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[September 10, 1966] Bon appetit! (this month's Galactoscope)


by Victoria Silverwolf

What's Space Opera, Doc?
with apologies to Chuck Jones

There are many different kinds of science fiction stories. Time travel, future societies, parallel worlds, and so on. When most people think of science fiction, however, they probably imagine tales set in outer space.

I recently came across three new works of SF that might be called space opera. Although all of them feature adventures set, at least partly, on planets orbiting distant stars, they are quite different from one another. For one thing, they vary in length. Let's take a look at them, from shortest to longest.

A Three-Course Literary Meal

First up is a light appetizer from a prolific British author who has already won quite a bit of praise from Galactic Journeyers. His creations are almost always competent, at least, and sometimes outstanding.

A Planet of Your Own, by John Brunner


Cover art by Jack Gaughan.

As you can tell, this is one part of an Ace Double. I almost said half of an Ace Double, but it takes up much less than fifty percent of the book. Well under one hundred pages in length, with plenty of white space between chapters, it's really a novella rather than the Complete Novel bragged about on the cover.

Our protagonist is a woman named Kynance Foy.

Wait a minute. That sounds familiar. Let me dig through some old magazines and figure this out.

I knew it! A Planet of Your Own was previously published in Worlds of If just a few months ago under the title The Long Way to Earth, and reviewed by my esteemed colleague David Levinson. I've taken a look at both versions. If there's any difference at all, it must be very minor.


Cover art by Hector Castellon. It's still not a complete short novel.

Anyway, Kynance is stuck on a planet with no money and few prospects for getting back to Earth. The company that supplies so-called pelts from another world offers her a job that sounds too good to be true. (The extremely expensive pelts are actually vegetable matter that changes color and produces pleasant aromas.)

All she has to do is stay alone on the pelt planet for a year, so the company can maintain its claim. In exchange, she'll get a fortune in cash and a free ride to Earth.

Of course, there's a catch. Nobody has ever been able to avoid violating the company's rules, so they get tossed out without payment, and are expected to die on the uninviting world of pelts. However, a few previous employees have managed to survive, barely managing to feed themselves on the plant life that covers the entire watery planet.

These poor guys make their way to the company's station, where Kynance violates her contract by waving at them. (The evil corporation has very strict rules.) Is she doomed to the same ghastly fate as the other ex-employees?

This is an enjoyable story, maybe not groundbreaking but certainly engaging. The heroine is appealing, and the way she uses her knowledge of the law is clever.

Four stars.

After our palate has been sharpened by this hors d'oeuvre, even if we've tasted it before, let's flip over the book and savor something a little bit more substantial. (Soup or salad?)

The Beasts of Kohl, by John Rackham


Another cover by Jack Gaughan.

Another British writer supplies the larger part of this Ace Double. John Rackham is the pen name of John T. Phillifent. He's mostly been published in British magazines, although he's also shared a couple of Ace Doubles prior to this one. The phrase First Book Publication makes me wonder if this novel appeared in some magazine somewhere, but I can find no evidence for that.

Our hero is a fellow called Rang. (I'll try to avoid You Rang? jokes.) We first meet him hunting a six-legged beast on an eternally stormy planet with three suns. Helping him are an enormous bird of prey and a gigantic canine. This unlikely trio are the title beasts.

Kohl is a huge, sea-dwelling, tentacled alien. He collects species from various planets, including Rang and his friends. Kohl comes to realize that Rang is more than just an animal, so he offers to send him back to Earth, from which he was taken when he was a small child. Rang is happy living with Kohl in an underwater shelter, but Kohl insists that he visit his home world first and then decide whether to stay there instead.

Accompanying Kohl, Rang, the bird, and the dog, is a woman called Rana. (First rule of science fiction nomenclature: Female names have to end with the letter a.) She's one of the beasts of another member of Kohl's species, and is a little wilder than Rang.

Once their spaceship lands in the ocean on Earth, Kohl casually mentions the fact that, due to time dilation at speeds near those of light, about one hundred thousand years have gone by since Rang and Rana were last on Earth. We find out that they're Cro-Magnons, and they're now in the modern world.

(There are a few hints that this is the future, but for the most part it might as well be 1966.)

The two fish-out-of-water and their giant pets get mixed up with a genius who earns large amounts of money for offering his opinions; his secretary, who carries a torch for him; a film maker working on a documentary about the genius; the greedy financial manager of the genius; and some other folks. This part of the novel offers a satiric look at today's society through the eyes of the visitors.

When the manager arranges to have the genius meet a couple of Soviet agents, the book turns into a spy thriller, with Rang in the role of a primitive James Bond. (Rana does her fair share of beating up the bad guys as well.) It all leads up to a car/helicopter/submarine chase, with some vital help from Kohl, who remains in the underwater spaceship.

It's not a bad yarn, if you're willing to put up with the changes in mood from drama to comedy to adventure. The romance between the genius and the secretary is a little corny, with each of them attracted to the other but not saying anything about it until the end. You might agree with Rang and Rana that modern people are badly mixed up in their minds about logic and emotion.

Three stars.

Grab your steak knife and get ready to dig into the main course.

The Solarians, by Norman Spinrad


Anonymous but rather accurate cover art.

Here's the first novel from a new author who has shown up in various magazines for a couple of years. It starts off in true space opera form, with a fleet of human spaceships engaging in battle with a relentless enemy intent on extermination. The humans are outnumbered by the ruthless Duglaari, so the commander of the fleet beats a hasty retreat, abandoning a human colony world to their foes.

The war has been going on for centuries, and the humans are slowly losing. Their only hope is the nearly legendary home world. The solar system has been cut off from the many other human planets for about three hundred years. The inhabitants of humanity's place of origin are supposed to show up and defeat the enemy with a secret weapon.

The commander of the defeated fleet happens to be reporting to his superior officer when these so-called Solarians arrive. Instead of a huge number of warships, only a small vessel appears. It carries three men and three women, which seems hardly enough to turn the tide of battle.

The six Solarians have various psychic powers, from telepathy to the ability to control another's body. This is obviously a great advantage, but it still seems impossible that they would be able to wrest victory from the jaws of defeat.

Their outrageous plan is to travel to the Duglaari home world, and offer terms of surrender. Through sheer force of personality, aided by demonstration of their powers, they manage to convince the officer in charge to send the commander with them as a supposed ambassador from the human worlds.

The commander is suspicious of their motives. He is also uncomfortable about their lifestyle. The half-dozen Solarians live in a group that isn't quite a family, but something like one. One of the women openly offers to have sex with him, although she's in love with one of the men, and the fellow she loves isn't jealous at all. The commander eventually learns to accept this new way of relating to other people during the long trip to the Duglaari planet.

That changes when he thinks the Solarians have double-crossed him, by offering the Duglaari the chance to destroy the rest of humanity if they'll leave the solar system alone. Although the Duglaari reject this offer, the commander imagines himself surrounded by traitors as their spaceship heads back to Earth. Of course, the reader is aware that the Solarians have something up their sleeve.

The combination of classic space opera with sociological science fiction, in the form of the Solarians' way of life, is intriguing. There's a climax that's spectacular in its scale, but you'll probably see it coming. The novel is quite talky, and all the human characters sound about the same. The aliens are interesting. Overall, it's a decent first novel, if not great.

Three stars.


What's For Dessert?

After that hefty triple offering, you're probably in the mood for something a little lighter to clear the palate, although still featuring heroic space adventures.


by Jason Sacks

Thief of Llarn, by Gardner F. Fox

Thief of Llarn is the third or fourth book written by Gardner Fox that I’ve written about for this fanzine, and a pattern has definitely emerged in terms of the man’s work. The fabulous Mr. Fox is just fine at delivering solid, exciting, comic-booky sci-fi filled with traditional action and adventure. Every novel of his that I’ve read is a delightful but shallow page turner, with plenty of swashbuckling Flash Gordon action but little character depth or new wave insights. He’s more like early Heinlein than later Heinlein, so to speak.

Which isn’t a bad thing, and Fox’s latest short novel, Thief of Llarn, fits comfortably in his oeuvre. It stars a larger-than-life lead character who seems like a DC superhero, say someone like Adam Strange. Thief of Llarn features breathtaking escapes and horrific villains and a never-ending journey across a planet and beautiful princesses, yeah yeah yeah I see your head nodding and yep we’ve all seen this sort of thing before but that derivativeness is sort of the point of the work.

Thief of Llarn sat comfortably in my local Woolworth’s next to novels by Rice Burroughs and (ugh) Lin Carter, with Tarzan and Conan and Thongor all pleasant peers to Fox’s protagonist Alan Morgan in their delivery of high adventure and traditional heroism. All swashes are buckled, all heroes are wise, all thieves are rogues, and all planets are explored. This novel gives 40¢ worth of thrills and earned the author a few hundred dollars in payment from publisher Ace Novels, and that’s a transaction which benefited everybody. It's a workmanlike novel, but that's kind of the point.

I enjoyed this book precisely as much as I wanted to. There are exciting time travel elements, thrilling escapes from dark castles, journeys across arctic wastelands, a brilliant guild of thieves and some astonishing cars gliding across the skies. We get strange variations on polar bears, a doddering Cthulhu type creature, a murder fortress and a Disney style castle. We have a hero who doesn’t introspect too much, some fighting companions of his who are of mixed genders, and even an ending that allows our hero to love two women without two-timing either of them. It’s 146 thoroughly solid pages that acts as a delivery mechanism for a story which will delight any fan of traditional planets and sorcery sci-fi.

If Llarn doesn’t have the literary merits of the works of Zelazny or Moorcock or even Leiber, that’s just fine, and those limits should be part of our expectations. Mr. Fox has a side job writing for the rather staid National Comics on series like Adam Strange, Justice League of America, The Spectre, The Atom and Tomahawk.  Alan Morgan could have come right out of any of those series. And on top of his comic book work, Fox also finds time to write four novels per year. Talk about a man chained to his typewriter! Gardner Fox is a working writer delivering excitement at 35¢ a pop – and I’m just fine with that.

3 stars


After Dinner Coffee

Wrapping things up, how about a nice warm cup of java to go with that dessert?


by Gideon Marcus

The Scheme of Things, by Lester Del Rey

Lester Del Rey has been one of the most prolific writers of science fiction over the last thirty years. He started in the pulps, and he's never really stopped (though he had a slow patch a few years ago).

His latest novel is with a quite new publisher: Belmont. They've been prolific since their establishment ~1960, though their line is confined mostly to anthologies and a small stable of authors. I think this is Del Rey's first book with them.

It opens with a bang. Mike Strong is an Assistant Professor of Logic at "Kane University" somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic. At the tail end of a typical class, he is suddenly visited by a vision, transported to another world entirely, though just for a moment.

So begins an increasingly disjointed existence. By turns, he finds himself in the bodies of countless alternate Mikes: the husband of an adulterous actress, fixer for the Mob, leader of a ragtag group of refugees following a nuclear war, and on and on. The only common element is Mike, and the fact that he always returns to "the real world". And to the waiting, patient ear of Paul Bender, a former soldier-of-fortune and fellow faculty member, who serves as Mike's anchor and sounding board.

Is Mike actually plane-trotting? Are his lives connected? And what awaits him if any of his alter egos die?

Scheme is the sort of book that, in the hands of someone less skilled, could have been potboiling mediocrity. Instead, Del Rey makes each of the realities, each Mike, independently interesting. The book almost feels like the other, yet-unwritten, half of The Man in the High Castle. Its threads weave together into an interesting discourse on the difference between consciousness and awareness. Plus, it's a riveting, quick read.

I don't know if it'll be a candidate for next year's Hugo, but it certainly is a feather in the growing Belmont cap.

Four stars.






[October 24, 1965] "What time is it?" (October Galactoscope)


By Jason Sacks

Well, so far this has been a great month. Last week saw the end of a dynamite World Series, in which Sandy Koufax, the greatest pitcher of his generation, showed himself to be one of the greatest Jews of his generation as well. It was tremendously meaningful to my family that Sandy refused to start Game 1 for the Dodgers against the Minnesota Twins since the day coincided with our holy day of Yom Kippur.

As Sandy said, "I've taken Yom Kippur off every year for the last 10 years. It was just something I've always done out of respect."

As if that wasn't good enough, Koufax dominated games 5 and 7 of the series, with his electric fastball mowing down batters in a pair of crucial shutout victories. The Twins played well, and  were outstanding American League champs – Tony Oliva is a monster – but it seems the Koufax gave the Dodgers the edge, and turned the '65 Series into a classic.

At the movie theatre, my wife and I caught The Bedford Incident last week at our favorite theatre here in north Seattle. If you haven't had a chance to see it yet, the film is well worth a night out — if, that is, you can handle an intense and sometimes bleak drama.


Richard Widmark turns in a powerful performance as a zealous battleship captain on the search for an elusive Soviet nuclear submarine. Also featuring Sidney Poitier and Martin Balsam, this black and white drama treads similar ground to last year's thrilling Fail Safe and ends in a similarly dramatic way.

The Hunter Out of Time, by Gardner F. Fox

If it seems like I'm dragging my feet a bit before talking about my entry for this month's Galactoscope, well, you're right. Gardner Fox's new novel is the epitome of mediocrity, a book that will give you 40¢ worth of excitement but not a whole lot more. The fantastic Mr. Fox is a prolific author who churns out more books and comic book stories than nearly anyone else living. Sometimes that causes him to create some delightful work. Other times it seems like he is just delivering words just to deliver him a paycheck. There's nothing necessarily wrong with that – I'm sure the man has a mortgage to pay – but it also represents a lost opportunity.

See, this book starts out with one of the most striking first lines I can remember.

I saw myself dying on the other side of the street.

The first page builds on that momentum, with the protagonist describing his body as "blood oozed over my fingers where I held that awesome wound."

I mean, seriously, how can you read a first page like that without feeling like you have to read more? Mr. Fox is an old pro and he clearly knows some classic tricks. As I read that book, I leaned back, took a deep breath, and readied myself for a page-turning thrill ride.


Cover by Gray Morrow

But, dear reader, I'm sorry to inform you that all the best writing in The Hunter Out of Time happens on the first couple of pages. It soon turns out that the man who falls to Earth is a time traveler from the far, far future who traveled back through a supposedly impregnable barrier to steal the man's identity. The time traveler is named Chan Dahl and soon other time-displaced men come to our time, confuse our guy, Kevin Cord for Dahl, and that unleashes the most obvious and cliched adventure you can imagine.

There's little in The Hunter Out of Time you haven't seen before. Fox gives us fantastic devices, headspinning time travel with seemingly arbitrary rules, and the obligatory beautiful, weak babe from the future.  Of course Cord uses his native 20th century skills to overcome his opposition, of course Cord and the woman fall in love, and of course Fox leaves room for a sequel if somehow people want to read more of this frightfully ordinary pap.

I could go on and on about this book, but hey, it costs 40¢, it'll take you a couple hours to read, and it's got a pretty nice cover by artist Gray Morrow. I'd rather spend my time watching young Warren Beatty in Mickey One in the theatres, but you won't hate this book and it's pleasing enough entertainment for a rainy Seattle Sunday.

2 stars.


Solid Fuel


by John Boston

The rising star John Brunner has produced ambitious work such as The Whole Man and the upcoming The Squares of the City, both from Ballantine in the US, and a raft (or flotilla) of unpretentious upscale-pulp adventures for Ace Books. Some of the best of the latter were mined from the UK magazines edited by John Carnell.


by Jacks

But there’s a lot more. Brunner has been one of the mainstays of the UK magazines for a decade, but much of his best magazine work has not been reprinted because it’s too short for separate book publication and too long to fit in the usual anthologies or collections. The UK publisher Mayflower-Dell, previously distinguished by its unsuccessful attempt to bring Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure to the British public, remedies a bit of this omission with Now Then, a collection of three novellas, two from the Carnell magazines and the other, his first professional sale, from Astounding in 1953.

Some Lapse of Time

The book opens with the energetically clever and creepy Some Lapse of Time, from Science Fantasy #57 (February 1963). Dr. Max Harrow is having a bad dream of a group of starving people living in ruins, one of whom is holding a human finger bone in his hand. He wakes and there is someone at his door: the police, because a tramp has collapsed in his garage. The tramp proves to be suffering a rare disease (heterochylia, an inability to metabolize fats, which become lethal) that Harrow is uniquely qualified to recognize, his infant son having died of it only recently, and which should have made it impossible for the tramp to survive to adulthood. The tramp also has clamped in his hand a human finger bone—the same bone, the end of the left middle finger, as in Harrow’s dream.

Unintelligible to the hospital staff, the tramp proves when examined by a philologist to speak a badly distorted version of English, like one might expect a primitive and isolated group to use. Meanwhile, Harrow’s marriage is blowing up under the emotional stress caused by his son’s death and his own preoccupation. When his wife slams the car door in his face, she catches his hand in the door and severs the end of his left middle finger, which falls down a gutter. Meanwhile, the tramp is sent for a head x-ray, but he turns out to be so radioactive that not only do the films turn out unusable but he has to be put in strict isolation.

Brunner brings all these elements to a thoroughly grotesque resolution—it doesn’t entirely work, but is a grimly ingenious nice try. Others apparently think so too; it is rumored that a dramatization will be broadcast later this year in the BBC’s Out of the Unknown TV series. Four stars.

Imprint of Chaos

Next up is Imprint of Chaos, also from Science Fantasy (#42, August 1960), one of a number of outright fantasies Brunner contributed to that underrated magazine. This one introduces us to a character mainly called “the traveler,” who we are repeatedly told has “many names but one nature,” unlike the rest of us who I suppose contain multitudes.

The traveler has been appointed (by whom, or Whom, or What is not explained) as a sort of metaphysical supervisor over part of the universe, charged with ensuring the primacy of order over chaos. He is on his way to Ryovora, a formerly sensible town where they have now decided they need a god.

So the traveler nips out to our Earth and snatches the unsuspecting Bernard Brown from a hike in the wood, tells him he’s unlikely to find his way home, but gives him directions to Ryovora. There, to his discomfiture, Brown is welcomed as a god, and when the next city over hears about it and sends over their god, Brown sends it packing in terror. Then the Ryovorans say they could have done it themselves (though they didn’t), and excuse Mr. Brown, after a final scene where he and the traveler bruit the futility and undesirability of magic.

A fantasy writer bad-mouthing magic may seem incongruous, but this rationalist in spite of himself really hates it, and comes not to praise magic but to bury it, though only after enough colorful magical episodes to entertain the rubes. Here the tension is more extreme than usual. His earlier fantasies mostly featured incursions of magic into the world of ordinary salt-of-the-earth types. Here, the entire setting is exotically magical, and the story is told in the fey and pompous cadences of high fantasy.

For example, from a conclave of the necromantic elite of Ryovora: “The Margrave nodded and made a comforting gesture in the air. He said, ‘But this cannot be the whole story. I move that we—here, now, in full council—ask Him Who Must Know.’” Brunner walks the edge of parody at times (“Tyllwin [a particularly powerful magician] chuckled, a scratching noise, and the flowers on the whole of one tree turned to fruit and rotted where they hung.”). But the story is clever and entertaining and merits its three stars, towards the high end.

Thou Good and Faithful

Thou Good and Faithful is older; as mentioned, it is the first story Brunner sold to an SF magazine—and it was featured on the cover of the top-of-the-market Astounding (March 1953 issue). Moreover, the readers voted it best in the issue, and it was quickly picked up by Andre Norton for her pretty respectable YA anthology Space Pioneers. Not a bad start for an 18-year-old! Though Brunner has had some second thoughts about showing us his juvenilia; the acknowledgements note it appeared in the magazine “in a somewhat different form.” I haven’t compared the two texts, though there’s clearly some updating; in this version Brunner refers to something as “maser-tight,” and masers were barely invented when this story was first published.

The story is for most of its length a bog-standard though well-turned rendition of a basic plot: find a planet, there’s a mystery, what’s going on, are we scared? The mystery is an idyllic Earth-type planet inhabited only by robots, who presumably didn’t make themselves; what happened to the makers? The final revelation is partly in the direction of, say, Clarke’s Childhood’s End, and partly in the one suggested by the story’s title, so in the end it’s much more high-minded than the puzzle story it starts out as. This is all older news nowadays than it was in 1953, but it too merits a high three stars.

Summing Up

Now Then is a solid representation of the mid-length work of this very readable and thoughtful writer, and there’s enough in the Carnell back files for several more worthwhile volumes of Brunner novellas.


Two by Two


by Gideon Marcus

The Journey has made a commitment to review every piece of science fiction released in a year (or die trying). In pursuit of this goal, I've generally tried to finish every book I've started, and if unable to, I simply don't write about it.

It occurs to me, however, that the inability to finish a book is worth reporting on, too. And so, here are reports on two of this summer's lesser lights:

Arm of the Starfish, by Madeleine L'Engle

The latest from Madeline L'Engle, author of the sublime A Wrinkle in Time, starts promisingly. Adam Eddington is a freshman biology minor tapped to work with a Dr. O'Keefe on the Atlantic island of Gaia off the coast of Portugal. O'Keefe (a grown up Calvin, from Wrinkle) is working with starfish, zeroing in on an immortality treatment. Just prior to Adam's departure from Kennedy Airport, he runs across the beautiful young daughter of an industrialist, Kali, who warns Adam to stay away from the sinister-looking Canon Tallis, who is chaperoning the O'Keefes' precocious daughter, Poly.

Adam finds himself embroiled in international intrigue, not knowing who to trust. This is exciting at first, but a drag as things go on. Gone is the quietly lyrical prose of Wrinkle, replaced by a deliberately juvenile style leached of color. Events happen, one after another, but they are both difficult to keep track of and largely uninteresting. By the time Adam made it to Gaia, about halfway through the book, I found myself struggling to complete a page.

Life's too short. I gave up.

Quest Crosstime, by Andre Norton


Cover by Yukio Tashiro

Andre Norton has come out with the long-awaited sequel to her parallel universe adventure, The Crossroads of Time, starring Blake Walker. The universe Walker lives in is a bit like that of Laumer's Imperium series and Piper's Paratime stories: there's one Earth that has mastered the art of crossing timelines, and it has built an empire across these alternate Earths.

On Vroom, the imperial timetrack, there had been a devastating war that killed most of the female population, making them particularly precious. Also, mutation has made psionic ability the rule rather than the exception. The timeline is ruled by an oligarchy of 100 meritocrats.

At the start of Crosstime, Walker is dispatched to assist Marfy, whose twin sister, Marva, has been lost amongst the timeless — and all signs point to a kidnapping. Of course, the allure of all parallel universe books is the exploration of what-if, and so Walker and Marfy's trek spans a dead Earth where life never arose, a strange saurian Earth where sentient turtles and lizardmen rule, and ultimately, an interesting timeline in which Richard III won the battle of Bosworth Field while Cortez lost the battle of Tenochtitlan. By the Mid-20th Century, there is a Cold War between Britain and the Aztec Empire along a militarized Mississippi river. It is to this world that Marfy and her abductors are tracked, and it turns out that the kidnapping is part of a plot to topple Vroom's Ancien Regime.

True to form as of late, Norton sets up some genuinely interesting background, but the characters are as flat as the pages they appear on. This time, I made it through two thirds of the book, partly on momentum from the first book in the series, which I rather enjoyed. In the end, however, disinterest won out.

Call it two stars for both books.



Don't miss the next exciting musical guest episode of The Journey Show, October 24 at 1PM Pacific!




[December 11, 1964] December Galactoscope


by Cora Buhlert

The season of giving is upon us. For women, perfumes like the classic scent Tosca are the most popular gifts, while men tend to find ties, socks and underwear under the tree.

Tosca ad

Personally, I think that books are the best gifts. And so I gave myself Margaret St. Clair's latest, when I spotted it in the spinner rack at my local import bookstore, since I enjoyed last year's Sign of the Labrys a lot. Even better, this book is an Ace Double, which means I get two new tales for the price of one. Or rather, I get six, because one half is a collection of five short stories.

Message from the Eocene by Margaret St. Clair (Ace Double M-105)

Message from the Eocene by Margaret St. Clair

An alien in trouble

The first half is a brand-new science fiction novel called Message from the Eocene. The protagonist, a being named Tharg, is tasked with transporting a cosmic guidebook across hostile territory. The reader learns in the first paragraph that Tharg is not human, because he has a triple heartbeat. Tharg lives on Earth, but the Earth of billions of years ago (long before the Eocene, so the title is a misnomer), a world of volcanos and methane snow, devoid of oxygen. Tharg "breathes" via microorganisms inside his body that break down metallic oxides to oxygenate his blood and has extrasensory perception.

Tharg is in trouble, for a mysterious enemy is trying to thwart his mission. This enemy turns out to be the Vaeaa, a legendary alien race, who are believed to have deposited Tharg's people on Earth in the first place.

Tharg is taken is taken prisoner, but not before he manages to hide the book inside a volcano (it has a protective casing). Under interrogation, Tharg has an out-of-body experience. As a result, his consciousness remains, when his body dies during an escape attempt, to witness the extinction of both his people and the Vaeaa, though the Vaeaa manage to set up a projector on Pluto to keep out further cosmic guidebooks first.

Over billions of years, Tharg's spirit observes life arise and evolve on Earth. Tharg realises that the book might help with his condition, but he has no way to retrieve it. So Tharg decides to ask the Earth's new inhabitants for help. But how to make himself known, considering that Tharg is a bodyless spirit being and never was human in the first place?

Misadventures and miscommunications

Margaret St. Clair
Margaret St. Clair

The rest of the novel chronicles Tharg's attempts to communicate. Tharg's first attempt targets the Proctors, a Quaker family in 19th century England. This goes disastrously wrong, because not only do the Proctors come to believe that their house is haunted – no, Tharg also gets trapped in the house. Taken on its own, the Proctor segment feels like a Victorian ghost story, except that the ghost is a desperate disembodied alien. The insights into the lives of 19th century Quakers are fascinating, but then Margaret St. Clair is a member of the Society of Friends.

Tharg's next attempt targets Denise, who lives with her husband Pierre in a French colony in the South Pacific. Denise has extrasensory perception, making her the ideal subject. But once again Tharg only succeeds in giving Denise nightmares and causing hauntings in the mine Pierre oversees. Worse, the superstitious miners blame Denise for the hauntings. They kidnap the couple and give Denise hallucinogenic herbs to increase her abilities. Now Denise is able to communicate with Tharg long enough to realise that he wants them to recover the book.

So Pierre uses his mining job to blast a hole into a mountain at the very spot where Denise insists the book is hidden. After some trouble with Vietnamese workers – an incident St. Clair uses to explain that oppression during colonial times has left the Vietnamese angry and frustrated, which leads to violence, a lesson that is highly relevant to the situation in Vietnam today – Denise and Pierre manage to retrieve the book. Alas, once they open the protective casing, the book bursts into flame and is destroyed.

Tharg now sets his sights on the projector the Vaeaa installed on Pluto to keep future cosmic guidebooks away from Earth. For if another book were to arrive, Tharg might finally be able to escape his condition.

Sacrifices and success

There is another time jump to 1974, when strange things happen. An experiment detects a purely theoretical particle, a sea captain sees a mermaid, Canadians dance under the Northern lights and a Tibetan monk has a vision. Tharg views these events as signs that another guidebook is on the way. But due to the  projector on Pluto, it will never reach Earth.

In order to shut down the projector long enough to let the book through, Tharg has to dissolve himself in the collective consciousness of humanity, which will also mean his annihilation. So Tharg sacrifices himself and the book is picked up by an expedition to Venus. The novel ends with Tharg waking on the astral plane in a replica of his original body, just as the US-Soviet crew of the spaceship to Venus is about to open the book.

This is a strange and disjointed, but fascinating novel. Though Tharg is one of the rare truly alien aliens of science fiction, he is nonetheless a likeable protagonist and the reader sympathises with his plight. Tharg is also an unlikely messiah, sacrificing himself to assure the future of humanity.

Humanity being uplifted and our minds and bodies evolving is a common theme in our genre. However, Message from the Eocene offers a very different variation on this theme compared to what you'd find in the pages of Analog, even if psychic abilities are involved. The enlightenment offered by the book is reminiscent of both Buddhism and various occult traditions, while its arrival alludes to the so-called Age of Aquarius that astrologers believe will arrive soon.

In a genre that is still all too often peopled solely by white American men, the humans Tharg encounters are of all genders, races, nationalities and religions and all are portrayed sympathetically. For if the alien Tharg does not discriminate based on superficial criteria, then maybe neither should we. It is also notable that even before they receive the book, St. Clair's near future Earth is a more peaceful place than our world, where China has withdrawn from Tibet and the US and USSR cooperate in space.

Message from the Eocene is a story of failed communication, but also a story of evolution and enlightenment and overcoming one's limitations. Given the state of the world today, this may be just the message humanity needs.

Four and a half stars.

Three World of Futurity by Margaret St. Clair

Three Worlds and five stories

Three Worlds of Futurity, the other half of this Ace Double, is a collection of five short stories originally published between 1949 and 1962. The three worlds in question are Mars, Venus and Earth.

Thrilling Wonder Stories December 1950In "The Everlasting Food", Earthman Richard Dekker finds that his Venusian wife Issa has changed after lifesaving surgery. One night, Issa announces that she is immortal now, that she no longer needs to eat and that energy sustains her. Soon thereafter, she leaves, taking their young son with her. Richard takes off after her to get his son back, Issa's human foster sister Megan in tow. After many trials and tribulations, they finally find Issa – only for Richard to lose his wife and son for good. But while Richard is heartbroken, he has also fallen in love with Megan.

"The Everlasting Food" is a curious mix of domestic science fiction in the vein of Zenna Henderson and Mildred Clingerman and planetary adventure in the vein of Leigh Brackett, and never quite gels. I did like Megan, who is described as dark-skinned, by the way, but Issa is hard to connect to and Richard, though well meaning, falls for Megan a little too quickly. Furthermore, the villain feels like an afterthought who comes out of nowhere.

Startling Stories July 1949"Idris' Pig" opens on a spaceship to Mars. George Baker is the ship's resident psychologist. His cousin Bill is a courier and passenger aboard the same ship. When Bill falls ill, it's up to George to deliver the object Bill was supposed to deliver, a blue-skinned sacred pig. However, Bill can only give George very vague instructions about where to deliver the pig and so the pig is promptly stolen. And so George has to retrieve it with the help of Blixa, a young Martian woman. As a result, George gets mixed up with drug dealers and Martian cults, involved in an interplanetary incident and lands in jail. He also completely forgets about the woman he has been trying very hard not to think about and falls in love with Blixa.

This is an utterly charming story, a science fiction screwball comedy reminiscent of Howard Hawks' Bringing Up Baby. A hidden gem and true delight.

Fantastic Universe July 1954"The Rages" is set in an overmedicated Earth of the future. Harvey has a perfect life and a perfect, though sexless marriage. However, he has a problem because his monthly ration of euphoria pills has run out. And without euphoria pills, Harvey fears the oncoming of the rages, attacks of uncontrollable anger, which eventually lead to a final rage from which one never emerges. The story follows Harvey through his day as he meets several people and tries to get more pills. Gradually, it dawns upon both Harvey and the reader that the pills may be causing the very rages they are supposed to suppress. The story ends with Harvey throwing all of his and his wife's pills away.

This is a dystopian tale in the vein of Brave New World and Fahrenheit 541. The future world St. Clair has built is fascinating, if horrifying, and I would have liked to see more of it. However, Harvey is a thoroughly unlikeable character, who almost rapes two women in the course of a single novelette. Maybe Harvey could have rediscovered his messy humanity without resorting to sexual violence.

Galaxy October 1962"Roberta" is the shortest and most recent story, first published in Galaxy in October 1962, reviewed by our editor Gideon Marcus here. Roberta is a confused young woman with the unfortunate tendency to kill men. Robert is the phantom who won't leave her alone. Eventually, it is revealed that Roberta had a sex change operation and that "Robert" represents her former self, as do the men she kills.

Transsexualism is a subject that science fiction almost never addresses, even though our genre is ideal for it. After all, there are transsexuals living in our world right now and science offers possibilities to make it much easier for them to live the lives they want to. So I applaud Margaret St. Clair for tackling what is sadly still a taboo topic (and for having her heroine utter another taboo word, "abortion"), though I am troubled that science fiction's only transsexual heroine (so far) is also a multiple murderer.

Weird Tales September 1952In "The Island of the Hands", Dirk dreams about his wife Joan who died in a plane crash at sea. He hires a plane to check out the coordinates from his dream and crashes on an invisible island. Dirk finds Joan's plane and a dead body and also meets Miranda, a young woman who suspiciously resembles Joan. He is on the Island of the Hands, Miranda informs them, where everybody can shape their heart's desire from mythical mist. Dirk tries to shape Joan, but fails. He spends the night with Miranda, who confesses that Joan is still alive, but trapped in the mist. Dirk goes after her and rescues Joan, only to learn that there is a very good reason why Miranda looks so much like an idealised version of Joan.

It's no surprise that this story was first published in Weird Tales, since it has the otherworldly quality typical for that magazine. "The Island of the Hands" reminded me of the 1948 Leigh Brackett story "The Moon That Vanished", where another heartbroken widower finds himself faced with a magical mist that shapes one's heart's desire.

All in all, this is an excellent collection. Not every story is perfect (though "Idris' Pig" pretty much is), but they are all fascinating and make me want to read more of Margaret St. Clair's work.

Four stars for the collection.


[But wait!  There's more!]



by Gideon Marcus

False Finishes

After such a remarkable pair of books, I hate to sully this edition with less than stellar reviews.  But the year is almost up, and there are a lot of books to get through.  So, here is a trio of novels that start promisingly and then fizzle out. 

The Greks Bring Gifts, by Murray Leinster

If you can get past the punny title, Gifts grabs your interest from the first.  In the near future, the humanoid Greks land in a miles-long spaceship.  They were just sailing by, training a class of Aladarian engineers, and thought they'd pop in to give humanity a myriad of technological gifts.  The aliens are welcomed with riotous joy — after all, soon no one will have to work more than one day a week, and all the comforts of the world will be evenly distributed. 

But one fellow, Jim Hackett, is suspicious.  Despite being a brilliant young physicist, he was rejected as a candidate to learn Grek science after failing to comprehend it.  Was he just not bright enough?  Or were the Greks feeding us gobbledegook to keep us ignorant?  And then, why did the Greks abruptly leave after six months, just as desire for the fruits of their wondrous technology was peaking, but the ability to sate said desire was lacking?  Finally, after the Grek ship had left, why did an archaeologist party find the bones of Aldorians in the ship's waste ejecta?  And worse yet, those of humans?

So Hackett and his fiancee, the capable Dr. Lucy Thale, work together to reverse engineer the Grek technology so that, when they return to a world whose populace is fairly begging for them to come back, Earth can stand against them and provide for its own.

What begins as a fascinating mystery quickly proves overlong.  Leinster is much better with short stories, before his Hemmingway-esque style can wear thin.  The endless repetition of certain phrases and epithets brings to mind the devices Homer used to make The Illiad easier to recite from memory, but they don't do a reader any favors.  As for characterization, Leinster might as well have named the characters A, B, and C for all the color they possess.  A shorter story would have made that issue stand out less.

Anyway, it's an interesting storyline; it would make a good movie, but as is, it's a mediocre novel.  Three stars.

Arsenal of Miracles (ACE Double F-299), by Gardner F. Fox

From the notable pen of comics writer and, now, SF author Gardner Fox, we have a brand new ACE novel.  And this one isn't a short 120-pager.  No, this time we've got 157 pages devoted to the adventures of Bran Magannon, formerly an Admiral of a Terran space fleet, vanquisher of the invading Lyanir, and now a discredited exile, wandering across the known and unknown galaxy.  Arsenal starts off beautifully, like a space age Fritz Leiber fantasy.  A nearly penniless Bran arrives on the desolate world of Makkador to make traveling funds through gambling.  There, he throws dice against, and loses to, the lovely Peganna, queen of the Lyanir.  And then we learn Bran's tragic past: how he divined how to defeat the seemingly invincible Lyanir ships; how he negotiated for the Lyanir to be given a sanctuary world within the Terran Cluster of stars.  How Bran was betrayed by an ambitious subordinate, who sabotaged the talks, discredited Bran, and condemned the Lyanir to inhabit a radioactive wasteland of a planet.

But now Bran has an ace up his sleeve — he has discovered the ancient portal network of the Crenn Lir, a precursor race that once inhabited countless worlds.  If Bran and Peganna can find the Crenn Lir arsenal before they are caught by Terran and Lyranir agents, they might be able to negotiate with the Terrans as equals and secure a sanctuary for the weary aliens.

I tore through the first third of this book, but things slowed halfway through.  I grew irritated that there was exactly one female character in the book, though I did appreciate the natural and loving relationship Peganna and Bran shared.  What promises to be a galaxy-trotting adventure with big scope and ideas ends up a rather conventional story on a very few settings.  Things pick up a bit in the final third, but I found myself comparing the endeavor unfavorably to Terry Carr's Warlord of Kor, a somewhat similarly themed Ace novel from last year.

Three and a half stars.

Endless Shadow (ACE Double F-299), by John Brunner

With the Fox taking up so much space in the Ace Double, the second title must needs be short.  Luckily, John Brunner's Bridge to Azazel, which came out in February's issue of Amazing, fit nicely.  Both lengthwise and thematically: Endless Shadow also features teleportation across the stars, in this case involving a Terra reestablishing contact with farflung space colonies.

The general consensus among the Journey's various readers is that this was a premise with a lot of potential, but that Brunner failed to deliver satisfactorily.  Ratings ranged from two to three and a half stars.  Call it an even three.

Books to Come

These days, there are almost more books coming out than a fellow (or even a band of fellows) can read!  So, to make sure we cover all of the important books of 1964, there will be a second Galactoscope in a couple of days.  May they be more akin to the stellar St. Clairs than the disappointing Leinster/Fox/Brunner.



[Holiday season is upon us, and Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), containing some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age, makes a great gift! Think of it as a gift to friends…and the Journey!


[June 18, 1964] Bad Comic Book Style and Good Comic Book Style (Galactoscope)

[This month's Galactoscope features a trio of books by two authors filled with riproar and comic-style adventure. We think you'll enjoy this foray into the past…and future!]

The Valley of Creation, by Edmond Hamilton


by Cora Buhlert

The Valley of Creation by Edmond Hamilton

Captain Future was the first science fiction I encountered, therefore I will always have a soft spot for Edmond Hamilton. And so I was happy to find a new Edmond Hamilton novel in the spinner rack of my local import bookshop, even if The Valley of Creation is quite different from Captain Future. The latter is space opera, the former is an earthbound adventure in the style of the "lost world" stories that were popular around the turn of the century.

The Valley of Creation follows the adventures of Eric Nelson, an American soldier of fortune (as he euphemistically calls himself) who got stuck in Asia after the Korean war. Together with a motley multinational crew of mercenaries – a Dutchman, an Englishman, a Chinaman and a fellow American (and a black man, at that) – Eric is fighting in the Chinese civil war, offering his guns and skills to whatever local warlord is willing to pay.

But Eric and his merry band of mercenaries are in a tight spot. Their latest employer is dead, the People's Liberation Army is encroaching and the mercenaries are about to find themselves on the wrong end of a firing squad. Luckily, a man called Shan Kar shows up and hires them to fight his private little war in a hidden valley in the Himalayas, far from the reach of the PLA. A hidden valley where platinum worth millions is just lying around for the taking.

If you're reminded of James Hilton's novel Lost Horizon at this point, you're not alone. Alas, L'Lan, the titular valley, is no peaceful Shangri-La. It is a troubled paradise, where the conflict between Shan Kar's faction, the Humanites, and their enemies, the so-called Brotherhood, is about the escalate.

You'd think that a group calling themselves the Humanites would be the good guys. But you'd be wrong, because the Humanites are bigoted supremacists. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, is committed to equality between humans and non-humans. Non-humans in this case meaning sentient and intelligent animals, who happen to be telepathic as well.

Shan Kar hopes that the mercenaries and their modern weapons will turn the tide in his favour. But their attempt to infiltrate the Brotherhood's stronghold quickly goes wrong. Eric is taken prisoner and finds himself at the mercy of the Brotherhood. As "punishment", he has his consciousness transferred into the body of a wolf via quasi-magic technology.

Forced to literally walk in the paws of his enemy, Eric realises that he is fighting on the wrong side and vows to aid the Brotherhood against his former comrades. And just in time, too, because – quelle surprise – Eric's surviving mercenary pals reveal themselves to be murderous thugs willing to do anything in order to get to the platinum.

Startling Stories July 1948The Valley of Creation is an action-packed science fantasy adventure that feels like a throwback to the pulp era, probably because it is. For The Valley of Creation is an expanded version of a story first published in the July 1948 issue of Startling Stories. This has caused some anachronisms, e.g. at one point Eric remarks that he has been in Asia for ten years, which would set the story in 1960. However, the Chinese Civil War and the annexation of Tibet and the East Turkestan Republic, which are the reason why Eric and his comrades are in the Himalayas in the first place, happened in 1949 and 1950, i.e. shortly after the story was originally published.

The chapters that Eric spends in the body of a wolf are the highlight of the novel, for Hamilton makes a serious attempt to describe what the world would look, smell and feel like through the senses of a wolf. The other animals are characters in their own right as well, though the Brotherhood's commitment to equality between man and beast is undermined by the fact that their hereditary leader is human. But then, making the leader anything other than human would have been problematic, considering the plot requires Eric to fall in love with his beautiful daughter.

One can view the novel as a plea for animal rights. Or one can view it as an analogy for racial equality – after all, Eric muses at one point that equality between humans and animals seems as natural in L'Lan as equality between different races is in the outer world. That's an optimistic statement to make even in 1964, let alone in 1948. Furthermore, the Chinese mercenary Li Kin is a wholly sympathetic character, in a genre that is still all too often suffused with yellow peril rhetoric. Another member of the mercenary band is a black man, but unfortunately he is the main villain.

An entertaining novel that's well worth reading, even if it belongs to an earlier era of science fiction. 3.5 stars.

Outside the Universe, by Edmond Hamilton


by Jason Sacks

As the Journey’s resident comic book fan, I try to broaden my understanding of the industry’s creators by checking out some of their text-only work. This month brought two novels by prominent comic book writers. The contrast between the two works is strong.

First up is Outside the Universe by Edmond Hamilton, an Ace reprint of Hamilton’s final Galactic Patrol book. First published in a quartet of 1929 Weird Tales pulps, alongside work by Robert E. Howard, August Derleth, and — I kid you not — Lois Lane — Hamilton’s epic tale of titanic space battles, courageous heroes and intergalactic alliances is a breathless, often overwhelming weird tale.

Written in a long-winded style which reads like Hamilton was desperate to allow the words to tumble from his typewriter lest they find a stray period, Outside the Universe is a wild and wooly journey which involves a million-ship battle between a mighty galactic empire and evil space serpents. Battles are enormous and seemingly endless, and space seems filled with astonishing dangers which imperil every space ship which passes through them. Our heroes and villains fight their ways through bizarre radiation clouds and unexplained hot areas, stars arranged geometrically and people transformed into statues.

It’s a humdinger of a tale, a rousing yarn which throws the reader from cliffhanger to cliffhanger with scarcely a moment to catch their breath — unless they stop to diagram one of the hundreds (thousands?) of 50-word sentences in this book. Hamilton seems to have never internalized the idea of varying sentence length to keep his readers engaged. Perhaps this is an artifact of 1920s pulp writing, but I found I couldn’t keep focus on this book for too long without desperately getting impatient for a quick breather from all Hamilton’s verbosity.

Hamilton moved to comics, where he often wrote for his friend Mort Weisinger on the Superman family of comics. Notably, Hamilton's run on the "Legion of Super-Heroes" tales in Adventure Comics is well known for its breakneck pace — “a new planet every page”, as one critical wag labeled it — and complete paucity of characterization. Apparently Mr. Hamilton changed little as he aged, as this early work reflects those tendencies. Outside the Universe is a hoot but this story has no teeth.

Rating: 2.5

Escape Across the Cosmos, by Gardner Fox

Meanwhile, Gardner Fox has released his newest through the Paperback Library. Escape Across the Cosmos reads at times like a print version of Mr. Fox’s comic book work. In this volume, he delivers a novel about a kind of extradimensional space superhero.

That’s appropriate for the man who has written many classic tales for National Comics’ heroes line, including the memorable “Flash of Two Worlds”, in which the super speedster met his cross-dimensional counterpart. In fact, rumor has it that Fox will be assuming the reins on Batman later this year, taking over the moribund Batman and Detective Comics titles from a team which includes Edmond Hamilton.

Escape Across the Cosmos is the tale of Kael Carrack, a war-ravaged man whose body has been rebuilt to be nearly indestructible. His silicon skin, cybernetic strength and superhuman abilities are urgently needed to defeat the dreaded Ylth’yl, a Lovecraftian monster from another dimension who has killed nearly everybody of importance in his dimension and who hungers to transport his evil to our dimension. In fact, as the story unfolds, it seems Kael has a special connection to the evil creature, one which may save — or doom — our dimension.

In contrast with the Hamilton novel, Fox doesn’t squander characterization for adventure. He takes pains to show readers Kael’s confusion and allows us to become willing and excited participants in the hero’s journey to self-realization. As he and we do so, Kael finds true romance with a human woman, grows into a more perfected version of himself. It will betray any surprises to say that Kael begins to fulfill his destiny by the end of this short book.

This short novel is a clever, quick read. It shines in comparison with Hamilton’s overcrowded prose, as Fox takes pains to allow the reader to move ahead at his own pace. I would have loved to see more depth on the hero and his universe, but perhaps we’ll learn more about him at some point in the future when Fox delivers a sequel in one form or another.

Escape Across the Cosmos reads like an origin story for a new superhero, and for all I know Kael may appear in the pages of National’s Showcase try-out book in the next several months. Maybe Kael will be their next great sci-fi hero. I would certainly welcome him in my comics stack each month.


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]