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[December 19, 1964] December Galactoscope #2

[The second Galactoscope for this month features a pair of new novels we felt we could not in good conscience leave unreviewed, particularly the latter. Enjoy this last review of books before the New Year!


by Victoria Silverwolf

The Day the Machines Stopped, by Christopher Anvil


Cover art by Ralph Brillhart

The Anvil Chorus

Christopher Anvil is the pseudonym of Harry C. Crosby, who published a couple of stories under his real name in the early 1950's. After remaining silent for a few years, he came back with a bang in the late 1950's, and has since given readers about fifty tales under his new name. His work most often appears in Astounding/Analog.

A typical Anvil yarn is a lightly comic tale about clever humans defeating technologically advanced but naive aliens. Perhaps his best-known story is Pandora's Planet (Astounding, September 1956), the first of a series of humorous accounts of the misadventures of lion-like aliens trying to deal with the chaos caused by those unpredictable humans.


Cover art by Frank Kelley Freas

The Day the Machines Stopped is his first novel. (At only 120 pages of text, I'm guessing it's well under 40,000 words, so it might be considered a long novella.) With its near-future setting, lack of space travel or aliens, and almost entirely serious tone, it's quite different from his usual creations.

The Eternal Triangle in the Science Lab

The first page of the book sets up a romantic conflict. Brian Philips, our protagonist, is a chemist for a research corporation. Carl Jackson is an electronics expert for the same company. They are both interested in Anne Cermak, who works with Brian. Carl is bigger, richer, and more used to getting his own way than his rival. Brian is a nicer guy, of course, and has the decency to admit that it's up to Anne to choose which of the two men, if either, she prefers.

Before we get too deep into this soap opera plot, we get our reminder that this is a science fiction novel. A news report on the radio reveals that a Russian scientist has defected to the West. He claims that an experiment in cryogenics at a Soviet facility in Afghanistan threatens civilization. It isn't very long before he proves to be right.

Who Turned Out the Lights?

Somehow or other, the experiment causes electricity to fail. Fully charged batteries provide no power. Automobiles stop dead in their tracks. (Diesel trucks still operate, but only when their electric starters are replaced by another kind of technology.) Working together despite their rivalry, Brian and Carl explore the surrounding area on bicycles. Things are the same all over, it seems.

The president of the research corporation, James Cardan, sees bad times coming. He manages to assemble firearms, provisions, and other supplies. His plan is to take his employees and their families, in a caravan of diesel trucks, to the northwest part of the United States, which he assumes will be safer than more populated areas.

Two Against Chaos

Without giving too much away, let's just say that circumstances cause Brian and Anne's father to miss the caravan. They set out on their own on bicycles, hoping to catch up to the others. (Due to frequent roadblocks caused by stalled cars, this isn't too unlikely. The diesel trucks are also slowed down by frequent stops for repairs.)

As expected, the breakdown in technology leads to bands of armed bandits, desperate for survival, battling over food. After many dangerous encounters, the pair of two-wheeled adventurers join Cardan's group.

Duking it Out

The caravan runs into a large, heavily armed, well-organized army, under the command of a man wearing a silver crown. He proclaims that the surrounding countryside, now known as the Districts United, is under his protection. He will punish those guilty of killing, arson, robbery, and bushwacking. (These specific crimes are listed under the acronym karb.) He calls himself the Districts United Karb Eliminator, or Duke. (This bit of satiric wordplay is one of the few traces of wit in the novel.)

Obviously, he's a megalomaniac, but he's a smart and effective one. Many survivors of the disaster are willing to place themselves under his dictatorship, given the alternative of fighting violent criminals. Brian, having few other choices, winds up working for the Duke, rebuilding steam engines, biding his time until he can escape with the rest of Cardan's group.

Worth Reading by Candlelight?

Anvil's style is plain and straightforward, so the book is very readable. His depiction of what would happen if electric power vanished is convincing, although the scientific explanation for why this happens is vague. The romantic subplot is less believable. The hero sometimes comes across as a ninny, given his willingness to trust someone who has already betrayed him. The ending comes as something of a deus ex machina. Overall, the novel is worth spending four dimes and two hours reading, but it's unlikely to become a classic.

Three stars.



By Rosemary Benton

The Other Human Race by H. Beam Piper

I could not be more happy with science fiction nowadays. On television we have shows like The Twilight Zone that are stretching the boundaries of story telling, and exploring new topics in a science fiction setting. In literature we have authors like H. Beam Piper who integrate a veritable cornucopia of academic fields into their stories about human exploration.

This is not the cut and dry kind of science fiction where it's us or them in a race for survival. Piper's books approach space exploration with a touching level of humanity and compassion. Alien and human language, diet, population demographics, social structures, and more are all examined and dissected by Piper's characters. His burgeoning "Little Fuzzy" series, following the success of his 1962 novel "Little Fuzzy", is a brilliant example of the ability Piper has to consider the humongous ramifications and complications of humanity contacting alien civilizations.

Fuzzies, Fuzzies Everywhere

"The Other Human Race" picks up mere weeks after the explosive conclusion "Little Fuzzy". Having been granted the universal recognition of "sapient", the fuzzies' home world of Zarathustra has been granted independence from the Chartered Zarathustrian Company. Word of the sensational trial has begun spreading like wildfire throughout human colonized space. But the fuzzies' new found notoriety has brought both altruistic and enterprising humans to Zarathustra.

On one side are the people who want to integrate the fuzzies into the wider galactic civilization while keeping their dignity and safety  in mind. This includes linguists, psychologists, nutritionists and other "Friends of the Fuzzies" who see value in the fuzzies as people, not animals. In contrast are those who would exploit the naive little people, as well as those who want to fill the power vacuum left by the CZC. Worst of all is the pressing concern about the kidnapping and enslaving of fuzzies to sell as pets in an illegal off-planet black market.

Things Just Got More Complicated

Piper balances that marvelous rush of scientific discovery in "Little Fuzzy" with a a weighty maturity in "The Other Human Race". While our protagonists take immense satisfaction with their continued study of the fuzzies, they bear a weighty responsibility. It inevitably comes down to them to make sure that the fuzzies’ quality of life is not sacrificed in humanity's drive to conserve the species.

Now that fuzzies have been made known to the universe, they face predators more devious and cunning than the native species of the planet. How can the Commission of Native Affairs go forward with plans to have humans adopt fuzzies and still protect them once a fuzzy is situated with a new human family?

The issue of the fuzzies' high infant mortality rate is also complicating things. To study why this is happening the group stationed on Zarathustra have to keep a miscarried fuzzy for study, despite the distress this causes the local fuzzy population. Their limited diet and off-balanced internal biology are also a tricky problem to study since the team can't just cut into a fuzzy and study its internal organs. Nor can they subject a fuzzy to a battery of tests to see how it reacts under certain stressors.

That same maturation is present in the character arcs of the cast. Those who were opposed to the recognition of the fuzzies as sapient in the first book are not permanently cast as evil. Instead, they change their attitudes towards the fuzzies with exposure to the little aliens. For instance, Victor Grego very early on in "The Other Human Race" comes across a fuzzy who has been scrounging around in his company's headquarters. After spending time with a member of the species that cost him access to the valuable resources on Zarathustra, Victor comes to realize that fuzzies are actually wonderful companions.

Our protagonists, including Jack Holloway and Ruth van Riebeek, must go through their own paradigm shift regarding those who were once their enemies. The grace with which some of these characters accept their former enemies as allies is laudable. Those employees of the now-charterless Zarathustra Company were acting in the interest of protecting their investments and livelihoods. But if they are willing to adapt and redeem themselves then, CZC or not, they should be congratulated and welcomed for their change of heart.

A Fragile New Sentience

H. Beam Piper's writing is altogether very touching. It's optimistic, but realistic in its acceptance that once something has been put in motion it will become infinitely more complicated. At the same time he seems to adhere to an inevitable sense of justice in his written worlds. Like a progressive modern scientist, Piper strongly advocates for the naturally given right people have to happiness and safety. All of his characters are entitled to it, and those who abuse or try to take away that right from others always get their just deserts.

Piper's writing continues to impress, and seems to be gaining more and more depth with each new novel. His "Little Fuzzy" series in particular has a lot of promise, and I hope to see more installations in the near future.

Five stars for Piper's well written sequel and masterfully built world.

[We are sad to have learned of H. Beam Piper's tragic passing just a few weeks ago. The genre has lost one of its brightest lights.]



[Holiday season is upon us, and Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963) contains some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. And it makes a great present! A gift to friends, yourself…and to the Journey!]


[November 21, 1964] Bridging the Gap (December 1964 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

I'll Cross That Bridge When I Come To It

Citizens of the Big Apple now have a new way to travel between Staten Island and Brooklyn, with the official opening of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. The structure is named for the Italian explorer Giovanni da Verrazzano, said to be the first European to sail into the Hudson River, way back in 1524. It is the longest suspension bridge in the world, spanning a little over four-fifths of a mile.


Note to proofreader: The name of the bridge has one z, the name of the man has two. Go figure.

More than five thousand people attended the opening ceremony on November 21st, including New York City Mayor Robert Ferdinand Wagner II and New York State Governor Nelson Rockefeller. Even President Johnson supplied a congratulatory speech.


The official motorcade crossing the bridge after the gold ribbon was cut. I don't think they had to pay the fifty cents that you or I would have to pay to get across.

If you'll allow me to stretch a metaphor to the breaking point, popular music can serve as a bridge between people of differing backgrounds, something we Americans could use during these times of racial strife. Case in point, as Rod Serling might say, is the fact that the Motown hit Baby Love, by the trio known as the Supremes, has been at the top of the US charts all month, and shows no sign of going away any time soon.


That makes the Supremes the first Motown act to reach Number One twice. Don't believe me? Ask any girl, or boy for that matter, who listens to Top 40 radio.

Appropriately, the latest issue of Fantastic features a lead novella about crossing the immense gap between the stars.

Why? To Get To The Other Side


Cover art by Lloyd Birmingham.

The Unteleported Man, by Philip K. Dick


All interior illustrations in this issue by George Schelling.

Rachmael ben Applebaum is a man with some serious problems. His father recently died, apparently by suicide. (There are hints that this may not be the case, but the question is never resolved.) Rachmael inherited the family business, which happens to involve faster-than-light starships. Not much faster, however; it still takes many years to reach their destinations.

Applebaum Enterprises is in ruins, because the rival company Trails of Hoffman has control over teleportation technology that reduces the travel time to minutes. In this future overpopulated world, millions of people have already paid a small fee to be zapped to Whale's Mouth, a planet orbiting the star Fomalhaut. The teleportation machine only works one way, so nobody has ever returned. The sole evidence for what things are like on Whale's Mouth comes via broadcasts from the planet. They make the place sound like a paradise compared to Earth.


Two minor characters in the story, considering a long-distance move.

Trails of Hoffman deliberately became a major stockholder in Applebaum Enterprises, so Rachmael now owes them a huge debt. They also have the legal right to ownership of the only starship he still possesses. Desperate to find out what's really happening on Whale's Mouth, he engages the services of Listening Instructional Educational Services, derisively known as Lies, Incorporated. Despite the name, the organization is actually interested in the truth. They serve as a private espionage agency for their clients.

What follows is a complex tale of plots and counter-plots, involving not only the groups I've noted above, but the United Nations, which is now a powerful world government, dominated by a reunited Germany. After many adventures that could have come out of a very strange, futuristic James Bond novel, Rachmael manages to set out alone on his starship, willing to spend eighteen years getting to Whale's Mouth and another eighteen years on a return flight to Earth. Meanwhile, Trails of Hoffman, Lies Incorporated, and the UN have their own plans, not to mention the folks on Whale's Mouth.

As usual for this author, there's a complicated background, plenty of twists in the plot, and multiple viewpoint characters. Also typical is the fact that things are not always as they seem. It's obvious from the start that Whale's Mouth isn't the Utopia it claims to be, but it's also not quite what Rachmael fears it might be. One of the organizations mentioned above seems to be an enemy, but turns out to be an ally. Even the title of the story is misleading.

As I've hinted, the story has the flavor of spy fiction, mixed with a lot of science fiction concepts. Although the mood is serious, even grim, there's a touch of satire and absurdity. (One character fears losing his job to a trained pigeon.) The plot always held my interest, and the characters are intriguing. (Some meet with sudden, unpleasant ends, so don't get too attached to them.)


See what I mean?

My one quibble is that the novella stops in an open-ended fashion. Perhaps the author intends to expand it into a novel.

Four stars.

I Am Bonaro, by John Starr Niendorff

Here's an odd little story by an author completely unknown to me. A disheveled old man stumbles out of a boxcar, unable to speak, wearing a sign around his neck, bearing the words in the title. He wanders around, holding out a sponge to everyone he meets. Flashback sequences reveal his miserable childhood, when he developed the power to change himself into anything in order to escape his tormentors. The end explains his current condition, and the reason for the sponge. The whole thing is weird enough to be worth a look.

Three stars.

IT, Out of Darkest Jungle, by Gordon R. Dickson

Written in the form of a screenplay, this is a spoof of bad science fiction monster movies. You've got the young, handsome scientist, the beautiful assistant who loves him, the older scientist who makes an amazing discovery, and the monster. It's all very silly, and almost too close to what it's making fun of. (It makes me feel like I saw this thing on Shock Theater.) Readers of Famous Monsters of Filmland may get a kick out of it.

Two stars.

They're Playing Our Song, by Harry Harrison

In this very short story, a quartet of long-haired rock 'n' roll musicians, pursued by screaming teenage girls, turn out to be something other than ordinary superstars. This broad parody of the Beatles has an ending you'll see coming a mile away.

One star.

The Fanatic, by Arthur Porges


As the blurb suggests, sensitive readers may wish to skip this story.

The title character believes that alien invaders take the form of animals. He thinks he can detect them, because their behavior is slightly different from that of ordinary animals. He uses very disturbing methods in his quest to discover the truth. The conclusion is predictable.

I have to confess that there's a certain horrifying effectiveness to the narrative, but it's not one that most readers will enjoy.

Two stars.

Merry Christmas From Outer Space, by Christopher Anvil

Told through letters and interstellar messages, this is a comedy about Earthlings and aliens. Two rival extraterrestrial forces are hidden on Earth. One places a mind-disrupting device near the other's location. It turns out that the thing was pointed the wrong way, leading to a series of confused messages between a writer and a science fiction magazine.


I guess this is the machine that causes all the trouble.

You could easily take out the stuff about the aliens, and wind up with a mundane farce about miscommunication. Unless you find back-and-forth exchanges about payment and cancelled checks to be funny, I doubt you'll be amused.


Could this be the author having his story accepted by the editor?

One star.

Worth Paying The Toll?


OK, so this isn't the right bridge. Sue me.

By coincidence, a copy of the magazine costs just as much as crossing the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. (I doubt toll collectors will accept it instead of cash.) Making an analogy between the two, I'd say that the structure starts off strong enough, but the quality of the architecture drops off rapidly after that, ending with a big splash into a metaphorical ocean of poor-to-mediocre stories.

Of course, things could be worse, if you happened to be crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge on November 7th of 1940.


The hopeful beginning.


The tragic end.

Let's just be thankful that reading a bad story isn't as dangerous as crossing a poorly designed bridge.

[October 24, 1964] Nothing Lasts Forever (November 1964 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

This Too Shall Pass

There is an ancient fable of Persian origin, retold many times over the centuries, about a monarch who asked the wisest sages in the realm for a statement that could apply to all possible situations. The answer, of course, is the title of this piece.

It is impossible to deny the ephemeral nature of all Earthly things, even if we speculate that the universe may be eternal. (The truth of that is still a matter of scientific debate, as to whether the cosmos will expand forever, or eventually collapse into itself.)

Evidence for the temporary nature of politics, for example, came with the unexpected fall of Nikita Khrushchev from power in the Soviet Union, as discussed by our host in detail.


Americans were caught by surprise, it seems.

Obviously, the most common evidence for the fragility of humanity is the universality of death. To mention just one recent example, Herbert Hoover passed away this month, at a more advanced age than any other former President of the United States.


Let him be remembered for his extraordinary work providing supplies of food to millions of starving Europeans during and after World War One, rather than his failure to deal with the Great Depression.

In a less sober way, the 1964 Summer Olympics, the first to be held in Asia, came to an end as well, with a memorable closing ceremony in the Tokyo setting.


Why summer games in October? To avoid the heat and typhoon season.

Few things are as short-lived as popular music, as shown by the fact that two songs reached the Number One position on the American charts this month. First came Oh, Pretty Woman, a tribute to feminine beauty by singer and guitarist Roy Orbison.


I'm used to seeing him with dark glasses.

This was quickly replaced by the nonsensically titled Do Wah Diddy Diddy by the British group Manfred Mann.


Confusingly, the name of the band is the same as the name of the keyboard player.

In Search of Eternal Life

Fittingly, the two lead stories in the latest issue of Fantastic deal with futile attempts to escape the ravages of time.


Cover art by George Schelling

The Knocking in the Castle, by Henry Slesar


Interior illustrations also by Schelling

We begin with a chilling tale set in modern Italy. A widow attends a party, during which the host suggests an excursion to a nearby castle, said to be haunted. The woman reluctantly goes along, only to scream in fear when a knocking emerges from within the dungeon. A flashback reveals the reason for her horror at the sound.

In the United States, she married a man whose ancestors built the castle. Once a year he goes back to the family estate, where his sister lives year-round, rarely emerging from seclusion. We soon discover that the man is well over two hundred years old, despite his youthful appearance. He returns to the castle for an annual dose of the liquid which keeps the siblings from aging.


The magical elixir, a few drops of which drives back the Grim Reaper.

A violent quarrel breaks out between brother and sister when the man wishes to share the potion with his bride. Driven to extreme measures, the sister hides the key to the chamber holding the supply of liquid in a particularly macabre way.


Extreme measures, indeed.

What follows is a grim account of the man's desperate attempt to find the key before time runs out. It all leads up to the frightening conclusion, explaining the woman's terrified scream.

I found myself imagining this story as one of those Italian Gothic horror movies that make their way to the USA in badly dubbed and edited form. That's one reason I enjoyed it, to be honest. I pictured Barbara Steele, veteran of such films, in the role of the mysterious sister. I could see the gloomy interior of the castle in glorious black-and-white, and hear the spooky violin music on the soundtrack.

From a fan of Shock Theater and Famous Monsters of Filmland, a very subjective four stars.

Elixir for the Emperor, by John Brunner


Illustrated by Virgil Finlay

Our second account of a quest for eternal life also takes place in Italy, but goes back thousands of years to the days of the Roman Empire. A general and a senator plot against the life of a popular emperor. Their subtle plan involves offering a large reward for an effective elixir of immortality, convincing the emperor that it really works, thanks to the deceptive aid of the ruler's trusted slave, and substituting poison.

Complicating matters is an old man, saved from death in the arena by the emperor's mercy. In gratitude, he manages to create a genuine potion granting endless life, but is too late to prevent the emperor from being murdered. He hatches his own plot against those who slew his savior.

This is mostly a story of palace intrigue and vengeance, with just a touch of fantasy. The ancient setting is convincing, and there's a bit of philosophical musing at the end. It's very readable, if not particularly memorable, and not quite up to the author's usual high standard.

A middle-of-the-road three stars.

The Man Who Found Proteus, by Robert Rohrer

The gods of mythology, with some exceptions, enjoy the freedom from death sought by the protagonists of the first two stories. This comic romp features the god Proteus, famous for being able to change into any shape.

A grizzled prospector encounters the deity, first as a moving rock, then in the form of a talking mule, and later as a series of letters appearing on the ground, allowing the god to announce his desires in writing. His wants are simple enough; he's eternally hungry, ready to devour anything the prospector can provide. As you might imagine, things don't work out well for the old sourdough.

For the most part, this is a silly comedy, more notable for a certain amount of imagination than for belly laughs.

A slightly amused two stars.

Seed of Eloraspon (Part 2 of 2), by Manly Banister


Illustrations by Schelling again

The hero of this thud-and-blunder yarn may not be immortal, but it sure seems that way some times. As you may recall from last month, he set out to find the ancient city of the long-vanished, technologically advanced inhabitants of an alien world, accompanied by a warrior princess, an enemy turned friend, and a fellow Earthling. After many battles with the wicked Tharn, and a strange encounter with their mysterious rulers, the Bronze Men, they were about to be killed by huge flying monsters.

The author cheats as badly as any old movie serial, by setting up a cliffhanger from which there seems no escape, and then offering a disappointing way out. It seems that the hero, because he's got the advanced mental powers of what the story calls a magnanthropus, is able to communicate with the creatures. It seems that they're on his side, and want him to fulfill his quest. (There's a weird explanation that the flying beasts, along with other beings on this world, are the incarnation of emotions. That seemed really goofy to me.)


A typical battle. I like the use of the circle.

After getting out of that scrape without any effort, our quartet of adventurers fight the Tharn, get captured, escape, and so on. Eventually the hero discovers the secret of the Bronze Men, which will come as no surprise to anybody who has ever read any science fiction, and triumphs over all challenges. This pretty much just involves pulling a lever, which is pretty anticlimactic.


A defeated Bronze Man, although it sure looks more like a stone statue to me.

I got the feeling that the author really rushed through this half of the story. Things move at a breakneck pace, but without much purpose or meaning. The whole thing just sort of fizzles out at the end, leaving the reader exhausted and unsatisfied.

A disappointed one star.

Hell, by Robert Rohrer

(The Table of Contents credits the story to somebody named Howard Lyon. As best as I can figure out, this is a pseudonym meant to disguise the fact that the author has two pieces in the same issue. Rohrer and Lyon, get it? The Table of Contents also lists the author of The Man Who Found Proteus as Robert H. Rohrer instead of plain Robert Rohrer, so I guess there was some confusion around the editorial offices.)

A man finds himself, as the simple title implies, in the infernal regions. He passes some damned souls lying immobile on a beach under a cloudy sky, then takes a ride across the water with a demonic boatman assumed to be Charon. The fellow has no fear of eternal punishment, because he feels ready to face any psychological torment Hell might provide. As you expect, his attitude turns out to be badly mistaken. In a way, he faces the worst kind of immortality, if only in a spiritual sense.

The ending of this brief tale is not surprising. I never did figure out what the point of the motionless bodies on the beach was supposed to be. The story is decently written, but there's not much to it.

A confused two stars.

The Mermaid and the Archer, by Barry P. Miller


Illustration by Robert Adragna

The title characters in this romantic fantasy are two department store manikins, unable to move but conscious and able to communicate through a kind of telepathy. They were crafted by a master puppet-maker, whose affection for his creations gave them life. A violent storm threatens their physical existence, but a painter is able to preserve their love in his art.

This gentle, bittersweet fable suggests a kind of immortality in the works of gifted artists. Written in a introspective, poetic style, it is sure to touch the reader's emotions.

A sentimental four stars.

Daughter of the Clan, by Wilton G. Beggs

A teenage girl, who was adopted as an infant, experiences a gnawing, unsatisfied hunger. An attempted rape leads to the discovery of her true nature, and she meets others of her kind. A particular kind of immortality is implied.

Despite a certain moody intensity in the author's style, this is a simple, predictable tale, which ends just when it starts to get more interesting. Like the lead story, it attempts to produce old-fashioned chills, but not as effectively.

An unsatisfied two stars.

From Here to Eternity

Although none of the stories in this issue are likely to win undying fame, a couple of them should remain in the reader's memory for quite some time, if not forever. It makes me wonder how long copies of the magazine are likely to exist; if not in paper form, maybe on microfilm or some other medium. Whether anybody will be reading this issue in the distant future is an unanswerable question. Let's just be grateful we can enjoy the best of it here and now.


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




[October 18, 1964] Out in Space and Down to Earth (October's Galactoscope #1)

There were quite a lot of books to catch up on this month, but two of them stood out for their quality.  As a result, they're going to get full-length treatments, and the other books we read will be dealt with later.  So please enjoy these exciting offerings, reviewed by two of the Journey's finest writers…


by Victoria Silverwolf

No Man on Earth, by Walter Moudy


Cover art by Richard Powers

Mister Moudy, Mysterious Missourian

Here's a writer who is completely new to me. In fact, after doing a little research, I believe that he is new to all readers. As far as I can tell, this is his first published work of fiction.

Beyond that interesting fact, I have been able to discover very little about the author. He comes from the Show Me state; he's an attorney; and his middle name is Frank. The book is dedicated to his wife, Marguerite.

In a way, it's a good thing to approach a novel without any preconceptions about the person who wrote it. We predict that certain elements will appear in a work by Heinlein or Bradbury. I have no idea what to expect from Walter Frank Moudy, so I hope I can provide an objective look at this fledgling effort.

Child of Violence

If you were to tear off the covers of this book — not that I suggest actually doing such a horrible thing — and hand it to me without the blurbs that appear on front and back, it would take me quite a while to figure out that it's a science fiction novel. The first few chapters make it seem like a backwoods fantasy, something like a darker version of the stories of the wandering balladeer John, which have appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for some time now. (They can also be found in the collection Who Fears the Devil?, published last year by Arkham House, if you can find a copy of this limited edition, and are willing to shell out four bucks.)


Cover art by Lee Brown Coye

The novel begins with a young woman about to give birth. Her painful memories tell us that she was raped by a man she thinks is a witch. Everything about the setting, and the woman's dialect, suggests that this takes place in a primitive settlement in the mountains. (At first I thought it was Appalachia, but later details make it clear that we're in the Ozarks.)

The villagers wait for the child to be born, intending to kill it as a unnatural monster. The woman's brother, and the local midwife, who has secrets of her own, manage to save the baby's life. The newborn boy seems to be perfectly normal, but he learns to speak by the age of six months, and grows into a super-intelligent preteen with strange powers. Both loved and hated by his mother, he runs away from home after she makes a feeble, tearful attempt to end his life.

Escape From the Reservation

We get our first hint that the novel is set in the future when we find out that the First World War took place a century and a half ago. What makes this even stranger is the fact that the mother believes it was the last war that ever took place. At this point, I wondered if the villagers were so isolated they knew nothing about recent history. That didn't make sense, because there's a school nearby with plenty of books. Was this some kind of alternate time line? The truth turned out to be quite different.

In fact, the villagers live in a reservation, separate from the rest of the USA in the late 21st Century, and are deliberately kept ignorant about the modern world around them. The midwife is actually an observer, studying their culture. The boy is the only resident ever to make his way out of the reservation, thanks to his superhuman intelligence. He manages to survive, and even thrive, in this strange new world, eventually becoming enormously wealthy, due to his ability to create highly advanced inventions.

Searching the Galaxy for a Father

The young man uses all his acquired money and power to build the world's first faster-than-light spaceship. This technology threatens to upset the balance of power, which could lead to Armageddon. (In this future world, there was a limited atomic war. After this disaster, both sides of the Cold War worked together to make sure that neither gained any advantage over the other. The FTL drive could destroy this uneasy peace.)

The protagonist wants to explore the cosmos, determined to find the humanoid alien who impregnated his mother. In order to ensure that he does not return the spaceship to Earth and reveal its secrets to either power, he is accompanied by a female Russian cosmonaut and a male American astronaut, each keeping watch over the other. Acting on the orders of the President of the United States, a Federal law official is also along for the ride. His mission is to ensure that the spaceship does not return at all, even if it means killing the young man, of whom he has grown very fond.

What follows is a series of encounters with several different alien species, mostly very similar to human beings. After many adventures, the main character eventually tracks down his father, leading to the dramatic conclusion.

A Very Mixed Bag

This is an unusual science fiction novel, not quite like anything else I've ever read. In addition to reminding me of Wellman, as I've mentioned, it also brought to mind traces of Philip K. Dick, A. E. van Vogt, and Theodore Sturgeon. That's a quartet of very different writers, and I'm probably greatly misleading you by mentioning their names.

The book consists of many highly varied sections, told from several points of view. One particularly interesting chapter consists of multiple first person narratives, relating how different alien societies, from primitive to advanced, react to the human visitors.

Despite its frequent changes of mood, the author manages to make the novel into a coherent whole. (One chapter, late in the book, can only be described as a bedroom farce. Even this lighthearted interlude turns out to be relevant to later events.)

The complex plot always kept my interest. The characters, for the most part, are fully developed and win the reader's empathy. (The fate of one character, whom I have not even mentioned, comes as a real shock, about halfway through the book.)

The story has a fair amount of sexual content, particularly for a paperback science fiction novel. This, by itself, shouldn't bother mature readers, but one scene repelled me. Without giving anything away, let's just say that it reminded me of the late Ian Fleming's James Bond novel The Spy Who Loved Me, which contains this statement from the female narrator.

All women love semi-rape. They love to be taken. It was his sweet brutality against my bruised body that made his act of love so piercingly wonderful.


Cover art by Richard Chopping, for what is generally considered to be the worst Bond novel

Like this quote, the scene in question made my skin crawl, particularly after the author effectively conveyed the young woman's horror of being raped at the very start of the story. Readers are also likely to find the end of the novel disturbing, in a similar way.

Despite my serious concerns about the book's treatment of sexual violence, overall I thought it was a good novel, particularly for a first effort.

Four stars.



by Cora Buhlert

Davy by Edgar Pangborn

Edgar Pangborn

Edgar Pangborn has been writing science fiction under his own name for thirteen years at this point and was apparently writing under other names before that. However, none of his stories have been translated into German and the availability of English language science fiction magazines is spotty at best. Therefore, I had never encountered Pangborn's work before, when I came across his latest novel Davy in my local import bookstore.

Davy by Edgar Pangborn

Davy does not look like a typical science fiction novel. It's a hardback, for starters, with a plain cover enlivened only by a drawing of a man's hand holding a French horn. However, the cover is completely appropriate, because Davy is not your typical science fiction novel. Besides, a French horn plays an important part in the story.

Davy is set approximately three hundred years after a nuclear war, followed by various natural disasters, wiped out most of North America and threw what remained back into the dark ages. The North Eastern US has been reduced to small fiefdoms and walled towns besieged by mutated beasts that roam the wilderness. The Holy Murcan Church rules over all, hoarding forbidden knowledge from the "Old Time" and keeping the population in ignorance. Though the reader will have to infer this for themselves, because Davy takes the form of a memoir written by the titular character, with occasional footnotes and asides from Davy's wife Nickie and good friend Dion.

Coming of Age in the Post-Apocalypse

In a rambling and roundabout way, Davy tells us that he was born in brothel, which is why he has no last name, raised in an orphanage and eventually sold as a bond servant to an innkeeper. Though he has little formal education, Davy is intelligent. By his early teens, he begins to question church doctrine, though he wisely keeps his doubts to himself, as heretics are mercilessly executed. Davy dreams of running away and eventually does, after the stealing the French horn seen on the cover from a "mue" – a mutant Davy had befriended in defiance of church doctrine – accidentally killing a city guard and losing his virginity to Emmia, the innkeeper's daughter.

We get a blow by blow account of the latter event. As a matter of fact, Davy talks quite a lot about his sexual adventures, which frequently involve wrestling his partners into submission. Davy certainly gives a lot more room to sexual matters than is common even in the fairly liberal science fiction genre. Readers who are uncomfortable with such scenes may want to skip this novel.

After his escape, Davy falls in with a group of deserters from one of the many skirmishes between the various fiefdoms, finds his father and eventually joins a troupe of travelling entertainers named Rumley's Ramblers, where his self-taught horn playing skills come in handy. After his father's death, Davy sets out on his own and meets Nickie, the love of his life, who is not just an aristocratic lady posing as a man, but also puts him touch with a secret underground society of heretics who try to preserve "Old Time" knowledge. Via Nickie, Davy meets her cousin Dion, monarch of the nation of Nuin (which roughly corresponds to modern day Massachusetts). Both Nickie and Dion and much of the Nuin aristocracy are casually described as black, while Davy himself is white and redhaired, racial prejudice having thankfully died out along with the pre-apocalyptic world.

Together, Dion, Nickie and Davy try to introduce reforms and break the stranglehold of the church. They lose and are driven out of the country. A ship takes them and a few followers to the Azores, where they settle down and build a utopian colony. The memoir is written during Davy's time aboard the ship. The novel ends with Davy planning to sail to Europe, after Nicky has died in childbirth, giving birth to a mutated baby that did not survive either.

A Unique Narrator

Davy's greatest strength is also its greatest weakness, for it is Davy's first person narration with all its charming idiosyncrasies that makes what could have been a standard post-apocalyptic yarn come to life. However, Davy is also given to digressions and if he decides to interrupt the ongoing story to talk about a storm at sea, the difficulties of making reading glasses without "Old Time" tools or to give us an overview of the various fiefdoms of his home region and their major cities, all of which bear the corrupted names of cities in the North Eastern US (which is probably more interesting to someone actually from the region, whereas I found myself constantly referring to a Rand McNally road atlas, trying to figure out what the names might stand for), the reader has no choice but to follow along. Many of Davy's digressions are fascinating, others are just dull. Furthermore, Davy also tends to skip over parts of his life – for example, he mentions taking part in a war to expel pirates from Cape Cod, but we never see this undoubtedly exciting episode.

Not Your Typical Science Fiction Novel

The Long Tomorrow by Leigh BrackettThe Chrysalids by John Wyndham

In the past fifteen years, nuclear war and its aftermath have become both a timely and popular subject for science fiction, resulting in such varied works as A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, The Long Tomorrow by Leigh Brackett, "That Only a Mother" by Judith Merril, On the Beach by Nevil Shute, Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank or The Chrysalids by John Wyndham. Davy shares some DNA with these works and borrows the post-apocalyptic theocracy trying to suppress knowledge from The Long Tomorrow and The Chrysalids and the state-sanctioned murder of mutants from "That Only a Mother" and again, The Chrysalids, while the tale of a young man from humble origins making his way in the world is reminiscent of the various juveniles of Robert A. Heinlein and Andre Norton. But in spite of superficial similarities with other works, Davy is its own thing, a science fiction novel that doesn't feel very science fictional.

Tom Jones movie posterThe Sot-Weed Factor by John Barth

At heart, Davy is a Bildungsroman, reminiscent of such 18th century novels as The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne and The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding as well as last year's successful film adaptation thereof. If we are looking for a modern day literary comparison, Davy is far closer to John Barth's 1960 novel The Sot-Feed Factor (and indeed Pangborn tuckerises Barth as an author of forbidden texts from the "Old Time") than to anything found in the pages of Analog, even if parts of Davy appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction in February and March 1962.

A highly enjoyable picaresque adventure in a post-apocalyptic New England.

Four and a half stars.


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[September 24, 1964] Looking Backward (October 1964 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

The Past is Prologue

The closing of two amusement parks in recent days caused many to look back nostalgically on the innocent fun of yesteryear.

Freedomland U.S.A., only four years old, shut its doors for good this month. Located in the Bronx, this Disneyland-with-a-New-York-accent featured several theme areas, including fun-filled, if not very accurate, recreations of the past and the future.


The world's largest, but not the most successful.

Only a few days later, the Coney Island attraction Steeplechase Park, which opened way back in 1897, received its last visitors as well.


Were you there six decades ago?

Popular music also turned to the past, as a new version of the folk song The House of the Rising Sun by the British rockers The Animals reached the top of the American charts early this month. It is still Number One as I type these words.


That's really lousy cover art for such a great song.

It's not unusual for a remake of an old number to become a hit, but this is an extreme example. Musicologists tell us the song's origins may go back as far as Sixteenth Century England, although this is a matter of debate. In any case, I was stunned, in a pleasant way, when I first heard this version. Eric Burdon's powerful vocals and Alan Price's compelling electronic organ solo make this a new classic, if you'll pardon the oxymoron.

In a similar way, the two longest stories in the latest issue of Fantastic seem to have come out of the yellowing pages of an old pulp magazine.

Gimme That Old-Time Sci-Fi, It's Good Enough For Me


Cover art by George Schelling

Beyond the Ebon Wall, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by Michael Arndt

This yarn starts off with the hero making a routine survey of a distant solar system. He finds a bizarre planet, half of which is missing, cut away from the other half by a black wall. Don't expect a hard SF story in the tradition of Hal Clement, with a scientific explanation for the weird phenomenon. Once the guy lands on the planet, the story becomes pure fantasy, of the sword-and-sorcery kind.

He meets four men, one of whom is an elderly fellow with a scarred face. There is also a pair of naked men fighting near the black wall. These two vanish into the wall, and the hero rather foolishly follows them. He finds himself trapped in another world, where he encounters another scarred old man, who seems to be the twin of the first one. We also get our first strong clue that we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, when a magpie recites a prophetic poem to him.

What follows is an adventure story, full of action, and yet somehow leisurely. The hero is captured, and becomes the slave of a seafaring merchant who treats him decently. He becomes good buddies with a huge guy, who serves as our source of exposition. The two of them act as bait during the hunt for a dangerous animal. Surprisingly, the creature becomes as loyal to him as a friendly dog.


Does this look like a good house pet to you?

Stir in a pirate captain, a sorcerer, battles, escapes, and chase scenes. The hero eventually winds up where he started, and the story ends with a confusing time travel paradox.

The space exploration opening adds nothing to the plot, and even the time travel theme could have been the result of black magic. Other than the awkward blending of genres, this is an old-fashioned swashbuckler right out of Weird Tales. The hero and his giant pal are likable enough, but their adventures don't lead to very much.

Two stars.

The Grooves, by Jack Sharkey


Illustration by George Schelling

A foolhardy young man tells his grandmother that he's going to go into the underground lair of a troll and steal its gold. The old lady warns him that he must never kill a troll. We also find out that trolls have inverted souls, so they walk on the ceilings of their caverns. (No, that didn't make much sense to me, either.)

At this point, I thought that the trolls were going to turn out to be aliens, or maybe people in spacesuits. Nothing of the kind happens. The story is pure fantasy, and the plot is as simple as can be. The stupid protagonist discovers why he shouldn't kill a troll, and learns the meaning of a couple of marks on the wall of the cave, the secret of which is neither surprising nor interesting.

Two stars.

Seed of Eloraspon (Part One of Two), by Manly Banister


Illustration by George Schelling

Allow me to indulge in a little reminiscing of my own. My very first article for Galactic Journey, almost exactly three years ago, was about the October 1961 issue of Fantastic. Included in the magazine was the second half of the short novel Magnanthropus by Manly Banister. For reasons I cannot explain, this work was very popular with readers. Here comes the sequel.

In the first novel, the main character crossed over from a future Earth to the planet Eloraspon when the two worlds somehow collided with each other across dimensions. As far as he knew, Earth was destroyed. He also found out that he was a Magnanthropus, which is a kind of superman with special mental powers.

The sequel begins with the hero traveling from the northern continent of Eloraspon to the southern one, in search of the city of Surandanish, the ancient capital of an advanced civilization, now vanished. (His Magnanthropus powers direct him to seek out the place, for reasons not yet clear.) Along the way he meets the fairy-like beings we saw in the first story, although they don't have anything to do with the plot, so far.


The charming but irrelevant butterfly people.

He rescues a beautiful warrior princess from a monster and they fall in love so fast it'll make your head spin. Interfering with their romance are the Tharn, a bunch of nasty, ugly folks who live only to kill and enslave. The hero battles one Tharn who used to be a regular fellow, but who lost his good looks when he consumed some of the addictive substance that makes the Tharn so hideous and mean. (Take a look at the cover art for a portrait of a Tharn. The real thing isn't anywhere near that big, however, only a little larger than a non-Tharn.)

Defeated in battle, the Tharn-who-wasn't-always-a-Tharn becomes the hero's loyal companion. Together they set out after the princess, who was captured while they were fighting. They get thrown in a dungeon, but the hero uses his convenient Magnanthropus abilities to travel through walls and attack their captors.


Take that, Tharn scum!

He also acquires another ally, a fellow Earthman who tells him that the world wasn't really destroyed, although it was badly shook up. They meet the mysterious Bronze Men, who are supposed to be immortal, although the hero apparently kills one of them pretty quickly. Our trio of Good Guys wind up captured again, and this half of the novel ends as they are about to be slain by a flying monster, while the princess is held captive by the leader of the Tharn.

Like the lead novelette by MacApp, this is an old-fashioned fantasy adventure with some science fiction trappings. I suspect that fans of Edgar Rice Burroughs made up a good portion of those who praised the first novel, with a comment like they don't write 'em like that anymore. Frankly, I'm glad they don't.

Two stars.

Home to Zero, by David R. Bunch

Nobody will ever accuse this author of rehashing old-time stories. His latest offering is a typically opaque and depressing bit of prose, written in his usual eccentric style. As far as I can tell, it has something to do with a being who used to be a man, but is now all machine. He, or it, or possibly humanity in general, sent probes out to the ends of the cosmos. Now it, or he, seeks only nothingness. Maybe. Your guess is as good as mine. At least it's weird enough, and short enough, to avoid boredom.

Two stars.

Encounter, by Piers Anthony


Illustration by Robert Adragna

The protagonist lives in an ultra-urbanized future, where most people never leave their homes. He travels an incredibly long road through a deserted area, inhabited by packs of feral dogs and hordes of rats. Although the setting is the Atlantic coast of North America, he also encounters savage peccaries, and, most amazingly, a tiger. The man and the cat become wary allies in their mutual battle against the wild pigs.

It was a relief to read a story that was neither corny nor incomprehensible. It's a reasonably enjoyable little tale, which achieves its modest goals in an efficient, if unspectacular, way.

Three stars.

Midnight in the Mirror World, by Fritz Leiber


Illustration by Virgil Finlay

One of the easiest ways to look back at things is to gaze into a mirror. It's not a coincidence, I believe, that the word reflection can refer to an image seen in a shiny surface, or to the act of musing over one's experiences. Such were my thoughts, anyway, when I read the newest creation by a master of imaginative fiction.

The protagonist is a man in late middle age, divorced and living alone, who sleeps during the day and enjoys his three hobbies of astronomy, correspondence chess, and playing classical music on his piano at night. (Sounds like a pretty nice lifestyle to me, to tell the truth.)

As part of his nightly routine, each midnight he passes between two parallel mirrors on his way to the piano. As many of us have experienced, this creates the illusion of an infinite number of selves within the glass. One night, he sees a dark figure touching one of his reflections, which seems terrified. Each night the figure comes closer, until he recognizes it. Inevitably, the figure emerges, leading to a final encounter.

The synopsis I've provided makes this sound like a supernatural horror story, and that's certainly an accurate description. Will you believe me if I tell you that it's also a love story, and that the frightening ending can also be seen as a happy one?

Beautifully written, with the author's elegant style and gift for striking images on full display, this quietly chilling tale draws the reader into its world of darkness and light. The conclusion may not be completely unexpected, but it's a fine story nonetheless.

Four stars.

Nostalgia Ain't What It Used To Be

So how was this literary trip down memory lane? Disappointing, for the most part. I suppose it's only natural to yearn for the things one enjoyed at a much younger age, but science fiction and fantasy have progressed, I think, over the past several decades. It's no longer enough to have mighty heroes combating fiendish villains in an exotic setting.

The avant-garde writings of Bunch warn us, however, that's it's possible to go too far the other way, and throw out the baby of clarity with the bathwater of familiarity. Leiber, and to a lesser extent, Anthony, understand this, and manage to provide readers with something new, while paying the proper amount of tribute to literary traditions.

I wonder if, sometime in the Twenty-First Century, SF fans will look back at the stories of the Sixties with a wistful sigh, and crack open the brittle pages of an old magazine in an attempt to bring back the sensations that felt so new at the time.


An old science fiction classic worth revisiting.

[September 16, 1964] The Waiting Game (November 1964 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Patience is a Virtue

If you're like me, you look forward to the arrival of the latest issues of your favorite magazines at the local newsstand. You carefully calculate the exact day they'll show up and get there ahead of time, eager to meet the delivery person who loads all the publications off the truck. There they are, ready for the metal wires that hold them together in bundles to come off so they can go on display.

You may understand my consternation, then, when Worlds of Tomorrow failed to make an appearance on the scheduled date last month. Since it's a relatively new magazine, I figured that, like so many other science fiction publications, it was out of business.

Imagine my delight when I saw it again, thirty days later. Why the delay? Let me hand the microphone to editor Frederik Pohl, who can explain the situation better than I can, and who will also offer us a preview of the next issue.

Thanks for clearing that up, Fred. Now let me take a look at the contents of the current issue.

Better Late Than Never


Cover art by George Schelling

Killer!, by Robert Ray


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

Taking up one-third of the magazine is a novella by an author new to me. The gentleman with the gun, pictured above, is trained as an assassin by the taller man standing next to him, his half-brother. There is no love lost between the two. The intended target is the newly arisen dictator of a planet populated by very human aliens. (The only important difference between the two species is that the aliens are all short, light-skinned, and fair-haired. In this future, almost all human beings are tall, dark-haired, and have black or dark brown skin. Our antihero happens to be one of the rare persons who resemble the aliens.)

The agency for which the half-brothers work believes that the dictator poses a threat to Earth, even though his species does not yet have space travel. If that seems paranoid, well, so do nearly all the characters in this grim story.


The target.

The assassin's mission is to disguise himself as an alien and use a local weapon to kill the dictator, so Earth won't be blamed. What he doesn't know, but the reader does, is that the agency planted a hypnotic suggestion in his brain, so that he will kill himself immediately after the assassination.


Surfing down to the planet.

As soon as he arrives on the alien world, things go wrong. The dictator's forces are far more powerful and technologically advanced than the agency thought, thanks to the secret intervention of another species of alien. (They aren't quite so human, thank goodness, so we can keep track of who's doing what.)


The hero in typical form, about to knock out an innocent bystander.

What follows is an extended series of captures, escapes, chases, and violent battles. The protagonist, formerly ready to murder without qualms, slowly develops a conscience after he kills several aliens.


Take that, alien scum!

He eventually figures out that he's been set up as a sacrificial lamb, and tries to carry out his mission while staying alive. It all leads up to a very dark ending.

This is a fast-moving, action-packed spy adventure, with plenty of twists and turns in the plot. It's a quick read for its length, although some of the author's sentences are a little clumsy. The story's cynical view of espionage reminds me of last year's bestselling novel The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, by John le Carré, although I certainly wouldn't say it's as good. Worth reading, but not a classic by any means.

Three stars.

Natural History of the Kley, by Jerome Bixby

This mock article deals with microscopic intelligent beings who live on animal hairs. Humans only find out about them after they've been wiped out by a substance that kills all animal parasites on Earth. The mood changes from black comedy and satire to sheer silliness, as the author treats us to a series of groan-inducing puns. It's inoffensive, and not as bad as a Feghoot, but that's about the best I can say.

Two stars.

The Long Way, by A. Bertram Chandler and Susan Chandler


Illustration by Norman Nodel

A male space explorer and a female artist at a nudist colony, not quite romantically involved, meet a fellow who believes in dowsing. He's able to demonstrate the procedure successfully. (It seems that dowsing works better when you're naked.) Convinced that there's something to it, the spaceman does his own dowsing, in order to find a missing earring for the artist. Because the earring is shaped like a star, and the man is thinking about interstellar travel at the time, they wind up very far from home indeed. They are able to make their way back to Earth by doing some more dowsing, but things don't turn out the way they hope.

This collaboration between a well-known author and his more obscure wife isn't very convincing, as you can probably tell from the above synopsis. The theme of dowsing makes me wonder if it was intended for the pages of Analog. I think even John W. Campbell, Jr., would reject the premise as too unbelievable. The twist ending adds another layer of implausibility.

Two stars.

The Kicksters, by J. T. McIntosh


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

A group of thrill-seeking teenagers, the sons and daughters of the wealthy, play dangerous games of chicken to see who's the bravest. Their latest competition, as shown above, involves free-falling from a great height while wearing a jet pack. The trick is to turn on the jets at the last possible moment, in order to avoid being smashed into a pulp.

The boldest of the gang is a girl named Peach. Bored with risking her life in the usual ways, she decides on an even more hazardous prank. She and her boyfriend, who tries to convince her to drop the whole thing all the way through the story, travel to the Moon under false identities. She sneaks into the main jet of a spacecraft ready to return to Earth. The ship doesn't use the main jet until it's about to land, so she'll be able to survive inside a spacesuit. The joke is to force the ship to turn around and land on the Moon again. (It doesn't need to use the main jet in the lesser gravity of the satellite.)


Peach, approaching the ship unseen.

The captain of the spacecraft hates spoiled brats, particularly female ones. Since he doesn't have absolute proof that anyone is inside the main jet, even though Peach's boyfriend, as planned, lets everybody know, he refuses to delay his journey to Earth. The second-in-command, desperate to save the girl's life, comes up with various plans, but all of them prove to be impossible. It seems as if Peach is doomed.

The sense that the laws of physics are conspiring to kill the heroine reminds me of the famous story The Cold Equations by Tom Godwin. The story creates genuine suspense as to whether the protagonist is going to live or die. I'll admit that the situation is a bit contrived, but I have to give the author credit for thinking up all possible objections to the premise, and answering them in a logical fashion. Peach, although definitely foolhardy and selfish, also manages to be appealing in some ways. The captain and the second-in-command also turn out to be more complex characters than they might seem at first.

Four stars.

The Carson Effect, by Richard Wilson


Illustration by Norman Nodel

At first, this story seems to be nothing but a series of unrelated vignettes. A newspaper reporter struggles over the writing of an article about something that hasn't happened yet. A man, desperate for money to pay for his wife's operation, makes a feeble attempt at robbing a bank, only to have the teller give him much more cash than he demands, without a word of argument. A woman nervously asks her employer for a small amount of money to make up for the taxi she had to take to perform an errand, and winds up getting hundreds of dollars and the rest of the day off. A six-year-old boy thinks he can buy an extremely expensive brooch for his mother from Tiffany's, and the clerk gladly sells it to him for one dollar. The President of the United States resigns his office, turning it over to the Vice President, who is obviously unfit for the job.

We return to the reporter and discover the reason for these strange events, which I won't reveal here. I also won't talk about the ironic ending, which changes everything that happened before. Suffice to say that the story looks at a very big event from several very small perspectives, and does so in an effective manner.

Four stars.

The Fruit of the Tree, by Lester del Rey

This issue's non-fiction article speculates about the possibility of altering the genetic characteristics of living organisms. By 1980, the author believes, we'll be able to produce fruits and vegetables that will stay edible, without refrigeration, for many years, and even have flavors previously unknown. We'll be able to get edible nuts, maple and/or latex sap, and lumber, better than any used today, from a single tree. New kinds of animals will appear, supplying carnivores with novel cuts of meat. (Vegetarians, like myself, will have plants that taste exactly like meat. I'm not sure I want that.) Scientists will create replacement organs, grown from scratch, for those suffering from disease.

The author lets his imagination run wild, coming up with a lot of ideas for science fiction stories, if nothing else. I doubt I'll see all these wonders a mere sixteen years from now, but I could be wrong. Even if it's hard to believe everything this essay says, it makes for interesting reading.

Three stars.

Somewhere in Space, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by John Giunta

Some time before this story begins, people found alien teleportation technology on Mars. Since then, it's been used routinely, with few problems. Up until now, that is. Without explanation, folks without close relatives or friends disappear into thin air after using the teleportation device. The protagonist is a technician who accepts the dangerous but extremely lucrative assignment of figuring out what's going on. Not only does he know as much about the technology as any human being can, he's another loner, expected to vanish when he goes inside the machine.

He winds up on an unknown planet, naked and without any of his equipment. There to meet him is a very human alien, a young woman whose only differences from a human female are the fact that she has no thumbs, and that her skin is an odd color. She's one of the slaves that another group of aliens kidnap from all over, including Earth. (Our hero is very lucky that the slavers aren't around to grab him. They happen to be at some kind of celebration, getting drunk.)

With the help of the woman, the protagonist gets away from the slave facility, facing the challenge of surviving on a strange, alien world. Things get really weird when he reaches a mountain, which is really an ancient, all-powerful being, able to take on any form it pleases.


The ball of light the mountain uses to communicate with the man.

After many adventures, and falling in love with the alien woman, the hero battles the slavers against seemingly impossible odds, using only simple weapons like rocks and wooden spears. Can he possibly defeat the Bad Guys, return to Earth, and win the Girl? Well, maybe with a little help from a deus ex machina, in the form of a god-like mountain-being.


Chaos at the slave camp.

You might be able to tell from my tone that I found it hard to take this wild adventure seriously, although it's certainly not intended as a comedy. The nonstop mishaps that the hero faces kept me reading, even if I didn't believe a second of it. The mountain, alien, god, or whatever you want to call it, is the most interesting character. Although it reminds me of the lead novella in some ways, it's got a much more optimistic mood.

Three stars.

Worth Waiting For?

So, did the delay in receiving this issue have any effect on my reaction to it? Did I have high expectations that it failed to meet? Or, did I assume that the extra month would sour me on the magazine, so that I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy it?

None of the above, really. This is a typical issue. A couple of decent, if not great, adventure yarns; a couple of good stories; a couple of poor stories; and a so-so article. Good enough for half a buck, I'd say.

I guess biding my time until it appeared paid off. It's better than, say, waiting around for somebody who never shows up.

[July 30, 1964] Are You For Real? (Simulacron-3 AKA Counterfeit World by Daniel F. Galouye)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Life is But a Dream

I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?

— Zhuangzi, Chinese philosopher, 4th century BC

Science fiction writers have often pondered the nature of reality, and speculated about the ways in which appearances can be deceiving. Among the many stories making use of this theme, a few stand out as particularly thoughtful explorations of the real and the illusory.


Phillips didn't make the cover.

First published in Astounding half a dozen years ago, The Yellow Pill by Rog Phillips presents two characters with contradictory views of reality. Each believes the other to be hallucinating. The drug mentioned in the title changes their view of things, and it's up to the reader to decide who is right, if either. The story obviously had a strong impact on readers, as it has already been reprinted in anthologies in the USA and the UK, as well as being adapted into an episode of the British television series Out of This World.


Pohl did.

A few years earlier, Frederik Pohl tackled a similar idea in his story The Tunnel Under the World. The inhabitants of a small town live the same nightmarish day over and over again. It turns out that neither the community nor its inhabitants are what they seem to be. This powerful tale of deception and manipulation of reality must have struck a chord, as it was quickly adapted into an episode of the radio series X Minus 1.


Note that this was published not as science fiction, but as a novel of menace.

Philip K. Dick's novel Time Out of Joint explores related concepts in a surrealistic way. The protagonist thinks he lives in a typical American suburb in 1959, the year the book was published. The reader soon discovers that something is odd about this version of our mundane world, such as the fact that nobody has ever heard of Marilyn Monroe. Things get really bizarre when a soft-drink stand disappears, replaced with a small slip of paper bearing the words SOFT-DRINK STAND. Further weird breakdowns of a simulated reality lead the hero to discover the truth about the world and himself.

Bits and pieces of all three of these works came to mind as I read the latest novel from an author whose previous books won a great deal of praise from the Galactic Journeyers.

The Visionary From the Big Easy


The author at the time he started publishing science fiction.

Born in New Orleans, Daniel Francis Galouye served in the US Navy during World War Two, returning to work as a journalist. Fortunately for SF fans, he doesn't limit his writing to reportage. Ever since 1952, he's appeared frequently in the genre magazines. It took him a while to make the leap into novels, but when he took the jump he did so with a splash.

Galouye's first book-length work, Dark Universe, made a big hit with our host, as well as with Hugo voters. It nearly took the prize, bested only by the unstoppable juggernaut of Robert A. Heinlein's controversial novel Stranger in a Strange Land, which was not so popular around here.

Although it was not nominated for a Hugo, Galouye's second novel, Lords of the Psychon, won plaudits from a Galactic Journeyer. Will he continue this lucky streak with his newest effort? Let's take a look and find out.

Planet of the Pollsters


The American edition, with anonymous cover art.


The British edition, with no cover art.

Simulacron-3, known in the United Kingdom as Counterfeit World, takes place in the middle of the 21st century. It's a technologically advanced place, with flying cars, moving pedestrian sidewalks, and many other wonders familiar to readers of futuristic fiction. The most noticeable change in society is that opinion polls dominate commercial and political life. One-quarter of all employees are engaged in this line of work, and answering their questions is mandatory. So far we have a satiric portrait of the business world, similar to the sort of thing Frederik Pohl and Cyril M. Kornbluth offered in their novel The Space Merchants, but Galouye has something else in mind.

Leaving the Party Too Soon

The narrator, Douglas Hall, works for business tycoon Horace P. Siskin, as a computer expert for Reactions, Incorporated (REIN). Like so many other companies in this future, REIN studies consumer reactions in order to determine which products will sell. The book begins with Douglas attending a party at Horace's fabulous mansion. He is about to take control of the Simulacron-3 project from the recently deceased Hannon Fuller, killed in what seems to be a freak accident.

Simulacron-3 is a computer-simulated community, inhabited by artificial people who interact with each other and their environment as if they were real. By studying their reactions to various situations, it is possible to determine how living persons would behave under the same circumstances. This threatens to eliminate the need for pollsters, putting them all out of work.

Morton Lynch, the security chief for REIN, shows up in an agitated state. He claims that Hannon discovered something of critical importance that led to his demise. Not much later, he simply vanishes into thin air. Douglas reports the disappearance, but nobody else even remembers that Morton ever existed. Because Douglas suffers from occasional blackouts, he begins to doubt his own sanity.

It Takes All the Running You Can Do to Stay in the Same Place

With the help of Hannon's adult daughter Jinx, Douglas searches through her father's papers. They find a drawing of an ancient Greek warrior and a tortoise. This is, of course, a reference to the famous Zeno paradox, in which Achilles can never catch up to the slow-moving animal. The relevance of the sketch is obscure, but it seems to be a vital clue to Hannon's secret. Whatever it may mean, it disappears quickly, and Jinx denies that she ever saw such a thing.

Tensions mount between REIN and the powerful pollsters organization, leading to mass demonstrations and the possibility of a violent attack on the company. As if Douglas didn't have enough problems, Siskin plans to use Simulacron-3 to predict voting behavior, in order to make himself the leader of a one-party state. Add to this the fact that Douglas narrowly escapes being killed, by a flying car and then a bomb, and our hero is in plenty of hot water. Complicating matters is the presence of Dorothy Ford, Siskin's personal secretary/mistress, who uses her seductive wiles to keep a close eye on Douglas in order to make sure he doesn't spill the beans about her employer's political ambitions. There's also the possibility that the police suspect Douglas murdered Hannon. The guy just can't catch a break!

I've mentioned a lot of characters, but I've also left out quite a few. The story involves a lot of plots and counterplots, with the narrator never quite sure who's working for him and who's working against him. Up to now we have a science fiction suspense story, with a whodunit aspect, but things are about to get a lot different.

Stop! Read No Further If You Don't Want to Learn the Big Secret!

Almost exactly halfway through the book, Galouye throws in a major plot twist. Astute readers may anticipate the revelation that follows, but others may not.

Are you sure you want to find out? Last chance to turn back. OK, here we go.

Douglas finds out that his entire world is a computer simulation, and that he himself is no more than an artificial human being living inside it. The rest of the novel deals with his effort to escape into the real world, while avoiding the efforts of the unseen, unknown, god-like person running the simulation to eliminate him.

It's Safe to Read Again

Simulacron-3 (or, if you prefer, Counterfeit World) is a fascinating, cleverly plotted novel, full of intriguing concepts and plenty of fast-paced action. If some parts are melodramatic, and if other aspects seem implausible, those are minor flaws compared to the intriguing theme. I suspect it will earn more praise for the author, and I wouldn't be too surprised if somebody adapts it into a movie someday; maybe even more than once!

Four stars.

Until next time, try to keep a grip on what's real!


An advertisement for a drug invented a few years ago.

[July 26, 1964] Yesterday's Tomorrows (First Men in the Moon and Other Steam Science Fiction Movies)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Monsieur Verne and Mister Wells at the Movies

A decade ago, Walt Disney Productions had a big hit on their hands with their cinematic adaptation of the famous Jules Verne novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. It was popular with both audiences and critics, winning Academy Awards for Art Direction and Special Effects. It was a lovely film, full of charming details combining futuristic technology with aesthetics of the past.

The super-submarine Nautilus; a thing of beauty.

The success of this nostalgic science fiction adventure led to a number of Verne adaptations. Most notable was Around the World in 80 Days, a lush, big budget production notable for the number of Hollywood stars who made cameo appearances.

Old Blue Eyes in a tiny role as a piano player.

Since then we've had enjoyable films taken from the French author of Extraordinary Voyages, including Journey to the Center of the Earth, Master of the World, and Mysterious Island, all reviewed here at Galactic Journey.  A couple of lesser Verne adaptations, namely Valley of the Dragons and Five Weeks in a Balloon, did not escape the acid pen of our local critics.  There was also From the Earth to the Moon, which somehow managed to slip under the radar of our Galactic Journeyers.  This was a handsomely filmed, if rather dull, account of an American munitions manufacturer (Joseph Cotton) using a powerful explosive to send a spaceship to the Moon just after the Civil War.


Blast off!

Not to be outdone, H. G. Wells, the British master of Scientific Romances, came to the big screen not too long ago in the George Pal production of The War of the Worlds, another Oscar winner for Best Special Effects.

A Martian war machine on the prowl for Earthlings.

Although this version of the story updated the setting to modern times, Pal returned to the Nineteenth Century with an even more highly regarded Wells adaptation, The Time Machine, which won kudos from our host.

With the exception of The War of the Worlds, what these films have in common is the fact that they take place in the Victorian Era. For lack of a better term, we might refer to this sub-genre of fantastic cinema as Steam Science Fiction. I was recently able to attend a secret sneak preview of the latest offering of this kind, already released in the United Kingdom, and due to appear in American theaters later this year. Watch for the trailer the next time you're at your local cinema.

Fly Me to the Moon; Or, A Trip to the Moon on Gossamer Wings


In Dynamation and LunaColor, no less.

First Men in the Moon is directed by Nathan Juran, a veteran of science fiction films, both good (20 Million Miles to Earth) and not so good (The Brain from Planet Arous.) The screenplay for this British production comes from the combined pens of Nigel Kneale (best known to SF fans across the pond for his television serials The Quatermass Experiment and Quatermass II) and Jan Read, who contributed to the delightful fantasy film Jason and the Argonauts.


Don't forget, it's in, not on.

We begin in the near future, as an international team of astronauts land on the Moon.  They find a Union Jack and a note claiming the satellite in the name of Queen Victoria.


A mystery!

The note happens to be written on the back of a legal contract mentioning the name Katherine Callender.  Investigation leads to the discovery of Arnold Bedford, the man Miss Callender married long ago, now nearly a century old.  He tells his incredible story, and we go into a long flashback, firmly in the land of Steam Science Fiction.


Martha Hyer and Edward Judd as the two Victorian lovebirds.

In 1899, our happy couple encounter Joseph Cavor, an eccentric scientist who creates a substance that deflects gravity. Having a healthy ego, he names the stuff Cavorite.   As if that were not enough, he plans to use it to launch a spaceship on a lunar voyage.


Lionel Jeffries as the inventor.

Arnold agrees to go to the Moon with Cavor, which seems like a rash decision for a man about to be married.  Through a series of unforeseen circumstances, Katherine winds up accidentally accompanying them; you know how much trouble women are!  The unlikely trio winds up on the surface of Earth's satellite after a particularly rough landing.


The charming little spaceship approaches its target.

Katherine is left behind, no doubt to prepare tea and crumpets, while the two men don diving suits and set out to explore this strange new world.

Things really get interesting when our heroes fall down a shaft and wind up inside the Moon, justifying the title.  It seems that the interior is inhabited by insect-like, sentient beings, whom Cavor dubs Selenites.  The plot, mostly played for light comedy up to this point, takes a more serious turn when Arnold, panicking at the sight of the aliens, attacks and kills several of them.  The two men escape back to the surface, only to discover that the Selenites have dragged their spaceship, and the woman inside it, underground.


A Selenite, brought to life through the magic of Dynamation.

What follows is a fast-moving adventure, as the intrepid pair explore the city of the Selenites in search of Katherine, battle a huge, caterpillar-like monster, and encounter the Grand Lunar, ruler of the Selenites.   An interesting aspect of the story is the contrast between Cavor, the man of science, who wants to exchange knowledge with the Selenites, and Arnold, the man of action, who believes they pose a threat to humanity.


What good is a science fiction thriller without a huge monster?


The Grand Lunar, not at all happy about human aggressiveness.

An ironic ending brings us back to the near future, as we find out what happened to the three explorers and the Selenites.

Adding greatly to the film's appeal is the outstanding stop-motion animation of Ray Harryhausen.  The eerie and imaginative world inside the Moon excites the viewer's sense of wonder, and the Victorian design of Cavor's spaceship provides a great deal of charm.  You might have to be a little bit patient with the relaxed pace of the opening scenes, but the result is well worth the wait.

Four stars.

As we enter a new era of space exploration, with the very real possibility that a human being will stand on the surface of the Moon within a decade, it's fitting that we look back on those who imagined the future and wrote about it.  I hope that more Steam Science Fiction movies appear in theaters in the days to come, and that we never forget the dreamers of yesteryear.


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




[July 20, 1964] Dashed Hopes (August 1964 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

(if you found us at San Diego Comic-Con and can't figure out why we seem to be 55 years behind you, this should clear things up!)

Bad News Drives Out Good News

This month started off in a optimistic way, as President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act on July 2, after a long struggle with Dixiecrats (segregationist Southern Democrats) and some Republicans.


An historic moment.

The very next day, restaurant owner and unsuccessful political candidate Lester Maddox, with the help of fellow segregationists wielding ax handles, drove three civil rights activists away from his Pickrick Cafeteria.


I hope he continues to lose elections in his native state of Georgia.

Not to be outdone, George Wallace, Governor of Alabama, made an impassioned speech against the Civil Rights Act on the Fourth of July.


You can see the anger that fills this man.

Never before in the history of this nation have so many human and property rights been destroyed by a single enactment of the Congress. It is an act of tyranny. It is the assassin’s knife stuck in the back of liberty. With this assassin’s knife and a blackjack in the hand of the Federal force-cult, the left-wing liberals will try to force us back into bondage.

I don't think I need to point out the bitter irony of Wallace's tirade being delivered on Independence Day. If my disgust at his rhetoric makes me a left-wing liberal, so be it.

On the international front, any hope that United States involvement in the conflict in Vietnam might be lessened was crushed during the Battle of Nam Dong. North Vietnamese forces attacked a camp manned by three hundred and sixty South Vietnamese soldiers, twelve American Green Berets, and one Australian adviser. When the fighting ended, fifty-seven South Vietnamese, two Americans, and the Australian were dead.


Artist's impression of the battle

After such discouraging developments at home and abroad, it seems petty and selfish to concern myself with trivial matters of entertainment. Be that as it may, I couldn't help feeling annoyed when the upbeat Beach Boys tune I Get Around lost its Number One position in the USA to Rag Doll, another cloying melody from my personal bête noire, the Four Seasons.


I won't worry; your music is pretty good.


Silence would definitely be better.

The Issue at Hand

When nothing else pleases me, I turn to imaginative fiction to take me away from my troubles. Unfortunately, after having my expectations raised by last month's excellent offerings, the latest issue of Fantastic proves to be a disappointment.


Cover art and interior art by Emsh

When the Idols Walked (Part 1 of 2), by John Jakes

Brak the Barbarian, whom we've seen a few times before, returns in this new sword-and-sorcery adventure.

The mighty hero is captured when the Bad Guys invade a place he's just passing through and make him a galley slave. A raging storm threatens to sink the huge fleet of slave ships, until the traditional beautiful but evil sorceress calms the sea. Not all is well, however, because a sorcerer from the invaded land shows up in his own ship, and a fierce battle of magic results. After a lot of natural and supernatural violence, Brak falls into the ocean and is washed up on the shore of the next place the Bad Guys intend to conquer.

Things get a lot more complicated after Brak is nursed back to health by the beautiful (but not evil) daughter of a merchant. It seems that the merchant has an enemy with the power to control the spirits of two dead men. One was a strangler, and his ghost still possesses the ability to kill people with a spectral rope. The other was an informer and a libertine and, so we're told, even more wicked than the other. This one can inhabit statues, bringing them to life. (Yes, that's when the idols walk.) Besides all this, the Bad Guys are on the march, the brave ruler of the land is off defending the border, and an ineffective vizier is in charge during his absence. Let's not forget about the sorceress, who is out to destroy Brak.

As you can see, a heck of a lot goes on in this fast-moving adventure. The author writes vividly, particularly during the storm and the sea battle, and when a statue of a sinister, one-eyed god comes to life and attacks. It's too bad that the whole thing is so similar to Robert E. Howard's tales of Conan, and feels like it belongs in the yellowed, crumbling pages of a 1930's issue of Weird Tales.

Two stars.

The Scent of Love, by Larry Eisenberg

Human colonists on an alien world make use of the fruit of a local tree. Their problem is that a particularly large and nasty insect attacks the trees. A scientist obtains a substance from female insects that attracts male insects, so they can be trapped and killed. You won't be surprised to discover that this method has unintended consequences. What happens is predictable, and makes me wonder why the colonists didn't anticipate it.

Two stars.

The Failure, by David R. Bunch

Here's another strange and disturbing piece from a writer with a style like nobody else. It's very hard to follow, but as best as I can tell it has something to do with one character seeking ultimate knowledge, and the narrator reacting to the results of his quest. If it has a point, it may be the futility of all human effort. As usual for Bunch, the frenzied language of the story holds the reader's attention, but it's not a pleasant experience.

Two stars.

Family Portrait, by Morgan Kent

This brief tale from a new author starts off with a typical evening at home, as Mom and Dad try to get their young child to go to bed. Things get odd about halfway through the story, and the characters turn out to be something other than ordinary. That's about all there is to an inoffensive, if trivial, bit of whimsy.

Two stars.

Footnote to an Old Story, by Jack Sharkey

A meek little fellow goes on vacation on a Greek island, where he falls in unrequited love with a beautiful young woman.   After reading the Bible story about Samson, he grows his hair long. Apparently through sheer will power he changes himself into a muscular he-man and gains the attention of the woman. You'll predict what happens at the end, given the setting, the woman's name, and, unfortunately, the excellent illustration by Virgil Finlay, which gives away the whole thing. It's pretty well written, but way too long for a story with an obvious twist ending.


I warned you it gave away the plot.

Two stars.

Dangerous Flags: Another Adventure of the Green Magician, by Thomas M. Disch

This is a goofy fantasy, or maybe a mock fairy tale, set in an absurd version of the modern world. Coal gas emerges from underground mines in a Pennsylvania town, threatening the local population. The Green Magician (who, as far as I can tell, has never had any other adventures, at least in published fiction) fights the sinister English Teacher and her Rich Nephew. (The capitals are the author's.) A lot of random stuff happens. The English Teacher asks some inexplicable riddles. The Green Magician turns into powder. The English Teacher recites three poems. A Snow Fairy shows up. I guess it's supposed to be funny, but I didn't get much amusement out of it. I have the feeling that Disch is making fun, in a disdainful and superior way, of the kind of stories that appear in Fantastic.

Two stars.

Land of the Yahoos, by Adam Bradford, M.D.


Illustration by George Schelling.

If the Fates are kind, this will be the last rehashing of Gulliver's Travels from the pen of Doctor Joseph Wassersug, hiding under the name of his fictional narrator. As we saw three times before, he winds up in one of Swift's imaginary realms. This time it's the land of the Houyhnhnms, a race of intelligent horses, and the Yahoos, a clan of bestial human beings. He doesn't spend much time with the highly civilized Houyhnhnms, and most of the story is an obvious analogy between the Yahoos and modern society. The Yahoos are greedy for rocks, the way people are greedy for money; they waste time at social gatherings they don't really enjoy, the way people attend dull cocktail parties; and so on. As in previous entries in this series, the author wastes a lot of time getting the narrator to his destination. This story also drags on near the end, as the narrator completes a minor task mentioned in a previous tale. By making the Yahoos semi-civilized, with clothing and a language, Wassersug weakens the intent of Swift's misanthropic satire.

One star.

Look for the Silver Lining

After a particularly dismal bunch of stories, things can only go up from here. Maybe the next issue will be better. I can also look forward to a promising new film based on a classic tale by one of the pioneers of science fiction, as well as the latest novel from an author whose first book was nominated for a Hugo. Watch for my reports on these two exciting possibilities in the near future. Until then, remember to let a smile be your umbrella!


A scene from the new French film Les parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg), not yet seen in the USA, in which all the dialogue is sung. I guess that makes it a fantasy film.

[June 22, 1964] The Bridal Path (July 1964 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Here Come the Brides

June is the month for weddings, they say, and recent events seem to bear that out. 

Princess Désirée Elisabeth Sibylla, granddaughter of Gustav VI Adolf, King of Sweden, tied the knot with Baron Nils-August Otto Carl Niclas Silfverschiöld on June 4.  Those of you who aren't interested in royalty may wonder why I bother to mention this.  Frankly, I just love their names, although it gave my typewriter the fits to put in those diacritical marks.


The happy couple, during a serious moment of the ceremony.

Fittingly, a song about marriage is currently at the top of the American popular music charts.  The Dixie Cups hit Number One this month, with their very first single, The Chapel of Love.  No doubt many young women will be singing Goin' to the chapel and we're gonna get married to their boyfriends this summer.


The group is a trio; why are there four cups on the album cover?

From Miss Goldsmith to Mrs. Lalli

When I first opened up the pages of the latest issue of Fantastic, I thought there was a new editor.  I quickly realized that there are very few people named Cele, and it was too much of a coincidence to expect two editors to have that same first name.  Obviously, Cele G. Lalli is our old friend Cele Goldsmith, and she is now married to a Mister Lalli.  (I later found out that Michael Lalli also works for the Ziff-Davis Company, publishers of Amazing and Fantastic.  Sometimes, workplace romances work out for the best.) Will nuptial bliss have an effect on the contents of her magazines?  Let's find out.

The Issue at Hand


by Ed Emshwiller

The Kragen, by Jack Vance

Taking up half the issue is the cover story, a new novella from a writer known for colorful adventures set on exotic worlds.  His latest offering is no exception.

Centuries before the story begins, a starship full of criminals set out for a prison planet.  The inmates took control of the vessel and landed on a planet consisting of a single ocean, with no landmasses.  Their remote descendants have only vague memories of their origin, organizing themselves into clans based on the crimes of their ancestors.

(Vance indulges himself in a bit of humor here.  The clans have names like Procurers and Swindlers.  The Advertisermen have the lowest social status.)

The clans live on the gigantic floating pads of sea plants.  They survive on what the ocean provides, and are able to build houses and signal towers from plants, fish, and even human bones.  The people live a comfortable existence, for the most part, without glass or metal.

The only flies in the ointment are the kragens; large, squid-like sea creatures that prey upon the food supply of the clans.  The King Kragen, an enormous member of the species, chases the smaller ones away in exchange for offerings of food.

Our hero is a member of the Hoodwink clan, apparently descended from a con artist.  Now the name is literal; his job is to cover and uncover lights on a signal tower, in order to send messages to other floating pads.  One day a kragen attacks his home and food, and the King Kragen is not around to prevent the onslaught.  The protagonist takes matters into his own hands, defying tradition and killing the kragen after a long and bloody battle.  This leads to a crisis for the entire society, with the hero and his allies determined to continue their war on the kragens, and eventually to destroy the King Kragen itself, while the priests and rulers oppose them.


by Ed Emshwiller

The author creates a fascinating planet in vivid detail, while never letting the action stop for a moment.  In addition to violent battles with the kragens, the story contains courtroom drama, political debates, spying, kidnapping, plots, and counterplots.  The way in which the rebels obtain glass, metal, and electricity from their environment is interesting, even if it seems unlikely.  Vance adds a couple of footnotes to explain certain aspects of his setting, and this distracts from the story.  Overall, however, he does an excellent job of worldbuilding, while telling a compelling tale.

Four stars.

Descending, by Thomas M. Disch


by Robert Adragna

One of Goldsmith's – I mean, Lalli's – discoveries spins a haunting fable set in a department store.  A fellow down on his luck, without a job, without money, without anything to eat, buys food and books with his credit card, giving no thought to the inevitable consequences.  He purchases a meal at the rooftop restaurant the same way, then heads down the escalator, lost in the pages of a book.  (The volume he reads is Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray, which may be a clue to the story's symbolism.) I hesitate to say anything else about the plot, although the title provides a hint.  Suffice to say that exiting a building is not always as easy as entering it.

Disch develops a surreal concept with rigid logic, making the impossible seem real.  He keeps his tendency to be a smart aleck under control, perhaps because a young, struggling writer can identify with the desperate protagonist.  Whether or not I'm reading too much into the story, it's certain to remain in my memory for a long time.

Five stars.

The College of Acceptable Death, by David R. Bunch

Here is the most bizarre and gruesome tale yet from the mind of a highly controversial author of weird and disturbing imaginings.  The narrator instructs students by showing them the violent deaths of animals and people.  (If I'm reading the story correctly, these are only simulacra, which doesn't make them any less horrifying.) They also learn what it's like to be watched by an all-seeing God.  By the end of the lesson, the best thing they can expect is a peaceful death.

As you can tell, this is a grisly and depressing meditation on the meaninglessness of life.  I believe that many readers, maybe most, will hate its eccentric style, its violent images, and its nihilistic theme.  I can't deny that it has a certain compulsive power, but it's not a pleasant one.

Two stars.

The Boundary Beyond, by Florence Engel Randall


by Blair

As far as I can tell, only one other story by this author has appeared in the pages of a genre magazine.  That was One Long Ribbon, in the July 1962 issue of Fantastic.  I liked that one quite a bit, and I hope she continues to come up with equally enjoyable works of fiction in the future.  To my delight, her latest story is just as good.

The narrator looks back on the extraordinary event that occurred when she was a teenager.  Her older sister is engaged to a teacher.  (The theme of marriage appears again, this time in a sad way.) It's obvious that the narrator is in love with him as well, and that she is a better match for the dreamy, poetic young man than her superficial sister.  The fellow discovers a small, naked, delicately lovely woman near an ancient oak tree.  (We know from the beginning that she's a dryad, so the story depends more on mood than suspense for its effect.) The older sister met the same being when she was a very young child.  She hates and fears the dryad, leading to a tragic ending.

Beautifully written, this gentle and melancholy fantasy touches the reader's emotions with its insight into the human heart.  The author also displays a strong appreciation for nature, so that the fate of an oak tree is just as moving as that of a human being.

Five stars.

The Venus Charm, by Jack Sharkey


by Robert Adragna

I never know what to expect from Sharkey, even if it's rarely something outstanding, and I have to admit he took me by surprise again.  This oddball combination of space fiction and fantasy starts with a guy winning a seemingly useless object from a Venusian in a card game.  Later, he crashes his starship on a bizarre world and fights to survive.  The object turns out to bring both good and bad luck, depending on how it's used.  After reading about multiple misadventures, I suddenly found myself with a climax that amazed me with its audacity.

The planet the author describes is truly weird, and shows a great deal of imagination.  The wild twists and turns in the plot, as well as an extended discussion on the ambiguity of good and bad luck, left me dizzy.  I didn't suspend my disbelief for a single second, but the story held my attention.  Logic isn't Sharkey's strong point, so forget about plausibility and try to enjoy the ride.

Three stars.

The Thousand Injuries of Mr. Courtney, by Robert F. Young


by George Schelling

Full appreciation of this story depends upon familiarity with The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe and La Grande Bretèche by Honoré de Balzac.  I'll wait here while you read both stories.  (For those who don't want to bother tracking down those two Nineteenth Century tales of the macabre, let's just say that they deal with people getting bricked up.)

Mister Courtney goes home to discover his wife hiding someone in the closet.  True to his literary forebears, he bricks up the closet.  Because Mister Courtney is also working on a scientific project, the nature of which you'll see coming a mile away, this leads to an obvious twist ending.

Young is much better when he's coming up with original material, rather than retelling myths and legends, or writing pastiches of classic literature.  I like his science fiction love stories, and I wish he would go back to them.

One star.

For Better or For Worse

Despite a few low points, this was a fine issue, with some outstanding fiction.  Like a marriage, the relationship between a reader and a writer has its ups and downs.  If a particular magazine is disappointing, there's always something else to read.


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