to my ear both are just as odd phrasing. I suppose the phrase “The Killing Machine” sounds slightly better than "The Killer Robot" but if they were that concerned should they not have called it The Thing That Kills?

All clear as mud? Good, good.

Kate Wilhelm is an author I have enjoyed via her short fiction but have yet to be impressed by her novels. The Clone read as an unnecessary expansion of Thomas’ excellent short and, whilst my incredibly smart colleague Victoria Silverwolf gave it 4 stars, The Nevermore Affair’s description sounded exactly the kind of book I do not enjoy and so I am yet to pick that one up.

But will her third foray into full length works be a marked improvement?

From the beginning there is definitely a sense of strangeness and unknowability to the whole enterprise, giving you more the sense of Moorcock’s New Worlds then Lalli’s Fantastic & Amazing (which formerly published a number of her pieces). We are immediately thrown into the fight against the titular robotic “Thing”, but it is not setup as an action-filled running commentary, but instead concentrating on lush imagery and the thoughts and reactions of those encountering it.

Within the text, I cannot help but read this as an anti-war novel. By this I do not mean the absurdist comedies of recent years, such as Bill The Galactic Hero or Catch-22, but more of a traditional serious piece like Wells’ The War in the Air or All Quiet on The Western Front. Whilst people seem willing to write about the potential horrors of the atom bomb, authors since World War 2 have seemed to shy away from criticizing conventional warfare. I cannot help but think this is due to current attitudes about it. Most new war films seem to portray the whole experience as a jolly jape of fine upstanding fellows and, in spite of some protests, polls still show a majority of the American public support the current US involvement in Vietnam. I feel the general view is summed up by Ian Chesterton in Doctor Who:

Pacifism only works when everybody feels the same

Large crowd of Pro-Vietnam War marchers in New York May 67
Pro-Vietnam War marchers in New York last month

Therefore, it is a pleasant surprise to see a work that is so clearly pacifist. Whether it is in the clever title, the horror of the action, the horrified responses to what they are seeing or the brutal statements of the generals, e.g.:

You have to take lands with your blood, yours and theirs, mixing together in the dirt so that in the ages to come you can’t tell whose blood it is that nourishes the trees and grasses. Then you know it’s your world, Colonel, and not until then.

As a member of the Society of Friends, pacifism is part of my beliefs and understanding of the universe. Given how rare it is to see displayed in fiction (although Dickson did a very good anti-war novel a few years back), I found it warming to read.

However, more there is a significant flaw I found, one that overrides my appreciation for the whole work, that is in the style. It unfortunately engages in one of my biggest pet peeves, that of over-description. Where we will get one line of action or dialogue and then nothing but description for ages, on a loop. For example:

He turned to look about.
The carrier was on tracks that were six feet above ground level… [23 lines of description]…Their heads as well as their faces were clean shaven.
‘Nice isn’t it’ Duncan said, at Trace’s side.
He was tall as Trace, and a twenty-three, three years younger. Both were second lieutenants. His black eyes were shining with the excitement of leave after four months’ running battle with the fleet dispatched by Mellic. ‘You have any plans for the duration?’ he asked.
They had come to a large shopping area, where stores were open to the warm, air and sunshine, and good were spread out to be seen and handled.
‘No,’ Trace said. ‘You?’

It creates a sense to me of a picture book with a complicated painted image and a tiny description without any feeling of motion.

As such, in spite of the ambition, I could not really love this particular thing.

Three stars (four for effort, two for execution)


by Jason Sacks

The Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker, by Otto Binder

No, this novel isn't an adaptation of the wonderful Avengers TV series starring Patrick MacNee and Diana Rigg as the eternally delightful John Steed and Emma Peel. Instead, it's an adaptation of those other Avengers, the Marvel super-hero team which features Captain America and his pals. (By the way, if you are looking for a good novelization of those British Avengers, I can recommend the book below. It's apparently written by MacNee himself!)

Written by longtime comics writer (and science fiction writer) Otto Binder, The Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker had much promise. After all, Binder has written hundreds of comic book stories, including classic work on Captain Marvel as well as long runs at both National and Marvel, plus he's logged time at nearly every comic book company over the last 25 years. Beyond that, Binder has published dozens of prose novels, some under his own name and some under pseudonyms. Most of those books have been quick, fast reads.

Thus, with Binder at the helm, this book seemed like a big win for every Marvelite.

Sadly, though, Earth-Wrecker is pretty dire work. The book begins slowly and never improves from there, delivering a dull, sometimes campy work. This story likely would have been rejected by Stan Lee if it had been submitted for publication in the Avengers comic.

Earth-Wrecker begins as Captain America is leading a press conference to introduce his team of Avengers. The heroes quip and banter to the media in the most boring way (ten-foot tall Goliath complains about hitting his head, for instance) before the Avengers all agree to have a quick warmup battle for the media by playing their "Gladiator Games."

"Gladiator Games" seem like a combination of the X-Men's Danger Room and some arbitrary test of feats of strength. They also are something that never has appeared in any of the 43 issues of Avengers comics written by either Stan Lee or Roy Thomas.  Mr. Binder obviously wanted the readers to get a sense of how the team bickers their way to victory, but the whole sequence falls completely flat. It's action for its own sake, without any consequences involved. Thus there's no reason for a reader to care about what they read.

And in fact, it falls even flatter as one of the Avengers suddenly realizes their teammate Iron Man isn't there with them and begins to wonder why that is the case. No member of the team thought they should try to get in contact with him or were keeping tabs on where Iron Man was. Maybe the team doesn't have telephones or telegraphs to stay in contact with each other?

Regardless, Binder's ramshackle plot has Iron Man flying over the Himalayas for some unknown reason when he's caught in a downdraft. That downdraft sucks our hero down towards Mt. Everest. Never mind that there's no explanation of how Iron Man can breathe in that thin Himalayan air, or even any good reason for the Armored Avenger to be there at all. No, the character just happens to be wandering through Asis so he can advance the novel's plot. And while at the roof of the world, Iron Man just happens to be attacked by a guy who wants to destroy the entire world.

That evil villain is called Karzz the Conqueror. He comes to our times from the 70th century. Karzzd has an extremely covoluted plan to conquer his future Earth by destroying it in the 20th century, and honestly his plans were so weird and complicated it gave me a headache to contemplate them. They verge on camp, on the sort of thing you can imagine the Riddler trying to do on the Batman TV series.

And that's on top of the fact that Marvel already have a a villain from the 70th century called Kang the Conqueror, who's been groomed for years to be the team's greatest enemy. Kang is fun, has a complicated backstory, and would have made comic readers smile. But no smiles are earned here. Nope: for no good reason, Binder decided to create an amazing facsimile of that real Avengers villain instead of having ol' blue-face appear in his novel.

Cynical me wants to say that's because Binder had never read an Avengers comic in his life, and was given a weekend to write this 120-page quickie. That complaint is certainly reflected in the book's pages. It may be why the book's plot seems to ramble and amble aimlessly, or why the Wasp is always described in the most sexist terms, or why Hawkeye is such a jerk, or why the ending seems so rushed and bland.

Oh heck, I could go on and complain more about this book, but perhaps I've said enough to persuade you to just give this one a pass. Roy Thomas and John Buscema are doing excellent comics in the monthly Avengers series (I'm very intrigued by the Red Guardian, an actual hero of sorts from the USSR!) So stick with that book and leave The Avengers Battle the Earth-Wrecker for some other sucker to pick up at your local Kresge's.

1 star (the cover is nice, anyway)



No comments Leave A Comment