by John Boston
Last issue, the good news was that the customary editorial was dropped. In this October Amazing, there’s more good news—the self-serving letter column is gone too. Since there are only four items of fiction here, it makes for a scanty contents page. That is not necessarily bad.
by Frank R. Paul
The cover is by Frank R. Paul, captioned Martian Spaceships Invade New York, reprinted from the back cover of the May 1941 Amazing. Like last issue’s cover by James B. Settles, it is significantly cropped from the original. The image also bears a very superficial similarity to last issue’s cover. The difference between Paul and Settles, though, calls to mind Mark Twain’s remark about the difference between the lightning and the lightning-bug. Even in his waning days, Paul did archaic style with class.
Ensign Flandry, by Poul Anderson
The main reason for the sparse contents page is the very long (100 pages) feature item, Poul Anderson’s Ensign Flandry. Anderson began his series about Flandry, intelligence agent of the Terran Empire, desultorily, producing four shorter stories from 1951 to 1958. Then there was a spasm of three novellas for Fantastic and Amazing in 1959 and 1960, all of which were transformed almost instantly into Ace Doubles. Last year, however, most of the Flandry canon was compiled into hardcover collections from Chilton, Flandry of Terra and Agent of the Terran Empire.
Now Flandry is back with this novel, which suggests that Anderson intends to spin him into a character with the raffishness of James Bond and the career longevity of Horatio Hornblower, providing a framework and formula for potboilers as far as the eye can see. That’s a fine plan for the author but not so good for the reader looking for something more than product.
by Gray Morrow
So: Ensign Flandry, age 19, is dispatched to Starkad, a remote planet inhabited by a seafaring species, the Tigery, and a sea-dwelling species, the Seatrolls, who are fighting a sort of proxy war, backed by the Terran Empire and Merseia respectively, with overtones (emphasis on the “overt”) of the Cold War and Vietnam.
Flandry is there with his wise mentor, and they are trying to neutralize the soft-on-Merseia peacenik who is nominally on their side. There is a lot of intrigue and double-dealing and opportunity for Flandry to be in danger and distinguish himself and become the bigger shot we’ve seen in the earlier stories. Anderson being the professional he is, there’s a secret and a revelation at the end that trumps everything else that’s been going on, distinguishing the work from the wholly formulaic. But still—it’s mostly formulaic, maybe decent airport reading if your plane is delayed. Two stars.
The Space Witch, by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
The Space Witch, by Walter M. Miller, Jr., from the November 1951 Amazing, is a piece of work, in the more extreme sense of that phrase. Protagonist Kenneth Johnson has invited his ex-wife Marcia and her new milquetoast husband for a stay at his lake cottage. His feelings are still raw, and Marcia is a self-centered and manipulative sexpot. The overwrought psychodrama is interrupted by a mysterious dark cloud which generates an intense local storm, causing Ken and Marcia to take refuge in his boat as a gleaming metallic sphere appears and Marcia decompensates (“Own me like a piece of furniture, Kennie. That’s what I want to be.”).
by Edward Valigursky
The boat gets sucked out into the lake, Marcia drowns, Ken gets pulled into the sphere, and Marcia reappears, except it’s not really Marcia. “We found it necessary to adopt her image, because she was the only thinkhuman [sic] available for detailed biosimulation.” Non-Marcia explains that she is a fugitive from her race and has been hiding on the Moon for 30 years watching Earth, but now her kin-aliens have tracked her down and are about to destroy the area for 150 miles around. There ensues a discussion of options for preserving themselves and half of New England, which turns into more and higher-volume psychodrama and back-stabbing, and an ending that can only be described as twisted. Miller’s first story, Secret of the Death Dome, was a bit crazy. This one is a lot crazy, and Miller is getting better at crazy. Three stars.
Mr. Dimmitt Seeks Redress, by Miles J. Breuer
Miles J. Breuer’s Mr. Dimmitt Seeks Redress (from the August 1936 Amazing) is about as tiresome as its title. Mr. Dimmitt is a mild-mannered shrimp of a scientist. His wife and children have been killed in a car accident caused by the reckless driving of the rich bully Graw. Back in the lab, Dimmitt is accidentally exposed to an experimental substance that drastically slows time for him. Initially he is frightened. “He had read of persons who had tried a dose of cannabis indicia [sic] having terrifying experiences from the effects of the drug. Was the effect of this thing going to be permanent?” It isn’t, but he doses himself again, goes out for a walk, sees Graw speeding (crawling, to Dimmitt) towards his house, and grabs Graw’s young son who is playing in the yard and puts him in the path of the car, too close to stop. The gimmicky story has a gimmicky ending. Two stars.
Eddie for Short, by Wallace West
Wallace West, he of the appalling The Last Man, seems to have learned some things in the course of two decades. In Eddie for Short (from the December 1953-January 1954 issue), World War III seems to have killed everybody except Lita, a lounge singer in Miami, whose husband has just died of radiation poisoning at his post in the radio station that is broadcasting her, leaving everything going. So, having not much else to do, she keeps on singing every night.
by Ernie Barth
Then, one night . . . someone is following her. It’s Verna, a Negro woman from Key West, who speaks in a thick stereotypical accent, and who has heard Lita on the radio and trekked to Miami in search of her. She’s going to take care of Lita, which is a good thing, since Lita turns out to be pregnant. So Verna takes care of the household chores while Lita “literally hurl[s] herself” at the City Library and then at the local university, educating herself, since now it seems the world is not going to end (she’s convinced herself she’s carrying twins of opposite sex).
It’s easy to make fun of this story’s racial stereotypes, but hey, it’s not bad for 1953, and West means well. Also he’s a lot better writer than he was in 1929, and he’s still at it (he hit Analog and Magazine of Horror last year). So, some positive reinforcement: three stars.
Summing Up
For a change, the reprinted material (some of it) has more going for it than the new material, and neither is too awful. It’s a relief.
(And don't forget to tune in tonight at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings) for the world television premier of Star Trek!)