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[Sept. 26, 1961] Sense of Adventure (Andre Norton's Catseye)

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by Rosemary Benton

Catseye is the short, but very well written, science fiction novel from the pen of the legendary Andre Norton.  I'm ashamed to say that I haven't experienced much of Norton's writing myself, although her fans sing her praise joyfully and have repeatedly recommended her titles to me.  Reading the back cover of Catseye while in my town's book store, I had to berate myself for not looking into her before.  If half of what her book promised was true, then here was an author that I could fully invest in.  I was not disappointed.

In this new installment of Norton's ever growing bibliography we meet Troy Horan, a young man who, like many of his generation, was displaced from his homeworld because of The War of the Two Sectors.  Bitterly fought until a stalemate was realized, the War rewrote galactic geography and national boundaries, forcing many to live in semi permanent statelessness.  On the planet Korwar, people like Troy live in slums called the Dipple.  Norton ascribes a bleak and uncertain future to those of the Dipple.  They can contract to be shipped off-world to some unknown fate, acquire a work permit that will allow them to find short term meager employment in northern Tikil, or they can buy their way into the booming underground Thieves Guild organization.  Luckily for Troy, his legacy as a former colonist of Norden allows him to snatch a temp position at a pet shop that caters to the upper echelons of the planet. 

Being from the well known herding society of Norden, Troy has an uncanny affinity to animals.  The levels of his skill with beasts surprises even himself after he learns that he can communicate telepathically with a select few of the animals at his employer's establishment.  The small menagerie of highly intelligent animals, including the foxes Sargon and Sheba, the cats Sahiba and Simba, and Shang the kinkajou, draw Troy into a maelstrom of conspiracies and death.  Troy must decide whether to do what is right or what will best help him survive. 

Catseye is most impressive in three ways.  First and foremost, the quality of the narrative can not be overlooked.  In perfect harmony with the otherworldly environment, Norton peppers original sayings, phrases and honorifics into her writing.  The end result is a narrative that makes the reader feel like they are experiencing events within the actual mind of our protagonist. 

This is not an easy task for writers.  I can't impress how often I've read science fiction and fantasy only to see this common issue of inconsistency with language.  For example, in Catseye a “flitter” is a ship and “patroller” refers to the police.  This unique dialect creates a flow in the story that makes the reader feel like they are really experiencing a story from another time and place.  Take this paragraph from chapter 2:

“There were pedestrians, a crowd of them, gathering.  But until they knew that this was not some private challenge-fight, none would call a patroller.  By drawing his belt-knife instead of trying for a stunner, Zul had labeled this a meeting-of-honor, unorthodox as its setting may be”.

With only the barest of context Norton has created a scene that is understandable, yet distinctly foreign.  It's a truly gifted writer who can fabricate dialects and weave them so well into their narrative.

The second way in which Norton goes above and beyond is in her tight story structure.  Again, writing a good novel is an art, and being able to sufficiently sum up important plot points without becoming side tracked is an essential element of good craftsmanship.  In the first chapter Norton establishes the history of the world she has created, introduces our protagonist and sets him on the path to his new employer.  The first half of the book is a steady build toward the chase, capture and escape of Troy and the animals back into the wilds.  The book concludes with room for a sequel or at least tie in novels.  Personally, I hope to see Norton build the world of Catseye into something more.  With her succinct ability to set up environments, plot and characters I would love to learn more about the events that led to and occurred during The War of the Two Sectors, clearly modeled after the events of The Great War. 

Third, and most importantly, the deeply resonating themes of Catseye make it a must read work of science fiction.  This is a book that not only questions the ethics of moral rightness versus survival, but the lives of displaced people.  Last month when I reviewed Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land I bemoaned the fact that Heinlein did not try out his proposed social and moral constructs outside of largely intellectual conversations between characters.  Norton, on the other hand, accompanies words with actions.  While her prose are not as poetic as Zenna Henderson, she has a knack for incorporating astute observations at just the right moments.  Take this instance in chapter 4:

“He had early learned in the hard school of the Dipple that knowledge could be both a weapon and a defense, and something as nebulous and beyond reason as his odd mental meeting with two different species of Terran life he preferred to keep to himself”.

In chapter 6 the world building continues with Norton's point about the necessity of keeping the ugly business surrounding the psychic animals away from the pleasurable aspects of high and comfortable society:

“As long as we can keep Korwar as a pleasant haven for the overlords of other worlds, some of them the greed-wrecked ones, we can hold this one inviolate.  One does not want such desolation in one’s own back yard.  So far those of the villas have the power, the wealth, to retain Korwar as their unspoiled play place.”

For a first introduction to Andre Norton's works, Catseye is an exceptional read.  It has heart, it has style, and it has philosophy backing it up at just the right moments.  I really hope that I can find more from Norton regarding Troy and his journey as a new, free man.  The concept is fresh, and let's face it — as kids and even adults, wouldn't we love to have Troy's power and know what's going on in the minds of our pets?

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[August 23, 1961] Lost in translation (Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land)

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by Rosemary Benton

I enjoy my science fiction in the evenings, when I can open the windows and let my tortoise, Mabel, out of her cage to meander around my condominium.  Both of us love these night time relaxations as a way to expunge stress and enjoy new environments.  For me, I get the opportunity to stretch my mind with speculative fiction, while Mabel enjoys the more humble tortoise pleasure of exploring nooks and crannies. 

On one such recent evening I looked at Mabel and felt a coincidental connection between our activities. For whatever reason, she was choosing to repeatedly walk in a wobbly circle from the couch to the table, to the wall, to the bookshelf, and then back to the couch.  This wouldn't have struck me so powerfully except for the fact that I was reading Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein.  Like Mabel, I was not only willingly subjecting myself to drudgery, but I was engaged in a circular story that felt like it was going nowhere.

The premise of Stranger is interesting enough.  Conceived on Mars and raised by the Old Ones (the elders and collective holders of all Martian knowledge), Valentine Michael “Mike” Smith is the sole survivor of a scientific expedition sent from Earth to study the Red Planet.  Approximately 25 years and one world war later, mankind again makes a trip to Mars where they find Michael alive and well under the care of the Martians.  Mike makes the voyage back to Earth under the strict order of his surrogate parents, whereupon he is first taken to a hospital for observation by a purposefully all male staff. With his legal status up in the air, Smith is stuck between the odd position of being the Sovereign of Mars or a citizen of Earth's World Federation of Free Nations.  Eventually smuggled out of the hospital, Mike begins his life on Earth under the tutelage of his liberator, his lawyer, and his other “water-brothers”.  Stranger is the story of a man flung into an odd world of concepts, theories and rules, and the journey he takes to “grok” humanity and heal mankind of its self-inflicted wounds.

This is the story of the creation of a culture that is an amalgamation of human nature and Martian ideas.  It makes sense that on an Earth such as Heinlein creates, where religion is a powerful entity politically and socially, the journey of the main character would be one of a religious awakening.  A religious story of a naive boy growing into an enlightened man is virtually a cliche, but in the hands of the right author it can be given fresh life.  Was Heinlein the right author for this? Sort of. 

Despite my initial expectations about a story that promised to be part “coming of age” and part “survival in an alien culture”, Stranger in a Strange Land is a tedious read.  The first 200 pages are an almost moment-by-moment recount of The Man from Mars being brought to Earth, escaping the hospital with the help of a nurse named Gillian “Jill” Boardman, meeting her associate Jubal Harshaw, coming to trust Jubal and having lengthy and repetitive conversations with him as a burgeoning father figure/lawyer/interpreter/guide to human nature.

Often a conversation between characters will read like a transcript of a classrom group discussion set in wherein one person is the primary speaker and the rest of the group contributes small insights or asks for clarification.  Then the whole topic will be reintroduced, but from a different angle. It is immensely dry to read.

Heinlein takes great care to describe Mike's inner voice and his difficulty “grokking” or grasping human logic and concepts.  Slowly he teases out the special powers of perception and control over physics that Mike learned from the Martians.  At first, sections written from the perspective of Mike's mind were the most anticipated parts of the novel, but as Mike adapted and became more “human” in his thinking, the intrigue of his mind's workings likewise faded. 

Stranger contains a sizable cast of side characters including, but not limited to, the founder of the highly influential Church of the New Revelation (Fosterite), the Muslim semanticist Dr. "Stinky" Mahmoud, and Jubal Harshaw's three secretaries, Anne, Dorcas, and Miriam.  Numerous, yes, but not well-developed.  Very little is given as to the pasts of these or any of Heinlein's characters.

Indeed, aside from the snake handler and tattoo aficionado Patricia “Patty” Paiwonski, they are all shadows compared to the protagonist: Mike is the most rounded character given the necessity of explaining portions of his Martian upbringing.  Everyone else begins their arcs in the immediate present, and continues on from there.  I found this to be the most frustrating part of Stranger in a Strange Land (aside from the circular nature of many of the characters' interactions) for the simple fact that it doesn't give you much to grasp.  If the concept of a science fiction Mowgli-turned-philosopher type main character isn't enough to hold your interest for over 400 pages, you are somewhat out of luck, I'm afraid.

That being said, Stranger in a Strange Land's readability does significantly improve in the second half of the book.  As I mentioned earlier, Patty Paiwonski is introduced during the journeying stage of Mike's self-realization.  Not only does she grow to become an important member of Mike's Church of All Worlds but she is nearly 50 years old, covered in religious tattoos and artwork from the neck down, and described as, “associat[ing] with grifters and sinners unharmed” (271).

It is also at this point that the book really begins to dig into the complexities and issues of church-founding, culture versus religion, and the practice of Mike's teachings. Sex, God, the differences between men and women, all of this and more is played out in a far more digestible pace than in the early half of the book.

Jill Boardman's character really comes into her own as she finds liberation from social constraints with Mike's help.  Working as a showgirl while Mike is out amongst the population of America, she learns to enjoy her own body, feels the shame of voyeuristic tendencies fall away, and even takes on the role of teacher to Mike.  Through her he groks how to achieve the one thing he hasn't been able to feel – laughter.  Despite how interesting her transformation is from jealously guarding Mike to happily sharing him, her lessons at times can rub the reader in the wrong way.

For me it was hard to read about Mike's understanding of homosexuality. “ Mike would grok a “wrongness” in the poor in-betweeners anyhow – they would never be offered water” (303).  The fact that Heinlein acknowledges homosexuality is heartening.  There is very little mainstream fiction that addresses homosexuality with anything other than fear and contempt, but despite offering a kind of understanding and sympathy, it's piteous and exclusionary. T o never be offered water in the realm of Stranger means to never be offered the closeness and community that leads to ultimate happiness and physical well being.

The role of women in Mike's grokking of Earth is another point which unfolds in an intriguing but ultimately controversial way.  Jill's understanding of rape is highly repugnant.  I, for one, do not believe Jill's explanation that, “Nine times out of 10, if a girl gets raped, it's partly her fault” (304).

The strengthening of female minds and bodies is likewise seen by the handyman, Sam, as something that will cause problems for society.  “When a female conceives only as an act of volition, when she is immune to disease…and has her orientation so changed that she desires intercourse with a whole-heartedness that Cleopatra never dreamed of – but any male who tried to rape her would die so quickly, if she so grokked, that he wouldn't know what hit him?  When women are free of guilt and fear – but invulnerable?  Hell, the pharmaceutical industry will be a minor casualty – what other industries, laws, institutions, attitudes, prejudices, and nonsense must give way?” (401).

Jill's view on rape is never tested in a real case.  The societal outcome of women heartening their minds and bodies is not explored on a large scale.  In fact, precious little is.  While Stranger proposes a (somewhat) better society, it doesn't explore what such a society would look like in action outside of a small commune.

This is not to say that Stranger in a Strange Land isn't worth a read.  Though painful, dense and not altogether enjoyable, Stranger does have is noteworthy points.  The eroticism and communal living present titillating ideas.  Nevertheless, it feels claustrophobic with Heinlein's view of a conflict-less world.  In this is Heinlein's ultimate failing – there is just too little conflict in Stranger.  Society just effortlessly adapts and molds itself to Mike's teachings which, at the end of the day, all come from the philosophies of wealthy and well off people. 

To bring everything back to my earlier question of whether Heinlein was the right author to breathe new life into the story of religious awakening – Stranger in a Strange Land had the ideas, but is too verbose and simple.  Frankly, I'll stick with Heinlein for his Starship Troopers material.  He does far better when he allows himself to couch his moralizing in action adventure than when he presents unadorned explorations into the origins of cultural identity or the dissection of human nature.

Two and a half stars.  Five for originality.  One for execution.

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[July 17, 1961] Bridging two worlds (The animation, Alakazam the Great)

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And here is Ms. Rosemary Benton with her monthly report, this time on a subject near and dear to my heart: Japan…

July 14th was a red letter day for me.  Not only did I receive word that my uncle was marrying his long time Japanese girlfriend, Mika, but Alakazam The Great was released in theaters across America.  This film is a beautiful piece of animation from Toei Animation Company Ltd. 

Released in Japan in August last year under the title Journey to the West, the story of Alakazam the Great is actually a retelling of a very old and popular tale from China known as Saiyuuki.  Scholars of this 16th century morality epic will recognize Sun Wukong in our protagonist, Alakazam, as well as his dealings with the Buddha, named King Amo in the film.  There are far fewer acts in the film than there are in the original story of Sun Wukong, but the writers did do an impressive job of compacting the four main arcs of the epic into an 88 minute movie. 

Our story begins shortly after Alakazam has earned the title of king of the animal kingdom.  But as our narrator descibes, Alakazam is a conceited ruler obsessed with becoming more powerful than any human magician.  After tricking Merlin (yes, that Merlin; more on this later) into teaching him his craft, Alakazam believes that he can take on anything, even the entire magical population of the heavenly land of Majutsu.  Following a humiliating defeat, the king of Majutsu, King Amo, sends him on a pilgrimage to learn wisdom, humility and mercy so that he may once again rule the animals as a wise and compassionate leader.  Meeting many interesting companions along the way, Alakazam eventually learns to utilize his magic for good and justice.  He saves the prince of heaven, returns to his love, and lives happily ever after. 

I was very excited to see this film for two major reasons, as well as many many lesser reasons.  First and foremost the credited director of the film is Osamu Tezuka, one of modern Japan's most prolific "manga" (Japanese comics) creators.  I am an appreciator of the comic book medium, so Tezuka is hardly an unknown name to me.  Thanks to my soon-to-be-aunt I've been able to obtain translations of numerous works of his, all of which are exceptional with whimsical storytelling ferrying intense characters into entrancing conflicts.  To date he has created numerous adaptations of western classics like Faust (1950) and Crime and Punishment (1953), and has created hugely popular works for Japanese young adults including the science fiction action story Astro Boy and the coming of age title Jungle Emperor.  Upon looking into the production of the film, however, it is unclear how much direct involvement he had.  Still, I like to think that he had a part in not only the style, but the script — both of which bear a striking similarity to Tezuka's situational humor and Disney-inspired art style. 

Second, and perhaps most importantly, this is a film that beautifully showcases the changing relationship that America has with Japan and her citizens.  The very fact that this film made it to our shores at all suggests that there are English speaking audiences out there who are interested in the much larger world of Japanese cinema rather than the limited diet of Japanese culture (samurai, bonsai trees, tea…and Godzilla) normally encountered in America.  I would like to believe that there are even those high up in the entertainment industry who see this film not only a way to make money, but to introduce Americans to other noteworthy Japanese cinema besides the thrilling giant radioactive monsters we've seen so far. 

As avid consumers of film, Americans both young and old, literate or illiterate, have been exposed to Japan and her citizens for many years.  Until recently, these depictions were one-sided affairs, universally from the White perspective.  Observing film history chronologically, one can see a positive and dramatic change since World War II regarding the portrayal of Japan and the Japanese in American cinema. 

Live action documentary propaganda films created by the United States government in the 1940s were, predictably, focused on explaining the relocation of Japanese-American citizens to internment camps.  These 20-30 minute shorts were stark in their description of the camps, but also tried to show that civility and nationalism could work hand in hand during this time of crisis.  In 1942 a film from the U.S.  Office of War Information titled Japanese Relocation depicted Japanese-Americans as being humanely and voluntarily evacuated to orderly camps.  The reason being that there was a possibility that the West Coast of the U.S.  could become the site of a Japanese invasion, and in order to avoid conflict over who was loyal to Japan versus the U.S., precautionary relocation needed to occur.  The 1944 film A Challenge to Democracy, produced by the War Relocation Authority, also characterized the relocation as a voluntary choice made by patriotic Japanese-American citizens who could be released if they displayed unquestionable loyalty to the war effort.  In both of these movies the Japanese are shown as compliant, obedient and content with their situation.  These notions were partly reinforced in the silent film Topaz, a 1945 amateur film by internee Dave Tatsuno.  In the film one can see smiling faces despite the sorrow Tatsuno said they experienced.  Regardless, those who were shown in the camp were still experiencing play, family, community and civil responsibility.

As the war progressed, animated shorts emerged with far more harsh portrayals of the Japanese.  Stereotypical depictions of "Tojo" were common such as in Paramount Pictures' Private Snafu, UPA studios' Commando Duck (1944).  In each of these examples the supposed evil nature of the Japanese took precedence over the portrayal of any moral grey areas.  The Japanese were dehumanized and shown as cowardly; animated films played to the wider fear and anxiety of Japan generated by the grueling brutality of the war. 

In the 1950s, our view of the Japanese began to shift.  An early anomaly during the time when Japanese-Americans were still largely ignored in film (if not outright demonized), Go for Broke! (1951), featured not only Japanese-American actors, but told the story of Japanese-Americans fighting for America in Italy and France while their families waited for them at internment camps.  Bad Day at Black Rock (1955) continued the portrayal of Japanese-Americans along a similar vein – honorable and possessing good attributes.  By 1957 the Japanese were beginning to regain some of their humanity in American cinema despite still being the common villains.  Bridge on the River Kwai depicts the brutality of the Japanese POW camps, its prisoners forced to construct bridges for the Japanese army, yet there are laudable aspects to the enemy.  The Japanese are not all portrayed as irredeemable monsters.  And then, in 1958, there was Geisha Boy – a romantic comedy that stressed the importance of the United States' alliance with Japan against communism and even explored the possibility of a blossoming romance between the protagonist, Jerry Lewis, and his character's Japanese interpreter. 

Enter Alakazam, one of the first real glimpses of Japan as seen by Japan.  Well, not quite.  According to Mika, who'd happened to see the original film in Japan but was still willing to rewatch it with me in America, the original Japanese and the English language scripts are significantly different from one another on the surface.  In translating the script to better suit a Western audience, iconic figures from both West and East mythologies exist along side one another. 

In the original Chinese story, and in the film, the concept of the supreme heaven is ruled by Taoist deities.  No one would expect Hercules and Merlin to be classified as sages and to reside in this version of heaven, and yet they appear as such in the English story.  Merlin is a mountain hermit who teaches Alakazam all he knows of magic.  Hercules challenges Alakazam when he attempts to infiltrate Majutsu Land (The Heavens).  Western concepts are also substituted for more Japanese ones.  Such is the case when Alakazam first meets King Amo.  In the Japanese version the scene sets up a contest of strength between the two.  Alakazam claims that he can transform into any creature and leap, “108,000 li”, in a single bound.  His hubris is his overestimation of his abilities and his conviction that his skill is greater than anyone's. 

In the English version Alakazam says that he has come to challenge heaven because, “You old guys should make room for the younger generation”.  His hubris is that he can challenge those more experienced than himself and still retain superiority.  Despite what is lost in the translation of people and places, little appears to be lacking from the message of the film be it in English or in Japanese.  The moral still rings consistently true – Alakazam must learn how to rule for his people rather than for himself. 

Paralleling the relationship between the U.S.  and Japan, little is different between us despite our superficial cultural differences.  We both see ourselves as Alakazam did, but like him we must both grow to be better leaders.  I believe that we will continue to find our common goal as more and more films make their way from Japan to our shores.  It's too early to tell what the reception of American audiences will be to Alakazam the Great, but one can hope that it will not only herald more cross-cultural exchange, but more understanding between our peoples. 

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[June 20, 1961] The bright side of the Moon (Nude on the Moon)

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Rosemary Benton, as you know, is one of our regular columnists.  Imagine my surprise when she suggested the following subject for her article this month.  I'm just glad I didn't have to propose it to her…

Nude on the Moon is a surprising piece of science fiction cinema directed by Raymond Phelan and Doris Wishman under the pseudonym Anthony Brooks.  Like so many adult oriented films this one was a passion project.  Phelan and Wishman co-directed, produced and wrote the script and made excellent use of their surrounding area – southern Florida. Residents of Homestead, Florida will immediately recognize the set of the moon colony as the famous Coral Castle.  Although the production budget is obviously small, Phelan and Wishman managed to make a rather intriguing movie. 

[WARNING: Those planning to watch Nude might wish to skip the following paragraph!]

The film follows the exploits of two rocket scientists, Professor Nichols (William Mayer) and Dr. Jeff Huntley (Lester Brown), who fund and execute a scientific mission to the moon.  The premise beyond that is pretty predictable.  They make it to the moon, but to their disbelief it's not the volcanic wasteland that they and the rest of the world expected.  Instead they find a peaceful kingdom of nudists ruled by a benevolent black haired beauty who is played by an actress simply credited as “Marietta”. Before they run out of oxygen Professor Nichols and Dr. Huntley must gather evidence of their discovery in order to fund further trips.  Tragically, Dr. Huntley and the Moon Queen fall in love but are forced to part so that the two men can return to Earth.  In a somewhat romantic turn Dr. Huntley finally notices the duo's long time secretary, Cathy (also played by “Marietta”), when he realizes that she bears a striking resemblance to the Moon Queen.  The film ends with them gazing into each other's eyes as they dissolve into the same moon landscape painting used for the beginning of the film.

The effort that is made to sound scientific, combined with the fantastical image of the moon, results in a rather simple but charming movie.  The first half of the film is dedicated to Dr. Huntley and Professor Nichols planning how they will use Dr. Huntley's inheritance of 3 million dollars to fund the expedition, extended shots of them tinkering in their labs, the two of them discussing the issues of metal contraction and expansion, and pondering how their trip will go.  We see Dr. Huntley and Professor Nichols develop as characters, and even get a surprise reference to Doris Wishman's 1960 nudist colony film Hideout in the Sun.  The science part of this piece of fiction melts away pretty quickly once they leave the Earth's atmosphere.  After their ship separates and they land we enter the Buck Rogers realm of hockey space suits, gold nuggets just lying around on the ground, and of course a moon's surface that looks strangely like a popular roadside attraction.

It's surprising how fleshed out the two main characters of Nude on the Moon really are.  Dr. Huntley is portrayed as a man obsessed with his career and intellectual pursuits, but is naive and almost blindingly optimistic.  He's consistently shortsighted too, which is showcased in how quickly he falls in love with the Moon Queen. Not to mention his logic of rejecting government funding in favor of using his own money because, "Money is only good when you're doing something good with it."  Professor Nichols is the guiding influence in Dr. Huntley's world.  He's the realist and far more money conscious than his partner. Scientific pursuit is extremely important, but not to the exclusion of ladies and film as we see when he flirts with Cathy and expresses his appreciation for Hideout in the Sun.

For a film that's basically an excuse to show topless women there's a lot of setup.  The plot even circles around to explain why this mission to the moon isn't known all over the world.  By not telling the press, not accepting funding from the US government, and forgetting their camera and samples on the moon they have no proof that their mission even happened.  They themselves aren't even sure that they went to the moon since they were passed out during the landing, and even by their own admission what happened to them went far beyond any current conception of the moon's surface.

Given that I could only find this film playing at a grindhouse theater two towns over, plus the clarity of the title, that Nude on the Moon bears the Motion Picture Association of America's (MPAA) label of "Suggested for Mature Audiences" is unsurprising.  Roughly half of the running time for Nude on the Moon is dedicated to the tropical paradise nudist kingdom on the moon.  Topless perky ladies (and two gentlemen) all lounging, dancing, frolicking before the scientific gaze of the visiting Earth research team.  It's purely voyeuristic eye candy, but is still arguably part of a major shift in cinema.  Last year the Hays Code (also known as the Production Code) was significantly overhauled to better suite current trends in America's disposition with cinema.  Prohibitions on portrayals of drug use, abortion, miscegenation, prostitution, abortion and nudity were all reframed. At the same time blasphemy and ridiculing of the clergy were expressly prohibited.  Nude on the Moon still has run into trouble with the censors.  New York state banned the film because of its portrayal of nudity outside of an “official” nudist colony context.  Phelan and Wishman's explanation that it was a moon nudist colony did not sway their decision.

Nude on the Moon is, and it feels weird to say this, but a rather cute, charming movie.  It also can't be overstated how refreshing it was to see a woman director taking to the science fiction genre in film.  I am probably not the audience that Doris Wishman or Raymond Phelan expected, but I have to commend them on producing a decently made and written schlock film.  It's not often I wander into a grindhouse theater in the pursuit of science fiction, and since The Beast of Yucca Flats was the last grindhouse production I saw I wasn't sure what to expect.  It certainly wasn't something of quality.  The miniatures used to show the rocket's launch, travel through space, and the landing on the moon were decently done, and the music plays well with the hokeyness of the premise.  The plot nicely ties itself up at the end, and most importantly it didn't seem to bore the audience.  They are not just at a nudist camp sunbathing, lounging and having a generally relaxing day, they are aliens too!  It succeeds very well at what it sets out to do, which is to be a rather adorable twist on the nudist camp genre of films.

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[May 24, 1961] Progress? (The Beast of Yucca Flats, by Rosemary Benton)

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May 1961 has been a busy month for movies!  We're up to three: Gorgo, Atlantis, and…well, see for yourself what guest writer, Ms. Rosemary Benton, has been so kind as to present:

Oh my, was this a lesson is poor filmmaking and truly a dark day for the science-fiction genre.  The tale ofThe Beast of Yucca Flats is short, but very baffling. 

Here's the set-up: Soviet agents have been dispatched to apprehend and execute Dr. Joseph Javorsky, a scientist defected from "behind the Iron Curtain," carrying top secret documents about the Russian "Moon Shot."  A firefight commences leading to a car chase onto a plain which we see, via a small hand painted sign, is the Nevada Test Site (NTS) Yucca Flats.  The US agents then stop the car in order to continue the previous gun fight (which makes no sense; they must be heading to the military base at the nuclear testing facility, Why stop?) Needless to say their exchange leads to a pursuit on foot into the surrounding wastes, when FLASH! a nuclear bomb is detonated.  The last that is seen of the poor doctor is a hand reaching towards a flaming briefcase.  When next we see Dr. Javorsky, the radiation exposure has turned him into a mad strangler – The Beast!

Immediate points of contention when addressing this film include stilted performances, shots that are so dark they're black, and a rambling plot that seems to jump around in time.  The cinematography is directed with little regard to continuity: characters will be stumbling toward camera left when just a moment prior they were fleeing from camera right.  Interestingly, the film was recorded with no audio, so when a character has dialogue, the lines are delivered with the actor facing away from the camera, off camera entirely, or in a scene so dark you can't make out anything.  All sound – special effects, music, and dialogue – were very clearly added in post production.

Thankfully this was the second film in the double feature I saw, because I can't imagine who would brave this film hoping to see what follows it.  Going on about the technical quality of the film in any aspect would be a pointless adventure.  So instead I let my mind wander, and as I was sitting in the theater for a seemingly endless amount of time I was drawn to several interesting aspects of the film's production.

As a project funded on a shoestring it's not surprising to see members of the cast double up on roles. Larry Aten, the actor portraying patrolman Joe Dobson, was credited as both an actor as well as the makeup artist.  Unfortunately I don't know his work from anywhere else, but amazingly, there was one actor whose career I was very familiar with.  Character actor Tor Johnson plays the titular Beast of the film, bringing with him his infamous white eyed visage and staggering gait.  Given his prior film history, I knew that his name popping up in the introductory credits heralded a film that would be assuredly terrible, but fascinatingly so.

Tor Johnson started out as a wrestler known as The Swedish Angel.  The first credited role Johnson landed was a background part on the acclaimed history-drama show You Are There.  Johnson continued finding bit roles in television before breaking into movies via 1955's Edward D. Wood Jr. picture, Bride of the Monster.  Two years later, Johnson again starred in an Ed Wood film, The Unearthly.  Then came Night of the Ghouls in 1958, written, produced and directed by…you guessed it: Ed Wood.  By the time Johnson starred in (Wood's) Plan 9 From Outer Space , it was clear that the man had found his niche.  In fact, it was downright odd to see him anywhere outside of an Edward D. Wood Jr. production, but I will admit that if anyone had to portray a radioactive scientist turned strangler, former wrestler Tor Johnson was a good choice.

Coleman Francis, writer, actor, director, editor and co-producer of The Beast of Yucca Flats, is another name that I recognized from television and film.  As a thespian, you might remember him from Sargent Preston of the Yukon , or Dragnet.  Uncredited roles of his include the power plant phone operator in the 1954 science-fiction film Killers from Space and the express delivery man from the 1955 jewel This Island Earth .  Judging by the number of functions he managed in The Beast of Yucca Flats, it was clearly his passion project . Having that much control over a project could have allowed Francis to create something very different.  That isn't what happened, but nonetheless there's an outsider quality to the film that, although not nearly as clever as Francis thought it was, deserves some consideration.

In a better film with a better script, the ever present narration (written and read by Coleman Francis) might actually have come off as clever.  However, weighed down by odd timing and working in tandem with a poor plot, the words come off as pompous.  Francis's narration consists of the repetition of key phrases which are supposed to draw a correlation between the plot and larger world issues.  The repetition of the word “progress” is a particular favorite of his.  "Progress" is synonymous with Dr. Javorsky, or more specifically the Beast.  Joe Dobson is, "Caught in the wheels of progress" as he surveys the first victims of the Beast.  "Progress" said as the highway patrolmen are getting into their car to look for the murderer of a young couple.  I can only assume that, according to Coleman Francis, scientific progress has a price that must be paid in blood and futile efforts. 

Take Joseph Javorsky who lost his whole family in Hungary and now, just when he was about to meet with the American scientific and military community, is caught in an atomic blast that turns him into a strangler and who is then hunted down and shot.  A poetic criticism of the advancement of science, but impossible to take seriously when there isn't any scientific basis for the conflict of the plot – which, again, is about a man who is driven to murderous strangulation after being caught in a blast of radiation.

The Beast of Yucca Flats is almost a creature of a bygone era if one only looks at the way that it was filmed and written.  There are hints, however, of a new emergence in science-fiction and film that I believe Francis was aware of when he made his movie.  More and more young people can afford their own entertainment, which translates into profits for anyone who can hold their attention.  To that end The Beast of Yucca Flats attempts to be both a titillating “creature feature” and a cautionary tale of science.  As a creature feature, it conforms to the metaphor of creature/alien/monster serving as the embodiment of all that is wrong with the world. Through science gone awry this creature/alien/monster has struck at the hand that created it.  Such cautionary tales of science featuring a centralized menace are plentiful in science-fiction and include such memorable movies as Godzilla, King of Monsters! from 1956, Them! (1954), and The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953). 

Where earlier science fiction films predominantly try to present as fantastical but scientific, The Beast of Yucca Flats nearly glosses over any real science.  The disaster that is supposed to spawn the Beast is highly illogical, and the film misses that crucial science-fiction scene where the characters try to figure out why radiation would turn someone into a mad strangler.  It's a pretty major deviation from the last decade of the genre's formula, but one that I imagine we will see more of in the future as focus in science-fiction cinema shifts to accommodate the emerging teenage movie-going population . It can certainly be expected that marketing to a young audience will include more nude scenes as in the uncut opening of The Beast of Yucca Flats. 

Would I recommend that anyone see this film?  No.  It's a poorly made movie that was released on the popularity of the science-fiction genre, but does nothing to further it.  Aside from being insultingly dumb, it's a boring film with only the wacky collection of cast members going for it.  It is always entertaining to see Tor Johnson reprising his Lobo character, but in this case take a pass and make sure whatever double feature you see with The Beast of Yucca Flats shows the film second, not first.

[Ms. Benton has neglected to rate this gem.  1 star?  2 stars?  6?  And I have to wonder what the first movie of the double-feature was…]

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Book

[April 20, 1961] People are not the same all over (Pilgrimage, by Zenna Henderson)

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[Here is Rosemary Benton's article for April 1961.  She asked if she could do Zenna Henderson's compilation of The People stories, none of which she had previously read; I hadn't picked up the book since I have the stories in magazine form.  I thought it a smashing idea since it would give us all a fresh insight on Henderson's works.  I've been vindicated…(the Editor)]

In my quest to break my bookshelf under the weight of my science fiction, horror and fantasy collections, this month I picked up noted author Zenna Henderson's latest publication. To anyone who frequents Fantasy and Science Fiction and Galaxy, Zenna Henderson and her alien race, the People, should not be unknown to you. Pilgrimage: the Book of the People contains Ararat (1952), Gilead (1954), Pottage (1955), Wilderness (1956), Captivity (1958) and Jordan (1959), all tied together through an overarching narrative that tells the story of a human observing the People. As each one of the People takes their turn recounting their time on Earth, the book progresses along such themes as self-discovery, selflessness for the betterment of community, and the definition of home and belonging.

Pilgrimage: The Book of the People is, by authorial intent, the application of the accumulation of her personal experiences. Zenna Henderson clearly puts everything of herself into her stories, making her writing highly personal yet relatable. Her years in Arizona, first as a student at Arizona State and then as a teacher, crystalized the American West as the perfect setting for her stories of the People. In each of the chapters of Pilgrimage, the reader can detect hints of Henderson's spirituality, her compassion for humanity, and her willingness to believe in positive change effected by mindset and actions.

Born to Mormon parents but non-practicing beyond her marriage to Richard Harry Henderson in 1944, Zenna Henderson retains a deep sense of spirituality which she expresses in Methodism and in her writing. The People are a universalist group who believe that distance is without consequence when it comes to their relationship with the all knowing all being creator they call "the Presence." They are unafraid to acknowledge their religion and meet all other religions with respect. As Valancy, one of the People, says to the human Dita, “Two worlds and yet you're so like us” (162). Through words and non-violence the People manage to solve all of their dilemmas. It can read as a little saccharine, but Henderson's cleverness in creating solutions through diplomacy adds a refreshing taste to her stories. 

Either out of moral obligation or because they are simply decent people, Zenna Henderson's main cast holds a special understanding for the mentally ill. I found this to be highly interesting to observe as you don't see much science fiction that treats the mentally ill as multifaceted characters. In fact, the majority of the overarching narrative in Pilgrimage is told from the perspective of a suicidal woman, Lea, who is receiving counseling from Karen, one of the People. Her journey of stepping away from the edge is just one of the many reasons to pay attention to Henderson's approach to mental health. Of particular note is the minor character, Lucine, in “Wilderness”. Henderson takes the time to build her as a disabled little girl who is prone to fits of rage but still remorseful for her violence. This makes her eventual mental break and the manhunt that follows particularly painful. We can see that her death would not be befitting of her crimes, and the reader can't help but sympathize with such a debilitating illness as severe mental retardation. 

But mental anguish and flawed characters are not all that Zenna Henderson brings to tangible life within the genre of science fiction. Henderson is in a unique place to write on immigration, and she delves into the complications of it with full gusto. I understand that she taught at the Japanese interment camps in Sacaton, AZ; Henderson was able to see first hand the forced displacement of people from their homes. Her experience at a US Air Force dependents' school in France likewise taught her more about people exiled from their places of origin. Science fiction is replete with adventurers flung far away from their homes, but in few cases do we see frontier life complete with details of longing for a home that can never be returned to; one that the characters are tragically adrift from forever. In describing the People's collective memory of the voyage from their world, the human Melodye succinctly observes that, “Racial memory was truly a double-sided coin” (99). Henderson likewise writes about the loss of culture and recorded memory (33). The fear in the flight from one's home is made very clear on page 182 when Henderson writes, “From terror and from panic places. From hunger and from hiding – to live midway through madness and the dream”. 

In addition to her use of the world as she saw it, nowhere else in Henderson's writing do you see her own personal experience shine more brightly than in her portrayal of teaching and teachers. There is a fascinating realism and maturity that Henderson infuses her younger characters with. These are three dimensional children who are a product of their environments and whose stories reflect that. They express rage, harbor ambitions, and are powerful but still young. Most importantly they want to heard and be listened to. The story of the Francher Kid, a foster child in an unfortunate household, is a prime example of Henderson's ability to write a compelling child character who is a conflicted, lonely and trapped. I believe Henderson's description of Francher as a “My Child” best speaks to the author's authority on the topic of merging experience with fiction, “We teacher-types sometimes find [a My Child]. They aren't our pets; often they aren't even in our classes. But they are the children who move unasked into our hearts and make claims upon them over and above the call of duty” (178). Her explanation of how teachers relate to their charges rings true on page 17 as well, “They pour out the most personal things quite unsolicited to almost any adult who will listen – and who's more apt to listen than a teacher?”. Teachers in Henderson's writing seem to represent the closest equivalent Humans can get to the glowing moral fiber of the People. They are portrayed as saviors, love interests, authority figures, and even heroes.

Perhaps the most noticeable fault in Henderson's writing is the air of assurance that everything will turn out alright due to the moral uprightness of the People; their steadfast adherence to doing what is right erases any deep senses of urgency in the plot. The effect is that Henderson's writing is a slow, contemplative walk rather than a sprinting, adrenaline race to the finish.

On the other side, a slow burning plot gives the author time for investment in the characters. And even with their moral fortitude, the main characters are not boring guides. They experience a full range of situations that test her message of acceptance and tolerance, and although the reader can rest assured that things will work out, how they work out is entertaining to read, and often a touch bittersweet.

In sum, I highly recommend Pilgrimage: The Book of the People — of all the speculative fiction books you could read this year (1961), it may turn out to be the best.

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[March 21, 1961] Marching as to Peace

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[As promised, here is the first of Rosemary Benton's regular articles for Galactic Journey.  Science ficton is about progress, and not just of the nuts and bolts kind.  Sociological progress is fertile ground for a myriad of stories.  I can easily imagine an intergalactic version of the new development Ms.  Benton writes about below…(the Editor)]

Salutations everyone!  On March 1st our president made good on a proposed project from back in 1960 which we, especially the young, hoped against hope would come to fruition.  The Peace Corps, a volunteer organization tasked with providing technical assistance and fostering cultural exchange abroad, is now a reality.  Granted, it is only on a trial basis, but the enthusiasm that the very concept has generated has been momentous. 

Sharron Perry is one such prospective volunteer I had the pleasure to meet when visiting the campus for a prospective job offer at the university library.  A succinct and highly motivated lady, she told me all about this revolutionary new federal program that was started just earlier this month.  As a conscientious objector and active member of her university's organization, Americans Committed to World Responsibility, Sharron is a graduating senior who seems to vibrate with the energy that embodies her age group.  She was nice enough to share with me the following letter which she hopes will galvanize other young people at her school, the University of Michigan, to join her on this new adventure. 

Perhaps she will motivate you, as well:

3/20/1961

To the current students, upcoming graduates and alumni,

I hope that you read this opinion piece with a desire for a sense of purpose in your life–a sense of dignity, respect and compassion for your fellow man.  As the school year draws to a close and our paths take us outside of the walls of our alma mater, I find that I am cornered in a difficult position not unknown to our generation.  To survive and flourish by the principles of goodwill and hard work, but at the same time to serve our country, our people, and live for the betterment of the world.  As the next generation of Americans – the next line of teachers, doctors, and civil engineers – it is our honor bound duty and privilege to serve our country and fellow man. 

But to serve and protect through the military is no longer the only honorable path, and it is no longer only a man's prerogative.  Wouldn't it be better to have our men serve their turn of duty through a less destructive, more diplomatic means that will encourage societies throughout the third world to turn away from the Soviets? Women of America, wouldn't it be better to offer much needed assistance abroad while traveling the world? With Janet G. Travell holding the position of physician to the president, the first woman to hold this station, shouldn't we strive to break even more boundaries? Americans of all races, shouldn't we support a federal organization which will not segregate and discriminate against our heritages? Our newly elected president challenged us University of Michigan students on October 14, 1960 to imagine such a global service, and now in March 1961 he has given us the opportunity to put the same enthusiasm we had for the idea into practice.  It is up to our generation to rise to this challenge.  As President Kennedy said at 2 AM in front of the University of Wisconsin Union, "On your willingness to do that, not merely to serve one year or two years in the service, but on your willingness to contribute part of your life to this country, I think will depend the answer whether a free society can compete."

The philosopher William James wrote in his essay The Moral Equivalent of War, that "the gilded youths" should hold a responsibility to serve in order for them "to come back into society with healthier sympathies and soberer ideas".  As we leave behind the safety of student life, heads full of new and exciting ideas, we too must go out and come back to our native land with a better understanding of the challenges that will be posed to America in the coming decade.  To be better Americans we must know the world.  "Unless you comprehend the nature of what is being asked of you, this country can't possibly move through the next 10 years in a period of relative strength."

As a conscientious objector I will be wearing my black arm band this May at my class' graduation.  As a woman I will wear the black arm band because I intend to rise to President Kennedy's challenge, and peacefully fight against the perception that America can only fight through the CIA.  We students graduating in 1961 are very lucky to have been offered an honorable alternative to the draft.  Us students lucky enough to have spent our educational lives in a school as progressive as the University of Michigan, with our study abroad program and our campus organizations like Americans Committed to World Responsibility, now must act upon our belief in sustainable peace.  It is not merely a choice to volunteer for the Peace Corps, but an obligation of our generation.


The letter and its writer are fictional, but nevertheless representative.

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Movies

[Sep. 24, 1960] Mood for a Day (Roger Corman's House of Usher)

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We are pleased to present noted scholar Rosemary Benton's thoughts on Roger Corman's House of Usher, the cinemafication of Poe's classic about a cursed family doomed to madness through the ages.  Special kudos must be awarded since Ms.  Benton lives in rural New England, where the movie houses are not all air conditioned…

It's been a particularly hot summer this year, but a deep love of movies compelled me to visit my local theater nonetheless.  This time it was to enjoy a film that has been making quite a stir since it's release in June: House of Usher. 

Buzz about the movie claims that it was shot in only 15 days, and apparently a forest fire in the Hollywood Hills served as the perfect filming location for the opening shots of the movie.  On the one hand, I had to wonder how good a film that was shot in such a rush could possibly be.  On the other hand, Roger Corman's dedication to effect can hardly be questioned when he drags his crew out into the ruin of a forest fire all for the glory of atmosphere.  And with the positive reception that another of Mr.  Corman's recent pictures has been getting, The Little Shop of Horrors, I couldn't justify missing out on an opportunity to see some more of his work. 

What atmosphere there is in House of Usher.  Silence is allowed at times, just to hear the creaking of the house in the dead of night.  When music does occur strains of the orchestra's violin section and the hypnotic vocals utilized in the film's peaks make for a memorable score by veteran composer, Les Baxter.  Music, or lack thereof, is key to what makes House of Usher so very creepy.  The vocals are employed to great effect about half an hour into the movie when our protagonist wanders into the mansion's chapel.  It comes as a great relief that soothes the fear the audience was experiencing just moments before.  Here is a place that, in the honeycombed labyrinth of the Usher mansion, offers comfort and protection.  Then, with a cascade of violins, the scene transforms into a shock that the audience didn't predict.  It's a turn that, in lesser films, would have been achieved only by a shot of the shocked face of the actor, followed by a quick cut to the object of the shock.  Or perhaps a panning shot would shows the audience what the actor will be scared by moments before they themselves see it.  In House of Usher the visuals, acting, and music all unite in many memorable moments throughout the film. 

There is a distinct lack of exposition which I found to be very refreshing.  The audience is allowed to draw their own conclusion on the mental states of characters, and are left on the edge of their seats wondering what twists and turns will come next.  This kind of horror film could not be more anticipated given the many low grade double feature horror movies, sequels, and franchises of recent years.  This glut of horror movies has shown a strain on the formula that made the careers of Bella Lugosi and Boris Karloff. 

Headlining actor Vincent Price's telltale drawl, soft line delivery and affected mannerisms have type-cast him to such a point that nearly his entire early career has been built upon television spots as villainous rogues.  The characters he portrayed for many years were sadly only as deep as a few establishing shots allowed.  There is a renaissance afoot in Mr.  Price's career, however.  Oddly enough, this maturation was brought on by a satirical horror film with the most ridiculous premise.  The Tingler showed Mr.  Price playing a morally ambiguous mortician/scientist who wavered on a thin line between antagonist and antihero, someone goofy yet menacing.  Now, as the titular master of the Usher household, he has been given the freedom to waver between madman and protector, a person who believes so profoundly in the existence of evil that he is willing to stamp it out even at the cost of his own life and the family line.  It is my firm belief that actors like him, with directors like Richard Corman, will carry horror films on to something greater. 

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Movies

[Feb. 1, 1960] Sand in my shorts (On the Beach movie review)

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With the Hugo nominations already afoot, I felt I could not advisedly give my vote for Best Science Fiction in Media (1959) without giving last year's post-apocalyptic sleeper, On the Beach a watch.  It's just now leaving the theaters, so I caught it in the nick of time.  I did not take my daughter with me on this outing, as I felt the material might be a bit subtle for her.  Perhaps I don't give her enough credit.

In any event, just as I was sharpening my quills, I made the acquaintance of a learned and delightful young woman named Rosemary, who was just about to put her own thoughts on the film to paper.  I invited her to share them with my readers, and as she was interested in expanding her own audience by some five to ten persons, she graciously obliged my request. 

Without further ado:

Reaction to On the Beach (1959 film)
-Rosemary Benton

I first heard about Nevil Shute's On the Beach, depicting life in Australia after an atomic apocalypse, within the pages of the March 1958 edition of Galaxy Magazine. Floyd C. Gale's review was glowing. He even went so far as to say that On the Beach, “should be made mandatory reading for all professional diplomats and politicos” (120). Despite such high praise, I didn't take an interest in the title until United Artists announced that they would be releasing a film adaptation just in time for the 1959 Christmas season. Having just seen Stanley Kramer's masterful direction of The Defiant Ones last year in September I was very much looking forward to seeing how Mr. Kramer would do justice to Shute's tale of the acceptance of human failure and mortality in the face of certain, calendared, radioactive doom.

In preparation of seeing the movie I made it a priority to read the novel so I could contrast the two versions. While I did enjoy the cinematography, the musical score, and the acting of Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner, my largest problem with this adaptation was the melodrama that was infused into the film. Beginning from the dinner party scene when the scientist and politician argue over who is to blame for the atomic war, and remaining through the highly charged relationship between the self-described town drunk Moira Davidson and the US naval officer Captain Dwight Towers, the emotions of the characters run much higher than in Shute's novel. My impression is that this was done for several reasons. Firstly, to redirect the story's focus from the Australian naval family of Peter, Mary and their baby Jennifer Holmes to the more romantically charged friendship between Moira (played by Ms. Gardner) and Dwight (played by Mr. Peck). Secondly, to add more drama on the fatalistic situation that the characters find themselves in.

While the novel plays more on the angst of lost potential and hope for a better future that the young Australian family must come to grips with, the movie instead plays to the tried and true story of love lost and the inevitable divide between duty, country, and status. It's a shame that there isn't more time given to the lives of the Holmes family. Not only do they symbolize the struggle for new life through the already difficult early stages of marriage and child rearing, but they feel that they must hang on as long as possible despite the deadly radiation and inevitable death being carried into the last bastion of humanity. Moira and Dwight are more symbolic of desperate, grasping hope. As their friendship evolves both characters come to realize that what they want is holding them back and apart. Moira wants a romantic relationship with Dwight, but respects that he can not let go of the deceased family he left in Connecticut. Dwight, with his intense loyalty to his old family's memory and his determination to cling to the slight hope that he and his crew might find other people still alive in the irradiated lands of the Northern Hemisphere, effectively limits his ability to find happiness in his short time remaining. 

While I respect Stanley Kramer's ability to engage his audience, I think he played too much to the conventions of Hollywood. Disasters in movies tend to rend communities apart, while in reality they bring local people together. The more disruptive a threat, the more people will band together. Our own civil defense committees that formed across the nation during the Second World War showed a solidarity in small communities that counteracted panic. Even during the Great Flood of 1951, when disaster struck Kansas and ruined thousands of livelihoods, civilians still rushed to help those who were trapped. Shute, I believe, understands this human solidarity in his depiction of the calm equanimity that his characters display. Shute gives his characters addictions, socially awkward encounters, playful banter, and a grace that comes with the characters' acceptance (or flippant dismissal) of the coming extinction of humanity. Having been pushed into a corner through a mass extinction event Shute knows that his cast of players are not as irrational and/or oblivious to their situation as Kramer's movie would have the audience believe.


The starring cast… on the beach

Editor's prologue: Rosemary is far more charitable to the movie than I can be, focusing on a few, quite astute observations.  I found the film a dreadful, morose, melodramatic bore.  The endless variations of "Waltzing Matilda" (eternally heralding that We Are in Australia) punctuated by needlessly loud blasts of brass during the poignant bits, sent me diving for refuge in my Buddy Holly records.  Suffice it to say, this film will not be my recommendation for best science fiction film of the past year.

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Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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