Tag Archives: William M. Lee

[March 20, 1969] Going through the motions… (April 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

What's the news across the nation?

And now for the man to whom the news wouldn't be the news without the news… here's Gidi!

Dateline: 1969

Apparently, President Nixon and Soviet head of government Kosygin have agreed not to blow up nuclear bombs on the ocean floor, of which there have been somewhere between zero and not many. This is being hailed as a tremendous accomplishment in the field of disarmament. The next great achievement will be banning test explosions on the 32nd day of every month.

I think the two deserve a Flying Fickle Finger of Fate, or the "Penetrating Pinky" as the producer calls it.

photo of a two men in suits (Dan Rowan and Dick Martin), the one on the right holding up a golden statuette of a hand with its index finger pointing and crowned by wings

Dateline: 1969

Britain is building a giant radio telescope to hear the beginning of the universe. Astronomers believe the cosmos apparently was once compressed into a tiny point, even smaller than Governor Reagan's brain, and when it expanded, the temperature of the stuff dropped, as it always does when you maintain the amount of matter but increase the volume of its container.

A temperature that was once immeasurably high has now gotten so low that it radiates at very low energy levels—detectable by super-sensitive antennas! I imagine the observatory will determine if this radio hiss is uniformly distributed or not. They're also looking for quasars, those objects that are super bright in the radio spectrum, but invisible to the naked eye, and which may be the most distant (and thus, the oldest) objects in the universe.

Of course, we all know the oldest thing you can get on the radio is Jack Benny…

Dateline: 1969

Two airliners were hijacked to Havana yesterday. That's the sixth time this year that there has been a "double-header" seizing. We must be running out of rebels and Communists by now—I would not be surprised to hear that the hijackers are just retirees looking for someplace cheaper than Miami.

Dateline: 1969

President Nixon is coming to San Diego tomorrow.  This will lay to rest any dispute, at least while he's here, as to the biggest Dick in town.

What's the news inside this issue?

I've just come back from a little bubble of time inside the roiling chaos that is the real world.  It was a little Los Angeles SF conclave called Escapade, filled with fans of all things fannish.  Keeping me company on this trip was the lastest issue of F&SF.  Although not quite such a rousing success as the con, the issue did have a couple of things to strongly recommend it.  Read on, and you'll see what they were:

illustrated
by Bert Tanner

Deeper Than the Darkness, by Gregory Benford

Greg Benford is a young man, part of an identical twin fannish duo, who I'm pretty sure lives right here in San Diego.  He was catapulted into the ranks of the professionals when he won an F&SF writing contest a few years back, and he's written a couple of pieces since then.

His latest is a space adventure involving Captain Clark, a tramp ship skipper impressed into navy service when the mysterious Quarm begin impinging on Terran star colonies.  Clark is one of the few men of caucasian ancestry left after the hot wars of the fraught centuries, and human civilization is now dominated by Asians and Polynesians.  Society is changed, too, more of a communal affair knitted together by cooperative social activies.  Prime among them is Sabal, also referred to as The Game, which is a sort of roleplaying exercise in which each participant offers up vignettes, epigrams, and other creative orations designed to complement rather than dispute the last speaker.  When fully harmony is reached, the Game is over.

It is frequent usage of Sabal that keeps the novice crew together as it reaches Regeln, a colony recently ravaged by the Quarm.  But Sabal is no defense against, and indeed, a exacerbator for, the particular malady spread by the aliens—a kind of extreme agrophobia that drives humans to literally burrow away from the light, from each other, from the universe.

This downbeat tale is readable, but its psychological and racial underpinnings are a little implausible and more than a little unsettling.

Three stars.

Some Very Odd Happenings at Kibblesham Manor House, by Michael Harrison

A WW2 veteran runs across a much aged and enervated war buddy.  Over beers, it turns out that the afflicted soldier has had an unfortunate run-in with the Celtic cult of Cybele, the Earth Mother.  Said sect, prominent two thousand years ago, demands great sacrifices of its adherents.  The male priests must scourge themselves, ultimately sacrificing that which most distinguishes them as men.

And Kibblesham, built on an ancient temple, infects all who inhabit it with Cybele's compulsion…

This is one of many old-fashioned pieces in the book, almost Lovecraftian in tone.  Not really to my taste.

Two stars.

line drawing of a man and woman picnicking, the trees around them false front props, and the man is saying,
by Gahan Wilson

Not Long Before the End, by Larry Niven

Some 12,000 years ago, before the final Ice Age, great magical societies were the rule.  One of the age's great sorcerers is a man simply known as Warlock.  In his 200 years of life, he has seen his powers wane several times, each instance compelling him to move on to a new locale, where his mana has been restored.  Upon investigation, Warlock determines a terrible truth, one which spells doom for his spell-based civilization.

In the meantime, a stupid swordsman named Hap, wielding the eldritch blade Glilendree (or is it the other way around?), shows up to challenge the wizard.  The ensuing battle is noteworthy, indeed.

This is one of Niven's only fantasies, and it's superb.  While "magic was common before the modern age" is a frequently mined lode, from Lord of the Rings to Conan to Norton's recent Operation: Time Search, Niven is the first, perhaps, to explain why the magic goes away.

Five stars.

Trouble on Kort, by William M. Lee

This is a police mystery set on the planet of Kort, on which a dozen outworlders have disappeared (kidnapped?) and a dozen natives have taken their own lives—all in the space of just a matter of weeks.  Peace Corps officer Jan Pierson is sent in to investigate.

It's a rather unremarkable tale, oddly juvenile in tone and occasionally tedious, but it's not unenjoyable.  I appreciated the love interest, the Kortian named "Marty", who did not get enough page time.

A low three.

The House, by P. M. Hubbard

A married couple, awarded a homestead plot in the bombed out fringes of London, tries to build a house amidst the rubble.  But the tumulus they choose as a foundation may already be occupied…

This tale is atmospheric but rather trivial, another of the throwbacks.  Two stars.

The Incredible Shrinking People, by Isaac Asimov

Last issue, the Good Doctor explained the pitfalls of neglecting physics when dealing with miniaturized or enlarged people.  This time, Isaac explains how he accounted for same while writing the novelization of Fantastic Voyage.

Neat stuff.  Four stars.

The Freak, by Pg Wyal

There are beggars and there are beggars.  The most deformed, crippled, and otherwise unordinary ones band together to form a union of sorts.  Tired of their low income, they go on strike, ensuring that the beautiful citizens of Gothopolis have no one to compare themselves to.

Soon, the "normal" Gothopolians go crazy, and their John Lindsay analog must come up with a drastic solution.

The build-up wasn't bad, but the message isn't as profound as Wyal (or editor Ferman) thought it was.

Two stars.

Say goodnight, Dick!

Just as the week's news was much of a muchness, so was this issue of F&SF more a marking of time than the making of a landmark.  Still, I am grateful for the Asimov and particularly the Niven, and the rest was not so much unpleasant as forgettable.

Good enough for now.  I look forward, as always, to next month's issue—and I hope you do, too!




[March 2, 1969] Dreams and reality (April 1969 IF)


by David Levinson

A different kind of colonialism

When the Indian subcontinent gained independence, the Muslim and Hindu regions went their separate ways, contrary to the hopes of Gandhi. Hundreds of thousands of people were displaced, and there have been several conflicts between India and Pakistan over the border. But there is another problem which is beginning to make itself felt.

There are two Muslim regions of the subcontinent separated by India, and so Pakistan is split into East and West Pakistan—but unlike East and West Germany, they are a united country. The west comprises the Punjab and points west to Afghanistan, while the east is made up of eastern Bengal and the Ganges delta. West Pakistan holds a majority of the population and almost all of the political power.

East Pakistanis have felt increasingly marginalized in the twenty-two years since independence. As an example, the only official language is the western Urdu, which uses the Arabic script, while Bengali, with its own script and long literary history, is ignored. Civil unrest in the east has grown, led by the Awami League under the leadership of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. They aren’t asking for full independence, merely autonomy with Pakistan becoming a federation of two nations with joint defense and foreign policy.

President Ayub Khan’s rule is becoming increasingly shaky. It is widely believed that the 1965 election was fraudulent and he actually lost. The military now supports Zulifikar Ali Bhutto, and there have been massive student protests in the last couple of years. Ayub Khan thought he had a way to regain support, but it seems to have blown up in his face.

Ayub Khan greets LBJ in Karachi in 1967.

In January of last year, the government announced they had uncovered a plot for the secession of East Pakistan with the help of India. Over a thousand people were arrested, among them Sheikh Mujib. Originally, the plan was for a court-martial, but President Khan later opted for an open trial, perhaps thinking he could move public opinion his way before next year’s elections. As a result, the number of accused was reduced to 36.

The trial was set to begin in Dacca on February 6th, but public unrest resulted in a delay. Then on the 15th, Sergeant Zahurul Haq was shot and killed in his prison cell. When word got out, East Pakistan exploded. The rioters tried to set fire to the State Guest House where the judges and chief prosecutor were staying. The officials escaped, but some of the evidence was destroyed. A week later, the government dropped all charges, and the prisoners were released.

It’s a huge embarrassment for Ayub Khan, and it’s hard to see how he survives this politically. Meanwhile, Sheikh Mujib and the Awami League are riding high. Let’s hope that a peaceful resolution can be found.

Sheikh Mujib (center) emerges from prison.

Science fantasy

And now, this month's first magazine, featuring (like the Pakistans) a single entity with two names—Worlds of IF and Worlds of Tomorrow.

Once upon a time, the term science fantasy was another name for science fiction. These days, it usually refers to work that combines elements of both science fiction and fantasy. Spaceships and magic, that sort of thing. This month’s IF runs strongly in that direction, starting with a new serial from one of that movement’s most prominent authors.

Like I said, swords and spaceships. Art by Adkins

Toys of Tamisan (Part 1 of 2), by Andre Norton

At the urging of his cousin Kas, Lord Starrex buys Tamisan, a powerful action dreamer. Seeking to craft a dream that will impress a former adventurer, she hits on the idea of setting her creation in a place where the history of their city and world turned out differently. Before she can finalize her plans, Starrex demands her services, and Tamisan learns that both he and Kas will be sharing this dream, which has never been done before. The dream appears to be all too real, and Tamisan discovers that she can’t break out of it unless both of the other dreamers are with her. She finds Starrex, but Kas seems to be aboard the approaching spaceship. To be continued.

A spaceship approaches to meet a different welcome than it actually did. Art by Adkins

As you might expect from Norton, this is a well-written adventure, but it’s just not my cup of tea. The mix of science fiction and fantasy is similar to her Witch World books, and I haven’t really enjoyed those. The casual acceptance of Tamisan’s slavery—even if it’s not called that—is also very off-putting.

Three stars for now, but those who like this kind of thing might rate it higher.

Starbright, by E.G. Von Wald

Starbrights are gemstones that take ambient light and emit a color characteristic to the individual stone as long as the wavelength of the stone’s light is longer than that it takes in. Gem collector Sean Macnessa has come to the Aldebaran system, following a rumor of seven rare red starbrights. His search will involve him with local politics, a missing princess, and a Golden Ruberg.

The story is a trifling adventure tale, but it’s fun. It’s not overly long, the humor works, and the reader is given just enough information to work out the solution.

A solid three stars.

A Report on the Sixth International SF Film Festival, by Luigi Cozzi

What it says on the tin: a quick rundown of the festival held in Trieste, Italy. 2001 was naturally a big hit and the only film we covered here at the Journey. The big winner, though, was the British film The Sorcerers, which took awards for the film and its stars, Catherine Lacey and Boris Karloff (who died at the beginning of February).

Three stars.

That Season, by Lawrence Mayer

Humans are rare, maybe unique, among mammals in that they don’t have mating seasons in which females go into heat and males compete violently for access. But what if that changed? That’s the question new author Mayer asks, looking at the events right before, during, and immediately after one season a few generations after such a change. I’m not sure I agree with his conclusions—once could even argue he presents a best-case scenario—but he tells it well, particularly in exposition provided by showing us things rather than “As you know, Bob” conversations.

Three stars.

Spork of the Ayor, by Perry Chapdelaine

Expectations can have a large effect on how you feel about what you read. Where I grew up, “spork” was a humorous name for a spoon with tines on the end (spoon+fork=spork), so I was expecting a farce. Instead, Chapdelaine gives us a straightforward tale of a human raised among intelligent beings not of his kind, who must use his innate human skills to save his adoptive people.

Spork learns to use direct action against the Tepen. Art by Reese

From that picture and the title, you can probably tell that this is basically Tarzan, just with aliens and mental powers. It’s fairly typical of other Chapdelaine stories I’ve read: decently written, but much too long. From the loose threads at the end, it looks like we’ll be getting more. Unfortunately, I’ve never been a fan of Tarzan.

A low three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

This month, del Rey looks at the brain and sleep. He starts with electronarcosis, which may be able to cure insomnia and treat schizophrenia. He then discusses the idea of recording dreams and playing them back for others. Lester is making good use of his time in the Galaxy Publishing office. This is the third month in a row in which his article has directly referenced a story in the current issue of either IF or Galaxy. I like it; it gives the article a bit of extra relevance to the reader.

Three stars.

The Light Bearer, by William M. Lee

Pete Coghill is a biochemist with a knack for finding flaws in other people’s research. It hasn’t made him many friends, but management loves him. After accidentally dosing himself an LSD derivative, he has a strange encounter with a prominent scientist. It changes his life for the better, but he will have to pay for it one day.

This story isn’t what it looks like, or what Pete thinks it is. It’s actually quite fun and turns the whole concept on its head.

A high three stars.

Authorgraphs: An Interview with Jack Williamson

An interesting interview with an interesting man. Some of that’s down to the life he’s led so far, but some of it probably due to his being a university lecturer who knows how to engage his audience. This is the first time the interview has been with someone who isn’t in the issue, which contrasts with what I said about the del Rey article.

Jack Williamson. Art by Gaughan

Four stars.

Tourists Welcome, by Roger Deeley

The sleepy British town of Maxcombe Parva has been hit with a spate of car thefts in one night. Police sergeant Slocombe wonders if local poacher and con man Geoff Rye might know something. It’s not his style, but he has been known to sell tourists something he doesn’t actually own.

An amusing little tale, though it takes a dark turn right at the end.

Three stars.

Retief, the Long-Awaited Master, by Keith Laumer

The diplomatic mission Retief is on runs afoul of the Groaci, and it’s up to him to save everybody’s career and reputation. I’m going to keep a copy of that sentence on file; it will save time when reviewing the next Retief story.

Retief and Magnan meet the locals. Art by Gaughan

When this story was teased last month, I wondered if enough time had passed for it to feel fresh. The answer is no. Laumer isn’t just going through the motions, the way he was a few years ago, but these are all stamped out by the same cookie cutter. Only the frosting is different.

Three stars, but only recommended if you’re new to the series or are a really big fan.

Summing up

This is a typical middle-of-the-road issue. Rather than rehashing what I usually say at the end of theses articles, let’s talk about art. There’s not much of it, with only three stories being illustrated. No one seems to have paid much attention to it during layout either. The piece reproduced here for “Toys of Tamisan” ran on page 93 for “Spork,” and the piece reproduced here for that story ran on page 27 for “Tamisan.” You’d think somebody would have noticed that even the robots are posed much too naturally and dynamically to have been drawn by Adkins. The magazine really needs to do better with its art.

Bloch could be good or bad. His humor is hit or miss.






[May 20, 1968] Dying, deflating, and deorbiting (June 1968 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Fading Echoes

It sometimes astounds me how long Galactic Journey has been around.  Eight years ago, we covered the launch of Echo 1, a big balloon shot into orbit so that NASA eggheads could use it as a cosmic message relay.  More importantly, it was an artificial beacon, proof at a time when the Americans were losing the Space Race, that we had established a visible presence in outer space.

In just a few days, Echo 1 will be no more.  Though the air at Echo's altitude is, to terrestrial standards, a fine vacuum, there is enough there to pull at the satellite.  For the past eight years, the tug has slowed down Echo, and this month, it will fall out of orbit, plunging into the atmosphere, where it will burn up.

All things must pass, and Echo had a good run, but still, it's a little sad.

Which brings us to this month's issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction

Last month, we lost Anthony Boucher, who helmed F&SF for much of the '50s.  His term was excellent, and he also wrote some great stories, too, my favorite being The Quest for St. Aquin He was only 56.

Since Boucher's tenure, F&SF has been an inconsistent magazine.  There have been good issues of F&SF, and there have been less than good ones.  The latest is one of the latter kind, and its underwhelming quality serves only to make us pine all the more for what we've lost.


by Ronald Walotsky

The Consciousness Machine, by Josephine Saxton

Zona Gambier is a mental technician, proficient in the usage of WAWWAR, a device that has revolutionized psychotherapy.  It dredges the animus of one's mental dysfunction, bares it to the possessor, and in doing so, cures the ailing person of any psychological malady.  It is thus a matter of great consternation when she finds that her patient, Thurston Maxwell's, animus does not seem to correspond to his condition–namely a predilection for sexual assault.

The imagery WAWWAR produces is the story of a teenage boy living ferally, hiding from all of humanity, until he comes across a newborn, still attached to her just-dead mother.  He raises the child, somehow providing for it, until she is old enough to be an adoptive sister.  Later, as an adult, they become lovers.  Finally, they have a child together, completing a kind of circle.

Ultimately, we find out what this story means, and whose animus it actually is.  The writing is rather nice, but the explanation at the end is ad hoc, and I certainly wouldn't call the piece science fiction.  Science-esque, perhaps.

Three stars.

Of Time and Us, by David R. Bunch

Better poetry than some, worse than others.  I'm not sure I care for the sentiment, espousing the futility of humanity against the infinity of chronology.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The People Trap, by Robert Sheckley

Overpopulation stories have been de rigeur for more than a decade now, to the point where the genre is a bit overripe.  Especially given that, according to articles I've been reading lately, the population growth rate has been steadily declining in the First World for most of the '60s.  Now, will that continue?  There are an awful lot of Baby Boomers coming of age, and perhaps the trend will reverse itself.  But it does seem that large families, at least in the West and other developed areas, are falling out of fashion.

Which is why Sheckley's satire of overpopulation stories, in which a mild-mannered father, tired of sharing his one-room flat with five others (with five more on the way), enters a deadly competition, is a breath of fresh air.  Along with 60 other participants, he must complete a foot-race through the wilds of New York City, populated by the lowest forms of humanity.  His prize: one of the last free-standing acres of land on the continent.

Very quickly, you see that the thing is a lampoon, and as such, it's quite tolerable.  Indeed, it's the closest thing to an old-style Sheckley story I've read in a long time, and old-style Sheckley is one of my favorites.

Four stars.

Settle, by Ann MacLeod

A couple buys a fixer-upper.  Soon, the man of the house starts losing pieces of himself.  First a toe, then a foot, onto his leg and torso, until he is just a head.  Still, he goes on repairing elements of the home, determined to make it livable.  Eventually, he is just a set of teeth and a bit of brain, mowing the lawn by mouth, until he is crushed under the knee of his toddler son.  The end.

Per the editor's preface, this story is about how a money pit takes its toll in flesh from its owners.  I'm glad that was explained to me, because otherwise, I'd have no idea.

One star.

Backtracked, by Burt Filer

Author Burt Filer is apparently married to Settle's author, Ann MacLeod.  His tale is the superior of the two.

A man in his mid-30s wakes up to find his body ten years older.  Apparently, he has "backtracked"–a decade from then, he swapped physical forms with his younger self (which apparently destroys the future incarnation so as to prevent paradoxes).  He has no memory of the next ten years, nor why he chose this particular date to come back to.

All he knows is that his polio-crippled leg is now reasonably robust, and that his wife is not altogether happy with his new, somewhat weathered, appearance.

Eventually we do find out what would motivate a man to give up a decade of life, and it's a reasonable justification.

Three stars.

At the Heart of It, by Michael Harrison

This is both an old tale and an old-fashioned tale.  It details the tragic story of a bookseller who discovers a profane book, one that teaches the reader the art of transferring one's soul into an inanimate object.

There are no surprises, and the kicker comes at the end, like all its Weird Tales brethren.  I imagine this would have been humdrum in the 30s and it certainly doesn't cut the mustard now.

Two stars.

Counting Chromosomes, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor explains the relatively new science of genetics and the role chromosomes, which are essentially punch cards that govern cell reproduction, have in them.  He spends a good deal of time on sex chromosomes, and the effects that mutated sex chromosomes have on human beings.

Fascinating stuff, but there is an air of eugenics about his discussion, particularly in calling chromosomally abnormal human beings "defectives" and describing the recent exclusion of Ewa Klobukowska from women's sports on the basis of an extra Y chromosome as a positive development, ensuring competitions remain "sportsmanlike", rubbed me the wrong way.

Three stars.

The Secret of Stonehenge, by Harry Harrison

In this vignette, archaeologists armed with a time-traveling camera send it back to find out why and when Stonehenge was created.  Turns out that the camera leaves chronological echoes, afterimages that last long after the camera has departed.  Of course, it is these images, that, to primitive Britons, could only have been a sign of the gods, that spurred the creation of Stonehenge.

Harry should know better.  We've known since 1963 that Stonehenge was an astronomical calculator, able to predict eclipses and solstices.  It was built where it was because it needed to be to function properly.

In any event, the far more exciting (and dangerous) discovery is that long-range time travel can be used to communicate with the past, but this was not touched upon.

Two stars.

Sea Home, by William M. Lee

The first long-term permanent underwater residence has been completed.  However, it quickly becomes apparent that Sea Home has a problem: its five long-term crew, already at depth, are undergoing physiological changes.  It appears to be linked to the special air mixture they're breathing to alleviate pressure issues; their blend includes oxygen, helium, and sodium hexaflouride–the latter two ingredients serving as a kind of buffer, one very light, and one very heavy.

There's a lot wrong with this story.  For one, it's a novelette for a one-gimmick story.  Lee tries to add color and reasonably competent writing to hide the fact, but there are simply no mysteries to keep you intrigued beyond the central one.

And the central one is stupid.  The premise is that the absence of nitrogen triggers all sorts of biological miracles.  Free from the shackles of nitrogen, our bodies become more efficient, our brains get smarter, our skin sprouts tiny fields of gills fer Chrissakes.  It reminds me of the early stories about long-term weightlessness, when, because we had no data, sf writers filled in the blanks any way they wanted.

Except we do have data.  Gemini 7 was in space for 14 days, its crew breathing a pure, 5psi oxygen atmosphere.  None of them got any smarter or developed vacuum-breathing gills or what-have-you.

Dumb.  Two stars.

Cithaeronion farewell

As you can see, this issue is sort of like the work of a taxidermist.  It looks like F&SF, many of its contents are familiar, but the breath of life is missing.  Would that someone new could come along and instill the esteemed publication with the vigor it enjoyed under its past master.

Lest all we have left is fading echoes…






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[October 22, 1967] Equal Opportunity Employer (November 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

It is the Policy of the United States Government

Say what you will about LBJ's unfortunate Vietnam policy, there's no question but that his last four years in office have seen more progress on the Civil Rights front than any four decades since the 15th Amendment.

Case in point: just over a week ago, on October 13, 1967, the President signed Executive Order 11375. 

It is desirable that the equal employment opportunity programs provided for in Executive Order No. 11246 expressly embrace discrimination on account of sex.

Hencefoth, in the federal government, and in any federally contracted organization, there must be no discrimination on the basis of sex.


Dorothy Hudson Jacobson, USDA Assistant Secretary for International Affairs


Evelyn Brown; starting in 1963, she was the first woman since WW2 to deliver mail in the nation's capital

It does not immediately solve the rampant inequality and sexist structure in our society, but it is the first step.  An important one.  Not just for justice and quality of life, but for the prosperity of our nation.  For when half the population is allowed to participate without fetter, the fruits in terms of production and innovation, must necessarily more than double, but perhaps even quadruple.

It is the Policy of F&SF

This is something the editorial staff at The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has always known.  While women have only produced 10% of all published science fiction stories, F&SF has always printed a disproportionate number of them.  When there were thirty monthly magazines, F&SF alone published half of the stories by women.  I daresay its a big reason why F&SF has both managed to remain in the top tiers of the SF digests, and also why F&SF seems to have the highest readership of women.

Nearly half the text in this month's issue (including the only book column penned by a woman) is female-made.  It is perhaps not a surprise that this is one of the better issues of the magazine this year.  After all, when one opens up the lists to all comers rather than just half of them, there's more quality to choose from.


by Gray Morrow

The Sword Swallower, Ron Goulart

But first, a slight misstep.  Ron Goulart is pretty good at witty stories with an element of earthiness.  In particular, his stories about his occult detective, Max Kearney, and the tales of the shapechanging agent, Ben Jolson, are generally something to look forward to.


Ron Goulart

Swallower is a story of the latter, but sadly, it is not up to Goulart's usual standard.  In this piece, Ben is sent to a planet that specializes in sanatoria and funerals–life and death in one package–to investigate the disappearances (and presumed kidnappings) of several government officials.  It reads like someone ghost wrote a Goulart story, containing all the requisite elements, but failing to deliver on humor or interest.

Two stars.

Ballet Nègre, Charles Birkin

The next story is something of a failure, too, about an investigative reporter who must interview the star duo of dancers in a Haitian troupe.  Their ability to walk in flames, their complete silence, and their ghostly pallor intrigue him.

Well, of course they're zombies, and bog standard zombies of the type we've seen in fiction and on teevee for decades.  It's all sort of breathless and lurid, and entirely unsurprising.

Two stars.



Gahan Wilson

Ah, but beginning with the book column (in which Judy Merril promises she will soon have another volume of her controversial but always genre-broadening "Year's Best" anthologies soon), the magazine takes a decided turn for the better.

The Vine, Kit Reed

In a rustic somewhere and somewhen, the vine grows.  It produces the most sumptuous grapes, the most viridian foliage.  But the vine is not for use by humans.  Quite the opposite.  For generations, the Baskin family has cared for the vine, maintaining its elaborate greenhouse, keeping the pests off, ensuring its propagation, in a way becoming intertwined with it.  The other town-dwellers at first resented this unnaturally demanding growth, but in time, it became a tourist attraction.  Soon, the entire economy was based around the now-sprawling vegetable.

However, the vine hungers, and one family can no longer sate it…

Kit Reed has always delivered a large dose of atmosphere with her writing.  This one stays with you.

Four stars.

Nothing Much to Relate, Josephine Saxton

I think this is Saxton's second story; she first appeared in Science Fantasy, so I assume she is from Britain.  It's a cute tale involving a new mother with a talent for automatic writing, and a would-be-yogi who bites off more than he can chew.

It's a rather frivolous piece, but fun all the same.  Three stars.

When the Birds Die, Eduardo Goligorsky (translated by Vernor Vinge)

Here's a rather straightforward and simple after-the-bomb piece about a hobo who, for a little while, lives like a king thanks to his stockpile of vital supplies.  This one's all in the telling, which is particularly remarkable given that it's a story in translation (so, good job Vernor).

Three stars.

The Little Victims, Hilary Bailey

Bailey is another import from the UK, known for her many appearances in New Worlds.  This novella is easily the highlight of the issue.  Rose Dalby is a pregnant young woman who flees a drug den only to be swept into and confined in some sort of weird maternity hospital.  Each of the many mothers gives birth to some kind of monster, either idiotic or preternaturally advanced.  Something sinister is afoot, and Rose is determined to be no part of it.  Fortunately, the world is not entirely composed of evil men.

Not only is the story quite excellent, but the format is rather novel, told as multiple transcripts in an official inquiry document.  The only failing is the rather talky ending.  Still, good stuff, and more please.

Four stars.

Knock Plastic!, Isaac Asimov

Doc A seemed to have fallen into a rut recently.  His articles were either about the most inconsequential and trivial of things ("What latitude can the cities of St. John and Paris be found at?") or, worse, long lists that one could find in the back of any good atlas.

This month, he breaks the mold, detailing the six primary superstitious fallacies.  I enjoyed this piece enough to read it aloud to the Young Traveler.

Five stars.

A Message from Charity, William M. Lee

Finally, the story of a long communication across the centuries.  The telepathic penpals: young Charity Paynes of 18th Century Annes Town, and slightly less young Peter Wood of a 20th Century suburb occupying the same space.  Brought upon by a bout of summer typhoid (in both eras), the two slowly form a bond that goes beyond the sending of messages, including even the exchange of sensations.

Of course, a girl who speaks to unseen things in 1700 New England tends to arouse suspicion.

I first expected this story to be routine (even cliché); then I feared it might become unpleasantly dark.  Lee adroitly manages both outcomes.  I'm not sure if I would give it a fourth star, but it certainly lands in the high threes.

By Virtue of the Authority

Excluding the first two stories, one has a cracking good read for four bits.  Even including them, the November 1967 issue of F&SF clocks in at 3.25 stars.  Given that even Analog is getting into the equal opportunity act, I think we may be headed for a new golden era of science fiction.

Or should that be "Rose Golden"?



Speaking of which, I think you'll very much enjoy Journey Press' newest release:

You've probably heard of Marie Vibbert, one of the biggest names in SFF magazines in the far off 21st Century.  Her book, The Gods Awoke, is what I've been calling "a new New Wave masterpiece".

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




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[July 2, 1962] Getting to the Point (July 1962 Analog Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

There are many ways to measure the strength of a story.  Is the plot innovative?  Does it resonate emotionally?  Are the featured characters unusual?  Does it employ clever literary devices?

As a writer, I am always particularly impressed by efficiency: the ability of an author to develop his tale with a minimum of exposition, unfolding a plot teasingly so as to keep the reader turning those pages with increased anticipation, and then delivering a solid conclusion at the end – where it belongs.

The July 1962 Analog Science Fiction delivers a series of object lessons in how (and how not) to write efficiently.  In some cases, the execution can be admired even if the story isn't great shakes.  And vice versa.  Read on!:

Listen! The Stars!, by John Brunner

Brunner is a new British author whose prolific writings have already enchanted one of the Journey's writers.  Now it's my turn.

Listen! takes place a few decades from now, just after the discovery of an esoteric electronic principle that allows one to literally eavesdrop on the stars.  Using a sort of acoustic telescope, the "stardropper," one can tune in to the mental vibrations of extraterrestrials.  This isn't telepathy, and even if it were, who could understand the minds of total aliens? 

Yet, listening to these emanations is compelling in the extreme.  There is the feeling that, if you could just wrap your head around them, the secrets of the universe might be yours.  Stardropper addiction runs rampant…and then the disappearances begin.  Users simply vanish, though very few cases are actually witnessed.  Concerned at the ramifications, the American government dispatches a special agent to investigate the vanishings. 

Listen! is perfectly constructed, fitting its novella length just right.  The plot is also novel, though there are shades of Clarke's Childhood's End.  The characterizations serve the tale rather than being tacked on.  A five star story.

Junior Achievement, by William M. Lee

This tale of a gaggle of precocious kids and their science project is neither engaging nor novel.  I think the idea is that fall-out from an atomic exchange has caused the kids to surpass the adults by leaps and bounds, but otherwise, I couldn't see the point.  Two stars.

The Other Likeness, by James H. Schmitz

Alien agents in human form are inserted into a Terran Federation with the goal to destroy it from within.  A textbook example of how not to write: three quarters of this story is action without explanation, followed by the most expository of endings.  The result is that one wonders why one is reading until the finale and then feels let down for the effort expended.  Two stars.

Brain Waves and Thought Patterns, by John Eric Holmes, M.D.

I normally cringe at the prospect of reading non-fiction in Analog given Editor Campbell's preference for crackpots pushing psychic malarkey, but July's piece genuinely intrigues.  We are finally learning a bit about the black box of the mind that lies between stimulus and response.  The key has been to implant electrodes into the brain and measure the electrical output.  Cats are the subject of choice being the perfect combination of ubiquitous and medium-sized.

The result?  We now know a lot about the brainwaves of cats.  What this means for the future of humanity, brain research, Dr. Rhine, etc. remains to be seen.  Three stars.

Border, Breed Nor Birth (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

El Hassan, the mythical would-be uniter of North Africa is back in Reynolds' second tale set in the Mahgreb of the 1980s.  As in the first, it follows Homer Crawford and his band of Westernized Negroes as they promulgate the virtues of democracy and technology under a collective assumed identity. 

I'm a little warmer to the idea that Africa can use the help of its displaced children across the sea, and I do appreciate the attention to detail in the setting and the politics (no surprise – Reynolds spent a good deal of time in Morocco and Algeria).  However, the presentation is still too flip, and I suspect the endeavor is going to prove all too easy.  But perhaps the naive ambitions of Crawford et. al. will be thwarted in Part II.  Three stars so far, but I'm waiting for the thump of shoe #2.

The Rescuer, by Arthur Porges

Last up is the chronicle of the destruction of a machine, perhaps the most powerful and important machine in human history.  The pay-off is as hoary as your grandmother, but the unveiling is rather masterful.  Three stars.

Summed up, this month's Analog is the least good of the Big Five magazines, scoring a still respectable 3.1 stars – and it has the month's best story, in my opinion.  Given that no digest scored under the three stars this month, it has been an unusually fruitful July for science fiction lovers.

***

(P.S. Don't miss the second Galactic Journey Tele-Conference, July 29th at 11 a.m.!  If you can't make it to Worldcon/Chicon III, this is YOUR chance to Vote for the 1962 Hugos!)