Tag Archives: mack reynolds

[December 31, 1966] Barriers to quality (January 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

An argument for free trade?

Yesterday, Europe got a bit freer.  The nations of Austria, Denmark, Norway, Portugal, Sweden, Switzerland, and the United Kingdom–along with associate member, Finland, the constituents of the Europen Free Trade Association–removed all tarrifs on industrial goods sold between them.  These countries comprise Europe's "Outer Seven", in contrast to the "Inner Six" of the European Economic Community.  With this move, EFTA's economies may get a competitive boost against the traditional European powerhouses (France, West Germany, Benelux, and Italy).

The SF mag Analog is better suited to the EEC than EFTA.  With editor John Campbell at the helm, who personally reads and approves every item chosen from the slush pile, and who has a distinctive style (to the say the least), the magazine has really gotten itself into a rut.  Sometimes it manages to be good, but more often, as with this month, it's deadly dully.  Read on, and you'll see what I mean.

The issue at hand


by Chesley Bonestell

Supernova, by Poul Anderson


by Kelly Freas

David Falkayn, protegé of Nicholas van Rijn, returns in yet another astronomically interesting but utterly dull adventure.  This time, callow human Falkayn, and his trader team comprising the pacifist buddhist saurian, Adzel, the foul-mouthed racoon, Chee Lan, and the computer, Muddlehead, have visited a world about to be blasted by a nearby supernova.  The planet, at about a Year 2000 level of technology, is riven into several regional powers, and a system-wide crime syndicate has nation-like power.

Falkayn is struggling with determining who their team should work with to build a planetary shield when the decision is taken out of his hands: Chee Lan is abducted by the system's equivalent of the mob.  Falkayn's solution to his dilemma is supposed to be clever, but it feels obvious and uninspired.

Two stars.

A Criminal Act, by Harry Harrison


by Kelly Freas

Here's a piece inspired by the same Malthusian nightmare as the author's hit, Make Room, Make room.  A fellow and his wife have had three kids, one more than the law allows.  As a result, a kill-happy citizen is legally allowed to try to bump the dad off.  It's a duel to the death, either result of which will keep the population stable.

Bob Sheckley could have made this work.  Maybe.  In another magazine.

Two stars.

Bring 'Em Back Alive!, by Lyle R. Hamilton

The nonfiction article this month is about wind tunnels, heat shields, and retrorockets.  Not a bad topic, but Hamilton's overly breezy style doesn't quite work.

Three stars.

Amazon Planet (Part 2 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

Last time around, author Reynolds took us back to the world of the United Planets, a loose galactic confederation of humans in which each planet is allowed whatever government, culture, demographics it likes.  This time, the planet is Amazonia, ruled by women and with the cultural iconography of the famed Greek warrior women.

Guy Thomas was a mild-mannered trade entrepreneur hoping to stoke an iridium/columbum trade between Amazonia and Avalon.  But at the end of the last installment, we discovered he was actually a secret agent.  In Part 2, we find out he's a UP spy, sent when a man from Amazonia made an unprecedented escape from the planet and pleaded for refugee status.  It seems there's a widespread masculine revolutionary movement.

Unfortunately for Thomas, he is quickly captured by the technologically superior Amazons and made to reveal his true identity: he is none other than Ronny Bronston, part of the mysterious Section G, whose explicit purpose is to topple regressive governments–in flagrant violation of the Federation's constitution.  Under truth drugs, Bronston spills the beans.  But before he can give further info, he is rescued by a member of his original escort party, a female soldier who has taken a shine to him.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire!

My nephew continues to rave about this series, whereas I find it mostly an excuse to discuss political theory interspersed with some boilerplate action sequences (which, to be fair, Reynolds has made a good career of).

Barely three stars and sinking.

The Old Shill Game, by H. B. Fyfe


by Kelly Freas

A robovendor is programmed to have an edge on his daily rounds at the concourse.  With the aid of a team of robotic shills, it attracts the attentions of human commuters and makes a killing.  Thus ensues a war between the robovendor's programming team and that of their competitors, each iteration making the android vending machine a bit smarter.

The road to Mike from The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is paved with capitalism.

There's a good idea here, but the execution is a bit muddled and the whole thing just not very satisfying.  Two stars.

The Last Command, by Keith Laumer


by Kelly Freas

From one sapient robot to another: Keith Laumer returns with his answer to Saberhagen's Berserker series, only Laumer's Bolos are tanks rather than ships, and they apparently used to work for people rather than against them.

In this installment, a long-dead machine comes to life deep underground, nearly a century after its last conflict.  Certain that it has been imprisoned by the enemy, it roars to life, slowly making its way toward a city that has sprouted since its deactivation.  An old veteran of the old battle thinks he has the key to stopping this indestructible weapon of war.

It's a bit less polished than previous entries in the series, but I found the end touching.

Three stars.

Doing the math

Running the Star-o-vac, I find Analog scored just 2.5 stars–the worst of the month!  But this has been kind of a lousy month in general, so it's not certain that open trade is the answer.  After all, the British mags, New Worlds (3.3), and Science Fantasy (2.9), are rumored to be on the edge of extinction.  Fantastic (2.6) wasn't good this month, even with decades of reprints available.  IF (2.8) was thoroughly mediocre.  And while I liked Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.2), no one else seems to be enjoying the new serial.

On the other hand, there was exactly one story by a woman this month, and it was one of the best ones.  Maybe, instead of free trade between the current magazine contributors, we need a campaign to tap the as yet fallow resource: women writers.

Crazy, I know, but it's a thought.



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[November 30, 1966] Marking time (December 1966 Analog)

But first, please read this brief interlude!

As you know, in addition to Galactic Journey, I also run Journey Press, devoted both to republishing classics discovered while on this trek through time, but also to publish new works of science fiction in fantasy that (I hope!) live up to the quality and tradition of the classic works we offer.

If anyone would enjoy these works, we know it will be you.  This holiday season, pick up a title or three from Journey Press!  It's the best present you can give yourself, a loved one…and us!




by Gideon Marcus

Bogged down

With more than half a million American troops in Vietnam now, the South Vietnamese are starting to feel like they're living under occupation.  There's no doubt who's calling the shots these days.  The question is, is this surge of military force going to be enough to drag Ho Chi Minh to the bargaining table?

Despite the flow of optimistic figures from the Pentagon, it doesn't look like peace or even peace overtures will happen any time soon.  The closest we've gotten is securing a pair of holiday ceasefires.  So, expect a long slog and nightly death counts on the evening news for the forseeable future.  Better dead than Red, right?


American soldiers enjoy a Thanksgiving respite before heading off to combat again.  They may end up taking as long getting to Hanoi as it's taking Saunders and Kelly to get to Berlin.

In the trenches

Meanwhile, the December 1966 Analog constitutes a landmark of sorts — it's the last magazine of the year!  And, like Vietnam, it's often been a tedious, dragging affair.  This month is no different, though the magazine starts better than it ends.  Let's get our report from the front, shall we?

A quick note on the inside cover this month.  Yes, the one editor whose editorials I skip every month has bundled his loony screeds together and is offering them in book form. Or as Tom Lehrer put it:

Now there's a charge for what she used to give for free…

He even got Harry Harrison to shill for him.  I have to disagree with Harrison, though: while Campbell indeed may be "idiosyncratic, prejudiced, and annoying", he also is usually quite boring.

Don't fail to miss!

Amazon Planet (Part 1 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

Mack Reynolds once again sets a tale in his loosely knit United Planets.  Humanity has sprawled across hundreds of stars, and one of the primary tenets of this community is that each colony expresses itself as it likes so long as it harms no other world.

As might be deduced from the title, this latest novel features a matriarchy planet, one where the "traditional" (read mid-20th Century) gender roles are reversed.  Well, not so much features, as this first third of the novel takes place not on "Amazonia", but on a freighter headed toward it.  There are only two passengers: Terran Guy Thomas, a deceptively mild trader with plans to open Amazonia up to the niobium trade, and Patricia O' Gara, refugee from the exceedingly puritanical colony of Victoria.

There's not a lot of action in this section.  Mostly crew mates talking about how terribly men are treated on Amazonia, Pat (and later a troop of Amazons) explaining how they're wrong, and Guy acting as something of a catalyst for discussion.  It's all rendered rather broadly, but simply the fact that this subject is even being discussed, and a matriarchy is not being played for laughs, is interesting.

I'm waiting to see where it goes; this could be an awful, sexist piece or it could be an enlightened one.  Only time will tell (though Reynolds has a good track record on this front).

Three stars.

The Weathermakers, by Ben Bova


by Leo Summers

Hurricane season is hotting up, and it's up to Ted, Jerry, Tuli, and Barney (the last a woman) of Project THUNDER to ensure none of these storms hits the Atlantic seaboard.  To accomplish this, they'll use cloud seeding planes and orbital lasers to increase the equilibrium of the systems, smoothing them out before they become rotating furies.

But when these methods prove insufficient, only true weather control on a national scale can save Washington D.C. from a devastating cyclone.

The Weathermakers is actually an excerpt from an upcoming novel, presumably the climax.  It's exciting enough, and the technology is interesting, although I have to wonder if pumping extra heat energy into the Earth's atmosphere isn't ultimately a dangerous thing.

It's all a bit gung ho and simplistic, more what I'd expect from a juvenile.  This is not a bad thing, of course.  We can use more juvenile authors of merit.

Four stars.

Cytoplasmic Inheritance , by Carl A. Larson

The nonfiction article this issue is an extremely abstruse, but not unreadable, piece on the role the cytoplasm plays in genetics.  Apparently, it's not all governed by DNA in the nucleus.

Biology's not my bag, and a lot of it went over my head, but I did read it and found interest in it.

Three stars.

The Blue-Penciled Throop, by L. Edey

It's all downhill from here.  First, we've got another in the epistolary Throop series, basically an excuse for Campbell to tell us how hard his job is as editor having to deal with a bunch of nincompoops.

Two stars.

The Price of Simeryl, by Kris Neville


by Leo Summers

The colony of Elanth has got itself in a bind.  The local government bought too much of the addictive Simeryl drug to pacify the indigenous Elanthians, who both are having trouble meeting their farm quotas and are spending too much time fighting the Coelanths, a vicious species that has enjoyed a recent resurgence.  Third Foreign Secretary Raleigh is sent to the planet to fact-find pending a solution.

Wow, that didn't take me long to write at all.  The story, on the other hand, is presented as a set of interminable interviews with various government officials, none of them pleasant or particularly distinctive from each other.  And in the end, there is no revelation.  The story is perhaps five times longer than it needs to be.  Even at its best, it's pointless.

Also, I'm getting a little tired of putative future governments with nary a woman to be found in them.  From Ann Rosenberg Hoffman to Margaret Chase Smith to Indira Gandhi, we've had many prominent female lawmakers and cabinet leaders.  It's time to feature women in our science fiction at least to the degree they are represented on 1966 Earth, and not just in extreme cases as depicted in the Reynolds this month.

One star.

Under the Dragon's Tail, by Philip Latham


by Leo Summers

Finally, "Philip Latham" (Dr. Robert S. Richardson, who writes great nonfiction), turns in a piece that's basically the day-to-day dreariness of an assistant planetarium manager.  That an asteroid is going to smack down in Griffith Park at the end is a mostly extraneous detail.

Two stars.

Looking Back

Well, that wasn't very good, was it?  Indeed, Analog sets a record of sorts: at 2.5 stars, it is the worst magazine of the month.  Slightly better, though still dismal, was Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6).  Amazingly enough, Amazing beat out both of them with 2.9 stars.

Above the mediocrity line lie siblings Galaxy (3.1) and IF (3.2) The British mags top out the list with Impulse at 3.3 and New Worlds at a whopping 3.6!

There was exactly one story by a woman this month.  I had thought '66 would be better than '65 in this regard, but no dice.  To paraphrase Mrs. Rosenberg Hoffman, Assistant Defense Secretary under Truman, science fiction without women is an industry half-idle.  I hope things get better soon.

I guess we'll continue to mark time until then…



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[November 24, 1966] Middling (December 1966 Amazing)


by John Boston

Better Red than . . . ?

The December Amazing, all business, with the editorial and letter column seemingly dropped permanently , makes a nice-looking package, with a cover by Frank R. Paul shamelessly dominated by near-fire engine red.  It’s taken from the back cover of the January 1942 Amazing, where it was titled “Glass City of Europa.” The caption there says "Transparent and opaque plastics make this a wonder city of ersatz science.  Transportation is by means of giant, domesticated insects." 


by Frank R. Paul

Interestingly, this cover is not only cropped from the original, as is usual, but altered: someone has airbrushed Jupiter from the upper left-hand corner!  There’s nothing in its place but more red.  Now that’s editing!  Of a sort.

Born Under Mars (Part 1 of 2), by John Brunner

The featured fiction on the cover is the beginning of John Brunner’s two-part serial Born Under Mars.  As usual I will withhold comment (and reading) until both parts are available.  A quick inspection suggests that this one represents Brunner the capable post-pulp storyteller and not the author in his highly variable philosophical mode, the poles represented by his worthy The Whole Man and his unfortunate mess The Bridge to Azrael.


by Gray Morrow

Vanguard of the Lost, by John D. Macdonald

John D. Macdonald is best known for crime fiction—a lot of it.  Since 1950 he has published 40-odd crime novels, most if not all original paperbacks.  His current project is a series of novels about a private eye named Travis McGee—eight of them in three years.  In all this criminous fecundity it’s easily forgotten that Macdonald was once an up-and-coming SF writer, and pretty prolific at that too.  From 1948 to 1952 he published almost 50 stories in the SF magazines, in addition to a number in the borderline-SF pulp Doc Savage, all the while maniacially generating crime stories as well.  He used multiple pseudonyms and sometimes had multiple stories in the same magazine issue.  In his spare time he cranked out two decently-received SF novels, Wine of the Dreamers and Ballroom of the Skies.  A lot of his work was excellent, too; highlights include A Child Is Crying, Flaw, Game for Blondes, and my own favorite, the compact and nasty Spectator Sport, all of them promptly anthologized.


by Julian S. Krupa

Then it all stopped.  He had one last story in 1953 in Fantasy and Science Fiction, and since then it’s been all crime, almost all the time.  He did appear in the Merril annual “best SF” volume a couple of years ago with a weak fantasy from Cosmopolitan, The Legend of Joe Lee, and in 1962 published The Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, a crime novel (rather, a farce with some crime and attempted crime in it) with an SF premise: the time-slowing gimmick of Wells’s The New Accelerator and its numerous successors, including Macdonald’s own Half-Past Eternity, a novella for the pulp Super Science Stories in 1950.

Crime, it appears, paid—at least better than SF.  And in fact the SF market of the 1950s could never have accommodated the number of novels he produced.  His post-1952 short fiction, meanwhile, was split between the crime fiction magazines and the more lucrative likes of Cosmopolitan, Collier’s, and the Saturday Evening Post.

After that buildup, it’s unfortunate that Macdonald’s Vanguard of the Lost, from the May 1950 Fantastic Adventures, doesn’t amount to more.  Aliens have landed!  Well, not landed yet, but their fleet of ships is traversing the globe.  Larry Graim, statistician by day and SF writer by night, goes up to his building’s roof to check them out, and meets there Alice, a feisty young woman who proves to be the one who denounces Graim’s work relentlessly in the SF magazine letter columns (“the poor man’s Kuttner and the cretin’s van Vogt”).

Graim is disoriented by the fact that these aliens’ rather beat-up-looking, uncommunicative spaceships first seem to be mapping the earth, and then land and release large machines that start building things with no visible sentient direction.  It’s completely different from the plots he’s familiar with from the SF magazines, so he and Alice go try to figure out what’s behind the seemingly mindless display.  En route there is much mild satire of Everyman reacting to the unprecedented.  The denouement is uninspiring and ends on a note of slapstick, to be followed by wedding bells to complete the meet-cute plot.  It’s readable and vaguely amusing.  Three stars.

The Revolt of the Pedestrians, by David H. Keller, M.D.

The second novelet in the issue is David H. Keller’s first, and probably most famous, story, The Revolt of the Pedestrians (Amazing, Feb. 1928).  In the future, everybody is on wheels, all the time.  The mania for speed has overtaken everything else; the roadways are progressively more dominated by automobiles; pedestrians first become fair game and then are banned altogether, and hounded out of existence—or so it is thought.  By the time of the story, the legs of the ordinary citizen have atrophied, and everyone gets around the house and the office in miniature personal cars.  But . . . hidden in the wilderness, a remnant population of pedestrians is thriving, and scheming, and perfecting their science, and soon they shall declare themselves and their demands. 


by Frank R. Paul

This of course is all quite ridiculous.  But aside from that minor problem, this story is actually pretty good.  It’s well paced in a rambling sort of way, very smoothly written, with engaging central characters, with Keller’s soon-to-be-characteristic expositional chunks going down smoothly, and without the cranky and rancorous ideological overtones of some of his later stories.  And bear in mind that the absurd extrapolations here are a cruder version of the satirical method that later served Galaxy so well (compare Pohl’s The Midas Plague).  Three stars—four if one compares it only to other works of its time.

Dr. Grimshaw's Sanitarium, by Fletcher Pratt

I pinned Fletcher Pratt long ago as one of the more tedious SF writers going (actually, gone: 1897-1956).  I remember as a child trying to force my way through his Double Jeopardy, thinking that if Doubleday published it and it was reprinted as a Galaxy Novel, there must be something to it.  Then I encountered Invaders from Rigel, in which elephantine extraterrestrials turn humans into metal by manipulating radiation, and realized the futility of persevering with it, or with him.  (In fairness, Pratt’s outright fantasy, both his collaborations with L. Sprague de Camp and his unaccompanied work, was much superior.)

The Pratt-fall du jour is Dr. Grimshaw’s Sanitarium, from the May 1934 Amazing.  Our hero John Doherty is sent to the sanitarium by his employer for a rest after his courageous thwarting of a train robbery, which left him with some psychological difficulty.  It soon becomes apparent that Dr. Grimshaw is a sinister character and there’s something funny going on.  He’s turning people into midgets!  Soon enough the Doctor gets wise to Doherty and his friends and really gives them the midget treatment, so they end up having to survive in the grass, which is now apparently taller than they are, and subsist on insects that they manage to kill with makeshift weapons (reportedly, June bugs are reasonably tasty but houseflies are disgusting).  But now the end is near!  Grimshaw’s got a cat, and all is lost.  Two stars, barely.


by Leo Morey

Interestingly (sort of), when editors Leo Margulies and Oscar J. Friend solicited self-nominations for an anthology to be titled My Best Science Fiction Story, published in 1949, Pratt submitted this one, though he did acknowledge rewriting it for a more modern audience.  I did not investigate the revision.

The Flame from Nowhere, by Eando Binder


by Julian S. Krupa

Eando Binder’s The Flame from Nowhere (Amazing, April 1939) is a routine period adventure story: forest fire proves impossible to stop, turns out it’s really an atomic fire, must have atomic fire-fighting methods, our hero quickly whips them up in a flurry of mumbo-jumbo, making the penultimate sacrifice, two stars.  Next!

The Commuter, by Philip K. Dick


by Bill Ashman

Philip K. Dick’s The Commuter, from the August/September 1953 Amazing, during the magazine’s brief flirtation with high pay rates and a stab at higher quality, is one of many facilely clever stories from his early period of prolific glibness.  It starts with a small man asking a railroad clerk for a ticket book to Macon Heights, being told there is no Macon Heights, and disappearing.  It happens again.  A railroad official takes the train and finds it does stop at Macon Heights, which research shows was a proposed development that was rejected by the authorities years ago.  So what’s happening to reality?  The story, which foreshadows more substantial work by Dick on the same theme, is a trifle with a barb; it effectively conveys the official’s fear for his familiar world and life.  Three stars.

He Took It with Him, by Clark Collins

The issue concludes with He Took It With Him, by Clark Collins, actually a pseudonym of Mack Reynolds, who mostly used it for articles in men’s magazines, such as Beat’s Guide to Paris, in French Frills for October-December of this year (Beat?  In 1966?  What a square.) and Guide to Fallen Women in Sir Knight in 1961.  This story is from the April 1950 Fantastic Adventures. Bentley, a selfish rich guy with cancer who’s got a year to live, buys a noted scientist with a promise to build the research institute the scientist dreams of if he will only figure out how to preserve Bentley until such time as he can be revived and cured.  The new Institute will be charged with keeping him safe, and also hiding his money, converted to gold and diamonds, until he is awakened to (of course) a nasty surprise that’s not too obvious to the reader.  Readable, modestly clever, three stars.


by H. W. MacCauley

Summing Up

So, a middling reading experience—nothing too terrible, most of it at least agreeably readable, one surprise from the unlikely source of Dr. Keller, and the prospect of the Brunner serial pending. 



(For an excellent experience, you don't want to miss Part 2 of "The Menagerie", the next episode of Star Trek — join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)

Here's the invitation!



[September 30, 1966] Return to Base (October 1966 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

The Comfort of Old Friends

One of the brilliant things about the new show, Star Trek, is that it combines the storytelling breadth of a science fiction anthology show (a la The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits with the anchoring of a returning ensemble cast.  This has never really been done before (at least in the United States — the UK has Doctor Who and the various marionette shows).  In addition to the exciting new situations that arise every week, we can also enjoy watching our favorite characters grow over time.

Many science fiction magazines are like the older anthology shows, offering a brand new cast of characters and new ideas with every montly set of stories.  Others, like Analog, and in particular this month's issue, are like Star Trek, bringing us back to familiar territory for further explorations of a known universe.

I think both are valid formats, particularly if the established properties are successful.  Analog did a pretty good job this month.  Let's dive in…

The Issue at Hand


by John Schoenherr

Strangers to Paradise, by Christopher Anvil

Chris Anvil is an author who has occasionally shown flashes of promise — but always in other magazines.  In Analog, he has dug himself a rut with an anvil-weighted plow and happily buried himself in it.


by John Schoenherr

Strangers is yet another story that takes place in his galactic trade universe.  This one involves a ship whose gravitor has broken down, and whose crew has made planetfall to seek repairs.  Unfortunately, though the Michelin guide said there was a Class II repair facility on the colony world, it was never actually built.  Instead, the colonists proved so unruly that the computer running the outpost established draconian control.  The technicians who could override the machine exiled themselves rather than deal with either the colonists or the computer!

To fix their ship, the traders need help from the city dwellers.  But to get the help, they need the technicians back.  How do they repair the impasse?

I thought this might be setting up a Deathworld scenario, where the immigrants are the key to restoring harmony.  But this is Chris Anvil in Campbell's mag.  Instead, they accidentally develop a psychic projector, able to instill any emotion into any human at any range.  Over the course of many pages, they manipulate the entire planetary population in a haphazard fashion, ultimately getting what they need.  In the end, they consider dismantling the device as an unethical abomination…but decide to keep it.  Just too useful to destroy, you know.

I found this story quite distasteful.  Less glib than Anvil's other tales, but callous in a way that suggests support rather than condemnation for the actions of the shipwrecked crew.

Two stars.

The Sons of Prometheus, by Alexei Panshin


by Leo Summers

Sons sees the return of a fine new author who you've not only seen before, but who has even written a guest article for the Journey!  (the line between fan and pro in the 'zines is a blurry one.) This new tale appears to be set in the compelling timeline set up in What Size are Giants? and the amazing Down to the Worlds of Men.

The premise: on the brink of atomic self-destruction, Earth sends out more than a hundred colonies.  Fifteen years later, Earth is a radiated wasteland.  The only humans left live either in struggling settlements or rather comfortably as crew and passengers on starships.  This sets up a haves and have-nots situation.  The planeteers are primitive, suspicious folks.  The ship dwellers have limited resources to assist.

This particular tale involves a fellow named Tansman, who embeds himself on a plague-infested colony to conduct anthropological research.  His ultimate dilemma: does he offer what limited medicine he can to save a few, revealing himself, putting his mission and possibly his person in danger?  Or does he watch as the colonists die in droves?

It's a vivid story, though I feel it doesn't do quite enough with the setup.  It also stacks the deck a bit toward a certain outcome.  I also could have done without the extremely graphic, drawn out scene in which Tansman puts a suffering colonist out of his misery (warning: it's in the last third of the tale).

So, three stars, but I wouldn't mind seeing more in this setting.

Challenge: The Insurgent vs. the Counterinsurgent (Part 2), by Joe Poyer

With the non-fiction column, we return to last month's topic — namely counterinsurgency.  Poyer notes the great strides that have been made in tracking insurgents, using infrared, electronic bugs, even scent.  He correlates this increase in counterinsurgency effectiveness with the decline in successful insurgencies since 1956.  He makes the hopeful prediction that the golden age of guerrilas may be at an end.

The problem, of course, is that better counterinsurgents only addresses one prong of the problem.  As even Poyer notes, until the populace's needs are addressed, insurgency will thrive.  Moreover, I was reading in the latest diplomatic journals that few expect the United States to be successful in Vietnam, our latest counterinsurgent operation.  That is because the issue is an Asian problem, and the US has limited ability to project force and influence in another continent.  Vietnam is not a colony.  It is a sovereign country riven with civil war.  One way or another, they're going to have to solve their own issues.  Our presence is an ephemeral condition, and it is arguable that it is making the situation any better.

Three stars for an interesting read and lots of pretty charts, but I doubt the author's conclusion.

Romp, by Mack Reynolds


by Leo Summers

Back to the world of Joe Mauser, where the Earth of the 1980s is divided into four camps: the free countries of Latin America and Africa, Common Europe, the somewhat democratic SovWorld, and the "People's Capitalism" of the West.  The United States has calcified into economic castes, and upward mobility is virtually impossible.

Enter Rosy Porras, born into the long-dead job of pretzel twister.  He has figured out how to live a life of crime in an ostensibly crimeless world.  When his latest "romp" goes sour, he has to make a run for the border.  Can he make it in time?

I find the Mauser setting fascinating if based on increasingly unlikely premises.  This story is a bit too pat, but it's a competent thriller.  Three stars.

Too Many Magicians (Part 3 of 4), by Randall Garrett


by John Schoenherr

And now we return to the world of Lord Darcy, a timeline in which magic has displaced science, the Angevin Empire is squared against the Polish Confederation, and a Holmes analog is tasked with solving two murders.  We learned in the last installment that both were secret agents in the employ of HRM, and that their deaths are connected with a super secret magical confusion ray.

What we don't know is how one succumbed in a locked room, how Demoiselle Tia Einzig (accused of dealing in the Black Arts) of a southern slavic state was involved, or how certain was the loyalty of the murdered agents.

This continues to be a fun novel, and the setting is positively lavish.  If there's just one thing that's mildly unconvincing, it's the development of modern-style military ranks, as well as English colloquialisms, in a timeline that diverged from ours nearly a millennium ago.

Also, it can be a little tough to keep track of an intricate mystery spread out over four months of reading.  Nevertheless, four stars for another fine installment, and high hopes for a satistfying ending in October!

Reading the Results

It's a shame about the Anvil, as it drags the issue down to a straight 3 stars.  The issue feels better than that because it improves as it goes along.  Ah well. 3 still puts Analog alongside Alien Worlds (3.0) and just below Galaxy (rounds to 3 but was slightly above).

This makes Campbell's mag better than New Writings #9 (2.9),
Amazing (2.5), and IF (2.5) this month, and not as good as Impulse (3.2), New Worlds (3.3), or Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.3).

Worthy stuff (four and five stars) could easily fill two magazine's worth, but women wrote just 7.5% of the new fiction this month.  So much for the renaissance I predicted last month.

That wraps up the October 1966 magazines.  In two days, the November crop comes in!





[August 2, 1966] Mirages (September 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

The popular image of a mirage is a shining oasis in a desert replete with shady palm trees and sometimes dancing girls. That’s not how mirages work. We’re all familiar with heat shimmer, say on a hot, empty asphalt road, casting the image of the sky onto the ground and resembling water. Less common is the Fata Morgana, which makes it look as though cities or islands are floating in the sky. But the popular idea of the mirage remains: something beautiful and desirable, yet insubstantial.

Heat Wave

July was a real scorcher in the United States as a heat wave settled in over much of the Midwest. A heat wave might make a fun metaphor for passion if you’re Irving Berlin or Martha and the Vandellas, but as the latest hit from the Lovin’ Spoonful suggests, it can be a pretty unpleasant experience. As the mercury rises, people get pretty hot under the collar.

On July 12th, the Black neighborhoods on Chicago’s West Side exploded. The sight of children playing in the spray of a fire hydrant is a familiar one, but the city’s fire commissioner ordered the hydrants closed. The spark was lit when, while shutting off the hydrants, the police attempted to arrest a man, either because there was a warrant for his arrest (according to them) or because he reopened a hydrant right in front of them (according to the locals). As things escalated, stores were looted and burned, rocks were thrown at police and firemen and shots were fired. There were also peaceful protests led by Dr. Martin Luther King. Mayor Daley called in the National Guard with orders to shoot. Ultimately, the mayor relented. Police protection was granted to Blacks visiting public pools (all in white neighborhoods), portable pools were brought in and permission was given to open the hydrants.


Children in Chicago playing in water from a reopened hydrant

As things wound down in Chicago, they flared up in Cleveland. On the 18th in the predominantly Black neighborhood of Hough, the owners of the white-owned bar the Seventy-Niner’s Café refused ice water to Black patrons, possibly posting a sign using a word I won’t repeat here. Once again, there was looting and burning and the National Guard was called in. Things calmed after a couple of days, but heated up again when police fired on a car being driven by a Black woman with four children as passengers. It appears to be over now and the Guard has been gradually withdrawn over the last week. City officials are blaming “outside agitators” for the whole thing.

These riots are a stark reminder that the passage of the Civil Rights Act two years ago didn’t magically make everything better, and that problems also exist outside of the South. We have a long way to go before racial equality is more than just wishful thinking.


National Guardsmen outside the Seventy-Niner’s Café

Pretty, but insubstantial

Some of the stories in this month’s IF are gorgeously written, but lacking in plot. Sometimes that’s enough, sometimes it isn’t.


This fellow’s having a very bad day, but he’s not in The Edge of Night. Art by Morrow

The Edge of Night (Part 1 of 2), by A. Bertram Chandler

Commodore John Grimes has resigned both as Superintendent of Rim Runners and from the Rim Worlds Naval Reserve, effective as soon as his replacement arrives. The monotony of the situation breaks when a mysterious ship appears out of nowhere, refusing to answer any hails. Although there’s no hurry, he quickly assembles a crew, including his new wife, late of Terran Federation Naval Intelligence, and his usual psionics officer, whose living dog brain in a jar, which is used as an amplifier, is clearly nearing the end of its life.

The strange ship proves to be highly radioactive. It bears the name Freedom, painted over the older name Distriyir. Everyone aboard is dead, all humans dressed in rags. The only logical conclusion is that the ship is from an alternate universe (the walls between universes are thin at the rim of the galaxy) and the crew escaped slaves. Taking the ship back to its original universe, Grimes and his people learn that intelligent rats have enslaved humans out in the Rim Worlds in this universe. They resolve to correct the situation. To be continued.


The enemy fights like cornered rats. Art by Gaughan

Chandler has written several stories about John Grimes, though his only appearances so far at the Journey have been cameos in other stories set in the Rim. This story seems to be a direct sequel to Into the Alternate Universe, which was half of a 1964 Ace Double.

The story is wonderfully written, pulling the reader along in a way that can only be compared to Heinlein. The characters are strong and distinct, including a woman who is smart, tough, active and above all believable. There’s also a wealth of detail, such as the placement of instruments, clearly stemming from the author’s years serving in the merchant marine of the United Kingdom and Australia, which give verisimilitude to the ships and their crews.

While reading it, this absolutely felt like a four star story to me, but after letting it sit for a while, I’ve cooled slightly. A very, very high three stars.

The Face of the Deep, by Fred Saberhagen

In Masque of the Red Shift, Johann Karlson, the hero of the Battle of Stone Place, led a Berserker, an alien killing machine out to destroy all life, into an orbit around a collapsed star. In the story In the Temple of Mars, we learned of a plan to rescue Karlson. Here, we follow Karlson as he gazes in awe at the collapsed star and its effects on space. The Berserker pursuing him is unable to shoot his ship, but are the people who appear to rescue him the real thing or a ruse?

There isn’t much story here, but the prose is beautiful, pure sense of wonder. Saberhagen is clearly building up to something, probably a confrontation between Karlson and his half-brother, all no doubt to eventually wind up in a fix-up novel. This is only a brief scene in that larger tale, but the sheer poetry of the thing is enough.

Four stars.

The Empty Man, by Gardner Dozois

Jhon Charlton is a weapon created by the Terran Empire. Nearly invulnerable, incredibly strong and fast, he can even summon tremendous energies. Unfortunately for him, for the last three years, he has shared his mind with a sarcastic entity called Moros, which has appointed itself as his conscience. Now, Jhon has been sent to the planet Apollon to help the local rebels overthrow the dictatorial government.


Jhon Charlton deals with an ambush. Art by Burns

Gardner Dozois is this month’s new author, and this is quite a debut. It’s a long piece for a novice, but he seems up to it. There’s room for some cuts, but not much. The mix of science fiction and almost fantasy elements is interesting and works. The only place I’d say a lack of experience and polish shows it at the very end. The point is a bit facile and could have been delivered a touch more smoothly, but it’s a fine start to a new career. Mr. Dozois has entered the Army, though, so it may be a while before we see anything else from him.

A high three stars.

Arena, by Mack Reynolds

Ken Ackerman and his partner Billy are Space Scouts for a galactic confederation. They’ve been captured by the centauroid inhabitants of Xenopeven, who refuse to communicate with them. After several days of captivity, they’re separated, and Ken next sees Billy’s corpse being dragged from the sands of an arena. Vowing revenge, he finds himself the next participant in something like a Spanish bullfight, with Ken as the bull.


Ken after his encounter with the picadores. Art by Virgil Finlay

This is far from Reynolds’ best work. The action is decent, but the parallels with bullfighting are pointed out too explicitly (though maybe it’s necessary for readers who aren’t familiar with the so-called “sport”). However, there is a bit of a twist at the end – one that made me go back and double-check the text – that lifts the story out of complete mediocrity. So-so Reynolds is still pretty readable.

Three stars.

How to Live Like a Slan, by Lin Carter

This month, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at the fannish tendency to give names to inanimate objects. He starts off with the residences of fans sharing apartments and expenses, going back to the Slan Shack in Battle Creek, Michigan right after the War. Alas, the whole thing is largely just a list of in-jokes and things that were funny at the time. And I’ve known plenty of people with no interest in SF who have named their cars. It’s hardly restricted to fans.

Two stars.

The Ghost Galaxies, by Piers Anthony

In an effort to test the steady state theory and perhaps find out what happened to the first expedition, Captain Shetland leads the crew of the Meg II on a voyage to or beyond the theoretical boundary of the steady state universe. The ship’s logarithmic FTL drive increases speed by an order of magnitude every hour. As the ship passes one megaparsec per hour, the crew grows increasingly worried, and their mental state can affect the drive and the ship’s ability to return home.


Somnanda maintains the beacon which keeps the ship in contact with real space. Art by Adkins

This was a difficult story to summarize, or even understand. The writing is very pretty, with a dreamlike quality that mirrors the captain’s mental state and thought processes, but often left me unsure just what was going on. I came away with the feeling that there’s something here, but I have no idea what.

A low three stars.

Enemies of Gree, by C. C. MacApp

Steve Duke is deep behind enemy lines, this time with the B’lant Fazool and Ralph Perry from earlier Gree stories. They’re spying on a Gree excavation not far from the place where Gree first entered the galaxy. Strangely, there are animals here not native to the planet. There may also be an intelligent species nearby, watching both Steve and the Gree slaves.


The ull-ull aren’t native to this planet. Art by Morrow

I’m tired of these Gree stories. Even those that aren’t terrible have a sameness to them. In each of the last few stories, MacApp has made us think that those fighting Gree finally have what they need for victory. It’s time to wrap this series up. This one isn’t helped by the fact that every time Fazool gets mentioned I think of Van and Schenck or Bugs Bunny.

A low three stars.

The Hour Before Earthrise (Part 3 of 3), by James Blish

Dolph Haertel and Nanette Ford have been stranded on Mars, thanks to Dolph’s invention of anti-gravity. They’ve managed to survive, and last time Dolph discovered a radio beacon and set up an interruptor to attract attention. As the installment concluded, they encountered a feline-like predator. This proves to be an intelligent being. They manage to establish contact with Dohmn (the closest they can come to pronouncing its name) and make friends. Eventually, Dohmn leads them to the last surviving member of the original Martian race.


Dohmn introduces Dolph and Nanette to the last Martian. Art by Morrow

And so we reach the end, with everything wrapped up nice and neat. For humans anyway. I’m bothered by the last Martian bequeathing Mars to humanity rather than Dohmn’s people. It’s all a bit too facile, and I find myself returning to my original conception of this as a parody of SF juveniles, from Tom Swift to Heinlein to more recent examples as the story progresses. This certainly wouldn’t be my first pick to give a young reader.

A low three stars for this part and the novel as a whole.

Summing Up

There you have it. An issue that starts off hot and gradually grows tepid. Parts of it sure are pretty, though, even if they’re just hot air.


Dickson, Niven and the rest of the Chandler look promising. A new McIntosh novel less so.






[June 30, 1966] Not Reading You (July 1966 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Common meaning

Every so often, a science fiction magazine editor has enough of a backlog to run a "themed" issue.  For instance, there was the time Fred Pohl bunged together an issue of IF with stories all by someone named Smith.  This time around, Analog editor John Campbell has accumulated a supply of tales on the subject of communication.

The problem with themed issues, of course, is that quality is often secondary to topic.  But not always.  Let's see how the July 1966 Analog fares before we make a hasty conclusion!

Five by Five (plus two)


by John Schoenherr

The Message, by Piers Anthony and Frances Hall


by John Schoenherr

Mysterious Thargans have settled amidst the tiny human colony on Tau Ceti.  Though not overly aggressive, they aren't terribly congenial either.  But they are very inquisitive, about our technology, our physical capabilities, and our mental talents.  And their spaceship has a lot of cargo space — enough to fit a thousand slaves, for instance…

Rivera, a linguist who speaks the alien tongue, is tapped to assess the danger posed by the Thargans.  And when disaster inevitably strikes, he must recapitulate an era early in his life, when he managed to foil four would-be muggers not by force, but by the right verbal approach.

An interesting tale by a pair of newish writers, though a bit choppy and with flattish characters. 

Three stars.

The Signals, by Francis Cartier


by Kelly Freas

For the last half-decade, astronomers have been training their radio telescopes upon the stars, hoping to eavesdrop on transmissions from an intelligent alien race.  So-called Project Ozma hasn't found anything yet, and Cartier's tale explains why.  It's not that aliens aren't trying, it's just that we don't know how to listen.  Or more accurately, the fundamental theory of communication is too different between the species for intelligible contact.

Something of a throwaway piece, it is nevertheless cute and probably not far from the truth.  Three stars.

An Ounce of Dissension, by Martin Loran


by Kelly Freas

Quist of the interstellar Library corps is visiting the planet Rayer after a long trip through space.  Upon landing, the brutalist police troops burn his entire stock of books.  The planet is ripe for a revolution, but it needs a catalyst to do so.  Luckily, in Quist's cargo is a crate-sized book printer with a very large memory core…

Essentially a smug Fahrenheit 451, I can see why this piece appealed to Campbell.  But it takes too long to get where it's going, and it utilizes enough straw men to staff all the fields of Iowa.

Two stars.

Meaning Theory, by Dwight Wayne Batteau

This nonfiction piece is all about how the communication of information destroys meaning, and the imparting of meaning destroys information…or something like that.  Frankly, I couldn't make heads or tales of it.  The pictures are cute, the graphs seem useful, the text is in English.  Perhaps someone smarter than me will glean something from it.

Or maybe not.  One star for this failure to communicate.

The Ancient Gods (Part 2 of 2), by Poul Anderson


by John Schoenherr

Last issue, the crew of the starship Meteor had space-jumped 200 million light years from Earth to a feeble red dwarf out in intergalactic space.  They had hoped to establish trade relations with the advanced "yonderfolk" of the system.  Instead, they transitioned into real space too close to the next planet closer to the sun and crash landed.  Only six were left alive.

Hugh Valland, oldest of the more-or-less immortal group of spacers, hatched a plan to salvage a lifeboat so as to make the interplanetary trek to the yonderfolk planet.  But such a massive undertaking would require more than the half dozen remaining crew.  Luckily, intelligent (if primitive) beings exist on the swampy world.  Contact was made with the Azkashi, and it looked as if the plan might work.  As the first half came to a close, it seemed we might be getting a Flight of the Phoenix story. 

Instead, the second half begins with Hugh taken prisoner by the Askashi while the related but more advanced Gianyi abscond with the captain and the mentally unstable Yo Rorn.  It is quickly determined that the Gianyi are in the telepathic thrall of the Ai Chun, a race perhaps a billion years old.  They have stagnated to almost fossilization, and no amount of parley can dissaude them from their goal to strip the downed spaceship for its valuable metal and to work the humans as slaves until they die.  The captain escapes, and with Valland (who is freed by the Azkashi), plans a battle for their liberty.

Much of this installment is given to the war between the human-led Azkashi and the Ai Chun-controlled Gianyi.  It is effectively told, but the outcome is never in doubt, and I found myself less enamored with this wide swath of the text.  Long story short, there are happy endings and Hugh is ultimately reunited with his long lost love (of whom much is sung but little is known).

What I liked: Poul Anderson is a bard, and his stories are lyric performances.  His wistful, archaic prose is sometimes ill suited to its subject, but it works here.  The characters are nicely drawn and compelling.  The unique setting and the nifty aliens are all cutting edge science.  I appreciated the frank polygamy practiced by the captain and his genuine puzzlement with Valland's monogamy.  There's also the suggestion that strict heterosexuality is not observed in the far future.

What I was less delighted with: I felt like Anderson marked a lot of time with the war sequences, which did not bring much new to the table.  The acute lack of women, both on the crew of the Meteor and among the aliens (they exist in the background to do domestic chores, just like Earth females) marked another missed opportunity.  I also suspect that the Ai Chun and Gianyi are supposed to be metaphors for China — grand but hidebound.  Certainly Anderson draws a stated parallel between the Azkashi and the American Indians (for whom the author has an obvious fondness; viz. his tale in Orbit).  The racial comparisons made me slightly uncomfortable, though it's a minor thing and I could be wrong.

Finally, the revelation of Mary O' Meary's current condition in the story's epilogue is a bit trite, and quite unbelievable.  Here's the thing (and don't read on until you've either read the end or in the event you don't mind me giving away the gimmick): Mary has been dead for thousands of years, having passed away just before the advent of immortality.  She died at the age of nineteen.  This means that the immortal romance between she and Hugh could have lasted a few years at the most.

Now look, I love my wife more than anything.  If she passes before me, I may well stay single for the rest of my life.  But she and I have been together almost 30 years.  I balk at the idea that a teenage fling could possibly compel me to asceticism for thousands of years.  At that point, it's less about love and more a case of emotional masturbation.

Anyway, it's a solid three and a half stars.  I can imagine some ticking it up to a full four stars and others finding it all a bit tedious and giving it just three.

Survivor, by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

The threat of nuclear war looms, raising tensions to the breaking point.  When the klaxons go off, signalling the end of the world, millions flee the cities to find refuge, fighting over the quickly dwindling resources. 

But have the bombs actually fallen, or is it all a miscommunication? 

The premise to Survivor is pretty darned silly — that everyone will lose their collective minds out of fear.  I do believe that, in the case of a false alarm, there'd be panic and rioting and looting and mass disruption.  But not to the point that society completely breaks down such that both sides aren't even able to wage the war that frightened everyone in the first place!

Two stars.

The Missile Smasher, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Lastly, Anvil offers up a predictably slight tale of a series of rocket launch mishaps, the discovery of the focused light projector that is causing it, and the removal of said projector by a government troubleshooter.

I think it's meant to be funny or something.  It's not very good.

Two stars.

Wrong number

I'm afraid a common theme did little to elevate the current issue.  Indeed, in many cases, background noise might have been preferable to signal.  All told, the July Analog clocks in at a dismal 2.3 stars, placing it at the bottom of the heap.  The top is dominated by paperback-format periodicals: New Writings #8 (3.9), Fantastic (3.4), and Orbit #1 (3.4)

The middle of the pack is composed of the usual suspects: Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1), Impulse (3.1), New Worlds (2.8) and If (2.7).

Women were responsible for a whopping 14% of this month's output of new fiction (mostly thanks to Orbit, which featured five female authors).  If you took all the really good stuff published this month, you could comfortably fill two magazines.  Or just buy New Writings and Orbit!

So, whither Analog?  Will there be another theme next month, one that will drag the magazine ever closer to the dreaded 2-star rating?  Will it plunge even without a common thread?  Or will we get a sudden reversal, the kind we've seen several times over the past few years?

Stay tuned!



Speaking of tuning, tune in to KGJ, our radio station!  Our theme is quality and diversity!




[May 24, 1966] Hatchetmen, Marilyn Monroe and God Killers (Impulse and New Worlds, June 1966)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

June… Summer already! Well, almost. A British Summer can usually be relied upon for its inclemency. So, of course, it’s grey and dull here.

Well, at least I have the latest New Worlds and Impulse to cheer me up. Mind you, the two issues last month were rather damp squibs, if I’m honest. I am hoping that this month’s are better, although there are worrying signs here. More later.

To Impulse first.

And having rather fuzzy covers lately, courtesy of Associate Editor Mr. Keith Roberts, we have another one this month. Though it is not credited, it is clearly a Keith Roberts painting. At least I can tell that it’s a science fiction-y one.

The Editorial this month is interesting in that it is a “Guest Editorial” from Harry Harrison. After Kyril’s recent ruminating that he doesn’t know what to write about as an Editor, perhaps this is a sign that he’s given up, at least for a while.

It also rather makes me wonder how much of the work behind the scenes is actually done by the editor and how much by his Associate Editor!

Anyway, the Editorial by Harrison is OK. It looks ahead to 1968 for new sf books, and whilst there will be a number of “old hat” reissues and “rehashes of old themes”, Harry suggests that there will be new themes, probably more adult, and based on the softer sciences. It’s really a summary of the ideas that have been proposed before, both here in Impulse and in New Worlds.

Let’s move on to this month’s actual stories.

Hatchetman, by Mack Reynolds

You know Mack pretty well in the US, I think, though he is much less well known here. Last time he appeared in the Brit magazines, in the August 1965 issue of New Worlds I wasn’t too impressed, to be honest. His work in the US magazines since seems to be fairly solid, if rarely outstanding. His stories for Analog are often based on ideas from John W Campbell, which rather confirms my opinion. Hatchetman is the sort of old-fashioned story that I expect in Analog, which rather contradicts Harrison’s comments in the Editorial.

It’s a Space Opera adventure story, based upon a United Nations style organisation but dealing with planets rather than countries. The planet of Palermo, one of the United Planets, is being run by Luigi Agrigento, a Sicilian-type gangster who keeps tight control of the planet’s inhabitants in a feudal robber-baron set-up. An assassination on Earth instigated by Agrigento leads to Section G being left to arrest or kill the assassin. There’s lots of running about as a result.

It’s an entertaining read. It felt very much like a Western or a Gangster film transposed to Outer Space, the epitome of Space Opera, I guess. The characterisation is as you’d expect, and the pacing is great, though the story, whilst entertaining enough is clearly not “cutting-edge”. 3 out of 5.

George by Chris Boyce

The story of a hen-pecked husband defending his family during an invasion of dinosaurs. Not sure what annoyed me more about this one – the deliberately condensed sentences or the cloying endearments George uses towards his wife. They are designed to be annoying, but even so it was enough to put me off the rest of the story. 2 out of 5.

The Golden Coin of Spring by John Hamilton

A spaceship arrives on Earth from somewhere else to find that humans, without realising it, make the planet an inappropriate place for invasion. A basic twist in the tail story that hinges on the fact that the invading spaceship is the size of a coin. 3 out of 5.

Pavane: Lords & Ladies, by Keith Roberts

The fourth story from Roberts’ alternate History describes the social hierarchy that exists between the aristocracy and common folk in this alternate England, and perhaps something weirder.

We begin near the bed of Jesse Strange, the man we first met driving the Lady Anne steam-tractor back in the April 1966 issue. Intriguingly, Jesse is currently undergoing an exorcism and is near death.

This would be captivating enough. However, the focus of the story is really upon Anne Strange, the young niece of Jesse who is sat near the room’s window. Whilst sat she appears to go into some sort of reverie which reveals to her memories of her younger self but also visions of the future. Most of the narrative is about how the barely teenage Anne, meets Robert, who is Lord of Purbeck and lives at Corfe Castle. He woos her, beds her and then discards her. It was unclear to me whether this is past, present or both.

This could just be a historical tale of aristocracy dominating those beneath them, but Roberts adds to this elements that are definitely odd. Jesse’s home appears to be haunted, (hence the exorcism rites) but this may be due to appearance of things from other times or dimensions. In an almost Lovecraftian twist, Anne talks of and then meets one of “the Old Ones”, who seem to have some, but not total, influence on the proceedings of humans on Earth. Anne feels that she travels backwards and forwards through time in her memories, which may be the Old One’s doing.

Much of this series is about change. It is clear that some things have changed, whilst others have not. The story ends with Jesse’s death, as we seem to pass from one age to another. The role of the aristocracy appears to be on the wane, whilst the importance of the rich merchant seems to be on the rise – more signs that things are changing in this world. It’s another engaging, if at times peculiar, addition to this ongoing story. 4 out of 5.

The Superstition by Angus McAllister

A new author with an anthropological tale. When McCormick fails to return to the expedition spaceship from the Krett village, the rest of the team go looking for why. They are told that he has been taken by the Zungribs, another alien species, of which they have a number of superstitions. When the humans themselves are captured by the Zungribs, the reason for their continued existence in captivity is revealed. A one trick story, but the ending made me laugh. 3 out of 5.

Clay by Paul Jents

The return of an author last seen in Science Fantasy magazine in February 1966. In this story we visit a school where the pupils are learning to shape their thought-patterns. A bullying incident leads the teacher to turn to physically using clay as an alternative. It is the ultimate in worldbuilding, especially when the teacher can take their worlds two million years forward in time through a time furnace to see what happened. The twist in the story is pretty much expected. 3 out of 5.

Synopsis by George Hay

And the return of another author, last seen in Science Fantasy magazine in April 1965. This one is – surprise, surprise! – quite funny. (Regular readers will know how unusual that is for me.)

It is basically written as a two-page recap of a serial story that does not exist, and starts with “NEW READERS START HERE.” In spite of an unpleasant mention of “fiancée-rape”, the story could be pretty much any science fiction story in any of the magazines from the last twenty years or so. To me it reads like a cross between Flash Gordon and EE ‘Doc’ Smith. The use of words in capital letters throughout is wryly amusing. It seems to be written with affection but also with a little jab at what passes for traditional sf. 3 out of 5.

A Visitation of Ghosts by R. W. Mackelworth

The return of a regular author, last seen in Science Fantasy magazine in December 1965.

Boraston works at a school. He hates those he lives and works with and has a secret – he often draws sketches without his deliberate knowledge and he has visions that are premonitions of the future. After experiencing one vision he finds himself actually there, in a school but in some sort of post-apocalyptic future. He is given the job of helping children that are “uncontaminated” through a radiation belt to safety, which may be his reason for being there.

When he gets to the other side, he is sent back to his school to find the point in time where the apocalypse started. He changes things. The story ends with plot lines unresolved, to Boraston’s annoyance.

Despite the bad ending, I liked this one because it is a little different to the usual rockets and aliens in the magazine, although it could be straight out of a “Boys Own” adventure magazine. Something different for Mackelworth. It reminded me of H. G. Wells’ writing, which is not necessarily a bad thing – though again hardly the brave new world of Harrison’s editorial. The characterisation is rather unsophisticated. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

This issue sits firmly in the reasonable category. The Pavane story is as good as ever, the rest is readable yet fairly forgettable. His own work aside, I can’t help feeling that Roberts is filling the magazine with material from the slush pile that’s been there a while. The overall result is that of an issue that’s treading water a little, when I was rather hoping to find something that grabbed my attention more.

And with that, onto this month’s New Worlds, hoping that it is stronger.

The Second Issue At Hand

Having said already that Keith Roberts has too much to do, the cover of New Worlds is another Roberts effort!

A perfunctory Editorial from Moorcock this month. He briefly takes time to point out that there is a number of questions proposed throughout this magazine and asks for reader’s opinions, in the hope of influencing the direction of the magazine in the future, before launching into a series of quick reviews, usually left up to Moorcock’s alter-ego James Colvin.

To the stories!

The God Killers (Part 1 of 2) by John Baxter

Here’s the welcome return of Australian John Baxter, last seen in these pages back in April with Skirmish. This time around, I must admit that I thought the title was a little too provocative, and it is. The story deserves better.

It is a narrative set mainly on the ironically-named planet of Merryland, out on the outer frontier where, after nuclear war, the residents have forsaken God and taken up an alternative religion, that of Satanism. Although focused on Satan, their ways are very Puritan to my mind – most machines are seen as abominations, reading is not something people do for fun and daily life is farm-focused. Of course, anything regarded as a sin is met with harsh punishment.

Amidst this we are introduced to young David Bonython, who is an orphan taken in by the Padgett family and who works on their farm. David is infatuated with Padgett’s daughter Samantha, but she has “gone Christian”, and he is both horrified and attracted by this fallen woman. When David is invited by Samantha to join them in one of their illicit meetings, he is enticed to go in order to spend time with Samantha.

Before this, David finds that in the farm’s attic there is a hidden matter transmitter, from which appears Earthman Hemskir. His use of a matter transmitter is forbidden, as technology of a heretic age, could lead to death or torture for David his friends and family.

We discover that Hemskir is a rogue Proctor wanted for offences against Federal law and the fact that he has stolen a carving of a beetle (like the one on the magazine’s cover this month). David realises that to get Hemskir further support he may need to enlist outside help – such as the Christians from the nearby town of New Harbour Samantha has gone to meet.

He talks to Elton Penn (great name!) who we learned earlier has spent time as an academic scholar on Earth. He is the first contact Merryland has had with Earth in hundreds of years.

The story finishes with David spending the night with Samantha at some kind of Christian ritualistic orgy. When David and Samantha return to the Padgett farm the next day they find Hemskir dead. Someone clearly knows about the forbidden technology and their involvement with it. David tells Samantha about the matter transmitter and threatens to tell her father that she’s “gone Christian” if she tells anyone else about it.

When David leaves the house to tell Penn what has happened, he finds that they have moved on. He follows their tracks for a while and finds a Satanic shrine before taking a rest and falling asleep. He decides to return to the Padgett farm, but on his return finds the farm on fire.

The title really oversells the religious aspect of the narrative. What I actually got was a well-written tale combining religious fanaticism, a teenage coming-of-age story and forbidden technology.
It’s nothing special, but it read well enough. I enjoyed it more than John Brunner’s most recent effort as a serial, and am looking forward to the second half next month. A high 3 out of 5.

Notice how the banner text has become part of the image.
Illustration by James Cawthorn

You: Coma: Marilyn Monroe, by J. G. Ballard

Here’s another one of those stories where Ballard mixes real people with his own brand of multifaceted, fractured weirdness. In April we had John F Kennedy, Malcolm X and Lee Harvey Oswald, this time we have Marilyn Monroe. Still as bizarre as before, as the writing with the artwork at the beginning of the story shows. Ballard continues to mix fact and fiction in his deliberately compressed prose, non-linear fashion.

Lots of pieces of story, admittedly well written from different perspectives, that form an incoherent whole. This still reads like a story extract, using characters such as Karen Novotny that I first read of in The Assassination Weapon, but this time Instead of Kline as the protagonist we now have Tallis.

Much of Ballard’s work is about the repetition of words and images, and it is so here. The prose seems obsessed with geometry and angles, not only those of Karen Novotny, but also of the apartment room she is in. Is this Tallis trying to make sense of the world around him? Possibly. Whatever the story is, I think I am now starting to get how the disparate pieces connect together, but it is deliberately obtuse.

Like the other story, it stays with you after you’ve read it, even if I’m still not entirely sure what it is I’m reading. A bit of a cheat though, in that the story has already been published in the Spring 1966 issue of Ambit magazine. 4 out of 5.

The God-like Niktar
Illustration by Yates

The Gloom Pattern, by Peter Tate

Peter’s last effort was the rather awkward romance Fifth Person Singular in last month’s issue. This story is better, though still not great. Charlie and Nicholas are two bored schoolboys who set themselves a challenge – to make single man Gregory Birtle smile. Alien Niktar, Superemedial Agent to the Sad Sometimers, sends Gregory his secret weapon, to examine “the human reaction to a state where sorrow has been banished and happiness and its attendant joys are the order and the law.” This is a girl robot named Satina. She does manage to bring a smile to Birtle's face, but the ending is a mess. 3 out of 5.

Sub-liminal, by Ernest Hill

Another of Moorcock’s regulars. Clearly meant to be ironic, Sub-liminal is about a politician of the future trying to rig the voting of an election, only to find too late that another deal has been made. The fact that the politician is named Sir Jocelyn Diddimous may say it all. 3 out of 5.

What Passing Bells?, by R. M. Bennett

In a time after a nuclear war, the survivors fight it out amongst themselves. Women are used for entertainment, men are locked away and left for stealing another’s hoard of stuff. It doesn’t end well. This one’s unremittingly bleak and generally unpleasant. Not my cup of tea, but fine for what it was. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

World of Shadows, by S. J. Bounds

In which the most exciting thing is that regular writer of the space-filler, Sydney J Bounds, has now mysteriously become 'S. J. Bounds' on the Contents page.

Would-be gangster Fatso Tate lands on a new planet to start a new life away from the prying eyes of the Patrols wanting to hunt him down. Watching the twin shadows created by the planet’s two suns, he soon finds that the shadows have a life of their own. Readable, but unconvincing. 3 out of 5.

Letters and Book Reviews

A lot of reviews this month prompted by the proliferation of new material, anthologies and reprints. All the reviewers are kept busy this month. James Colvin lists many. He is dissatisfied by Samuel Delany’s work, finding his purple prose “off-putting”, disappointed by Dick, finds himself not a fan of Zenna Henderson’s “brand of sentiment”, refers to Heinlein as “science fiction’s answer to Agatha Christie” and finds the re-issue of Brian Aldiss’s The Canopy of Time as “the best of this month’s whole batch”. Lots and lots of others mentioned as well, though.

James Cawthorn takes on reviewing duties this month as well as his artistic work. He is more positive about Zenna Henderson’s work than Colvin was, and he also covers a wide range of new and old work. Like Colvin’s reviews this month, there are too many to mention individually, but the reviews are entertaining, succinct and insightful.

We have no Letters pages this month – perhaps Moorcock has gone for a lie-down after the recent furores over religion.

Summing up New Worlds

I liked Baxter’s God Killers this month, even if it tries too hard to shock. Ballard still confuses and impresses. Whilst the rest veers between the mundane and the overblown, it is a better issue than last month’s, though still not an outstanding one.

Summing up overall

Is there enough there in either issue to keep the old readers and entice others to pick up an issue? I’m not sure.

In the end, I decided that Impulse was the better of the two, although I could easily see other readers opt for New Worlds.

Until the next…



>While you're waiting, tune in to KGJ, our radio station!  Nothing but the newest and best hits!




[February 12, 1966] Past?  Imperfect.  Future?  Tense. (March 1966 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Straight From the Horse's Mouth

The Noble Editor and my Esteemed Colleagues always do a fine job of informing our fellow Journeyers about what's happening on Earth and in outer space. There is one small piece of news, however, which seems to have escaped notice.

The last episode of Mister Ed appeared on American television screens last week. For those of you fortunate enough not to be familiar with this program, it's about a talking horse.


The star of the program. I believe there are some human actors as well.

I find it remarkable that a show with a premise that does not lend itself to a large number of variations has lasted for more than five years. For those of you who are counting, that's five times as long as the excellent, groundbreaking series East Side/West Side.


George C. Scott as New York City social worker Neil Brock. He doesn't seem happy about being outdone by a loquacious equine.

To add insult to injury, Mister Ed wasn't even original, but an obvious imitation of a series of low budget movies about Francis the Talking Mule, who appeared in no less than seven films from 1950 to 1956.


In Hollywood, changing a talking mule to a talking horse is known as creativity.

How Green Was My Valley

If the success of Mister Ed proves that entertainment was less than perfect in the recent past, a new novel suggests that the future of popular literature may lead to some tension among sensitive readers.


Every Night, Josephine! is a nonfiction book about the author's dog. I can't seem to get away from animals, can I?

Jacqueline Susann's first novel, Valley of the Dolls, appeared in bookstores a couple of days ago. The word on the street is that it is quite racy. I expect the author will earn a fair amount of greenbacks from this fledgling work of fiction.

A Songbird Flies Back

In the world of popular music, even a song a few weeks old can seem dated. A little more than a year ago, multilingual British singer Petula Clark had a Number One hit in the USA with her upbeat number Downtown, which I quite like. I might even say her past success is far from imperfect.

Now she's back with another smash hit. It makes me a little tense to realize that My Love isn't as good a song as Downtown, but I have to admit that the lady can sing, and I wish her more success in the future.


You're going to the top of the charts, dear.

Half a Century for Half a Buck

Given the fact that Fantastic and its sister publication Amazing are now filling their pages with lots of reprints, not all of them classics, we have plenty of evidence that speculative fiction's past hasn't always been perfect. The latest issue goes back in time nearly fifty years, but also features a couple of new works. Appropriately, many of the stories deal with threats from the distant past, while the only futuristic tale describes a tense situation that may confront the people of tomorrow.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul, reprinted from the back cover of the November 1940 issue of Amazing Stories, as shown below.


I don't think this is a very accurate picture of what the surface of the moon Titan might be like.

The Bells of Shoredan, by Roger Zelazny


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

We've already met Dilvish, a warrior who escaped from Hell, a couple of times before. He returns to the material world to defend his homeland, with the aid of a being that takes the form of a steel talking horse. (There's that again! Francis and Ed, what hath thou wrought?)

In this adventure, he journeys to the ruins of an incredibly ancient, seemingly deserted citadel. His quest is to ring enchanted bells that will summon soldiers from the limbo where they have been trapped for an immense amount of time. Along the way, he acquires a temporary companion in the form of a priest.


The unlikely pair witness a ghostly battle.

Dilvish is an intriguing character, and the author gives readers just enough information about his past to make them want to know more. This sword-and-sorcery yarn is full of imaginative supernatural happenings and plenty of action. I could quibble about the author's attempt to sound archaic — he has a habit of inserting the word did before verbs in order to sound old-fashioned — but that's a minor point. Overall, it's a solid example of the form. I'd place it somewhere between Robert E. Howard and Fritz Leiber, and a little bit higher than John Jakes.

Four stars.

Hardly Worth Mentioning, By Chad Oliver


Cover art by W. T. Mars.

From the pages of the May/June 1953 issue of the magazine comes this tale of unexpected rivals of humanity from the mists of prehistory.


Illustrations by Ernie Barth.

A team of archeologists digging in rural Mexico discovers a plastic disk in a layer of soil from pre-Columbian times. The apparent paradox leads the protagonist to discover that another humanoid species, distinct from Homo sapiens, has been directing human history since the beginning. They even have the ability to travel in time, in order to correct little mistakes, like leaving the plastic disk where it could be found centuries later.


An army of the time travelers arrives in an ancient Indian village.

When the archeologist discovers the truth, the humanoids hurt him in the worst way possible. Knowing that he cannot fight them directly, he resolves to protect the future of humanity in a different way.

The author is an anthropologist by profession, so his portrait of the related field of archeology is completely convincing. The price the protagonist must pay for learning too much carries a powerful emotional impact. I was pleased and surprised to find out that the story avoids a melodramatic battle between the two species, but instead ends in a quiet, hopeful, bittersweet fashion.

Four stars.

Axe and Dragon (Part Three of Three), by Keith Laumer


Illustration by Gray Morrow.

In the first two parts of this novel, we journeyed with our hero, one Lafayette O'Leary, into another reality, that he seemed to create through self-hypnosis. After many wild adventures, he wound up getting blamed for the disappearance of a beautiful princess. Now he sets out to rescue her from a legendary ogre and his dragon.

This segment starts off with an even more comedic tone than the others, bordering on the just plain silly. Lafayette meets with some folks who are obviously intended to be cartoon versions of Arabs. They remind me of a famous novelty song from a few years ago, Ahab the Arab, by comic singer Ray Stevens. As an example of the goofiness, at a feast they not only consume Chinese and Hawaiian dishes, but bottles of Pepsi.

Anyway, Lafayette goes on to acquire a loyal steed in the form of a friendly dinosaur, and finally meets the ogre. The ogre has a very strange brother indeed. After an unexpected scene of bloody violence in such a lighthearted story, Lafayette returns to the palace. He meets an old rival, learns the truth about the king's mysterious wizard, saves the princess, discovers who was behind her kidnapping, finds out about his own special background, and gets the girl (although maybe not in the way you'd expect.)

The whole thing moves at a furious, breakneck pace, so that you don't realize it doesn't always make a whole lot of sense. Lafayette's ability to change reality, for example, seems to come and go, depending on how the author needs to propel the plot. There's a scientific explanation, of sorts, from the so-called wizard about what's really going on, but it might as well just be pure magic. It's entertaining enough to keep you reading, but hardly substantial.

Three stars.

Keep Out, by Fredric Brown


Cover art by Clarence Doore.

The March 1954 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this brief tale, from a master of the short-short story.


Illustration by John Schoenherr.

From birth, a group of people are bred to survive on the surface of Mars. The narrator is one of these folks, and reveals their plans.

Some of Brown's tiny tales are masterpieces of a very difficult form. This one is not. I saw the twist ending coming. Maybe you will, too.

Two stars.

The People of the Pit, by A. Merritt


I have been unable to find out who drew this cover.

We jump back to the January 5, 1918 issue of All-Story Weekly for yet another yarn about danger from the remote past. It was reprinted in the March 1927 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul.

Some folks head for a remote part of the Arctic in search of gold. A man who is nearly dead crawls to their campsite and relates his strange story.

It seems that there is an immense pit, bigger than the Grand Canyon, beyond a chain of mountains. Not only that, but a gigantic set of stairs, carved in the remote past, leads down into it.

The fellow descends into the pit, and encounters bizarre beings who enslave him. He tells how he finally escaped, and managed to crawl his way back up to the surface.


Illustration by Martin Gambee.

This story reminds me of H. P. Lovecraft, with its unimaginably old structures and creatures who are almost beyond the ability of the human mind to conceive. Given the original date of publication, I presume Lovecraft was influenced by it. The author creates a genuine sense of weirdness and menace. The old-fashioned use of a narrative-within-a-narrative slows things down a bit, and it's mostly description rather than plot, but it's not bad at all.

Three stars.

Your Soul Comes C.O.D., by Mack Reynolds


Cover art by Leo Summers and Ed Valigursky.

Once you get beyond the face of Joseph Stalin on the front of the March 1952 issue of Fantastic Adventures, you'll find the original appearance of this variation on a very old theme.


Illustration by Leo Summers.

A guy intends to summon a demon in order to exchange his soul for a good life. Before he can even perform the necessary ritual, however, a being appears, ready to make a deal. The man gains forty years of true love, prosperity, and a happy family. When it comes time to pay the price, he finds out what he bargained for.

A story like this depends entirely on the twist in the tail. I have to admit that the author took me by surprise and came up with a new version of the sell-your-soul premise.

Three stars.

How Did You Enjoy Today's Grammar Lesson?

Example of the past imperfect: I was reading Fantastic magazine yesterday.

Example of the future tense: I will finish this article today.

Well, that may not be the best way to study the structure of English, but it gives me something to think about while I sum up my feelings about this issue. For the most part, it was pretty good. Only the Fredric Brown reprint was disappointing, because I expected more from him. There was a good old story, and a good new story. The rest of the stuff was decent filler.

If you don't care for the way I'm acting like a language instructor, maybe you'd prefer something a little more technologically advanced.


Don't blame me if you don't like math.



The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.




[January 31, 1966] Milk of Magnesia (February 1966 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Hornet's Nest

Last month, I wrote a rather savage review of the January 1966 issue of Analog, one of the more egregious examples of Campbellian excess married with an aggrieving nadir of quality.  In short order, my mailbox was deluged with denouncing letters asserting that:

  • Campbell, as the genius who founded modern Science Fiction, could do no wrong
  • I clearly could never understand why people appreciated Analog

It is instructive that when I give an issue of Analog a favorable review, which happens reasonably often, my mailbox stays empty.  But disparage the mighty Campbell at your peril!  Such are the occupational hazards of the Reviewer.

Anyway, what goes down must come up, and this month's issue of Analog is actually pretty good.  Let's take a look at the final mag of the month, shall we?

The issue at hand


by Kelly Freas

The Searcher, by James H. Schmitz

Two guards at an interstellar space port watch with momentary horror as a purple cloud of radiation erupts from a star yacht and devours them in an instant.  The alien marauder has traveled light years, from the dense nebula known as The Pit, in search of a purloined navigational beacon.  Meanwhile, a local professor with an eye to make a buck, is preparing to fence said beacon, hoping to do so before two private agents hired by the University League thwart his plans.

Thus ensues first a cloak and dagger story followed by a crime thriller and topped off with a mad chase from alien horror.


by Kelly Freas

I was excited to see James H. Schmitz' name on the cover as he's written some of my favorite works.  He also has a preference for writing women protagonists, which is refreshing. I'm afraid my review of this piece must be somewhat alloyed.  The concept is great, the characters are interesting, and I enjoyed the piece.  But.

I think the biggest problem with The Searcher is its length.  Had this been a novel length story, Schmitz could have unfolded the mystery of the alien's existence and motivations more organically, rather than relying on straightforward exposition.  We get a lot of solid chunks of explanation interspersing the action.  And it's certainly not the case that Schmitz can't write action; he does so quite admirably, beginning with the very first scene. 

Had I received this manuscript, I'd have asked for an expanded rewrite — and been happy to publish it!

As is, it's a promising but uneven three star work.

The Switcheroo Revisited, by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

A rather bumbling young Lieutenant in the KGB is dispatched to the United States to find a marvelous invention first depicted in the pages of a science fiction magazine (name unknown, but I think it starts with an A).  He's intercepted by the CIA, but rather than simply arrest him, instead they do their best to convince the agent that the fictional invention is real.  There's a cautionary sting at the end of the story.

Cute, but rather trivial for Reynolds.  I do enjoy how the author has woven a future history of the Superpowers, though, based on his extensive world travels.  The geopolitics and slang lend a tang of verisimilitude. Three stars.

Twin-Planet Probe, by Lee Correy

This is a fun piece that purports to report the results of the first Martian probe to the twin worlds of Earth and Luna, written so as to mirror the sparse and potentially misleading data obtained from Mariner 4.  The moral of the story is that we don't have enough data to make sweeping conclusions yet.

Four stars (and let's get some more data!)

An Ornament to His Profession, by Charles L. Harness

Patrick Conrad, once a chemist, later an attorney, and now a patent lawyer, is a haunted man.  Three years ago, he lost his chemist wife and their young daughter in a car accident.  This trauma has left him in something of a working daze, redoubling his vocational efforts in an effort to put the pain out of his mind.

His current problem: the patenting of a company chemical is threatened from several corners, most trivially by the impending poaching of Conrad's highly efficient secretary by another department, more seriously by a key team member's certainty that he has made a deal with the Devil to ensure success of the chemical's synthesis, and most critically by the revelation that the patent is based on a previously published college thesis.

Conrad must untangle all of these intertwined issues, all while wrestling with the pain of loss that seems also to be directly involved with the patent somehow.


by Kelly Freas

While Charles Harness is a name that may be unfamiliar to you, as it is a byline that has not appeared in more than a decade, Analog readers will certainly remember "Leonard Lockhard", a pseudonym for the combined talents of Harness and Theodore L. Thomas, who currently writes for F&SF.  I'm pretty sure Harness is a patent attorney in real life as his knowledge of the law seems prodigious.

In any event, Ornament is a beautiful story, lyrical and thoughtful — almost misplaced in this magazine, honestly.  I'm not quite sure I understood the ending, though I reread the piece to see if I had missed something; I may have simply missed a subtle reference.  In any event, it's my favorite story of the issue.

Four stars.

Minds Meet, by Paul Ash


by Kelly Freas

Lastly, we have the welcome return of Pauline Ashwell (a Campbell discovery from England who goes by both feminine and masculine bylines for some reason).  In this tale, a human and alien finally achieve true communication after seven years of frustratingly dissatisfying, if technically successful, discourse.  All it took was a little filthy intoxication.

A pleasant three stars.

Summing up

I'm sorry to disappoint those hoping to yell at me for "not understanding why people like Analog", but I liked this month's Analog.  Indeed, this issue virtually ties the (similarly returned to form) latest issue of Galaxy with a 3.4 rating, the best of the month.  Close behind are New Worlds (3.2), Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1), and Science Fantasy (3).

Only IF (2.9) and Amazing (2.1) finished below the mediocrity line, and IF has the new Heinlein serial to commend it.

We are back to late 50s levels of female engagement in the genre: 10.2% of the new fiction was by women.  There was also a full two magazines' worth of superior content this month, more than twice as much as in December.  It really was a pleasure to be a fan this first month of January 1966!

Let's see how February fares…



The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well!  If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article!  Thank you for your continued support.




[December 31, 1965] Untermag (January 1966 Analog


by Gideon Marcus

[Time is running out to get your Worldcon membership!  Register here to be able to vote for the Hugos next year.]

Ubermensch

There's no question that John W. Campbell's got an axe to grind.  Not too long ago, he wrote an editorial about how the bipedal humanoid form, the best, most efficient, most effective of body types, was the natural end result of evolution on an Earthlike planet.  In another screed, he opined that slavery warn't so bad, and that Black Americans did better ante-bellum than we think.

These aren't anomalies: from what Isaac Asimov and others have said (I've never met John personally), the editor of Analog has some very fixed views of the world, and they include a belief in a hierarchy of races, a natural superiority of some to others.

Because of this, the stories in his magazine tend to reflect this view, one way or another.  Either John adds these elements in post-production, or his authors know to include them as a way to guarantee a sale. Analog is a prestige publication, after all.

And lest you think that's John's quaint views are simply emblematic of the less-than-enlightened times we live in, I will simply point out that we review all science fiction mags at the Journey, and Analog definitely is the odd man out.

Anyway, this month's magazine is a particularly egregious example of the Campbellian Mystique.  Let's dig in, shall we?

Sein Kampf


by Kelly Freas

Second Seeded, by R. C. FitzPatrick


by Kelly Freas

In FitzPatrick's earlier story Half a Loaf, we were introduced to a revolutionary institute whose surgeons could transplant a healthy mind from a ruined body into the healthy body of a mental vegetable.  The story explored some of the ethical concerns involved and, while it didn't hit it out of the park, it was pretty interesting.

The sequel is dreadful.

A Marine Major, name of Adams, is killed along with his wife in action in Borneo.  Their infant son becomes brain dead from hypoxia, all hope of regaining cognitive functions lost.  Around the same time, the infant son of two concert pianists is in a car accident that kills his parents and leaves him a quadriplegic.  Thus, the stage is set for a human brain transplant; the new wrinkle is that the patient won't have memory of the event, will be raised by the extended Adams clan.

This would be fine, even interesting save for the endless screeds in favor of eugenics that come out of the mouths of the protagonist.  The basic argument is that there aren't enough "Great Men" in the world as it is (women, explicitly, don't count) so saving as many as possible through this surgical technique is of utmost importance.  Beyond that, it's vital that the transplanted infant brain be an Adams because the Adams family is amazing and has been so since the time of the Revolution.  As an "Adams," the pianist boy will not only be an exemplary person because his parents were prodigies, but his gonads will house Adams sperm, which will ensure the Adams genes continue.  The espouser of this view gets a bit vague and contradictory when asked if it's the actual genetics or simply the continuity of family that ensures the Adamses produce a Great Man every generation, but it's clear he tends toward the former (and this is borne out by events in the story). 

Two stars rather than one, because it's not badly written.  But yech.

Now, since I had to pay to read FitzPatrick and Campbell's offensive rant, you can get mine for free.  In my experience, all human beings are of roughly equal potential.  Sure, there are smart ones and stupid ones — abilities distribute in bell curves — but whether a person will be smart or stupid does not correlate to genetics.  This means that everyone, given resources and opportunity, can develop to the fullest of their physical capabilities.  They can be as smart, strong, and talented as is possible for them. 

There are almost three billion people on this planet.  Some of them are stupid.  Most of them are average.  Some of them are brilliant.  If we want more "Great Men", there are much better ways of growing them than cherry picking a few children with presidential surnames. 

One is to raise the standard of living for everyone so that all children have the ability to develop to their full potential.  LBJ has the right idea with his Great Society; I expect the next generation will see a lot more geniuses (and happiness) in Appalachia. 

Another is to broaden the pool from which "Great Men" are drawn.  Here's a crazy thought: what if women weren't excluded from the pool?  Wouldn't that, in and of itself, double the number of Great "Men"?  And indeed, that's just what's started to happen already.  I have written about the women scientists and engineers involved in space exploration.  Their work has been critical to the success of our space-related endeavors, and there is no guarantee that their contributions would have (or could have) been made by anyone else, at least at that juncture in history.

So I disagree with the the theme of Second Seeded.  Like all bad philosophies, it collapses in the face of empirical evidence to the contrary.  And on a related note, I disagree that future Presidents of the United States will all have to have socially acceptable WASP names like Adams, Lincoln, and Jackson (as one of the characters opines in the story).  Does anyone remember the fellow with the funny name of "Eisenhower"?  Or the Irish Catholic name of "Kennedy"?

I fully believe that we'll have a President in my lifetime with the "exotic" name of Takahashi, Singh, or Okoye.  Perhaps her first name will be Mildred.

Untropy, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

Shaggy dog tale about a trading vessel that gets lost in hyperspace in a zone where the laws of probability leave nothing to chance.  The way they get back is obvious, and the story is rather trivial, but it's not bad reading.

Three stars.

A Bit Player, by Lyle R. Hamilton

All about the evolution of telemetry and its application to missiles and space travel.  Long, engaging, but way too high level for me (and I majored in astrophysics!) it will probably go over your head as well.

Three stars.

Kelvin Throop Rudes Again!, by E. Silverman

My outspoken nephew, David, has a habit of dashing out discourteous memos when he's peeved.  He calls them "nastygrams".  In Throop, new author Silverman offers up a collection of memos (it's not really an epistolary story as there's no story) of a middle manager kvetching at subordinates and vendors.

Not science fiction.  Not good.  One star.

Beehive (Part 2 of 2), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

And, at last, the conclusion of Beehive, which began last issue.  Genetics takes the fore again when we learn that the enemy "Dawnworlders" have divided themselves into rigid castes, and in so doing, have thus been able to progress to tremendous technological heights.  Of course, if non-caste human beings had been given millions of years to accomplish the same feats, I'm sure we could have…

Anyway, the second half of the story is just as glib and silly as the first, with lots of speeches and exposition.  I did appreciate that there was some self awareness that Section G of the United Planets is as much a dictatorship as Phrygia, home of Baron Max, the would-be galactic Mussolini.  This was alloyed by the constant reinforcement that the protagonist's sidekick is an Indian.  He's referred to as "the Indian" and he uses the words "squaw," "scalp," and "firewater," whenever he can.

This isn't the first time Mack Reynolds has had trouble with this particular ethnicity.

Anyway, there are some interesting Laumeresque bits, but for the most part, this is a Reynolds that can be skipped.

Two stars.

Calculating the damage

Feeding the pages of the January 1966 Analog into the Star-o-meter (and setting the machine to "destroy copy after processing") I get a result of 2.3 stars.  Depressingly, I'm sure this will be one of the more popular issues of the magazine this year.

How did the other mags fare this month?  Well, Worlds of Tomorrow and New Worlds both scored 3.3 stars.  The less daring Science Fantasy got 2.8 as did IF, even though the latter was buouyed by the new Heinlein serial.  Fantasy & Science Fiction turned in a disappointing 2.5 star performance, and the mostly reprints Fantastic barely got 2.4.

They were still all better than Analog.

Speaking of shallow selection pools, women continue to be barely represented, producing two of 36 fiction pieces for a whopping 5.5% share.  Better than the 0% of last month, I suppose.  All told, the truly good stories this month would struggle to fill the pages of IF, much less a bigger mag like Galaxy

Well, tomorrow is a new year.  Perhaps Janus will favor us with auspicious auguries, and our fortunes will turn around.  And hey…Campbell won't live forever.