All posts by Gideon Marcus

[June 30, 1969] Anywhere but here (July 1969 Analog)

June 30, 2024 Gideon Marcus 5 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Scenes from abroad

And so, our longest Japan trip to date has wrapped up. We're still developing the many rolls of film we took, but here are some highlights from our vacation that included the cities Fukuoka, Amagi, Kobe, Osaka, Nagoya, and Tokyo:

Nanami and The Young Traveler zoom down a slide in an eastern suburb of Nagoya

Nanami and her husband perform at a Nagoya jazz club

This is Nanami's baby, Wataru, and her mother-in-law, Haruko!

Lorelei poses in front of Ultraman, one of Japan's newest superheros

Lorelei has become smitten with kimono and yukata. We had to buy a new suitcase to fit them all (and the model trains Elijah bought)

The trouble back home

On the doorstep to my house was a big pile of mail that my neighbor has kept for me. In addition to sundry bills, the latest FAPA packet, and a handful of independent 'zines (including the latest from the James Doohan International Fan Club), there was the latest issue of Analog. Interest piqued by the lovely (as always) Freas cover, I tore into the mag before unpacking. Sadly, it was all downhill from there…

by Kelly Freas

… And Comfort to the Enemy, by Stanley Schmidt

When an exploration ship lands on a seemingly uninhabited planet, its rapacious, by-the-book commander rubs his hands with glee at the prospect of colonizing plunder. But it turns out there are intelligent natives—it's just that their "technology" is actually the fine control of all of their fellow creatures creating a sort of artificial Deathworld. When the invaders refuse to leave, they take a hostage, who they use as a communications go-between. And then they unleash a deadly plague which ravages first the explorer ship and then their entire race. How the colonizers get out of the predicament is somewhat clever.

by Kelly Freas

This one starts a bit slowly, and the explorers are all too human, even though they're supposed to be aliens. However, once it gets moving, it's pretty good, and you can sympathize with both the planet dwellers and the decimated invaders.

Three stars.

The Great Intellect Boom, by Christopher Anvil

by Kelly Freas

A pharmaceutical company stumbles upon a brain-booster pill. Unfortunately, it promotes eggheaded learning, but not application of this learning. As a result, the nation's economy stumbles as more and more citizens would rather discuss than do.

This is a pretty thinly veiled attack on academia and the intelligentsia, which surely must have tickled editor Campbell's reactionary heart.

One star.

The Mind-Changer, by Verge Foray

by Kelly Freas

Boy this one was a disappointment. We last saw Verge Foray in a nice little piece called Ingenuity, which featured a post-atomic world where humanity was divided into psionically adept but primitive and regressing "Novos" and scientific, but conservative, "Olsaperns." Starn was the hero of that story—a Novo with a rare gift of insight and intuition who managed to get in good with the technical Olsaperns.

This sequel story involves Starn's attempts to develop technology that will augment psionic powers such that they can rival or exceed the technology of the Olsaperns. Fine and well, but really, this is just one of Campbell's "scientific" articles on psionics with a fictional coating. I already find psi to be a pseudoscientific bore, but to try to add a veneer of respectability to it by invoking scientific trappings is distasteful in the extreme.

It's also a really boring tale. One star.

The Choice, by Keith Laumer

by Kelly Freas

A three-astronaut explorer team from Earth is abducted by mysterious aliens who offer each of them a choice of fates—all of them some form of execution. The two military members of the crew meet their fate boldly; the third is a far out civilian cat who doesn't cotton to his own extinction. As a result, the story has a happy ending.

There is serious Laumer and there is funny Laumer. Funny Laumer is usually the more trivial, and this is trivial funny Laumer.

Two stars.

The Man from R.O.B.O.T., by Harry Harrison

by Peter Skirka

A couple of years back, Harrison brought out the droll The Man from P.I.G., about a secret agent who goes undercover as a pig farmer. The twist was that the pigs weren't his livestock but his accomplices. In a similar vein, here we have the story of an agent who goes undercover as a robot salesman, but the robots are his accomplices. Of course, given that the robots are intelligent, and one of them is even designed to look like the agent, one wonders why there needs to be human involvement at all in this case.

Anyway, the agent is dispatched to a rancher planet whose women folk all seem to be locked up, and whose men folk are all paranoid violence freaks. Is it genetic? Or is it in the cattle?

I always get "funny" Harrison (frex "The Stainless Steel Rat") and "funny" Laumer (e.g. "Retief") mixed up. And here they're back to back! Now I'll never disentangle them.

Two stars.

The Empty Balloon, by Jack Wodhams

by Peter Skirka

Last up, a throwaway story about a diplomat who thwarts a telepathic interrogation machine. There's no real explanation as to how he does it, really, and most of the story exists to set up the lame ending.

Two stars.

Wow. What a wretched month for magazine fiction! With the exception of the atypically superlative New Worlds (3.6 stars), everything else was mediocre at best. IF managed to break the three star barrier, but just barely (3.1), same as Fantasy and Science Fiction. Amazing scored 2.6—which is a good month for that mag, while Galaxy got the same score, which constituted a bad month.

Indeed, all of the better-than-average fiction would fill just one decently sized digest. Incidentally, we had exactly one (1) short story produced by a woman, and the one woman-penned nonfiction this month was a biography…of a man.

It just goes to show that all the good stuff seems to be happening overseas these days. I hope the next month of mags reinforces my decision to come home!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy

[June 20, 1969] Where to? (July 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

June 20, 2024 Gideon Marcus 4 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Nihon, banzai!

In just the last ten years of covering our trips to Japan as part of Galactic Journey, we have watched with amazement as Japan executed nothing short of a miracle. As of this year, the country is now the third largest economy in the world, and "Made in Japan" is no longer a stamp of poor quality. Datsuns are rolling off the assembly line by the thousands and ending up in American showrooms. The sky is dark with industrial smog. It's almost enough to eclipse the left-wing student protests that keep popping up around the nation.

Of course, Japan still has a ways to go, at least domestically. Fully a fifth of its population still is minimally housed, squatting in one-room shacks and waiting for the government to make good on its five year plan to give everyone a decent home.

One family that has no such difficult is the Fujiis, our adoptive parents, who we last visited five years ago! This trip was particularly exciting for reasons I shall detail shortly.

First, a picture of the flower shop on the way to their house. The town is Amagi, an agricultural town that specializes in grapes and persimmons.

And now the estate. It's laid out as a square with an internal garden. What's significant is that it dates back to the 1840s—a time when Japan was still ruled by a Shogun. The estate is essentially a relic, representative of a style that had not changed since Elizabethan times. At a time when so many of these historic residences are being torn down or falling apart, this one stands as a living treasure.

Yuko, our adoptive mom, gave Lorelei a set of Japanese watercolors, which she employed to draw the garden as she saw it.

The architecture of the place, alone, is remarkable. This is construction without nails, all of the timbers custom built and joined together.

What's inside is even more remarkable. The back house used to house a pawn shop. Even the boxes are more than a century old.

This dress was made by a princess.

And this kimono was hocked by a penniless samurai for a little cash. Apparently, this happened a lot.

This is century-old paper, also sold by a samurai. Among the sheets was a paper mock-up of a hakama, the armor the samurai wore.

This is in the house. Yukio, Yuko's husband, was a Kyoto cop before he retired. This relic, however, long pre-dates him—it's the kind of lantern used by police in the 19th Century!

I hope you enjoyed this little excursion into the past. Now for a trip into the future…and regions fantastic!

Leiber of the party

Every summer, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction dedicates an issue to science fiction luminary. For the July 1969 edition, that fellow is Fritz Leiber. His name is rarely mentioned in the same breath as, say, Heinlein or Asimov, though he is their contemporary (more or less), but when he's good he's very good. Does he make this issue stand out? Let's see!

by Ed Emshwiller

Ship of Shadows, by Fritz Leiber

First up, a brand new piece by the man, himself. It stars Spar and his talking cat, Kim. No, this isn't a fantasy, but a highly personal adventure of an old man living in weightlessness aboard some sort of spaceship. Most of the folks onboard have forgotten about Earth, and there now appear to be eldritch beings aboard—werewolves and vampires—making prey out of those who remain.

Things I liked: the setup is revealed slowly, and it's the first story I've read from the point of view of someone who desperately needs glasses…but doesn't know it. And there is that characteristic Leiber poesy to the writing.

Things I didn't like: the story moves glacially, and I didn't feel like it told anything new. I kept finding myself distracted every two or three pages.

So…three stars, I guess.

Fritz Leiber (profile), by Judith Merril

Famed writer and anthologist (and book reviewer) Judy Merril gushes over her hero, Fritz Leiber. Half biography, half hagiography, half history of SF, it's a worthy piece, especially if you want to be introduced to his early work (and happen, like me, to own a complete set of Unknown).

Four stars.

Demons of the Upper Air, IIX, by Fritz Leiber

A pretty good poem about our first interstellar astronauts, told from the point of view of someone stuck on the ground.

Three stars.

Fritz Leiber: A Bibliography, by Al Lewis

As it says on the tin—no more, and no less.

(no rating)

by Gahan Wilson

To Aid and Dissent, by Con Pederson

It's easy to get in trouble out Mars or asteroids way. To that end, a fleet of sherpas has been bred—literally. These rescue ships, which sacrifice themselves upon landing to deposit air and victuals, comprise a row of linked simian brains inside a spacecraft shell. Think the ape version of The Ship Who… series. Sherpa Bravo one day decides he's sick of being aynyone's monkey and launches a one-primate civil rights revolution.

Clunkily written and nothing special. Two stars.

The Place with No Name, by Harlan Ellison

Norman Mogart was an Entertainment Liaison Agent. Pfui. He was a pimp. When he gets into trouble with the law there's no way out of, he makes a deal with…well…not quite the Devil…and finds himself hip-deep in two of the biggest martyr legends of history.

The first half is excellent and pure Ellison. The second changes the tone so sharply, beware of whiplash. It ends poignantly enough, but the two halves don't quite mesh.

As is usually the case—Ellison consistently produces what are, for me, three-and-a-quarter star stories…round to four stars?

Transgressor's Way, by Doris Pitkin Buck

A knight errant proves to be anything but a knight bachelor—his modus operandi is to shamelessly seduce young maids and then bunk them all in separate towers for him to enjoy at his leisure. But what if they should discover each other?

This story is told in too confusing a shorthand, and it is too frivolous in substance, to earn more than two stars from me.

A Triptych, by Barry N. Malzberg

An interesting, behind-the-scenes look at what goes on in the minds of the three astronauts who get sent in the Apollo. It's not bad, but Barry isn't very well in touch with the actual space program. One telltale: he assumes that the spacemen have little to do between TV shots. In fact, they are kept too busy—indeed, both the Apollo 7 and 10 commanders cut pages out of their assignments because the astronauts were overworked and making mistakes (as anyone who regularly watched coverage of either of these flights should know – Ed).

Three stars.

Two at a Time, by Isaac Asimov

In which the Good Doctor explains how we measure the mass of planets by observing their effect on each other (specifically, the common elliptical focus around which they both orbit). Several pages that could be reduced to one or two lines of formulae, but he looks to be setting something up.

Three stars.

Litterbug, by Tony Morphett

Finally, a fun piece about a fellow named Rafferty who invents a teleporter. Problem is, he can't control where things go, and he can't bring them back. Solution: market the thing as a garbage can.

Problem 2: What happens when aliens at the destination get annoyed at all the litter on their planet?

Three stars.

Lifeless

At least for me, my real life excursion was more interesting than the flights of fancy I took while riding the trains. With the exception of Merril's piece, the rest is pretty forgettable. Well, I suppose you won't forget the Emshwiller cover anytime soon. Anyway, next time I'll be reading F&SF, it'll be in the endotic locale of my home town. May the contents of the August issue be just as different from July's as the Orient is to Southern California.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[June 10, 1969] Points West and Above (July 1969 Galaxy)

June 10, 2024 Gideon Marcus 10 Comments

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

The Orient

Thanks to centuries of tradition, we tend to think of the Far East as…well…east! But for us, going to Japan means a 12-hour flight west—literally into tomorrow, as we cross the International Date Line to do it.

This week marked the beginning of our fourteenth trip to Japan. How things have changed since we first went back in 1948, when flying via Northwest Orient meant an entire day of travel with multiple stops. Travel these days is practically instantaneous by comparison.

We were even able to hop on a same-day domestic flight from Tokyo to Fukuoka, which is where I'm writing this. I've been able to develop my first roll of color film, the results of which I am happy to share:

The Alient

The latest issue of Galaxy is, like this month's IF, the first under the helm of Ejler Jakobsson, and it's also a month late. Will it be more interesting than the rather dull IF? Well, it's certainly different. After all, the lead piece is one I would have expected to appear in Analog. Why wouldn't Campbell want the sequel to the incredibly popular and presumably lucrative Dune. Dunno… but here it is:

by Dan Adkins

Dune Messiah (Part 1 of 5), by Frank Herbert

by Jack Gaughan

And so we return to Arrakis, the Dune planet, the only source of the spice melange, which gives the power of prophecy, allows the navigators of the Guild to ply the hyperspace lanes, and is the only currency of note in the Empire.

Last time, Paul Atreides, son of the murdered Duke of Arrakis, had seized his destiny as the kwizatz haderach, leading his army of desert Fremen against the Padisha Emperor in a coup that placed the young general in charge of a galactic domain.

It is now twelve years later, and disparate factions are plotting to overthrow Paul, who has become a figurehead in an interstellar Jihad. The plotters include the Bene Geneserit, the sisterhood that manipulated Paul and his sister, Aria's, genetic destiny; the navigators' Guild, and Irulan, wife of Paul, and daughter of the cruel Baron Harkonnen, who wrested Arrakis from Paul's father.

We know there's a plot because it is the subject of an endless scene at the beginning of the serial installment. And because Paul then discusses the plot at length with his companins at an endless meeting of state in the latter part of the serial. The plot involves predestination, an heir for Paul (his true love, the Fremen Chani, is being kept secretly sterile by Irulan, who wants to beat the child), and the reincarnated form of Duncan Idaho, one of Paul's comrades in the last book.

There. Now you don't actually have to read this chapter, which is all for the best, as it's as deadly dull and motionless as the worst parts of Dune. At least the viewpoints don't change every five sentences.

Two stars so far.

Full Commitment, by Robert S. Martin

Senator Clint is on an investigative junket to Burma, where America is in an endless war against… the Capitalists? What happened to the Communists? And why do all the soldiers parrot the exact same line when explaining why they're there to fight?

Brainwashing, obviously…which is how Clint is ultimately disposed of.

A pointless story, poorly done. One star.

The City That Was the World, by James Blish

by Dan Adkins

James Blish tells the story of a man who makes Howard Hughes look like a piker. John Hillary Dane is a man with vision…or perhaps visions is more appropriate. First, he builds an enormous pair of telescopes four miles high in the Andes. Then he erects a mile-high skyscraper in Denver, the mile-high city. While the reason for the former is never really explained (other than the obvious reasons—the seeing is much better above the majority of the atmosphere), the purpose of the immense building is the point of the story.

I don't really want to spoil things, so I'll just say that the tale deals with time travel, Malthusian overpopulation, and the value (or lack thereof) of friendship. It's a good story, although few of the elements are really plausible.

Four stars (and the best piece in the issue).

For Your Information: Eugen Sanger and the Rocket-Propelled Airplane, by Willy Ley

Willy Ley's article is on Eugen Saenger, the Austrian cum German rocket scientists perhaps best known for his design of the America Bomber—a rocket-plane that would fly high enough to skip on the upper atmosphere until it reached New York. There's a lot of good information that probably can't easily be found elsewhere, since Ley relies on at least one personal source. That said, it's kind of a dull piece.

Three stars.

A Brief History of the Revolution, by David Lunde and James Sallis

In a piece that might well have come out in Fantasy and Science Fiction (or maybe the old Galaxy sister mag, Beyond), we have a young couple hounded by their animate furniture until they are effectively evicted. The cause of all this appears to be the wife's desire to have a child.

Not very good. Two stars.

The Kinsolving's Planet Irregulars, by A. Bertram Chandler

by Reese

Last up is the latest journey of Commodore John Grimes, the famed skipper of the Galactic Rim. In a direct sequel to The Rim Gods, Grimes and his First Mate (though likely not his first mate) Sonya head back to Kinsolving’s Planet. You may recall from the last story (or the review thereof) that the team Grimes escorted tried to exploit some time-space weakness to psionically summon Jehovah. Instead, they incarnated the Olympian pantheon.

This time, their efforts throw Grimes into a fantasy land populated exclusively by fictional characters, from a certain Baker Street detective to larger-than-life but real people like Oedipus and Achilles. Things get really weird when Grimes starts to question his own reality…

I always enjoy Chandler's Rim stories, but this one is just a bit too cute. It also looks like the author is tired of the Grimes series and would love to end it…if only the money weren't good.

Three stars.

Things that came and things to come

And that's that. Quality-wise, a thoroughly unremarkable issue. Indeed, the only real bit of note is how many of the stories seem to be in the wrong magazine. I confess I am kind of looking forward to the post-Pohl era. I want to see how things change for this venerable magazine.

Of course, I also know to be careful what I wish for…

(and stay tuned for more updates from Japan!)

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Magazine, Science / Space Race, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[May 20, 1969] Ad Astra et Infernum (June 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

May 20, 2024 Gideon Marcus 8 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

To the Stars

Venus has gotten a lot of attention from Earth's superpowers. Part of it is its tremendous similarity to our home in some ways: similar mass, similar composition, similar distance from the Sun (as such things go). But the biggest reason why so many probes have been dispatched to the Solar System's second world (to wit: Mariner 2, Mariner 5, Venera 1, Veneras 2 and 3, and Venera 4) is because it's the closest planet to Earth. Every 19 months, Earth and Venus are aligned such that a minimum of rocket is required to send a maximum of scientific payload toward the Planet of Love. Since 1961, every opportunity has seen missions launched from at least one side of the Pole.

This year's was no exception: on January 5 and 10, the USSR launched Venera (Venus) 5 and 6 toward the second planet, and this month (the 16th and the 18th), they arrived.

Our conception of Venus has changed radically since spaceships started probing the world. Just read our article on the planet, written back in 1959, before the world had been analyzed with radar and close-up instruments. Now we know that the planet's surface is the hottest place in the Solar System outside the Sun: perhaps 980 degrees Fahrenheit! The largely carbon dioxide and nitrogen atmosphere crushes the ground at up to 100 atmospheres of pressure. The planet rotates very slowly backward, but there is virtually no difference between temperatures on the day and night sides due to the thick atmosphere. There is no appreciable magnetic field (probably because the planet spins so slowly) so no equivalent to our Van Allen Belts or aurorae.

This is all information returned from outside the Venusian atmosphere. Inference. To get the full dope, one has to plunge through the air. Venera 4 did that, returning lower temperatures and air pressures. This was curious, but it makes sense if you don't believe the Soviet claim that the probe's instruments worked all the way to the ground—a dubious assertion given the incredibly hostile environment. No, Venera 4 probably stopped working long before it touched down.

The same may be true of Veneras 5 and 6. TASS has not released data yet, but while the two probes were successfully delivered onto Venus' surface, we have no way of knowing that they returned telemetry all the way down. Indeed, the Soviet reports are rather terse and highlight the delivery of medals and a portrait of Lenin to Venus, eschewing any mention of soft landing. The news does spend a lot of time talking about solar wind measurements on the way to Venus—useful information, to be sure, but beside the point.

The Venera spacecraft and lander capsule

Anyway, at the very least, we can probably hope to get some clarity on what goes on in the Venusian air. It may have to wait until next time before we learn just what's happening on the ground, however.

To Hell

I bitched last month about the lousy issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Well, I am happy to say that the May issue is more than redeemed by this June 1969 issue, which, if not stellar throughout, has sufficient high points to impress and delight.

by Gray Morrow

Sundance, Robert Silverberg

Silverbob has a knack for poetic, evocative writing as well as rich settings. He has successfully made the transition from '50s hack SF author to New Wave vanguard. Which is why this rather forgettable tale is all the more disappointing.

It's about a Sioux spaceman named Tom Two Ribbons who is part of a terraforming contingent on a virgin planet. Except what his compatriots call terraforming, he calls genocide, for the millions of indigenous Eaters that they are clearing out to make room for farms are, he claims, intelligent. To prove his point, he goes out among the aliens, dancing their way and his way, hoping to avert catastrophe.

But is any of it real? Or is it all a figment of his traumatized mind?

I just found it all a bit hollow and affected, and also confusing. Not bad, but nowhere near Silverbob's best.

Three stars.

Pull Devil, Pull Baker!, Michael Harrison

A Jewish dentist finds himself implacably hostile to an Aryan patient, and, to his dismay, finds himself wanting to cause him pain in the examination chair. Turns out the two have a history that goes back centuries to another life, when the drill was in the other hand, so to speak.

So unfolds an age-crossing riddle, at the end of which lies a treasure of untold riches, if only it can be deciphered.

I dug this one. Maybe I'm biased. Four stars.

The Landlocked Indian Ocean, L. Sprague de Camp

De Camp offers himself up as a sort of half-rate Willy Ley, explaining why, for so long, the Indian Ocean was conceived of as a big lake rather than part of the world sea. There's a lot of good information here, but it's not quite as compellingly presented as it could be.

Three stars.

A Short and Happy Life, Joanna Russ

Here's a great little prose-poem on ingenuity involving a barometer. Good stuff. Four stars.

A Run of Deuces, Jack Wodhams

Aboard a superluminary cruise ship, the bored passengers come up with a betting pool to relieve their ennui: the winner of the pot is whomever guesses at what distance from their destination the ship will pop out of hyperspace.

A lot of sex. A lot of languour. A predictable ending. A low three (or a high two, if you're not in a good mood).

Operation Changeling (Part 2 of 2), Poul Anderson

Last month, we were (re-)introduced to the Matuchek family: Steve the werewolf, Virginia the combat wizard, Valeria the moppet, and Svartalf the familiar. When Valeria was kidnapped by the agents of Hell, it was only a matter of time before her parents (and their cat!) would have to penetrate the perverse underworld to retrieve her.

Enlisting the aid of a pair of dead mathematical geniuses, in this installment, the trio warps into the infernal dimension, where they must face off against hordes of demons, baffling spatial topography, and the most evil of beings humanity has ever known.

There is good Anderson, there is boring Anderson, and there is middlin' Anderson. This story is firmly in the "good" camp, with vivid descriptions, engaging (and often funny) characters, and the sort of light, fantastic adventure we haven't seen from Anderson since Three Hearts and Three Lions. Poul does somber, dour, very well, so I think it's more work for him to keep things light—even as our heroes are arrayed against the forces of darkness! It's never frivolous, but there's a fey quality that keeps things on the right side of horrific.

And that episode in Hell! I've never read the like. My only regret is that it's not longer, with a little more time for the Matuchek squad to come up with their novel solutions so that the reader can better follow along. Perhaps it'll get expanded into a full length book at some point. I hope so!

Four stars for this installment and the book as a whole.

The Fateful Lightning, Isaac Asimov

A boffo piece on the discovery of electricity. It's good, although I found the explanation of how lightning rods actually work somewhat incomplete.

Four stars.

Repeat Business, Jon Lucas

A mom-and-pop boat charter take on a quartet of "travel agents" who are obviously (to the reader, at least) a bunch of aliens. The E-Ts are sussing out the charterers and their sailing vessel to see if they might be a hit back home on Sirius or Spica or wherever they're from.

It's not a badly written tale, but it's so obvious, and the protagonists so clueless, that it feels sub-par. Maybe this would have passed muster a couple of decades ago. Now it's old hat.

Two stars.

Back to Earth

And there you have it: big news in the skies and in the SFnal pages of F&SF. There's really no unpleasant reading at all in this month's mag, even if it isn't all novel or cutting edge, and the Anderson really ends with a bang—or a flash of brimstone, perhaps. Combined with the exciting space news, and the recent launch of Apollo 10 (article to come!) I am really feeling over the Moon.

If you read this month's issue, and watch the ongoing Apollo coverage, I'm sure you will be, too!

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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[May 12, 1969] The Students are Revolting (the wargame Up Against the Wall, Motherfucker)

May 12, 2024 Gideon Marcus Leave a comment

by Gideon Marcus

My crowd can't decide what to take this semester, but we've narrowed it down to the administration building and the library.

~Judy Carne on Laugh-In

Last Spring, students and Afro-Americans formed an uneasy alliance at Columbia University, taking over multiple buildings in pursuit of several disparate aims. Black students and denizens of the neighborhoods surrounding the campus fought against the school annexing public spaces (specifically, the building of the new Columbia gymnasium in Morningside Park). Other students rallied against Columbia's doing research for the defense department—essentially an inside raid against the Vietnam War.

After assembling to protest, radicals managed to seize five campus buildings, where they squatted for nearly a week before New York's finest, the boys in blue, dismantled the makeshift furniture barricades one by one and dragged the occupiers to the paddy wagons.

This did not end the struggle—thousands of students boycotted classes in May, and Columbia President Kirk resigned in June after giving in to pressure not to press charges against the protesters. Hundreds of students due to graduate that month held their own, unofficial commencement on Low Plaza, in front of the Low Library—scene of clashes in the early stages of the occupation.

Last June, the Columbia Sentinel published a game delightfully titled, Up Against the Wall, Motherfucker!, inspired by a phrase uttered more than once throughout the event, sometimes in official channels. One of the game's authors is Jim Dunnigan, who wargamers will recognize as the fellow who wrote Jutland for the wargame company, Avalon Hill. The other is "Jerry Avorn", a name that is unfamiliar to me.

The game is simple. There is a map that represents Columbia's campus. There are eleven tracks representing eleven communities associated with the school. There are two players: the administration (whose power points are called Level of Administrative Will or LAWs) and the protestors (theirs are called Ratio of Activism Determinants or RADs). Each turn, first the protestors get RADs to place on a track. If there are any LAWs there from last turn, they can choose to clash. A succesful confrontation moves the Position Unit Counter (PUC) one space toward the winner's side. Each space has a point value, and at the end of the game (after twelve turns), the value of the points under the PUCs is totaled—whomever has more wins the game.

The number of LAWs afforded the administration goes up every turn; the radicals get fewer as time goes on. In addition, each turn, a player draws a card from the provided deck, usually increasing the LAWs or RADs provided that turn. There are more cards favoring the administration than otherwise.

Each turn, either side may attempt a board-wide clash rather than fighting for individual tracks. At that point, the titular "Up Against the Wall, Motherfucker!" is exclaimed, and the pieces of both sides totaled. This is a strategic move…or a Hail Mary pass.

Interestingly, the odds of victory in a clash go up as a side gets superiority…up til 4-1. At 5-1, the attacker has a 1 in 6 chance of losing all LAWs/RADs engaged! Presumably, this represents a bad-press atrocity that hurts the cause.

Janice and I got a copy of this game from a friend on the East Coast. Even though things are calm at Columbia University (may they remain so!) the memory of last year's events are fresh enough that it still feels timely. So we headed out for our favorite local diner and set up the game to play.

For our first bout, I took the radicals. I was quickly crushed, both by bad luck and a lack of understanding how to play. We switched sides, and had much more of a game of it. Indeed, Janice played almost optimally.

There really is only one strategy for the radicals—it's the administration's game to lose—and it still depends a lot on luck. At the start of the game, the point total favors the protestors by three points. And the PUC only moves down the track in the event of a clash. So it is in the radical player's interest to plunk down unassailable (for the moment) forces in a few key buildings. Let the LAW(s) come to them.

Now, this war of attrition still favors the administration, but if the radical player is lucky (as Janice was), favorable cards early in the game can allow a declaration or two of "Up Against the Wall…", moving PUCs and decimating (perhaps eliminating) administration presence. The university still has the advantage, but it might come down to a couple of risky 2:1 attacks on the last turn—each has a 1 in 6 chance of backfiring.

As for the administration player, strategy is simple: build up a juggernaut at key places and strike when you hit 3:1. Simple as that. All you need is to shift two points to get the lead.

In the end, Up Against the Wall, Motherfucker is more of a logic puzzle than a game. Once you've solved it, replay value is low. Janice suggested a variant where PUCs move each turn, regardless of whether there is a clash or not, so long as a player ends one's turn with the only piece(s) on the track. This gives more incentive to spread out one's pieces rather than squatting.

Maybe. I think I've had it. But I enjoyed the process, and as an educational tool, I think it's pretty nifty. If you can get your hands on it, give it a spin…if only for the chance to utter those five immortal words…

By the way, friends of ours published an even better article on the game in CrimethInc, and we strongly recommend finding a copy—it even comes with a spruced up version of the game!

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[May 4, 1969] Navigating the Wasteland #3 (1966-69 in (good) television)

May 4, 2024 Gideon Marcus 8 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Well, I've waited too long to do one of these!

In 1961, I got myself a television. Not just any television—I went straight to a color set (an RCA), even as hardly anyone in the nation owned one. Heck, we still had stations that weren't broadcasting in color yet. I think NBC is the only one I can remember that touted its weekly day of color programming.

Anyway, I made up for lost time, watching a lot of (too much) television. I quickly came to agree with then-FCC commissioner Newton Minow's assessment of visual broadcast. He described it as "a vast wasteland."

Still, I found some worthy shows, and back in 1962, I put out a guide to the good shows on television at the time. In 1965, I came out with a sequel.

Why haven't I published a TV guide since? Well part of it is because we've given focus to individual shows. For instance, our Star Trek coverage has been very thorough. Janice wrote about The Green Hornet in 1967. Last year, our UK friends watched The Prisoner, which made a big splash when it hit American shores last summer. Also, Victoria Silverwolf covered the spy craze back in 1966, and that included a lot of TV shows, some of which are still on.

Nevertheless, as we head into the rerun season this year, it's a good time to look back on what's sprouted in the wasteland since our last update. After all, while some of the shows have since gone off the air, or are about to, you'll still get to catch them (often at more convenient times) in syndication.

Star Trek (1966-1969)

Obviously, this is the biggie. Star Trek was (well, there's one more episode to be aired, so technically "is") the first real science fiction series on television. Sure, there was kiddie fare before that, like Space Patrol (both the Corn Flakes-sponsored one and the puppet import from the UK) and Man in Space, not to mention (please don't mention) the profusion of Irwin Allen shows starting with Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea through Lost in Space to Time Tunnel and still going with Land of the Giants.

And yes, The Twilight Zone had SFnal episodes, and The Outer Limits was more explicitly sci-fi, but both shows were mostly inspired by the pulp era, the science fiction content primitive in the extreme.

Star Trek, for all its faults, derived from the science fiction of the '40s and '50s while spotlighting some of the social issues of today. The Enterprise essentially flew out of the pages of classic Astounding—which makes sense; Gene Roddenberry said as much to one of our friends at the 1966 Worldcon. We even had bonafide SF authors like Norman Spinrad, Robert Bloch, Jerome Bixby, Harlan Ellison, and Ted Sturgeon writing episodes…though the practice of soliciting pros quickly stopped when they began demanding too much money. Luckily, many of Trek's best episodes were written by newcomers. Indeed, one of the more gratifying things about the show has been that is has helped launch the careers of a number of women writers, Jean Lisette Aroeste and D.C. (Dorothy) Fontana being the names that immediately come to mind.

So even though the show is cruising toward a premature end of its five year mission, it is a must see when it inevitably gets rerun after this summer.

Mod Squad (1968-)

“One black, one white, one blonde”

If any show has heralded a sea change on the boob tube, it's Mod Squad. Cop shows have been a dime a dozen for a long time. Highway Patrol, 87th Precinct, Dragnet, Felony Squad, The F.B.I., Ironside, N.Y.P.D.—even Car 54, Where Are You? (admittedly, that one was a comedy). Indeed, shows about the police are starting to rival Westerns in terms of airtime dominance. Just this year, we got three of them: Hawaii Five-O, Adam 12, and the subject of this section.

But whereas the only distinguishing characteristic of the first one is its location (beautiful Hawai'i), and the second one is as bad as a patrol cop show from the makers of Dragnet and starring that program's worst guest actor could be, Mod Squad is Something Else.

Mod Squad is the story of three young adults, all with minor criminal rap sheets, all who decide to become undercover cops rather than do time. They quickly form a bond with each other and with their Captain, Adam Greer. Over the course of the season, they have busted narcotics rings, carjackers, helped nab corrupt cops, and otherwise proven their value to the force.

The difference? Heart. Mod Squad is oozing heart, with genuine chemistry amongst all the four leads. The cops in the other shows tend to be portrayed as benevolent(?) automatons. Pete, Julie, and Linc (and Adam) are human beings—compelling, vulnerable, admirable.

Beyond that, there's been a quantum leap in production. Everything in Mod Squad is on location, with mobile cameras and lots of action. Car chases, foot races, you name it. The show bursts with energy. Its lineage traces from the hip globetrotting of I, Spy and the philosophical earthiness and camaraderie of Route 66, and oft times, it surpasses both shows.

Watch it. Dig it. This one's going to be around a while, I predict.

The Monkees (1966-1968)

Debuting at the same time as Star Trek and on the same network, The Monkees flamed out more quickly. No surprise—comedy is hard to maintain, especially the kind of frenetic, innovative stuff you saw on that show. Beyond that, when you make a show about four charismatic musicians, you run the risk of said musicians actually having talent and wanting to do their own thing. No matter what the papers or the sneering cognoscenti say, The Monkees are all pretty talented people. After all, Peter Tork is an accomplished guitarist and folk singer, Mike Nesmith has penned a dozen hit songs (and not just for himself), and Micky and Davy are both decent performers as well as skilled actors.

It's no surprise that the show went off the rails, and then The Monkees demolished it entirely with their deconstructive movie, Head (not to mention their freak-out of a TV special: 33 1/3 Revolutions Per Monkee).

But if you get a chance to catch the show in rerun, it's worth it. It's genuinely funny, the musical interludes feature complete songs (get your tape deck ready!), the songs are excellent, and the foursome has magical chemistry. When they are a foursome—for some reason, Mike was on vacation for about a fifth of the episodes…

Laugh-In (1968-)

Speaking of successful comedy, it's hard to miss NBC's smashiest of smashes, the psychedelic, wild ride that is Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In. We've covered the show previously, so I won't go into too much detail. I will note that the program has evolved in the two years it's been on the air. This year, we got several new performers: Dave Madden, whose shtick is tossing confetti to signify he's having dirty thoughts; Chelsea Brown…The Black One (I hope they broaden her role next year); Alan Souse…The Homosexual (I hope they broaden his role next year).

It is impossible to understate the influence the show has had on pop culture. From "Here Come the Judge" to "Sock it To Me" to "Very Interesting", Laugh-In-isms are everywhere. On the last Bob Hope special, we counted three or four clear references to the show. Arte Johnson is doing Mustang commercials—in his Nazi persona (at least he's not shilling for Volkswagen). Half the cast guest starred (as themselves) on I Dream of Jeannie. Every week, you can see at least one of the team on some variety/talk show or another.

It is a very funny show, and hosts Dick and Dan have a natural rapport. Beyond that, the cast manage to come up with unique musical numbers every week, which is amazing. The women performers, in particular, are amazingly talented.

There are some warning signs: since Nixon got elected, perhaps with Laugh-In's help—Tricky Dick had a cameo earlier this year: "Sock it to me?" he exclaimed stiltedly—the show has tacked rightward in its commentary. In the last episode, the Reverend Billy Graham was the special guest, making rather unfunny jokes, and ending the show with a straightfaced endorsement of John 3:16. I'm not sure if Arte Johnson (in full Wehrmacht regalia) agreeing with the sentiment was intended to be ironic or not.

On the other hand, at least the show isn't as sexist as it used to be. The worst of that last season was when they had Cher Bono as a guest, and the musical number was about grasping wives. If anyone's the grasping wife in the Bono clan, it's Sonny.

Anyway, I don't need to tell you to watch it. You probably already are. Let's hope next season is even better.

Hollywood Palace (1964-)

When I was a very young, Vaudeville was king. Live song and dance—forget this radio and television jazz. Well, ABC's Hollywood Palace, put on in the building of the same name owned by none other than Bing Crosby, is the closest you'll get to the old Vaudeville days. Comedy, acrobatics, singing, magic…the works. All live (but taped).

Every week, there's a different host (Bing always claims the first and last nights for himself). Sometimes they're terrific, like the times Sammy Davis Jr. gets the job; sometimes we get Burl Ives. I'd say the show is pitched mainly at folks of my generation, maybe a touch older. The jokes, the guests, most were big a decade or two ago. That said, the Palace keeps things hip with acts like the Supremes and Gladys Knight. It's definitely not Lawrence Welk (for my parents), nor is it American Bandstand (for my kids).

Lorelei and I have been regular watchers of the show ever since we heard Tony Randall hosted it once. We're grateful it's had such longevity.

The Carol Burnett Show (1968-)

If you took Laugh-In and Hollywood Palace and shmushed them together, you'd get The Carol Burnett Show. Less frenetic than Laugh-In, but hipper than the Palace, it's a bit like if the latter show had just one host the whole time. Carol starts out each show with a question an answer segment that feels genuine and unrehearsed. The musical acts are a mix of looped and live performances. The skits range from domestic comedy to fractured fairy tales, utilizing the supporting cast of the prissy Harvey Korman, the hunky Lyle Waggoner, the adorable Vicki Lawrence (who usually plays Carol's sister; I'm amazed they aren't related), and whomever is guest this week.

It's a terrific show, and Carol is an excellent host. If I have any complaint, it's that the family skits play a little too hard into the marital discord bit. Also, as much as I love Ms. Burnett, eventually you can get too much of a good thing—week after week, skit after skit.

Still, definitely in the upper tiers of television!

That's Life (1968-1969)

Remember how I marveled that Laugh-In manages to produce a new musical number or two each week? Well That's Life tried to make a romantic sitcom that was a complete, hour-long musical on the same schedule!

Robert E. Morse (How to Succeed at Business Without Really Trying) and E.J. Peaker starred in a whirlwind tour of courtship, marriage, and family as they sang and danced through their lives. Each episode had a coterie of special guests (of course, our favorite was Tony Randall), and the whole thing was funny and fast-paced.

Well, you knew it couldn't last. After one season, it's gone. And having only gone on one season, it's likely we'll never see it in syndication. ¡Qué lastima!

Wild Kingdom (1963-)

One show that shows no sign of quitting is Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. Hosted by the Director Emeritus of the St. Louis Zoo, Marlin Perkins, this is quite simply the coolest nature program to be found. We get a new half-season at the beginning of every year. Marlin opens up each episode with a bit of in-studio discussion, often partnering with one of his fellow rangers (usually Jim, but occasionally Stan Brock, the South African mountain) and W.K., the chimpanzee.

Then it's off to the field: either a prerecorded feature narrated by someone else, or footage from a real safari that Marlin has gone on. Usually the latter involves tracking an endangered animal or rescuing some creature for scientific study. Marlin is no joke—at age 60+, you can still find him netting lions or sleep-darting elephants. Of course, Marlin doesn't hold a candle to Stan wrestling hippopotami or saving drowned calves.

I'm sure some of the editing is artfully done for drama, but it's still a great show, emphasizing the importance of preserving the natural abundance to be found in the Wild Kingdom.

Since this article is running long, I shan't bother listing the shows not worth watching. I won't even mention the C+ and B- television that I won't flip the idiot box off for, but which aren't worth seeking out. With just the shows I've recommended, you'll have plenty to watch out for!

Until next time… stay tuned in.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 26, 1969] Downbeat (May 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

April 26, 2024 Gideon Marcus 8 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Impending collapse

The end may be near for the nascent would-be-state of Biafra. For two years, the Nigerian breakaway has seen its land systematically (re)taken, and the eight million Biafrans, mostly Ibo people, have been crammed into ever small regions under Biafran control—just 3,000 out of an original 29,000 square miles.

Starvation rages, killing more than gunfire. Yet the Biafrans remain unbowed, converting diesel generators to run on crude petroleum, keeping churches open (at night, anyway), and getting food via threatened air strips.

But on the 22nd, the capital and last Biafran city, Umuahia, fell to Nigerian forces. Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, President of Biafra, has vowed he will continue the struggle in guerrilla fashion. Only Gabon, Haiti, Ivory Coast, Tanzania, and Zambia have recognized the secessionist state, although tacit assistance has been provided by such diverse states as France, Spain, Portugal, Norway, and Czechoslovakia.

At this point, it's hard to imagine the Biafran experiment succeeding. But surely there must be more that we can do apart from watch helplessly. I wish I knew what it was. Support the Red Cross, I suppose.

Impending mediocrity

I don't have a great segue from that bummer of a news item. All I have is the lastest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction. While it's not entirely unworthy (the opening serial is pretty good), the rest offers little respite from the bleakness of the real world:

by Jack Gaughan

Operation Changeling (Part 1 of 2), by Poul Anderson

Back in the '50s, Poul had a great series that took place on a parallel Earth. Its history was not dissimilar to ours, but wizardry replaces technology in many regards. It's a bit like Garrett's Lord D'Arcy series, but a touch sillier. The stars of the series are a magical duo comprising a werewolf and a magic-using dragoon Captain. In the latest story (a decade ago!) the two had gotten married. In the latest installment, Ginny and Steve are the proud parents of a beautiful little girl.

Unfortunately, Valeria Victrix has been born into a difficult time. Adherents of St. John, whose outwardly clement brand of Christianity hides disturbing cultist elements, are waging a war against authority and the military-industrial complex—including the defense contractor that employs Steve. The Johnnites are essentially stand-ins for the current peace movements, albeit more sinister.

The conflict with the less-than-civil resisters recedes in importance, however, when on her third birthday, Valeria is abducted by no less than the demonic forces of Hell. It is now up to Steve and Ginny to rescue their little girl before she is incurably corrupted…and to determine if the Johnnites are at all responsible!

Anderson has three main modes: crunchy, compelling science fiction; crunchy, dull-as-dirt science fiction; and lightish fantasy. This short novel, despite the dark subject matter, promises to be the most fun romp since Three Hearts and Three Lions.

Four stars so far.

The Beast of Mouryessa, by William C. Abeel

A French sculptor is commissioned to create a replica of an obscene, demonic figure, unearthed recently in the Avignon region. The original stone creature has a history of causing catastrophe to those who behold it, but the lovely matron who wants the copy seems unperturbed. Of course, the sculptor has all sorts of ill feelings and second thoughts, but he does nothing about them. In the end, he is possessed by the spirit of the thing, and awful stuff ensues.

Aside from all the sex and frequent references to the statue's enormous dong, this story is pretty old hat. Lovecraft did this kind of thing better.

Two stars.

by Gahan Wilson

London Melancholy, by M. John Harrison

A host of eerie mutants roam post-apocalyptic London in this absolutely impenetrable, unreadably purple piece.

One star.

For the Sake of Grace, by Suzette Haden Elgin

Thousands of years from now, Earth and its solar colonies have organized into a patriarchal, caste-based system. The Kadilh ban-Harihn has much cause for joy: four sons who have all passed the stringent test to become 4th degree members of the Poet caste. But he also has a hidden pain; his sister was one of the rare women to dare entry into the coveted ranks of the Poets. Her fate for failing was that of all women who fail—eternal solitary confinement.

'Unfair!' you cry? Well, at least it keeps women from trying such a foolhardy endeavor. Which is why it hits the Kadilh all the harder when he learns his youngest child, his only daughter, also has decided to try to be a Poet, a task of which she is most certainly incapable…

This is a scathing piece, a refreshing attack on sexism. I'd give it higher marks if it had included even one poem, given the theme, but I still quite liked it.

Four stars.

The Power of Progression, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor explains why our current rate of population growth cannot go on—even if we manage to get off planet, that just means the universe will be clogged with humanity within the millennium.

I appreciate the doomsaying sentiment, but there comes a point when exponents become specious, a masturbatory effort in mathematics.

Three stars.

Copstate, by Ron Goulart

I used to like the tales of Ben Jolson, lead agent of the shapechanging Chameleon Corps, but they've gotten pretty tired of late. This last entry is the least. Ben is tapped to infiltrate a tightly controlled security state to retrieve a revolutionary polemic.

Goulart is capable of writing funny, light, riproaring stuff, but this one is just a bust.

Two stars.

The Flower Kid Cashes In, by George Malko

Item two in the cavalcade of anti-utopian incomprehensibility. Per a conversation I recently had with David and Kris:

Me: Can anyone explain the last story in this month's F&SF to me?
David: Not really. Aging hippie survives after the Bomb falls and sort of commits suicide by staying true to his priniciples? I think it was too concerned with being literary to mean something or be about anything.
Kris: I am not even sure if it is trying to be literary so much as "with it". But either way it seems very hollow.

Your guess is as good as mine. At least it's short. Two stars.

The Body Count

Comparing the lastest F&SF to the Biafran tragedy is probably beyond the realm of good taste. I'll just note that 2.7 stars is an inauspicious sign. However, given that the first few issues of the year were significantly better, I don't think this lapse foretells a permanent downturn.

At least some things are salvageable. See you next month.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 8, 1969] Distractions (May 1969 Galaxy)

April 8, 2024 Gideon Marcus 1 Comment

by Gideon Marcus

Instant Classic

There are few expressions as irritating to me as the oxymoronic "Modern Classic"…but I have to admit that the shoe sometimes fits.

Mario Puzo's third novel, The Godfather, came out last month, and I can't put it down. It's not a small book—some 446 pages—but those pages turn like no one's business. It's the story of Vito Corleone, a Sicilian who arrives in the country around the turn of the Century and slowly, but inexorably, becomes crime boss of Manhattan.

The Mafia has had a particular allure of late. LIFE just had a long bit on the recent death of Vito Genovese and the current scramble to replace him as head of the Genovese family. For those who want a (seemingly accurate) introduction to the underworld of organized crime, The Godfather makes a terrific primer.

Bloody, pornographic, blunt, but also detailed and even, in its own way, scholarly, The Godfather is a book you can't put down.

Which is a problem when you're supposed to get through a stack of science fiction magazines every month. Indeed, how is a somewhat long-in-the-tooth, middle-of-the-road mag like Galaxy, especially this latest issue, supposed to compete?

by Vaughn Bodé

Little Blue Hawk, by Sydney J. Van Scyoc

Imagine an America generations from now, after eugenics has gone awry. After some initial promising results, a significant number of humans became dramatically mutated, with profound physical and mental variations accompanied by even more pronounced neuroses. Over time, these mutants have mingled with baseline humans, spreading their traits.

This is the story of Kert Tahn, a wingless hawk of a man, who bears a weighty set of obsessions and compulsions, as well as a dandy case of synesthesia: to him, words are crystalline, shattering into dust and leaving a pall over everything. An urban "Special Person", plucked as an infant from one of the rural Special Person-only communities, he harbors a strong urge to fly, which is why he takes up a job as a hover-disc pilot, ferrying customers out into the hinterlands now reserved for the genetically modified. "Little Blue Hawk" is a series of encounters with a variety of more-or-less insane individuals, and how each helps him on his road to self-discovery.

by Reese

There are elements I really liked in this story. Though the causes of neuroses are genetic, it is clear Van Scyoc is making a statement—and an aspirational prediction—as to how mental illnesses might be accommodated rather than simply cured…or its sufferers tucked away. All Special Persons have the constitutional right to have their compulsions respected, and they are listed on a prominent medallion each of them wears. Of course, this leads to a mixture of both care by and disdain from the "normal" population.

I also thought that a set of neurotic compulsions actually makes for a dandy thumbnail sketch of an alien race—a set of traits that make no sense but are nevertheless consistent,

The problem with this story is simply that it's kind of dull and doesn't do much. I found myself taking breaks every five pages or so. With the Puzo constantly emanating its bullet-drenched sirensong, it was slow going, indeed.

Two stars.

The Open Secrets, by Larry Eisenberg

A fellow accidentally enters into his timeshare terminal the password for the FBI's internal files. Now that he has access to all the country's secrets, he becomes both extremely powerful…and extremely marked.

Frivolous, but not terrible. Two stars.

Star Dream, by Terry Carr and Alexei Panshin

On the eve of the flight of the first starship Gaea, its builder finds out why he was fired just before its completion. The answer takes some of the sting from being ejected from the vessel's crew.

This old-fashioned tale is rather mawkish and probably would have served better as the backbone of a juvenile novel, but it's not poorly written.

Three stars.

Coloured Element, by William Carlson and Alice Laurance

A new measles vaccine is dumped willy-nilly into the water supply, not for its salutory benefits, but for a side effect—it turns everyone primary colors based on their blood type! Ham-handed social commentary is delivered in this rather slight piece.

Two stars.

Killerbot!, by Dean R. Koontz

The mindless, cybernetic monsters from Euro are on the rampage in Nortamer, and it's up to the local law enforcement to dispatch the latest killer. The new model has got a twist—human cunning. But when the monster is taken down, the revelation is enough to rock society.

What seems like a rather pointless exercise in violent adventure turns out to be (I think) a commentary on the recent rash of gun violence—from the murder of JFK to the Austin tower shootings. It's not a terrific piece, but I appreciate what it's trying to do.

Three stars.

For Your Information: Max Valier and the Rocket-Propelled Airplane, by Willy Ley

I was just giving a lecture on rocketry pioneers at the local university the other day, and Max Valier was one of the notables I mentioned. Of course, I assumed from the name that he was French. He was not. That fact, and many others, can be found in this fascinating piece by Willy Ley on a man most associated with the rocket car that killed him.

Four stars.

A Man Spekith, by Richard Wilson

by Peñuñuri

The last man on Earth is Edwards James McHenry—better known by his DJ monicker, Jabber McAbber. Well, he's not actually on Earth; right before the calamity that ripped the planet asunder, a Howard Hughes look-alike ensconced him in an orbital trailer with a broadcaster, a thousand gallons of bourbon, and a record collection. Unbenownst to him, Ed also has a mechanical sidekick called Marty, a computer with colloquial intelligence.

Thus, while Ed more-or-less drunkenly transmits an unending, lonely monologue to the universe, Marty provides a broadcast counterpoint, explaining the subtext and background to Ed's plight and thoughts.

It all reads like something Harlan Ellison might have put together, a little less dirtily, perhaps. Hip and readable. Four stars.

The Man Inside, by Bruce McAllister

A henpecked father has gone catatonic with stress, but a new technique may be able to interpret his internal monologue. The result is suitably tragic.

Pretty neat; perhaps the best thing Bruce has turned in so far, but it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Three stars.

And Now They Wake (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Laumer

by Jack Gaughan

At last, we reach the action-packed conclusion of this three-part serial. All the pieces are in motion: both Loki and 'Thor, immortal soldiers in an ages-long intergalactic war, who have been at each other's throats for 1200 years, are trudging through the rain for the runaway broadcast power facility on the Northeastern American seaboard.

As the Army tries and fails to bring the powerplant under control, the hurricane in the Atlantic intensifies. Meanwhile, we learn what the other unauthorized power-tapper is: none other than Loki's autonomous spaceship, Xix, which is charging its own batteries pending the unhatching of a terrible scheme. The climax of the novel is suitably climactic.

Laumer writes in two modes: satirical and deadly serious. And Now They Wake is firmly in the second camp, grim to the extreme. But it is also very human, very immediate, and, even with the graphic violence depicted, very engrossing. This is the closest I've seen Laumer come to Ted White's style, really engaging the senses such that you inhabit the bodies of the characters, but without an offputting degree of detail (even the gory bits are imaginative and non-repetitive.)

It's not a novel for the ages, and the tie-in to Norse mythology is a bit pat, but this is probably the best Laumer I've ever read, and the one piece that actually made me forget about The Godfather…for a few minutes, anyway.

Four stars.

Back to (un)reality

The first half of this month's Galaxy was certainly a slog, but at least the latter half kept my interest—if only I hadn't started from the end first! That's a bad habit I may have to overcome. I just like seeing the number of pages I have to read dwindle, and that gets easier to mark if you read in reverse order!

Anyway, the bottom line is that Pohl's mag will win no awards on the strength of this month's ish, but Puzo's book may very well. Pick up The Godfather right now…and maybe the Laumer when it's put into book form!

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[April 4, 1969] Hey, Mack! (April 1969 Analog)

April 4, 2024 Gideon Marcus 1 Comment

by Gideon Marcus

Mars ho!

Well, this is exciting! For the first time ever, two identical Mariner probes are on their way to an interstellar destination. On March 27, Mariner 7 blasted off for Mars, joining its sister, Mariner 6, which was launched last month.

Normally, twin probes are launched for redundancy, and it's a good thing. Venus-boundMariner 1 died when its booster exploded back in '62. Mars-bound Mariner 3 never hatched from its egg (the shroud of its Atlas-Agena rocket) back in 1964. Mariner 5, which went to Venus in 1967, was a solo mission (indeed, a spare Mariner of the 3/4 class).

But now we've got two Mariners winging their way to the Red Planet, which means we'll get twice the coverage and a redundant set of data, always a welcome occurrence for scientists! We'll have more on them when they pass by Mars in July.

Mack ho!

by Kelly Freas

Just as we have two Mariners dominating the head of this article, so we have science fictioneer Mack Reynolds dominating this latest issue of Analog science fiction. Under his own name, and under his pseudonym "Guy McCord", more than half of this issue is a Reynolds contribution. If you like the guy, you'll like the mag. If not…

The Five Way Secret Agent (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

by Kelly Freas

We once again return to the Reynolds' late 20th Century, where America languishes under the stratified People's Capitalism. This novel is also the second adventure of one of the last private detectives, Rex Bader (whose first job was just a couple of months ago. As with that freshman outing, Bader is offered a job that seems too good to be true, and he refuses, but no one else buys that he did.

In this case, the job was offered by the head of one of the world's biggest corporations. He wants Bader to go to cross the Iron Curtain to contact other corporation buffs so as to help take down the Meritocracy—the powers that be that have entrenched themselves in the highest levels of society.

The mob also contacts Bader, wanting him to be their double agent. Then the Defense Department gets involved. Finally, a group of latter-day Technocrats make their pitch. Presumably, the "fifth way" will be Rex Bader's own.

This book is typical Reynolds: the setting has been well established over the years, all the way back to the Joe Mauser, Mercenary days. There are historical dissertations woven in at every opportunity, mostly on early 20th Century political theory. The writing is serviceable, somewhat wry—a more grounded Keith Laumer.

What makes this particular piece stand out are the new wrinkles Reynolds introduces. First, this is the first time we've learned how elections work in this world: it's based on income—one vote for every dollar earned (investment income does not impart voting rights). Thus, the masses on "Negative Income Tax" have no franchise.

Reynolds continues to invent plausible future technology, too. My favorite is the pocket TV/phone/credit card/identity all citizens carry. A handy device, but also vulnerable to surveillance—which is done by computers which listen for key words; if they hear any, they alert a government agent.

So on the one hand, as far as quality of writing and enjoyment is concerned, I'd give this piece three stars. But I admire Reynolds for doing stuff few others do, so I'm actually awarding four.

Hey But No Presto, by Jack Wodhams

by Leo Summers

Folks are being snatched out of psionic teleportation booths as they try to go to Earth. They get sent to this backwater planetary resort where they are charged outrageous rates to stay in mediocre lodgings. They stay because the cost to go home is set even higher. An interstellar cop is sent to investigate.

This one-note tale is so padded, it could replace a warehouse of pillows. One star.

They're Trying to Tell Us Something (Part 2 of 2), by Thomas R. McDonough

Last month, Tom McDonough talked about pulsars—those rapidly beeping star-type objects—and did his darndest to convince us that they are artificial beacons operated by Little Green Men (LGM).

This second part is more of the same, though he actually does mention other possibilities, including the most fashionable one that they are rotating neutron stars. My problem with this segment is it is heavy on the layman's lingo and light on the showing of work. It all feels a bit fluffy. Also, he talks about how pulsars emit light bursts at twice the frequency as their radio bursts, and he makes it seem like that's mysterious. If the pulsar is really a rotating neutron star, then it makes sense for any emissions to be linked. Why we only get radio signals from one side, I don't understand off the top of my head, but I suspect anyone with a Bachelors in Physics could tell me.

Three stars.

Cultural Interference, by Walter L. Kleine

by Leo Summers

A couple of scientists begin an experiment with broadcast power. Coincidentally, a couple of extraterrestrial spaceships accidentally intercept and soak up the power, causing them to crash. Chaos ensues.

Wireless power seems to be the rage these days, figuring prominently in Keith Laumer's serial, And Now They Wake. This particular tale is overpadded and pointless.

Two stars.

Opportunist, by Guy McCord

by Kelly Freas

This is the third tale of Caledonia, a backwards planet probably in the same universe as his United Planets tales in which every world has its own uniquely evolved political and social structure. Caledonians all hail from a single crashed colony ship, and their culture is a mix of Scots and indigenous American, based on the few books that survived planetfall (shades of Star Trek's "A Piece of the Action".

In this installment, Caledonia has been largely subjugated by mining concerns from Sidon, and the native Caledonians must resort to guerrila tactics. John of the Hawks, Chief Raid Cacique of the Loch Confederation is captured by the Sidonians and offered a job in their civilian government. After being told the virtues of civilization and capitalism, he decides to hang up his claidheamhor and war bonnet and sell out.

I din't like it. Two stars.

Oh ho!

Well now, here is a case of science fiction definitely being less compelling than science. With the exception of the serial, this was a drab ish, barely scoring 2.7. This puts Analog under Fantasy and Science Fiction (3), IF (3.1), Galaxy (3.5), and New Worlds (3.6). Campbell's mag only beat out the usual losers: Fantastic (2.5), Famous #8 (1.8), and Famous #9 (2).

From eight mags, you could barely fill two big ones with the good stories this month, although part of the reason for that is Famous being so awful. Women produced just 7% of the new fiction stories this month.

I guess the moral is: read your newspapers and your Pohl (and UK) mags first. Pick up Analog only if you've finished the rest. Or if you really like Mack Reynolds…

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

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

March 20, 2024 Gideon Marcus 3 Comments

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.

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:

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.

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!

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction