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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 31, 1967] The Law of Averages (February 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Bump in road

Here, just a few days after human spaceflight's greatest catastophe, it's easy to begin to doubt.  Is this madcap race to the Moon, hanging on a construction leased out to the lowest bidders, all worth it?  The cost in money and lives?  We've lost six astronauts thus far; Elliot, Bassett and See were all killed in training accidents, but their souls are no less valuable than those of Grissom, White, and Chaffee.

Indeed, the Russians have already announced that they've given up.  With the war heating up in Vietnam, with society on Earth not yet Great, should we continue to bother?

The answer, of course, is yes.  Any man's death diminisheth me, as John Donne said, but as large as this tragedy looms in our vision now, it will be the smallest of footnotes compared to humanity's epic trek to the stars, which surely must come.  It is our species' saving grace that we recover from missteps and proceed more vigorously than ever.  And it is out there in the stars that we will find the answers to the riddles of the universe, the exciting frontiers, the possible partners in science and empathy.

Out there

This month's Analog offers a sneak preview of what this far future, when humanity is established in space, will look like..


by Kelly Freas

Pioneer Trip, by Joe Poyer


by Kelly Freas

On the first expedition to Mars, an electrical fire causes one member of a three-man crew to succumb to chemical-induced emphysema.  His condition, fatal if the ship does not turn 'round (though dubious even if it does) jeopardizes the mission.  The commander makes one decision; the stricken crewman another.

I'm not usually a fan of Joe Poyer, who writes as if he gets the same thrill from technical writing as others might from the works sold under the counter and wrapped in brown paper.  Nevertheless, this story was pretty affecting–and all the more poignant in light of last week.  A solid three star effort.

There Is a Crooked Man, by Jack Wodhams


by Kelly Freas

Science fiction usually explores the positive effects of technology.  This mildly droll story deals with how new advances are used for nefarious purposes.  Teleportation, brain transplant, mind-blanking frequencies, a precognition drug–these all lead to a race between criminal elements and the police.

Told in a bunch of very short snippets, it's a surprisingly readable, if not tremendous, tale.

Three stars.

The Returning, by J. B. Mitchel


by Leo Summers

A little spore, the only remaining particle of an alien expedition thousands of years old, is awoken by a flash flood through a desert air force proving ground.  The creature quickly awakens, eager to make contact with the sender of the modulated signals it is receiving.  To its dismay, the alien finds only a weaponized drone, hallmark of a savage society.  But the pacifistic being has other uses for the plane…

If J.B. Mitchel be "John Michel", then he is a veteran, indeed.  He first started writing in the 1930s, and I don't believe I've seen anything from him since I started the Journey.  His skill shows.  His prose is evocative, his descriptions vivid.  And I very much appreciate a story where the "monster from outer space" is basically a good guy, not bent on Earth's conquest.

Four stars.

The Quark Story, by Margaret L. Silbar

The one piece by a woman published in any SF magazine this month is this nonfiction article.  It's quite good. 

Last year, I read a lot of physics books for laymen.  The consensus has been that the menagerie of subatomic particles was reminiscent of the zoo of elements discovered by the late 19th Century.  There must be some underlying simplicity that results in the multiplicity.  For elements, it was electrons, protons, and neutrons.  For those and smaller elementary particles, the answer appears to be still smaller bits called "quarks".

It all makes perfect sense the way Ms. Silbar lays it out, even if editor John Campbell is a doubting Thomas about it.  The only fault to the article is it could have used another page or two to explain some of the trickier concepts (e.g. Pauli Exclusion Principle).

Four stars.

Amazon Planet (Part 3 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

The final chapter of Mack Reynold's latest turns everything on its head.  In the first installment, we followed Guy Thomas, a would-be merchant, to the planet of Amazonia.  Said world is reputed to be utterly dominated by women, and men aren't allowed to escape.  Upon arriving, it was revealed that Thomas is none other than Ronny Bronston, Section G agent extraordinaire.

Part Two involved Bronston meeting up with a domestic masculine resistance movement, "The Sons of Liberty", several attempts on his life, capture and truth-drug doping by the Amazon government, and copious examples of an almost laughable communistic, female-run despotism.  At this point, I had to wonder what the normally sensitive Reynolds was trying to do.  His matriarchy was a paper-thin caricature.

Turns out it was all a big put-on, mostly at the instigation of the daughter of one of the world's leaders.  Amazonia has long since evolved beyond its primitive beginnings and is actually quite a good example of enlightened equality and meritocracy.  The trouble in paradise comes not from within, but without–at the hands of a rogue Section G agent.

Part Three is half adventure story and half political lecture (as opposed to Part One which was all lecture and Part Two, which was mostly adventure).  Nevertheless, Reynolds isn't bad at both, and I do appreciate his both subverting expectations and extrapolating an interesting political experiment. 

Three stars for this segment, and three and a half for the whole, which is greater than the sum of its parts.

Elementary Mistake, by Winston P. Sanders


by Kelly Freas

I really liked the setup on this one: there's no faster than light drive, but there are matter transmitters (a la Poul Anderson's story "Door to Anywhere" in Galaxy).  So ships are sent out at relatavistic speeds to set up teleporters on distant worlds.  The trip takes five or ten or twenty years for outside observers, but the actually crew experience only a matter of months.  And so, humanity spreads.

Only on the world of Guinevere, not only are none of the required minerals available to build the transmitter, but the atmosphere itself has an inebriating effect.  What's a creative crew to do?

It's a reasonable puzzle story, though I have trouble contemplating a world where calcium doesn't exist but strontium does in quantity.  The only thing I took umbrage with was 1) the lack of women on the exploration team, and 2) the explicit implication that the only thing women are good for is servicing men.

Given that this issue has both a great science article by a woman and the conclusion of a serial about a perfectly good planet run by women, this stag story set in the far future is particularly jarring.  But Anderson/Sanders has always had a problem with this, which strikes me as strange given that his wife is herself a science fiction writer.

Anyway, three stars.

Leading the pack

Speaking of averages, Analog, which had hitherto been relatively low in the ranks of magazines for several months suddenly emerges as the best of the lot, clocking in at a decent 3.3 stars.  That's partly because its competition is rather weak.  Only SF Impulse (3.1) finished above water.  All the others scored less than three stars: IF (2.9), Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6), Worlds of Tomorrow (2.5), Galaxy (2.4), and Amazing (2.2).

Analog also, atypically, featured the most women contributors…since none appeared anywhere else!  Given that Lieutenant Uhura appears front and center on every episode of Star Trek, I think it's time literary SF caught up with its boob tube sibling.

Or we might end up with a much more lasting disaster!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[August 26, 1965] Stag Party (September 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Boys Only Club?

A very curious phenomenon has taken place over the last several years.  When I started writing the Journey, women were a rising force in professional science fiction. In 1959, three of the six "Best New Authors" were women (Rosel George Brown, Kit Reed, and Pauline Ashwell – all Journey favorites). About 10% of the stories (and 25% of what was worth reading) was produced by women. Both Amazing and Fantastic, two of the main science fiction monthly digests, were helmed by Cele Goldsmith.

Then…something happened. Over the last few years, the appearances of women in magazines has dwindled to a trickle. There are fewer appearing in novels, too (and since women tended to produce short fiction more often than long form, this change was particularly noticeable). As of this month, no single title across all of the published magazines was done under a sole female byline. Five of the last 45 novels this year were written by four women – two were by Andre Norton, who writes under a masculine byline.

Cele Goldsmith became Cele Lalli and left her editor position. This was probably not a result of her getting married but rather due to a change in her two magazines to a reprints-mostly format.

Though the loss of women in SF has not always hurt the quality of fiction produced, (indeed, this was one of the better months in a long time), I've no doubt that this development is bad for the genre in the long run. The fewer perspectives, the less diversity of viewpoints, the more our stories are going to fall into ruts. A wider pool of authors also creates better work as more talented folks get a chance to rise to the top. I don't know why the genre has become bereft of one half of the population, but I hope the situation changes soon.

Still Plugging Along

As I said, this month was, despite the alarming paucity of women SF contributors, surprisingly and refreshingly good. This month's Analog, so often a turgid relic, was a pleasant read from back to front. Let's take a look inside:


by Kelly Freas

Space Pioneer (Part 1 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

A nameless fellow wangles passage on the s/s Titov, a future-day Mayflower carrying 2000 colonists to New Arizona.  His goal is not exploring a new world, however – it's the assassination of the last of the Peshkopi clan. the would-be killer having gotten a tip that Peshkopi was slated to make the interstellar jaunt on the old freighter.

Inadvertently taking on the role of Roger Bock, holder of one of the mission's ten financial shares, the assassin quickly finds himself embroiled in a growing conflict between the mistreated passengers, little more than chattel in the holds, and the comparatively pampered crew and shareholders.  By the end of Part One, the identity of the Peshkopi is yet unknown to "Bock", but it is strongly implicated that it is actually Cathy Bergman, the elected representative of the colonists.  Of course, by the end of the serial's installment, Bock has much bigger things to worry about than his initial mission…

Pioneer is typically competent Reynolds stuff, even though the milieu is more Leinsterian.  If I have any complaint, it's that the science fiction trappings are virtually nonexistent.  This could be a story set in the 18th Century.

That said, I do enjoy the rather unflattering portrayal of colonist (and presumably planetary) exploitation, and the inclusion of developed female characters is nice.  Reynolds is usually good about that.

Four stars thus far.

The Life of Your Time, by Michael Karageorge


by Kelly Freas

On sublight but relativistic trip to Tau Ceti, the starship Emissary makes a shocking discovery: while time dilation affects the crew, slowing down the passage of time for their physical bodies and for the ship's systems, their minds remain at the speed of their original reference point – Earth.  Thus, to them, their bodies increasingly become prisons as their minds experience minutes, ultimately hours, for every second their bodies sense.  It's a story of tragedy, discovery, and triumph.

And a very unusual one for Analog.  It reminds me a bit of Niven's Wrong Way Street, featuring a gender-balanced and ethnically mixed crew (though they are all explicitly and deliberately Americans).  I don't know who Michael Karageorge is, but he definitely hit a triple on his first outing (and I dug the brand new concept of the hydrogen ramscoop ship).

Four stars.

LUT the Giant Mover, by Lyle R. Hamilton

The nonfiction article is both interesting and disappointing.  You can't fault the subject matter, which is the new launch facilities at Cape Kennedy.  But like most articles in Analog, it suffers for lack of subheadings and a coherent narrative.

So, three stars.  At least it's not about dowsing!

Computers Don't Argue, by Gordon R. Dickson


by John Schoenherr

Here is a dark cautionary tale about relying too heavily on computers, in which a fellow is sent a reader's club book by mistake, and is ultimately arrested and executed when he refuses to pay for it.

I get what they're trying to say, but the story takes place next year and while there is merit to avoiding overreliance on automated systems, there are just too many places where human involvement in the system would have broken the digital positive feedback loop. I hope. On the other hand, who knows?

A low three stars.

Test in Orbit, by Ben Bova


by Kelly Freas

Better is this story of a near-future conflict in space: Chet Kinsman, a USAF Captain with a week left to his hitch, is tasked to fly into space on an X-20 derivative and inspect an unknown satellite suspected of being an orbital bomb.  A mortal combat ensues.

I enjoyed all of this piece except the ending, which was both a little maudlin and should have had some falling action after the reveal.  Still, I think Ben Bova is a promising author, and I look forward to more of his stuff.

Three stars.

Psi for Sale, by Walter Bupp


by Kelly Freas

We've seen a lot of installments in the story of "Lefty" Walter Bupp, a telekinetic doctor with the grammar of a mook.  This time, John Berryman (the author's real name) offers us a look at Bupp's prehistory as well as the early history of the organization created for the benefit of American psychics.

I like the series, and this one was probably my favorite installment.  Perhaps a little superfluous, but still welcome (and it was neat to see a piece from the perspective of Maragon, the "Grand Master" of the "Lodge").

4 stars.

Say It with Flowers, by Winston P. Sanders


by Kelly Freas

Last up, we get another piece set in a future history in which the asteroid belt has won independence from the Earth.  Written under Poul Anderson's throwaway pen name, these are usually dry, technical stories of lesser appeal. 

This time, we get a fairly compelling tale about a Lieutenant in the "asterix" space service who is apprehended by North American forces on a courier mission.  It turns out that the message he is transmitting is carried on his person in an unique (but utterly telegraphed and unsurprising) way.

I liked the piece fine enough, though this line irked:

"The revolutionaries were so short of manpower that quite a few women held high rank."

An omission of that line would have gone a long way.  I don't need the suggestion that women are only able to succeed when there ain't enough men to do the work – especially when it's obvious that women can do the work.

Anyway, three stars.

Y marks the spot


Note, for the first time, the lack of women in the Journey round-up image – this one is of an IBM demonstration in Ethiopia.

Distressing lack of women authors aside, this was a good month for science fiction in magazines.  Analog clocked in at a respectable 3.5 stars, ahead of Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.2, largely thanks to its opening novella) and IF (2.9, dragged down by the Doc Smith serial).

Finishing roughly equivalent were Fantastic (3.5), New Worlds (3.5), and Science Fantasy (3.4).  If we include New Writings in SF #5 (3.5), which is a quarterly in book form but feels like a magazine, that makes the numbers even better.

So a mixed pleasure this month.  Let's hope this trend of female non-production reverses itself soon and results in even better times to come!




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[Sep. 1, 1963] How to Fail at Writing by not Really Trying (September 1963 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

A few years ago, I began trying to write fiction.  I'd been reading science fiction regularly for eight years at that point.  I figured if all those other guys and gals could do it, surely I, with hundreds of published pieces under my belt would find the transition an easy one.  So long as I came up with some clever twist, maybe showcased some unique visions of technology, that'd be enough.

I quickly found, as I collected rejection after rejection, that it wasn't.  I started running my stories past my wife and my daughter, both talented and discerning individuals.  It became clear that I was missing the things that make any story good, regardless of genre: pacing, compelling characters, dramatic tension.  A science fiction story must be, first and foremost, a story.

I took that lesson to heart, rewriting all of my salvageable pieces.  The end result?  Last month, I got published, and the future looks bright for my other works.  Now people want to read my stuff.  Heck, even I like my stuff now.


Sadly, this month's issue of Analog, with one notable exception, is chock full of the type of stories I know now not to write.  They are a series of technological travelogues with the barest attempt at fictioneering.  This kind of thing might tickle editor John Campbell's fancy, but it won't win any Hugos.  Moreover, this isn't the first time this has happened.  If this trend keeps up, at some point it's got to impact subscription numbers.  Right?

Take a look and tell me if you agree:



Which Polaris Do You Mean? by Robert S. Richardson

Every planet has got a north pole — that place where you can stand and watch the world rotate counter-clockwise below you.  But do other planets have a "North Star," a bright star like our Polaris that lies directly in line that pole and always points north?  And do Earth and other planets have South Stars?  Robert Richardson offers up an article that answers these questions.  I found it pretty interesting, but astronomy's my bag.  Three stars.

Industrial Revolution, by Winston P. Sanders

A few months back, Sanders wrote a story about planet-divers who plunged into the atmosphere of Jupiter to retrieve valuable industrial gasses.  I don't know how the author managed to turn such an interesting premise into a dull piece, but he did. 

In Revolution, he does it again, butchering the tale of a small venture that tries to turn an asteroid into a profitable fuel trans-shipping concern.  Earth's government sends a battleship out to stop the attempt at space capitalism, but doughty Jimmy Chung (the Chinese guy) and Michael Blades (the Irish guy, and hero) outsmart those evil bureaucrats.

Along the way, we are treated to excruciatingly long explanations of technology, pages of trite dialogue, and that perennial Analog specialty: lousy portrayals of women.  All told in a smug, self-satisfied manner that is also typical of the magazine. 

Those with any knowledge of our genre know that "Winston P. Sanders" is a pen name for old hand, Poul Anderson.  Perhaps he knew that this tale was a stinker and didn't want his name attached to it.  One star.

The Last Straw, by William J. Smith

Months after a deadly plane crash that took the lives of more than seventy passengers, Inspector Kessler still can't give up the investigation.  Was it sabotage?  A drunk passenger?  Or perhaps some kind of conspiracy?  All of the leads come up short…until a final clue puts the mystery in focus.

Straw is just three separate dialogues, and yet, the writing is so deft that we learn everything we need to know just from conversation.  The rule is generally "show, don't tell," but an experienced author can "show by telling" without it feeling expository.  I'm impressed.

As for the story, it's a fine, short "who-dunnit."  Or perhaps "what-dunnit" is a better description.  Four stars.

i>Chrono-Control, by Frank A. Javor

In the future, incorrigible prisoners are stuffed into one-person satellites and subjected to a life of privation and strict time-management.  One such convict decides he can't take it anymore and hatches a plan to break his mechanical warden.  But is Heaven in a pod better than Hell?

Aside from the utter implausibility of the setup, the pages upon pages explaining the prisoner's plot are incomprehensible.  The ending is silly, too.  In other words, Javor commits all of the sins described in my preamble. 

Two stars.

The Thirst Quenchers, by Rick Raphael

A hundred years from now, science has transformed every profession but one — that of the hydrologist.  These intrepid measurers must still manually plant sensors in remote locations to ensure an accurate picture of our water budget.  And in the 21st Century, water is such a precious commodity that no drop can be spared.

A fellow reviewer described this tale as "A cross between a railway timetable and a mail-order catalogue," which I find hard to improve upon.  It reads like an educational film views, and when the "action" starts, half-way through, it is stripped of all excitement. 

Some points that stood out, though:

1.  In the future, won't satellites be able to monitor our water supplies? 

2.  If water is in such short supply, and power so abundant (nuclear fission is ubiquitous, and dams have been abandoned), why aren't there large-scale desalination operations?

3.  Analog is a particularly masculine magazine with few/no female characters or writers.  Sometimes this quality approaches self-satiric levels, as with this sentence spoken by a ranger who is rebuffed when he offers a hydrologist a cup of substandard coffee:

"Man's drink for a real man," the ranger grinned.  "Us forestry men learn to make coffee from pine pitch.  Makes a man outta you."

One star.

Am I Still There?, by James R. Hall

This year saw the first successful lung transplant, easily the most significant organ transfer operation to date.  One can easily foresee a future in which every part of the body can be exchanged, granting a kind of immortality.  But what happens when your brain starts to wear out?  Can a new one be regrown, imprinted with your memories, and implanted?  Are you still you after such an operation?

It's a fascinating concept, but you won't find it well-explored in this story.  After a competent setup, Hall simply leaves the central question unanswered.  Two stars.

We are left with the question: Do Analog's stories stink because the writers can't write, or do Analog's contributors write poorly because that's what Campbell wants?  The fact that Anderson, at least, often turns in good efforts suggests the latter — or at least, they just don't try as hard for Campbell's mag. 

Anyway, here are the numbers for this month: Analog garnered a dismal 2.2 stars, beaten to the bottom only by Amazing, which got 2.1 stars.  F&SF was also a disappointment this month, though its sins tend to go in the opposite direction of Analog.  It got 2.6 stars.  Fantastic rounds out the losers with a 2.9 average.

On the winning side, Worlds of Tomorrow features solid works by Laumer and Dick, though the balance of the issue drags things to just 3 stars.  Experimental IF, which featured two woman authors (F&SF had one, the others, none), clocked in at 3.3 stars and had my favorite story.  And New Worlds scored a surprising 3.4 stars and the top spot, in large part due to its continuing serial by John Brunner.

All in all, August wasn't a great month for science fiction, but as usual, there was enough quality to see us through.  Speaking of which, Worldcon 21 has begun, and we will soon learn what the fans thought was the best of SF published last year.  There will be a full report when it's over…

[Want to discuss the Hugo winners in real-time?  Come join us at Portal 55! (Ed.)]

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[April 1, 1963] Stuck in the Past (April 1963 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

The world is a topsy-turvy place.  Whether it's a coup in Guatemala, or pro-Peronista unrest in Argentina, or a slow-motion civil war in Indochina, one can't open the newspaper without seeing evidence of disorder.  Even at home, it's clear that the battle for Civil Rights is just getting started, with the Southern Christian Leadership Conference planning a sit-in campaign in Birmingham, Alabama, the most segregated city in the country.  It's been a long time coming, but there's no question that many folks (on the wrong side of history) are upset at the changing order of things. 

So it's no wonder that some turn to the old familiar pleasures to escape from reality.  And while most science fiction magazines are now flirting with a new, literary style (particularly F&SF), a direction the British are starting to call "The New Wave," Analog Science Fact – Science Fiction sticks stolidly to the same recipe it's employed since the early 1950s: Psi, Hokum, and Conservatism. 

I suppose some might find the April 1963 Analog comforting, but I just found it a slog.  What do you think?

Which Stars Have Planets?, by Stanley Leinwoll

You'd think an article with a name like this would be right up my alley, but it turns out to be some metaphysics about planets causing sunspots.  Because, you see, Jupiter's orbital period of 12 years is close to the solar sunspot cycle of 11 years.  And if you add up the orbital periods of Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, and divide by four, you get 11 years. 

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?!?

Nothing.  Not a damned thing.  The latter observation is numerological folderol, and the former is meaningless given that sunspots don't only show up on the side facing Jupiter.

Two stars for the pretty pictures.

"What'll You Give?", by Winston Sanders

Last month, Editor Campbell wrote a piece about how the gas giants of our solar system were untapped reservoirs of chemical wealth just waiting to be exploited.  "Winston Sanders" (a frequent pseudonym of Poul Anderson) has obliged Campbell by writing about a Jupiter mining mission in which a deep-diving spacecraft encounters trouble while scooping the ammonia and methane from the giant planet's atmosphere. 

By all rights, it should be an exciting piece, and yet, it almost completely fails to be.  A tidbit the Young Traveler taught me as I was writing my latest novel: don't assume your audience will find the technical details fascinating.  You have to make them relevant to the characters, described through their reactions. 

I could have done without the hackneyed nationality depictions, too.  Three stars, because the topic is good.  The execution is less so.

Sonny, by Rick Raphael

Hayseed army recruit plays havoc with local electrical systems when he telepaths home instead of writing like everyone else.  The military sends him to Russia to send mental postcards.

It's as dumb and smug as it sounds — the most Campbellian piece of the issue.  It is in English, however.

Two stars.

Last Resort, by Stephen Bartholomew

Things start well-enough in this story about an astronaut slowly but fatally losing air from his capsule.  I liked the bit about using a balloon to find the leak (it drifts to the hole, you see), but all trace of verisimilitude is lost when the spaceman lights not one but two cigarettes during the crisis!  Maybe smokes of the future don't burn oxygen. 

And, of course, the story is "solved" with psi.  Because this is Analog.

Two stars.

Frigid Fracas (Part 2 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

After Middle Middle class mercenary, Major Joe Mauser, utterly louses up his chance at joining the ranks of the Uppers through military daring, he signs up with the underground movement whose aim is to tear the class system down altogether.  He is dispatched to the Sov-world capital of Budapest with the cover of being a liaison, but he's really an agent to see if the Workers' Paradise is similarly inclined to revolution.

This, the fourth installment in this particular future history, is rich on color but poor in credibility, and there's a lot more talking than doing.  It's not as disappointing as Reynolds' recent "Africa" series, but I expected a better conclusion to a promising saga.

Three stars.

Iceberg From Earth, by J. T. McIntosh

Iceberg is an espionage potboiler whose setting is a trio of colonized planets that, blessedly, isn't Earth, Mars, and Venus.  I did appreciate that the hero agent was a woman (the iceberg); I was sad that she wasn't the viewpoint character — instead, it was a rather lackluster and anti-woman fellow spy.  I did like the solar system McIntosh created, though.  Three stars.

A Slight Case of Limbo, by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.

Lastly, if not quite leastly, is this tale about a stout-hearted guy with a weak heart who gives his life to save another.  Except that the other is an alien who swaps the human's ticker with a machine, which turns out to be a mixed blessing.  The story meanders all over the place, and the ending is right out of a mediocre episode of Twilight Zone.  Still, it's not bad — I think I was just disappointed that the Simakian beginning had a Serlingian end.  Three stars.

And so we've come to the end of the April digests (though technically, Analog is now a slick).  Campbell's mag clocks in at a sad 2.6 stars.  Galaxy is the clear champion, at 3.5 stars.  Fantasy and Science Fiction, Fantastic, and New Worlds are all pleasantly above water at 3.2, and Amazing trails badly at 2.1.

Four of 41 fiction pieces were by women — par for the course.  There were enough 4 and 5-star stories to fill two good digests, my favorite of which was On the Fourth Planet, by Jesse Bone.

Speaking of quality, I am proud to announce that Galactic Journey is a finalist for the Best Fanzine Hugo!  Thanks to all who of you who nominated us, and I hope we'll have your continued support come Labor Day.  Either way, we're just happy to have you along for the ride. 

What have you enjoyed the most about the Journey?

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[August 4, 1960] Phoning it in (September 1960 Analog)

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If you hail from California, particularly the southern end of the state, you might find foreign the concept of seasons.  I know I expect mild, sunny days every time I step outside.  We have a joke around here that the weather report is updated once a week, and that's just to give it a fresh coat of paint.

Japan, on the other hand, is a country rooted in seasonality.  Every month brings a new package of delights to the denizens of this Far Eastern land.  Now, usually I'm a smart fellow, and I only travel here in the Spring for the cherry blossoms, or the Fall to see the fiery colors of the wizened leaves.  Only a madman would visit in the Summer, when the heat and humidity are ferocious, and when neither is mitigated by the constant rain that characterizes the immediately prior Typhoon season.

This year, I joined the crazy persons' club.

Thankfully, the new set of trains seems to be consistently equipped with air conditioning, and in any event, one can often get a nice breeze from the frantic hand-fannings of one's neighbors.  And this country is lovely enough, and its people such good company, that one can tolerate a little physical discomfort.  For a while, anyway.

Osaka has always been a particular favorite of mine with its regional delicacies and colorful local dialect (virtually unintelligible if all you know is schoolbook Japanese).  This city has an independent streak, refereshing after the aggressive servility that characterizes Tokyo, and, perhaps not coincidentally, we have a great number of friends in this area.

Of course, social obligations keep my leisure time to a minimum, but I've managed to steal a few hours between shopping, taking tea, and visiting landmarks to finish the September 1960 Analog.  Here is my report:

I've already told you about the fantastic The High Crusade, penned by Poul Anderson.  This is not his only contribution to this issue.  In addition to the conclusion of his serial novel, there is also (under the pen-name, Winston Sanders), Anderson's short story, Barnacle Bull, in which a Norwegian four-man spaceship sails on an eccentric orbit through the asteroid belt on a mission of reconnaissance.  Their aim is to lay the foundation for a nationalized asteroid mining concern.  There are two snags–one is the density of micrometeoroids between Mars and Jupiter.  The other is the existence of a space-borne life form that grows magnificently on the hulls of spaceships, fouling radars and antennas, not to mention spoiling the clean lines of a vessel.  It turns out that the two problems nicely cancel each other out.

It's well-written, and no one portrays Scandinavians like Viking Poul, but the story is a slight one.  I give it bonus points for its realistic portrayal of near-future spaceflight, however.

Easily the worst story in this issue is Randall Garret's By Proxy, in which a young, brash scientist announces his intention to launch a ship powered by some sort of intertia-less drive, but is oppressed, by turns, by the government, the military, and a cynical press.  Of course, the thing works.  I'm not sure if Campbell specifically asked young Randy for a bespoke story on this, one of Campbell's favorite subjects, or if Randy chose this topic because it ensured him a sale.  Either way, it is not only a bad story, but the quality of writing is at the low end of the author's range.  About the only good thing about the story is it features no women.  Given Randy's reputation, that's a blessing.

H.B. Fyfe, a grizzled veteran of the pulp era, comes out of retirement to offer up A Transmutation of Muddles, a sort of sub-par Sheckley story about the four-cornered negotiations between a marooned space merchant, his insurance adjustor, the aliens on whose sacred land he crashed, and the government.  It's inoffensive, unremarkable.

The last fiction entry is Everett Cole's Alarm Clock, about the pressure cooker of a situation a canny military drop-out is thrust into in order to awaken his peculiar talents so that he can join the legendary Special Corps.  It's the sort of thing I like seeing from Harry Harrison.  Cole isn't as good as Harrison.

Last up is Asimov's fine article on the extent of the solar atmosphere, and how it interacts with the tenuous outer regions of the various planetary atmospheres, producing brilliant auroras and the deadly Van Allen Belts.  It's amazing how much we have learned about the subject in the last two years, a revolutionary period for interplanetary physics. 

All told, we've got a just-under 3-star issue.  Once again, the great serial and non-fiction pieces balance out the mediocre short entries.  And the less we speak of Campbell's editorials, the better…

See you in a few, likely from sleepy Fukuoka!

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[Feb. 12, 1960] Pulling up (Mar. 1960 Astounding)

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It had to happen some day–Astounding has pulled itself out of a nose dive, for now.

Last time, I discussed the most excellent serial, Deathworld.  Still, a single good serial does not a good issue make.  Thankfully, Campbell has at long last, and after a merciless rough patch, delivered a quite readable book.

J.T. McIntosh can always be relied upon to provide entertainment; his lead novella, Immortality for Some is no exception.  In the future, society's most worthy, the 10% with sufficient talents and/or accomplishments to make the cut, are allowed to undergo "Rebirth."  This process erases all memories and restores the body to an adolescent stage of physical development.  The special person gets to live again in a sort of reconstituted reincarnation. 

But what happens when one of the world's intellectual elite doesn't want to cheat death?  This is a world that doesn't want to lose a cultural treasure, and it takes an exceptional person, indeed, to evade Rebirth.

Strongly written, with the first half written from the point of view of an aged woman pianist of superlative talent giving her last concert before Rebirth; the second stars the aforementioned fellow—a seemingly unremarkable caretaker whom the musician befriends.  It's worth your time.

And now, I shall surprise my audience by saying with a straight face that I actually enjoyed Randall Garrett's contribution to this issue: In Case of Fire….  In this far future, the sprawling Terran Empire cannot afford to send its best and brightest as ambassadors to less-esteemed stations.  The story opens on a remote, unimportant world whose embassy is staffed with barely functional neurotics.  Yet in that insanity lies the key to ending an interstellar war.  Garrett manages to be somewhat clever and to not offend.  Quite an accomplishment for him.

Chris Anvil's Shotgun Wedding is another of his unremarkable space-fillers about an alien race whose plan to disrupt humanity by flooding the market with clairvoyant television backfires.  One bit I liked, however, was the depiction of pen pals from different countries using their television screens to correspond across thousands of miles.  When the world is finally wired into OMNIVAC, decades from now, I imagine we'll see such a phenomenon.

Editor Campbell has been trying to make a go of the slick non-fiction section of his magazine for several months.  This issue is the first with readable articles, the first of which is Mars: A Summing Up by R.S. Richardson (perhaps better known by his nom d'plume, Philip Latham).  Mr. Richardson does an admirable, if slightly dry, job of comprehensively summarizing the current state of knowledge regarding the mysterious Red Planet. 

We've enjoyed three relatively close approaches to Mars over the past six years, the likes of which will not recur until 1971, by which time we will probably have sent at least one probe to investigate close-up.  As a result, scientists have amassed a bonanza of information.  Yet it is still unknown whether or not Mars has life, though if it does, it must be of a very low order.  The most exciting work has been done by the astronomer A. Dolfuss, who has determined the nature of Martian soil to examination of its polarization (the non-randomness of the angle of vibration of light that reflects from it).  That we've learned so much about Mars is, of course, a marvel in and of itself.  To quote the author, "To tell anything about a body that never comes closer than thirty-five million miles taxes your ingenuity to the utmost."

Dr. Asimov was also tapped to provide an article after a long hiatus from Astounding's pages.  Microdesign for Living, about the biochemical synthesis of proteins, is not one of his better pieces, which is to say that is readable but not memorable.

Poul Anderson (as his Astounding alter-ego Winston P. Sanders) wraps things up with a short piece called The Barrier Moment.  Scientists may not know why one can't go back in time more than three years, but a philospher believes he has the horrifying answer.  Perhaps there isn't any time to go back to…

All told, the March 1960 Astounding clocks in at a respectable three-and-a-half stars.  That is the best this magazine has been since I started rating the issues in January 1959.  I sincerely hope Campbell can keep this up!

—

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



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The Bomb, the Clock, and the Devil (August 1959 Fantasy and Science Fiction; 7-02-1959)

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In this month’s F&SF editorial, editor Doug Mills reports that he’s gotten a number of complaints regarding the oversaturation of stories in the post-apocalyptic, time travel, and deal-with-the-Devil genre.  Mr. Mills’ response was that any genre can be oversaturated, but quality will always be quality, and F&SF will publish quality stories in whatever genre it pleases.  In fact, there are stories dealing with all three of the "oversaturated" genres in this issue.

What do you think?  I have to agree with Mr. Mills.  Personally, I can never get enough of After the Bomb stories, time travel is often a hoot, and the Devil features in relatively few tales these days, in my experience.   But I’d like your opinion on the matter.
I had not realized that Poul Anderson’s Time Patrol story had taken up so much of the current issue; there isn’t much left to review.  There is some goodness, however:

Rosebud, by Ray Russell, is teleological nonsense in a single-pager.  Damon Knight’s book review column deals with horror, and is interesting, as usual.  I wish he were still helming IF (come to think of it, I just received this month’s copy… I wonder who’s in charge.)

Kit Reed’s Empty Nest is well nigh unreadable, but I think it’s a horror about being eaten by anthropoid birds.

Obituary, by Isaac Asimov, is actually quite good, and one of his few stories from the viewpoint of a woman.  It involves domestic abuse, a truly evil (yet in a plausible and everyday sort of way) villain, and a satisfactory, grisly come-uppance.  I hope the good doctor is not writing from experience in this one…

Finally, we’ve got Pact, by Poul Anderson (under his pseudonym, Winston P. Sanders).  This is the aforementioned Devilish Deal story, and it is my favorite story of the issue.  I hear you gasp–an Anderson story is my favorite?  Yes!  It's clever all the way through, this story of a demon summoning a human in the hopes of consumating a contract.  Fine stuff.

My apologies for the shortness of this installment.  I'll make it up next time.  Perhaps.

P.S. One of the reasons I enjoy science fiction so much is the clever gadgets.  In Asimov's story, the villain uses a "desktop computer" with some sort of typewriter keys attached.  Boy, would that be a fine tool to have, and I've never seen the like in a story before.  Something to look forward to in a decade or two?



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Anderson breaks the mold! (April 1959 Astounding; 3-18-1959)

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Good gravy!  Two good Andersons in a row?

This month's Astounding opens with Wherever you are, by "Winston P. Sanders."  If it wasn't the swashbuckling yet science-adoring prose, it was the heroine protagonist's name and ethnicity (Ulrica Ormstad–couldn't get more Swedish!) that suggested Mr. Sanders might well be the well-known nordic science fiction writer, Poul Anderson.  A quick checking of sources confirmed the suspicion.

Well, it's really good.  The fierce soldier, Major Ormstad, gets to be the viewpoint character for half the novelette, whereupon her meek and brainy shipmate, Didymus Mudge, becomes the reader's eyes.  Both have become marooned on an alien planet, an ocean away from the local Terran base.  Ship's instruments have been destroyed, and constant cloud cover and a lack of a magnetic pole preclude navigation.  It is up to Mudge to puzzle out a way home, and up to Ormstad to deal with the fierce mini-Tyrannosaurs so as to secure transportation.  My favorite line of the story goes to Ormstad, who initially thinks little of Mudge yet deigns to speak to him anyway:

"For one honest human conversation, in any human language, she would trade her soul.  Make it Swedish, and she'd throw in her sidearm."

On to the next story.  When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was John Dough and the Cherub, by L. Frank Baum, sort of a Wizard of Oz side story.  In one of the chapters, the story's heroes (John Dough and Chick the Cherub) are captured and threatened with execution.  However, this execution is delayed when Chick the Cherub begins to tell the tale of "The Silver Pig."  So entranced are the heroes' captors that they delay the execution every night so as to hear more of the pig's adventures.  Of course, the story is designed to be endless so as to forestall the execution long enough for John Dough and the Cherub to escape.

I learned much later that this had been the plot to 1,001 Arabian Nights, and the cliché has been used a myriad of times since then.  Usually, the set-up is that sentence of death will follow some religiously or legally prescribed ritual, with the sentenced to have some choice as to the format of the ritual.  Virtually every story has the same format–the reader is informed that our hero has worked out the puzzle to prolong his/her life, but we don't get to find out the solution until the end.  Since classic science fiction favors the "gotcha" ending, I've seen this kind of story a lot in my literary travels.

So it is with Now Inhale, by Eric Frank Russell.  I didn't much care for his last story, but this one is fine.  A Terran is imprisoned for suspected espionage on an alien world.  Condemned to death, he is allowed one final game of his choice before strangulation.  The trick is to prolong the game, to neither win nor lose.  The record was 17 days.  Our hero beats this record a dozen-fold and is prepared to play the game forever, if need be.  Can you guess the game?

I'm afraid the rest of the ish meanders into mediocrity (which is perhaps above par for Astounding these days.  Chris Anvil's The Sieve is nothing special–on a brand new colony world, half the pioneers take up smoking the local marijuana and become lazy and shiftless.  The rest of the colonists decide to let them starve over the winter.  Reefer madness, indeed.

Gordy Dickson turns in a disappointing performance with The Catch, in which a galactic federation fairly begs humanity to retake the reins after thousands of years of retirement.  It seems those darned aliens just can't stand the burden of leadership.  And it turns out they got all of their technology from humanity the last time we were ascendant.  Poor little primitive aliens. 

Definitely a story after Campbell's heart.

Finally, we have Set a Thief by H. Chandler Elliott, a Canadian brain doctor whose stuff I've never before read.  It's an interesting first contact story, though told in a flip off-hand manner I didn't much care for.  Is it a set of thieves' tools or a lady's handbag?  An interesting case of convergent evolution, to be sure.

The rest of the ish is the final installment of The Pirats of Ersatz so there's nothing more to report for this month.  My hands are throbbing, so I may take a break until March 24.  I'll have lots to write about by then, though.

Thanks for reading!

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