Tag Archives: vermillion sands

[November 22, 1967] Being #3… (December 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

The Loser of the Pack

According to the very latest Science Fiction Weekly (formerly Degler), F&SF has failed to gain readership in the last several years.  Contrast this to the steady gains (and 2x readership in general) that Analog has enjoyed.

Van Arnam ascribes this stagnation not to the inherent superiority of Campbell's mag, but the fact that F&SF just can't get the same kind of distribution that the other mags enjoy.  The owners of Fantastic and Amazing benefit from having two mags to use as leverage.  Fred Pohl has three, sort of.  And Analog is put out by Condé Nast, which means newsstands get Analog as part of a larger package including big deal pubs like Vogue.

So the question becomes this: would F&SF score better with the fans if distribution was no longer a factor?  In other words, is F&SF a better mag than the rest?  Let's look at this month's issue and find out!


Random sample


by Jack Gaughan

Sundown, by David Redd

I always enjoy stories that mix magic with technology, and this piece by David Redd does so quite well.  The setting is distant world with a steep axial tilt and a long orbit.  Thus, for decades of its solar sojourn, whole swaths of the planet are in perpetual day or night.

Humans came to this world and drove away, enslaved, or slaughtered the natives of the northern polar continent when it was in sunlight.  They built cities, exploited the land, and in general behaved like the expansionistic menace we so often are.  Then the night came again…

As of the beginning of the tale, the dryads, gnomes, fur spirits, oreads, elves, and trolls, have lived in peace for some time, mining the abandoned human colony for metallic treasures under the endless starry night.  But the serpent is returning to paradise: Josef Somes, a human from the southern lands, is trudging north in search of valuable "life-rock", and he doesn't care who he has to kill to get it.

The hero of our story is a the White Lady, a dryad.  Her companions, a stolid, axe-wielding gnome, two fur spirits, and a cronish oread, form a squad whose mission is to dispatch the human before he can defile the fairy Homeground.

There is a lovely world here, and an unusual storytelling perspective.  If the story has any fault, it is the rather prosaic language and somewhat shallow treatment.  I feel Thomas Burnett Swann could have raised the material up to five stars.

It's still a fine piece, though, and an excellent opening to the issue.  Four stars.

The Saga of DMM, by Larry Eisenberg

The synthetic drug, DMM, is not only the tastiest substance in existence, it is the richest food imaginable.  And it's a powerful aphrodesiac.  It soon proves more popular than pot, acid, reds, whites, and heroin comined.  A wave of fornicative obesity sweeps the world, with catastrophic results.

Pretty frivolous satire.  Not really worth your time.  Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Brain Wave, by Jennifer Palmer and Stuart Palmer

A male college student is mentally contacted by a comely alien woman from from Alpha Centauri.  A friendly correspondence ensues.

I find I have very little to say about this up-front story, which reads like some kind of wish-fulfillment fantasy until the end, whereupon it has a rather silly twist conclusion (that I suppose is meant to be horrific, but it's really not).

"Mildly diverting fluff" covers it.  It straddles the 2/3 star barrier, but I think it ends up on the poorer end of the spectrum.

Cerberus, by Algis Budrys

Marty McCay is an amiable ad man, legendary for his mildness.  His method for coping with his wife's flagrant infidelities is to tell shaggy dog tales with a punning punchline.  In the end, we see that the butt of his jokes was always himself.

There's no science fiction in this tale.  What there is, however, is some excellent writing.  Four stars.

Noise, by Ted Thomas

In this month's science fact vignette, I thought Thomas was going to propose a sonic weapon.  Instead, he outlines the invention of selective ear-plugs that would blot out the bad noise, but admit desired sounds.

One of his better pieces, which is to say, it doesn't stink.

Three stars.

To Behold the Sun, by Dean R. Koontz

The first expedition to the sun is about to take off, crewed by three regular humans and a cybernetic ship-master.  Unfortunately, said cyborg is still shellshocked from losing his beloved in a fire several years prior.  And what is the sun if not a big ball of fire?

Behold feels as if Koontz read a bunch of Zelazny tales and thought, "I can do this too!"  Well, he can't.  His writing is hamfisted, the science is silly, and the situation is contrived.

Besides, if they wanted a safe trip to the sun, they should have waited until nighttime…

Two stars.

The Power of the Mandarin, by Gahan Wilson

Wilson not only provides the cartoons for each issue of F&SF, he is also an author.  Mandarin is the story of a pulp villain increasingly taking control of his creator's work, ultimately departing from the printed page into reality.

Reasonably well done, and arguably more successful than his drawings.  Three stars.

The First Metal, by Isaac Asimov

I rate an Asimov article by its memorability and quotability.  The good Doctor's discussion of the earliest knowledge of metals was pretty interesting, and I ended up summarizing the piece to my family on one of our morning walks.  The only real fault with the piece is that it would have been well served by a couple more pages.

Four stars.

The Chelmlins, by Leonard Tushnet

A droll piece about how the Jewish version of the Leprechauns helps keep the schlemiels of the Polish city of Chelm from becoming schlimazels.  It's the kind of story Avram Davidson might write, though had he done so, it may well have been funnier.  Chelmlins isn't bad, but it doesn't quite hit the mark hard enough.

Three stars.

The Cloud-Sculptors of Coral D, by J. G. Ballard

Finally, the latest story in the Vermillion Sands setting.  These tales of the rather surreal artists colony tend to be my favorite by Ballard.  This particular one involves a troupe of cloud-sculptors: glider pilots who use silver iodide and custom aircraft to create ephemeral images in the sky.  They are hired by a bitter widow possessed of extreme vanity, with deadly results.

If you've read one story, you've read them all.  They universally involve desolate landscapes, a dreamy sense of time, and have a sour undertone.  This was dramatic stuff when Ballard first came on the scene early in the decade, but it's getting a bit played out.

Three stars.


Hung jury

This issue turned out to be a bit of a mixed bag.  There are some stand-out pieces and some duds.  Most interestingly, we have a several stories that would have been well served by being written by greater talents.  On the other hand, rawer authors have to start somewhere, so I'd hate to deny them their chance to improve.

All in all, this issue would probably keep me subscribing, particularly at the discounted holiday rates.  I don't know if the quality demonstrated in the December 1967 F&SF would be sufficient to displace other mags for the Best Magazine Hugo, however, even if distribution were not an issue.

It's all academic, in the end.  As long as you order directly from the company, it doesn't really matter how many newsstands the magazine ends up on.  So tell your friends and get a subscription today.  You just might help F&SF outlast all of its competitiors!






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[September 18, 1967] Skål! (October 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Vicious Varangians

Reliving the Middle Ages "as they ought to have been" is all the rage now, from Renaissance Pleasure Faires to The Society for Creative Anachronism to The Byrd's song, "Renaissance Faire".  Not to be left out, our corner of San Diego has decided to put on its own Viking Fest, featuring axe-throwing, mead-drinking, and general revelry.

Of course, the seasoned time-traveling Journey crowd attended!

Something to cheer about

It's been a while since I've been able to report on a issue that's good from bow to stern (recognizing that such things are rare, of course–Sturgeon's Law ensures much of what anyone reads must not be the best).  I'm happy to report that this month's issue of Fantasy of Science Fiction was quite enjoyable.


by Chesley Bonestell; as usual, it doesn't illustrate any of the stories inside

Home the Hard Way, by Richard McKenna

Chief Biotech Skinner Webb of the Galactic Patrol Ship Carlyle is determined to jump ship.  The why: planet Conover is the loveliest world Webb has ever espied, and its richest denizens have offered him the moon…and a chance at love with a plump and gorgeous scion.

Sadly for Skinner, he's got a seven year hitch.  And so, he does his damndest to get out of it, going AWOL, starting fights, even consorting with a criminal element.  All it does it lose him stripes and put him under Vry Chalmers, his former adjutant and long-suffering friend.  Will Webb ever get to paradise?

Author Richard McKenna seems to write more now that he's dead than he did when he was alive.  I quite enjoyed this space-based yarn, and I particularly appreciated the frequent appearance of women in the navy–as high rated enlisted men, no less.  I don't think I've ever seen that particular touch in a story.  We've had women officers (q.v. Star Trek and Starship Troopers), but no women grunts.  Certainly, it's a rare thing.

Of course, as my wife notes, why anyone would fall for Skinner Webb, when he's something of a lummox, is a bit of a mystery.  But perhaps we just have an unsympathetic narrator.  In any event, this story gets an unreserved four stars.

The Inner Circles, by Fritz Leiber

The artful Leiber offers up this tale of a family that seems to create its own reality.  The father molds ebony companions out of shadow, with whom he converses over watered-down martinis.  The mother sketches fanciful worlds and imagines that the machines of the house talk to her.  And the son is an interstellar rocket jockey, aided by just a few toys as visual aids.

Notable for including the second use of the word "shit" in as many months in F&SF (will the mails stop carrying this trashy publication?) and for a surprising but welcome happy ending, this is another good piece.  Leiber, a veteran stage actor, has mastered the art of rendering the theatrical in his prose.  Four stars.


Speaking of Leiber…

Camels and Dromedaries, Clem, by R. A. Lafferty

Cleminger is a big man, one of the hottest traveling salesmen in the country.  In fact, he's a little too big: one day, he falls asleep in a hotel and splits into two beings–externally identical, but somehow each half a man.  The two go on to live separate lives, until their desirable and desiring wife, Veronica, demands an end to the intolerable situation.

Lafferty is always whimsical, but this piece feels a bit more grounded than most–more Ellison than Lafferty.  Once again, it's enjoyable from beginning to end.  That's three four-star stories in a row!

The Power of Every Root, by Avram Davidson

Now off to sunny Mexico, where Carlos Rodriguez Nunez, police officer of the municipality of Santo Tomas, finds himself increasingly afflicted with physical maladies, as well as furtively derided by his townsfolk.  Is it a disease?  A hex?  The doctor cannot help, and the witch doctor's advice seems spurious.  Surely his luscious wife, Lupe, is above suspicion…

Davidson, once editor of F&SF, fled to Mexico for a while after abandoning the helm of this magazine.  He clearly absorbed enough of the local color to vividly paint this tale.  While ably told and a beautiful travelogue, the plot itself is rather slight, so I'm afraid three stars is my limit for this one.

Corona, by Samuel R. Delany

I've often complained that everybody else gets to review Chip Delany's work but me.  Well, I got what's coming to me.  This story involves a troublemaking hulk of a blue collar man named Buddy, who forms a rapport with "the prettiest little colored girl" named Lee, afflicted with uncontrollable telepathy.  Said nine-year old has seen too much to want to live any longer.  But her love for the popular music of Bryan Faust, particularly sharing it with Buddy, may give her a new lease on life.

If it weren't for the sentimentality, I'd say this is more Analog than F&SF.  That said, despite the obvious attempts to be moving, I found myself curiously unmoved by this tale.

Three stars.

Music to My Ears, by Isaac Asimov

Speaking of music, Dr. A manages to take a potentially interesting topic–namely, the mathematical relationships between wave frequencies that underlie the fundamental scales of music–and make it not only dull as dishwater, but also virtually impenetrable.

And I have both a math and a music degree!

Two stars.

Alas, Poor Yorick! I Knew Him Well Enuff, by Joan Patricia Basch

Equity's a great gig.  It's virtually impossible to get canned from a show when you're equity, even if you're dead!  But what if you really need that not-dead skull who's a member of the guild to shut up so you can finish the damned play?

Basch has written a cute story, and it's likely to wring a grin or two from you, if nothing else.

Three stars.

Time, by L. Sprague de Camp

Poetry by a regular contributor of same, this time lamenting over the greats he'll never meet, and the fans he'll never know.

Three stars, I guess.

Cry Hope, Cry Fury!, by J. G. Ballard

We return to the crystalline seas of Vermillion Sands.  A yachter by the name of Melville is stranded when his sand boat blows a tire.  A wraith-like vision of a woman named Hope offers succor, but her obsession with an old flame (whom she may or may not have killed) belies the pleasant qualities of her namesake.

I tend to prefer Vermillion Sands stories to the more kaleidoscopic stuff Ballard has been turning in of late.  There's more of a through-line.  I also like the idea of photographic paints that depict ever-changing portraits of their subjects.

I don't think I'd give it four stars, but it's definitely interesting.

Praise be to Odin!

With no bad fiction and some solid hits in the first half of the mag, this issue of F&SF is definitely something to foray from home for (it's not as if the Vikings got home delivery of their sf mags.) That's something to toast to!

Here's looking forward to more of the same in the issues to come.


by Gahan Wilson



If you're here, you're obviously a big fan of classic fantasy and science fiction.  As you know, I founded Journey Press to revive lost classics and to bring into bring new works that evoke that same timeless quality.

I think you'll very much enjoy our newest release.  You've probably heard of Marie Vibbert, one of the biggest names in SFF magazines these days.  Her book, The Gods Awoke, is what I've been calling "a new New Wave masterpiece":

Do check it out.  You'll not only be getting a great book, but you'll be supporting the Journey!




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[September 23, 1963] Small Comforts (October 1963 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf
 
The Heart asks Pleasure – first –
And then – Excuse from Pain –
And then – those little Anodynes
That deaden suffering –

–Emily Dickinson

 
Our host has already provided a powerful and heartfelt essay on the horrific Birmingham church bombing that occurred this month.   Along with shock and sorrow, we should share a conviction to oppose the racial inequality which leads to such evils.
 

Members of the Congress of Racial Equality march in Washington, D. C., on September 22
 
It is understandable that many people, myself included, will seek some form of distraction from these troubling times.  For most Americans, that often means television.
 
The American Broadcasting Company, the youngest of the three big networks, premiered new series this month.  Of most interest is The Outer Limits. Watch for reviews of this science fiction anthology show from one of our fellow Galactic Journeyers soon.
 

 
Those who prefer tales of suspense may wish to watch The Fugitive, starring David Janssen as a physician wrongly convicted of murdering his wife.  He escapes from custody during a train wreck, and tries to track down the real killer while eluding the police.
 

 
Young viewers, and those who enjoy unrealistic sitcoms, are likely to tune in for The Patty Duke Show.  The talented young actress, best known for her Oscar-winning role as Helen Keller in The Miracle Worker, has a double role as a pair of identical cousins with opposite personalities.  It's a ridiculous premise, but may appeal to folks in search of lighthearted amusement.
 

 
The American popular music charts were dominated by two very different hit songs.  Earlier in the month, we had the silly but catchy little number "My Boyfriend's Back" by the Angels.
 

 
More recently, a remake of Tony's Bennet's 1951 hit Blue Velvet by crooner Bobby Vinton reached Number One.  Vinton's version first appeared on the album Blue on Blue, containing only songs with the word blue in the title.  When Blue Velvet became a smash hit, the album quickly reappeared with a new cover and a new title.
 

 
Of course, my favorite form of escapism is reading imaginative fiction.  Let's see if the latest issue of Fantasticprovides the kind of thing I'm looking for.
 

 
The Screen Game, by J. G. Ballard
 

 
We return to Vermillion Sands, a desert resort for the wealthy and the artistic, which has supplied the background for several of the author's stories in the past.  The narrator is a painter. He accepts a commission to produce a large number of backdrops to be used during the making of an avant garde movie. The filming is to take place at the mansion of a wealthy man whose mother died under mysterious circumstances.  He discovers a woman inside a number of screens he has painted with signs of the zodiac. Her hobby is placing jewels on the bodies of venomous insects. Secrets are revealed, and tragedy follows.
 
This story is full of striking images.  It proceeds with the inevitability of a Greek play.  The author's characters are larger-than-life archetypes.  Cover art and interior illustration by the great Emsh perfectly capture the tale's strange beauty and brooding sense of mystery.  Not all readers will care for the decadent aesthetes who populate Vermillion Sands, but I found the story compelling. Five stars.
 
The Wolf Woman, by H. Bedford-Jones
 

 
This month's reprint, taken from the pages of the August 1939 issue of Blue Book, features the time-viewing machine we encountered in last month's Fantastic.  Here it is used to spin a tale set in ancient India, at a time of war between Aryans and Dravidians.  Dravidians force the ruler of the Aryans to swear that her people will not emerge from their stronghold.  In return, the Dravidians will refrain from attacking them and supply them with food. The ruler slyly avoids swearing that she will not leave her castle.  She embarks on a one-woman mission to slay the ruler of the Dravidians, with the help of superstition and a tame wolf.
 

 
Although the introduction by science fiction historian Sam Moskowitz claims that this story is part of werewolf literature, in fact it provides a completely rational explanation for the myth of lycanthropy.  The heroine merely uses trickery to convince her enemies that she has the power to become a wolf. The author's version of the remote past is more romantic than realistic. By the end of the story, the characters act in ways only found in sentimental pulp fiction.  Two stars.
 
King Solomon's Ring, by Roger Zelazny
 

 
This story takes the form of a letter written by the narrator to a woman with whom he shares a checkered past.  The narrative is full of flashbacks and foreshadowing, making the complex plot difficult to follow. In brief, a man has a limited form of telepathy which allows him to communicate, at least partly, with aliens.  He leaves a life of crime for a form of legal plunder, in which Earth corporations take advantage of the inhabitants of other worlds. An encounter with insect-like aliens leads to a strange transformation. Although it's not always clear exactly what's going on, the author's brisk, informal style holds the reader's attention.  Three stars.
 
Let There Be Night, by Robert F. Young
 

 
A space traveler is marooned on a planet which is inhabited by aliens who are identical in every way to human beings, except for their language and culture.  The planet has a large moon with natural features that closely resemble a scowling face. This is the god of the inhabitants. Their lives are spent trying to appease their angry deity.  The spaceman sets himself up in the tradition of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, leading the people from simple farming to advanced technology. His only problem is that they refuse to purchase anything but necessities, due to their fear of the god.  He decides to use the armaments he has aboard his spaceship to alter the face of the deity, with unexpected results.
 
As the synopsis above reveals, this story is full of implausible happenings.  It is better read as a fable than as serious speculation. The author is obviously trying to say something about the way in which religion influences human behavior.  What happens at the end may be too cynical for some readers. Two stars.
 
Mating Season, by Wilton G. Beggs
 

 
Fleeing an impending atomic war, human colonists journey to a distant planet.  It turns out to be barely habitable. An alien disease devastates the population.  By the time the story begins, there are only three survivors. A woman is dying from the disease, but her husband is immune to it.  A teenage girl, born on the planet, is also immune. On a hunting expedition, the tensions among them reach a climax. This is an unrelievedly grim story.  It has emotional power but is unpleasant to read. Two stars.
 
A Night with Hecate, by Edward W. Ludwig
 

 
The witch-goddess Hecate wakes from a long slumber to discover herself in the year 1997.  The only reason she survives at all is because she has one remaining worshipper, an old man.  Alone, he will not be enough to keep her alive, because construction equipment is about to destroy her altar.  The mismatched pair spend the night seeking out another person to worship her. This is made nearly impossible by the fact that only those who believe in her can see her.
 
This blend of science fiction and fantasy takes place at a time when science and logic have nearly destroyed any sense of the magical.  It reads like something Ray Bradbury might have written when he was in a particularly dark mood. Hecate is both alluring and terrifying, taking humans as either lovers or sacrifices.  This ambiguity makes it hard to determine what the author really thinks about the war between rationality and fantasy. The narrative has a feverish, hypnotic quality. The macabre illustrations done by Lee Brown Coye in his unique style outshine the story itself.  Three stars.
 

 
Fifty cents is a small price to pay for hours of release from the all-too-real terrors of the modern world.  Take a Fantastic detour, and refresh your mind.