Category Archives: Book

Science fiction and fantasy books

Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 14, 1967] Threat level: High (October Galactoscope)

Leave a comment


by Gideon Marcus

We've got a triple (maybe quadruple) play for you this morning.  Dig in and enjoy the bounty!

Fail-Safe, by Eugene Burdick and Arthur Wheeler

With so many new books coming out, it's not often that we at the Journey can devote inches to older titles.  However, the original Fail-Safe has been staring me in the face for the past four years, and when I finally picked it up, I found I couldn't put it down.  Morever, the events depicted in the book are supposed to take place in 1967, so what better year to review it?

If you've seen the movie, then you know the plot of the book: mechanical malfunction causes a flight of bombers, responding to a false threat, to head irretrievably on an atomic raid of Moscow.  Indeed, the movie is in many ways a shot-for-shot rendition of the print version.  The differences pertain to the medium: we get several mini-biographies of the main characters, including the translator, the war-monger, the self-loathing SAC General, the commander of the Omaha base.  There are also occasional, Marooned-style depictions of the technology involved, in lurid detail.

But the events are the same, the dialogue is largely the same, the agony is the same.  Fail-Safe is the story of breakdown–of huge computerized networks failing for the disruption of tiny components, of people failing when confronted with clashing instructions.  Despite the fundamental tragedy of the story, it is ultimately a hopeful book.  It says that people made this death trap we live in, and only people can get us out of it.  And thankfully, there are still good people left in the positions that matter.

Indeed, the main divergence between the book and movie is that the two national leaders involved are not generic statesmen but real people: Kennedy and Khruschev.  This is a little jarring given that neither outlasted the book's publication by very long.  However, it's also fundamental to the plot.  Burdick and Wheeler ascribe a basic competence and goodness to these particular national leaders, qualities that keep the world from exploding when all factors say it should.

Were the two "K"s given too much credit?  Are LBJ and Kosygin men we can trust to steer us clear from the edge of disaster?  Those are questions that can only be answered by biographers in the first instance, and in the moment for the second.  May summits like the recent one in Glassboro ensure the latter never needs answering.

Four stars.

The Invaders, by Keith Laumer

Have you seen The Invaders?  It's a dopey riff on The Fugitive, instead of Richard Kimball running from the law for a murder he didn't commit, at the same time tracking down the real killer, it's about an architect running from alien invaders, while he also plans a counterattack.

The Fugitive was, itself, a riff on Route 66, about two hunks Kerouac-ing across the country doing odd jobs trying to find themselves.  The Fugitive works because Kimball has a reason to keep moving, but, as a doctor, a moral obligation to help people wherever he goes.  There's a reason the show lasted four years.

The Invaders doesn't work for lots of reasons — being an architect doesn't fundamendally involve protagonist David Vincent in anything.  The aliens are laughably inept, betraying themselves with crooked pinky fingers, and yet Vincent can never really get anyone to believe him.

It's a dumb show.

So, of course it has a tie-in novel.  Keith Laumer probably wrote this one in his sleep and happily pocketed the $2000 royalty to pay for his next trip to London.  It is cliché-ridden and tired, a typical potboiler with a B-movie plot and science decades out of date.

It's still better than the show.

It's better because Laumer's Vincent discovers the aliens through canny investigation rather than stumbling on them at an old diner (tracking several seemingly unrelated factory production orders; once the widgets are assembled, they make a ray gun).  It's better because Laumer is a competent action writer.  It's better because the book is highly divergent from the show, only retaining the name of the hero, the plot of invasion (even the aliens are quite different — their high temperature gives them away), and the William Conrad-esque narration that precedes and succeeds the three vignettes included in this first volume.

Three stars.  Why not?

Belmont Double B50-779

The second Belmont Double, poor imitation of the Ace Double follows a similar format to the first: one old novella combined with a newly commissioned one.

Doomsman, by Harlan Ellison

These days, Harlan's name is associated with avante garde stuff, the cutting edge of the New Wave laden with emotion and impact.

Back in the late '50s, when he was cranking out material for the profusion of SF digests, Harlan's work was of more variable quality.  Doomsman originally came out in the last issue (October 1958) of Imagination as The Assassin, and it is lesser Ellison.

A hundred years from now, the Western Hemisphere is dominated by the AmeriState, a totalitarian regime that ascended in the ashes of an atomic war.  Power is maintained by an assassin's corps, of which one Juanito Montoya, abducted from the Pampas of Argentine in his early manhood, is a typical example.  He can kill in a thousand different ways, endure most any climate, and he lacks even the rudiments of empathy or civilization.

But in one way, he is different from his peers, for he comes to learn that he is the son of Don Eskalyo, a princeling who would topple the AmeriState.  Once in possession of this knowledge, he resolves to stop at nothing to meet Eskalyo and join his forces.  Except, of course, that's just what the AmeriState wants him to do…

Doomsman is a brutal, unpleasant story, rife with torture and grossness.  In particular, I could have done without the introduction of the lone female character, the nude and violated (but still desirable, of course!) imprisoned young woman who proves the linchpin to finding Eskalyo.  Not only did I find her character a sop to the more lewd readers, but though Ellison makes it clear that she endured three months of the worst tortures without cracking, she succumbs to Montoya's techniques immediately.  And we never learn what these techniques are.  Obviously, it's an author's trick to imply how effective and monstrous these methods are, but it just comes off as implausible and a cheat.

The one thing Doomsman's favor is it is never dull.  That's not enough.  2.5 stars.

Telepower, by Lee Hoffman

Lee Hoffman is a name I've heard a lot in the fanzines, but I've never met her because she lives in Chicago.  It's always a delight to see a fan turn into a (filthy) pro, and the main reason I picked up this Double is because of her byline.

Her book takes place in and around the post-atomic ruins of Cleveland, which have settled into a sort of medieval complacency, its inhabitants placid and staid.  The defense of the city is left to the soldiers, an almost robotic breed of human, who live outside the city walls.  The main threat to Cleveland isn't other men–it's waves upon waves of rats.  The story opens up with such an attack, and we are introduced to Beldone, one of the many anonymous drones in the ranks.

Beldone, unlike his companions, develops a spark of curiosity, of individuality.  This terrifies him since such is a sign of illness, and the remedy for illness is execution.  We quickly learn that this spark is externally created: inside the city dwells the beautiful, and bored, Illyna.  In a fit of ennui, she developed the embers of a psychic power, initially telepathic in nature but ultimately controlling.  Beldone was her first contact, and through him, she seeks to learn more about the world she inhabits–and to find a way to control it.

There's a lot of disturbing stuff in this novel.  Folks who are turned off by depictions of violence, depictions of rats, and/or depictions of telepathic mind control may wish to give this piece a miss.  It's also not a happy story, even when it is triumphant.  But it is an interesting, well-written one, and I look forward to more of Hoffman's work.

3.5 stars.



No comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 10, 1967] Jack the Ripper and Company (Dangerous Visions,Part One)

5 Comments


by Victoria Silverwolf

There's a new anthology of original science fiction and fantasy stories in bookstores this month. It's certain to be the topic of a lot of discussion among SF buffs, and maybe even some arguments.

It's also big; more than five hundred pages, and it'll set you back a whopping seven bucks. It's so big, in fact, that Galactic Journey is going to slice it into three pieces and discuss it in a trio of articles. (Why three? Because it's got thirty-three stories in it, and eleven articles would be silly.)

Let's dig into the first part of this mammoth collection and see if it's destined to be the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band of speculative fiction, or just another dud.

Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison


Wraparound cover art by the husband-and-wife team of Leo and Diane Dillon, who also provide an interior illustration for each story.

Before we get to the nitty-gritty of fiction, we've got no less than two forewords by Isaac Asimov and a lengthy introduction by the editor.

In The Second Revolution, the Good Doctor outlines the history of modern science fiction from Gernsback through Campbell, and into the New Wave. Astounding was the first revolution, you see, and now we're in the second one. That may be a little simplistic, but it gets the point across.

Harlan and I, on the other hand, is a personal essay about Asimov's relationship with the editor, ending with a teasing anecdote. Ellison adds a long footnote offering a different version of their first encounter.

More substantial is Thirty-Two Soothsayers, the editor's longwinded but endlessly entertaining and informative account of what this book is supposed to accomplish, and how it came to be. Ellison wanders all over the place in this piece, and it's a fun ride. In brief, the stories he chose are supposed to be both enjoyable and provocative, with new ideas that might not appear in the usual SF markets. We'll see.

(If you're wondering why thirty-two and not thirty-three, it's because one writer supplies two stories; but that's for another time.)

I should mention that each story comes with an introduction by the editor and an afterword by the author, except for the one case when those roles are reversed. You'll see what I mean in a while.

I'm going to do something a little different here. I'll rate the quality of each story with the usual one to five stars, but I'll also add an indication for how dangerous each one is. This will be determined by sexual content, violence, profanity, experimental narrative style, taboo subject matter, etc. GREEN = safe to proceed, YELLOW = caution indicated, RED = hazardous conditions.

Let's begin.

Evensong, by Lester del Rey

An unnamed character flees through the universe in an attempt to escape those who have overthrown his reign. To say anything else would give away the point of the story, which is an allegory.

Three stars. YELLOW for questioning the deeply held beliefs of some readers.

Flies, by Robert Silverberg

In a premise similar to his excellent novel Thorns, the author presents a severely injured astronaut who has been put back together by aliens. In this case, however, his body has been restored to normal, but his mind has been made more sensitive to the emotions of others. That doesn't work out well.

Silverberg has become a fine writer, one of the best now working. Like Thorns, this is an uncompromising look at human suffering.

Five stars. YELLOW for scenes of extreme cruelty.

The Day After the Day the Martians Came, by Frederik Pohl

Set in the very near future, this tale deals with humanity's reaction to the discovery of ugly, semi-intelligent lifeforms on the red planet. Mostly, people make nasty jokes about them. The intent of the story is to expose human prejudices, in a way that's about as subtle as a brick thrown through a window.

Three stars. YELLOW for dealing with a major social problem in the USA today.

Riders of the Purple Wage, by Philip Jose Farmer

This is, by far, the longest story in the book. It is also incredibly dense and fast-paced, so any attempt to describe the plot would be a miserable failure. That said, I'll just mention that it takes place in a very strange future, involves an artist and his tax-dodging ancestor, and contains a ton of wordplay. There are scenes of slapstick violence that are simultaneously hilarious and offensive. It's a wild rollercoaster ride, so keep your seatbelt tightly secured.

Five stars. RED for a Joycean narrative style and Rabelaisian humor.

The Malley System, by Miriam Allen deFord

In the future, the worst criminals receive a very unusual punishment. This is a grim story, that doesn't shy away from the horrors perpetuated by human monsters.

Three stars. YELLOW for violence.

A Toy for Juliette, by Robert Bloch

In a decadent future, a man uses the only time machine in existence to kidnap people from the past, in order to satisfy the whims of his sadistic granddaughter. He picks the wrong potential victim. This is a spine-chilling little science fiction horror story with a twist in its tail.

Three stars. YELLOW for sex, torture, and murder.

The Prowler in the City at the Edge of the World, by Harlan Ellison

This is a direct sequel to the previous story, with an introduction by Bloch and an afterword by Ellison. An infamous murderer finds himself in the far future, where the inhabitants enter his mind in order to enjoy his sensations as he kills.

Written in an experimental, almost cinematic style, this is an unrelenting look at the evil that lurks inside all of us. Not for weak stomachs.

Four stars. RED for explicit violence.

The Night That All Time Broke Out, by Brian W. Aldiss

People get so-called time gas supplied to their homes through pipes. It allows them to enjoy better times in the past. As with any form of technology, things can go wrong. This is a light comedy with a unique premise.

Three stars. GREEN for whimsy.

The Man Who Went to the Moon – Twice, by Howard Rodman

A young boy takes a trip to the Moon by holding on to a balloon, becoming a local celebrity. Many years later, as a very old man, his only claim to fame is not as valued as it once was. Reminiscent of Ray Bradbury, this is a gentle, quietly melancholy tale.

Three stars. GREEN for wistful nostalgia.

Faith of Our Fathers, by Philip K. Dick

The Communist East has won a hot war with the Capitalist West. The protagonist is a bureaucrat given the task to determine which of two term papers truly represents the Party line. Meanwhile, a seemingly harmless substance allows him to perceive what appear to be multiple and contradictory truths about the Mao-like Party leader.

That's a vague synopsis, because this is one of the author's stories in which you've never quite sure what is real and what is illusory. Ellison strongly hints that it was written under the influence of hallucinatory drugs. Be that as it may, it's a provocative and disturbing look at the possible nature of reality.

Four stars. YELLOW for politics, drug use, and existential terror.

The Jigsaw Man, by Larry Niven

A man is sentenced to death for his crime. His organs will be harvested for transplant. Through a series of unusual circumstances, he manages to escape from prison, but his troubles aren't over yet.

The full impact of this story doesn't hit the reader until the very end, when we find out the nature of the man's offense.  Other than that, it's an ordinary enough science fiction action/suspense story.

Three stars.  GREEN for futuristic adventure.

One Down, Two To Go

So far, this is a fine collection of stories, without a bad one in the bunch.  Sensitive readers might want to stay away from the more dangerous ones, but most mature SF fans will enjoy it.




</small

5 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, TV

[September 12, 1967] Heavens Above!  (The Fifteenth Pelican and The Flying Nun)

1 Comment


by Victoria Silverwolf

Birds of a Feather


Cover art by Arthur J. King.

The Fifteenth Pelican, by Tere Ríos

Tere Ríos is the name used by writer Marie Teresa Ríos on her books, such as An Angel Grows Up (1957), Brother Angel (1963), and the one under discussion, which came out last year. I haven't read those other two, but the titles suggest that they might have something to do with the author's Catholic faith, which is also reflected in her newest work. (Even the cover artist, who also supplies several interior illustrations, is a Catholic priest.)

The Fifteenth Pelican is a whimsical tale about Sister Bertrille, a nun newly arrived at a convent in Puerto Rico. The most notable thing about Sister Bertrille is that she is tiny; four foot ten and weighing only seventy-five pounds.

The nuns wear large hats that look like wings. Given the fact that Puerto Rico is very windy, you can probably already see where this is going.

While hanging laundry on the roof of the convent, a gust of wind lifts Sister Bertrille into the air. At night, she has what she thinks of as dreams of flying with a flock of fourteen pelicans. (Hence the title.) In fact, she is really soaring through the air with them.

During one of these nocturnal excursions, she lands at a hush-hush military base. Suspected of being a spy, Sister Bertrille has to prove that she just flew in by accident.

That's about all there is to this slim little book. There's some stuff about Sister Bertrille's work with the orphans at the convent, but that has nothing to do with the plot. It's made absolutely clear that Sister Bertrille's flight is not miraculous, but simply a matter of aerodynamics. We're told more than once that if lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag, the result is flight.

I, for one, don't believe that a strong wind is enough to allow a seventy-five pound woman to fly, even with the help of wings on her head. Nevertheless, I suppose the attempt at a rational explanation makes the book science fiction rather than fantasy.

Like Sister Bertrille herself, The Fifteenth Pelican is as light as a feather, a bit of fluff best described as cute. I suspect it would quickly be forgotten, were it not for the fact that some television executive got ahold of it, and thought it would make a good series.

Gidget Goes To San Juan

Actress Sally Field, not yet twenty-one years old, got her start while still a teenager in the title role of the television series Gidget. By my count, she's the fourth actress to play the part of the petite surfer girl, after Sandra Dee, Deborah Walley, and Cindy Carol. (Yes, I know too much about beach movies.)

The series lasted only one season, but it became something of a hit during summer reruns. Eager to provide their young star with a new situation comedy, the folks at Screen Gems came up with something. It wasn't called The Fifteenth Pelican.

Field plays the part of Sister Bertrille. We're still at the same fictional convent in San Juan, Puerto Rico. It's still really windy, and she still wears the big hat that looks like a pair of wings.

Field isn't quite as small as the character in the novel. She's about five foot two (but without eyes of blue) and is said to weigh ninety pounds. That makes her ability to soar in the wind even more unlikely, but that's television for you.

The pilot, which aired last Thursday, had a one-hour time slot. I think the show will normally be a half-hour series, which is typical for an American situation comedy. It was narrated by a new character, Sister Jacqueline, played by Marge Redmond. She recently appeared as a nun in the movie The Trouble With Angels, so I guess it's typecasting.

She's a friendly, down-to-earth type, who supplies wry commentary throughout the pilot. At her side is Sister Sixto, played by Shelley Morrison. She's a Puerto Rican nun who provides comedy in questionable taste with her mangling of English idioms.

Unlike the rather meek character in the book, the TV version of Sister Bertrille is a perky, outgoing, slightly rebellious sort. We're even told she spent time in jail for participating in a free speech protest.

She quickly tries to improve conditions for the young orphans at the convent by holding concerts and such. (This subjects the viewer to a cloyingly sweet song, which we'll suffer through twice. Believe me, it makes the saccharine songs in The Sound of Music sound like rock 'n' roll.)

This newfangled way of doing nun stuff earns the disapproval of the head of the convent, Reverend Mother Superior Placido, played by Madeleine Sherwood. She's a stern, old-fashioned type. Needless to say, she's not very happy about the fact that Sister Bertrille takes to the sky now and then.

As in the book, Sister Bertrille accidentally lands at a secured military base, and has to answer a lot of awkward questions. That's cleared up pretty quickly, leaving some military types befuddled.

More important is a subplot not found in the novel. Sister Bertrille keeps running into a new character, Carlos Ramirez, played by Alejandro Rey. He's a playboy who runs a discothèque/gambling den. Sister Bertrille first encounters him when she winds up on his yacht full of bikini-clad beauties, where Ramirez is busy trying to seduce one of them into spending the weekend with him.

This adds a tiny bit of sex appeal to an otherwise squeaky clean series. Given the fact that the Catholic Church provided technical advice for the pilot, I don't think we're going to see romantic tension between Sister Bertrille and the fun-loving bachelor.

Anyway, Ramirez owns a piece of land that the convent could use for a new school, but he doesn't want to donate it. When Sister Bertrille flies by his private airplane as he's on route to a weekend getaway with yet another gorgeous girlfriend, he thinks it's a religious vision and gives up the land.

The whole thing is very silly, of course. It takes the gentle whimsy of the book and turns it into broad comedy. Like many American sitcoms, it's ruined by an obnoxious laugh track. The hour-long pilot (forty-odd minutes without the commercials) really drags. Maybe it'll be more tolerable cut down to a half-hour (twenty-something minutes) next time.

Or you could turn off the television and listen to KGJ for all the hits, all the time!




1 Comment Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 10, 1967] Women's liberation! (September 1967 Galactoscope)

2 Comments

I have lamented for some time that we've been at a nadir of female participation in our peculiar genre.  If this month's clutch of books be any indication, that trend is finally reversing, to the benefit (for the most part) of all of us science fiction readers!


by Victoria Silverwolf

Wordplay

Two new science fiction novels arrived this month with one-word titles that don't show up in my dictionary. No doubt that's meant to intrigue the potential reader, and create the sense of strangeness associated with much SF. Let's take a look at them and see if we can figure out what the titles mean.

Restoree, by Anne McCaffrey


Anonymous cover art.

Sara is a very ordinary young woman, maybe a little less content with her life than most. She considers herself unattractive, and is particularly sensitive about her large nose. She runs off from an unhappy home to take a job in New York City.

While walking through Central Park one night (not a wise thing for an unaccompanied woman to do, I'd think) she is abducted and taken aboard an alien spacecraft. The opening of the novel is a chaos of strange and disturbing sensations, so we don't really figure this out for a while, but it becomes clear later.

In a way that isn't explained until late in the book, she winds up in a
new body. For some time, she's in a dazed, zombie-like condition, only slowly coming to full awareness. The good news is that she's beautiful, with golden skin and a perfect nose. The bad news is that she's enslaved as a sort of nursemaid to a fellow in a mindless state.

Eventually, she figures out that the fellow has been drugged into catatonia by the bad guys. She helps him return to normal by reducing the amount of drugged food he consumes. The two escape from the hospital/prison and a tale of palace intrigue and space opera adventure begins.

The plot gets pretty complicated, and there are lots of characters with odd names, so I got lost at times. (The drugged man's name is Harlan, by the way; a reference to one of the author's fellow writers? Anyway, he's got the only name I've ever seen before, other than the heroine's.)

Suffice to say that Sara is on another planet, although the inhabitants are completely human. Harlan is the Regent for the planet's young Warlord. The bad guys drugged him, faking it as insanity, in order to control the government in his place. Add in aliens that Harlan's people have been fighting for millennia and rival factions for the throne. A further complication is that Sara has to hide the fact that she's a restoree (there's that word!) or she is likely to be killed as an abomination.

Besides all this science fiction stuff, there are a lot of romance novel aspects to the book. The beautiful, virginal heroine and the dark, mysterious hero fall in love, finally consummating their passion in sex scenes that are far from explicit. I also found a fair amount of subtle humor in the novel, as if the author has her tongue firmly in her cheek. What the evil aliens do to the people they capture stirs in a bit of gruesome horror as well.

The characters, for the most part, are either all good or all bad. The only ambiguous one is the brilliant physician who gave Sara her new body, in the forbidden and universally reviled procedure that made her a restoree. (If he hadn't, she would just be dead.) He does seem to be genuinely concerned with healing the afflicted, but he also works with the bad guys.

Kind of a silly book, really, but mildly entertaining if you turn your brain off. It's the author's first published novel, so let's just say that she shows promise.

Two stars.

Croyd, by Ian Wallace


More anonymous cover art.

The explanation for the title is simple enough; Croyd is the hero's name. He has no other, as far as I can tell.

Croyd is some kind of agent for the galactic government. He is also a Van Vogtian superhuman, with a brain that allows him to do things like go back and forth in time. While waiting to hear the details of his latest assignment, he saves a lady in distress from an abusive man.

There's a lot more to the woman than he realizes. It seems that an alien from another galaxy, bent on conquering the inhabitants of the Milky Way, has her mind inside the woman's body. Next thing you know, her mind is inside Croyd's body, and his is inside the woman's.

The woman's mind is still inside her body as well, so she and Croyd share it as they track down the alien who stole Croyd's body. Meanwhile, a gang of beatnik terrorists are planning to send the asteroid Ceres crashing into Nereid, one of Neptune's moons, where there's a government base. The alien in Croyd's body has to deal with this, to convince people that she's really Croyd.

Things get really complicated. There are alien agents among the government staff, with the ability to hypnotize people into turning against humanity. There's another group of aliens that wants to destroy the entire Milky Way rather than conquer it. Both Croyd in the woman's body and the alien in Croyd's body have to fight their nefarious scheme. There's even a second Croyd mind that shows up inside his purloined body. This one is a stupid brute, intent only on animal pleasures.

With all this going on, and characters rushing back and forth in space and time, this is definitely a wild roller coaster ride. I didn't believe any of it for a second. If McCaffrey's book often has the feeling of a stereotypical woman's romance novel, with science fiction trappings, Wallace's frequently seems like a stereotypical men's adventure novel, with the same decorations.

Two stars.


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

With the New Wave such a strong force in British science fiction at the moment there is a real blurring of the boundaries of what is speculative and what is literary experimentation.

6 Covers: Squares of the City, Greybeard, The Assassination Weapon, The Magus, The Third Policeman, The Master and Margarita
Science fiction or experimental literature? Which is which?

If they had not come of Science fiction publishers and\or from science fiction authors would we consider Squares of the City, Greybeard or Ballard’s cut-up tales to be speculative? By the same token if Fowles’ Magus, O’Brien’s Third Policeman or Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita had been published as Ballantine Paperbacks from Cordwainer Smith or Daniel Keyes, would they be on the Hugo Ballot?

This leads into probably one of the most interesting edge cases of recent years, where the author says she had no intention of writing science fiction but it is hard for the SF community to see it as anything else:

Ice, by Anna Kavan

Cover of Ice by Anna Kavan

In contrast to some recent writers, Kavan’s move into the speculative realm is not as much of a leap. She has been writing since the twenties and her works have often made use of experimental and surrealist techniques, commonly looking at madness and incarceration.

As anyone who has read the stranger side of science fiction, such as Philip K. Dick, these kind of ideas are often played with in the speculative space. However, in this work it definitely feels like she walks over the 49th parallel into SFnal Canada.

In Ice we follow our unnamed protagonist (no one has names here) through a world where society is collapsing under the weight of a frozen disaster. Our narrator seems to be in pursuit of a young woman near the start but the full motivations remain obscure as, even though written in the first person, it is narrated in a very matter of fact style.

In many ways this reminded me of Ballard’s elemental apocalypses, where The Drowning World flooded the world and The Drought boiled it, this one has frozen it. And all involve the characters moving through the disaster riven Earth in a dream-like state, as we get to see insights into their state of mind.

However, where Ballard does more direct exploration of his inner-space, Kavan keeps everything very cold and clinical, written in sharp fragments such as this description of the aftermath of a rape:

Later in the day she did not move, gave no indication of life, lying exposed on the ruined bed as on a slab in a mortuary. Sheets and blankets spilled on to the floor, trailed over the edge of the dais. Her head hung over the edge of the bed in a slightly unnatural position, the neck slightly twisted in a way that suggested violence, the bright hair twisted into a sort of rope by his hands.

There is no mention of our narrator’s feelings on this, it is treated in a disassociated manner, as if he is outside the events being described. This in itself gives us insight, but predominantly by the absence of explanation than by the paucity of it.

Yet, it remains dreamlike in another way, for it follows through in a manner that feels coincidental and directionless. They move between scenes in a way that often led me to look back if I had missed anything. In addition there are regular hallucinations throughout, meaning that we have extra questions as to the reality of what we are seeing.

But I believe this is the point: we are meant to feel isolated and abstracted, just as the protagonist does. To see what we as the reader are appalled and terrified by this world, yet we see someone completely numb to it all as our guide.

I could take you through various sections but really it is one of those books you need to experience, to delve into the atmosphere and feelings (or rather lack thereof) in order to truly understand.

A very high four stars.


by Gideon Marcus

Bringing up the Rear

Ace Books, regular as clockwork, releases a monthly double dose of adventure in the form of the luridly composed Ace Doubles.  In the past, these bundled short novels had a reputation for being rather shallow and adventure-focused, while also being subject to the mercurial editorial whims required to ensure the stories fit in the prescribed lengths.  Over the last few years, however, these volumes have become some of my favorite sources of entertainment, and they've launched the careers of many a new and promising author.  This time around, we've got a veteran paired with a newcomer:

The Winds of Gath, by E.C. Tubb

Earl Dumarest awakens from cold sleep several days prior to his destination.  He is one of the fortunate ones: 15% of the interstellar travelers who take Low Passage on a starship never revive.  But Dumarest's luck ends there–instead of being dropped off at Broome, he must debark on the hell planet of Gath.  On that tidally locked world, the Low Passage travelers are trapped without sufficient funds to leave, exploited by the Resident Factor of Gath despite the efforts of the local enclave of the Church of Universal Brotherhood.

What fuels the economy of this blighted planet?  It is the winds that blow from the baked day side to the frozen night side.  As they whistle along twilight mountain ranges, they set up resonances in the human mind, facilitating all manner of hallucinations: some pleasant, some insanity-inducing.

This natural phenomenon is the least of Dumarest's troubles as he has been plopped down into a budding conflict between the Matriarchy of Kund, the cruel Prince of Emmered, and other miscellaneous galactic forces. Can he thread the needle before the looming tempest envelops them all?

Truth be told, I was not expecting much from E.C. Tubb, a writer who almost invariably merits three stars.  Even more so as the story reminded me strongly of Dune, with its sweeping setting, frequently shifting viewpoint, and its almost mythological character.  The problem, of course, is that Dune was also a three-star tale for me.

So I was quite surprised that this tale grabbed me by the throat and did not let go until I finished, quite soon after I started.  I think the main reason Tubb succeeds where Herbert does not is that Tubb can write!  There are few wasted words, and his prose is sensual and visceral (perhaps he overuses "blood-colored" a touch; crimson would do occasionally).  If Dumarest is a bit too superhuman, he is at least consistent in his abilities, and the limitations thereof.  And such a vividly drawn world–it is clear that Dumarest will have more adventures in the future.

Four stars

Crisis on Cheiron

Carl Race is a Federation junior ecologist brought into investigate an agricultural blight on Cheiron.  The garden-like world is home to a race of primitive but industrious centauroids working with the private enterprise Consolidated Enterprises (humorously abbreviated to "Con En").  There is concern that Con En caused the global catastrophe, which threatens the planet's legume and honey industries, potentially destroying the entire ecosystem.  Should Con En lose its contract to trade with the Cheironi, its rival, Trans-Galactic, will swoop in.

Very quickly, Carl, with the assistance of a human teacher, Marcy, and a precocious Cheironi teen, Nubi, determine not only that the blight is artificially caused, but that there is a nefarious conspiracy involved.  Much rushing around, near-miss assassinations, chase scenes, scientific explanations, and spelunking ensue.  Don't worry–it's got a happy ending.

Author Juanita Coulson is probably better known to the world as half of the editing team of Yandro, a prestigious fanzine that has garnered nearly a dozen Hugo nominations and one win.  This is her first foray into novel writing, and she's not nearly as polished as Tubb.  The first 20 pages are quite rough sledding, and probably could have been pared down to perhaps a page.  In fact, the whole first third is quite padded, and I have to wonder if this was an editorial decree to fill space (this particular Ace Double has very compressed pica, resulting in more words per page).  But I stuck with it, and ultimately I found the book to be decently enjoyable.  It feels pitched at a much younger audience, what was once called "juvenile" and is now coming to be termed as "young adult".  You will probably guess the phenomenon that is the culprit before it is described, but that's fine.  One should be able to solve a mystery from the clues provided.

I appreciate that Marcy is vital to the plot and Carl clearly finds her attractive, but no romance develops between the two leads.  The aborigines are depicted as equals to humans (with good and bad examples of the species), which I would expect as Coulson has been a strident civil rights booster since her college days in the early 1950s.

So, three stars, and congratulations Juanita!



2 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 14, 1967] She Does Everything For Me (Orbit 2 by Damon Knight)

Leave a comment


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

After a mammoth twenty-four-and-a-half-hour Parliamentary session (the longest in 16 years) the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Bill, more commonly called “The Abortion Act”, proceeded through its third reading before the summer recess. Meaning it will be going for final vote in the autumn.

This has been a change that has been long campaigned for and fiercely fought over. The existing law in the UK is over 100 years old and states:

Every woman, being with child, who, with intent to procure her own miscarriage… [or] of any woman, whether she be or be not with child, [by any] means whatsoever…shall be guilty of felony, and being convicted thereof shall be liable… to be kept in penal servitude for life

This extremely restrictive law allows only where a medical professional considers the mother’s life to be in immediate danger or a risk of severe mental and physical impairment.

This is a very high bar has forced numbers of women to be stuck between to choosing to keep unwanted and\or dangerous pregnancies to term, or make use of an illegal “backstreet abortion” which can also be hazardous, without trained medical professionals around

These have been featured as plots in many major works of fiction lately, such as Ken Loach’s adaptation of Neil Dunn’s Up The Junction or big screen hit Alfie.

Still from Alfie of pain from backstreet abortion
Still from Alfie of a relevant scene

There are many objectors to reform, with objections to the new law including claims it will give Doctor’s a carte-blanche to euthanize infants, women claiming rape later as a means to have promiscuous sex without birth control, a method for genocide of the disabled by the back door, and other extreme claims.

The most dramatic moment in the debate came where the Bill’s sponsor David Steel brought out a seven-week-old half-inch fetus and said:

To talk of this in terms of crying, wriggling or anything like that is quite misleading. This is what we are weighing against the life and welfare of the mother and her family.

This was a direct refutation of the claim of The Society for the Protection of Unborn Children where Prof. Donald claimed at their conference that, at 28 days:

You have a live baby and it kicks, and goes on kicking for a long time.

Whilst there have been some amendments made in The House of Lords which will have to be debated when the Bill returns to The Commons in October, it looks set for there to be an expansion of abortion available on the NHS coming. And I myself am very glad of this. It has been a long time coming and represents a real move towards a women’s rights.

Perhaps this spirit of change is in the air, for in the latest anthology I am reviewing Orbit 2, the best stories are about the treatment of women in societies past and yet to come:

Orbit 2

Orbit 2 Cover

The Doctor, by Ted Thomas

Dr. Gant takes part in a time-travel experiment and finds himself back in the stone age. There he attempts to continue his practice and medically help the early humans.

That is it. I came out of it saying “…and?” If there is some kind of moral in it, it is that savage people don’t appreciate modern science and don’t know what’s good for them.

A low two stars

Baby You Were Great!, by Kate Wilhelm

In the future a new kind of entertainment has been developed where you can feel the emotions of another. The most popular is A Day in the Life of Anne Beaumont, eight hours of programming where they get to experience wealthy actress Anne Beaumont’s life.

Anne wants to break the contract as she is sick of the contrived situations they put her in and has fallen in love. However, at this point what is real and what is fiction?

This quite a terrifying story about the development of television as people seek out more shocking entertainment in the style of Candid Camera. The scenes of rape auditions are particularly striking, but in a way that I am sure was intended. It makes very fascinating points and is one of the most interesting pieces in this collection.

I do have a bit of trouble imagining why anyone would want to experience the edited highlights of the life of a rich starlet, but then I also don’t understand why so many people tune in to Crossroads or Peyton Place each week, so maybe these future TV producers are on to something.

Four Stars

Fiddler’s Green, by Richard McKenna

In an unpublished story from the late author, a group of different people are stuck in a lifeboat adrift in the Ocean. To survive, Krueger gets them to believe in another world they can access, one they call Fiddler’s Green. At first it is just them there, but soon more people begin to enter.

The longest piece in the anthology and, my word, does it need editing! There are diversions, huge sections of extraneous detail and filled with the most horrendous stereotypes. The entire thing was a real struggle to get through. It feels like a cross between A Voyage to Arcturus and Farmer’s Riverworld tales, but considerably inferior to either.

One Star

Trip, Trap, by Gene Wolfe

This is a multiple narrative piece where we see events from different letters describing the events. On the one hand we get a fantastical narrative between Garth, son of Garth, and The Protector. On the other, a more scientific narrative between Dr. Finch and Professor Beaty, both chronicling the events on planet Carson III.

Honestly, like the two prior stories by Wolfe I have read, this one failed to work for me. An interesting idea that just seemed to be stretched beyond my interest. I was regularly checking how many pages I had left.

Two Stars

The Dimple in Draco, by Philip Latham

A strange object has appeared on a photographic plate at the Institute of Cosmological Physics. Its spectrum is unlike anything else seen, exhibiting a huge Red Shift. It is up to Bill and MacCready to work out what it is. However, there is also the small matter of organizing a party…

We are told in the introduction the author is an astronomer and it shows here, although not in a good way. Most of this is just people discussing in dull technical detail the observations they have made. But, for some reason, the story also includes points that seem intended for children, such as a footnote:

Stars do not have points sticking out of them. Stars are spherical.

Maybe it works for others but this, along with the regular disparaging comments about women, put me badly off this piece.

One Star (a spherical one)

I Gave Her Sack and Sherry, by Joanna Russ

The first of two adventures from Russ following the same character, the swashbuckling Alyx. Although we are only told her name at the end of this tale, I will use it instead of “she” for the sake of ease.

"Many years ago,” Alyx is a seventeen-year-old woman married to an abusive husband who expects obedience. Sick of the beatings she receives she cuts her hair, escapes and joins the ship of Captain Blackbeard.

This is predominantly setup, consisting of situations of men underestimating Alyx and her then defeating them for their trouble. However, as entertaining as this is on its own, there are many fascinating elements Russ employs to raise this tail up.

As I noted at the start Alyx isn’t given a name until the end of the story, before being referred to as she. This really reflects the nature of this tale, with her finding herself and going through a metamorphosis on this journey.

Russ also doesn’t make use of the common tactic of trying to suggesting age by writing this in an aged manner, such as cod-Shakespearean. It instead combines an ironic narrative voice with modern speech patterns. For example:

SHE: I wouldn’t do it if you were a —
(Here follows something very unpleasant)
HE: Woman go back with those pails. Someone is coming tonight.
SHE: Who?
HE: That’s not your business
SHE: Smugglers.
HE: Go!
SHE: Go to hell.
Perhaps he was somewhat afraid of his tough little wife. She watched him from the stairs or the doorway, always with unvarying hatred; that is what comes of marrying a wild hill girl without a proper education. Beatings made her sullen. She went to the water and back, dissecting every step of the way, separating blond hair from blond hair and cracking and sorting his long limbs. She loved that.

This is very different from what we would get from Howard or Leiber, pointing to something more contemporary. A new kind of tale rather than just attempts to recreate the works of the 30s and 40s.

Four Stars

The Adventuress, by Joanna Russ

This story takes place significantly later in Alyx’s life. When she was 23, she had gone down to the city of Orudh as part of a mission to convert people to the Hill God Yp. Alyx grew disillusioned with the religion quickly, so when the mission was chased out of Orudh by the authorities, she took up as a lockpick.

Seven years later, Alyx is employed by Lady Edarra to help her escape from Orudh. Whilst originally uncertain about taking on this role, the rewards convince her, even if Alyx is unsure due to how naïve and proper Edarra is.

This represents an older and more confident Alyx, one who is experienced in the world and now able to take charge of her own destiny. Yet it does not sacrifice the stylistic elements and clever touches that made the previous installment so enjoyable.

Five Stars

The Hole on the Corner, by R. A. Lafferty

Homer Hoose comes home to his wife, but she realizes he is not the person she knows as her husband, and he proceeds to eat her. Another Homer comes home and retrieves his wife from the version that just ate her. They then need to work out why there are two different versions of himself in the same house.

In case you cannot tell, this is a darkly comic tale. Your enjoyment of it will probably depend on how much you like Lafferty’s shtick as all his usual tricks are on display. Unfortunately, it does not work for me–one for his fans I imagine.

Two Stars

The Food Farm, by Kit Reed

Nelly likes eating and enjoys being fat. Her parents want a thin daughter. Both are willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they want.

This is a delicious take on our current thinness obsessed culture. It is full of great lines providing clever commentary on people’s attitudes such as:

Her mother used to like to take the children into hotels and casinos, wearing thin daughters like a garland of jewels.

Sublime work

Five Stars

Full Sun, by Brian W. Aldiss

In a The Machine Stops style future, machines have become incredibly advanced and now take care of all human needs. People only leave their home cities for either specific reasons or if they are “abnormal”. Balank travels out with a trundler to hunt werewolves that inhabit the countryside. But after meeting a strange Timber Officer, Balank begins to wonder if the machines are the real danger to humanity.

This is more traditional Aldiss in the mode of Hothouse rather than his recent Ballard-esque Charteris tales. But that is no bad thing, it is a science fiction fantasy blend with great style and concept that showcases why he is one of the best people writing today.

Four Stars

Whither The Future?

In my previous article I asked whether these kinds of anthologies are the new magazines. I would say that whilst I do not want the magazines to completely disappear, both these show the way forward.

Last month 9% of the magazine fiction was written by women. In these anthologies it is one third. They also manage to get in a balance of new writers, old hands, hard to obtain reprints and ongoing series.

True they lack the factual articles, but can TV not provide those through programmes like Horizon and Tomorrow’s World? And is the fan community not more enriched these days by conventions and fanzines than by the letter pages of Analog?

Whilst there may be some kinks still to work out, I say “Long Live the Paperback!”

Paperback covers of Orbit One New Writings in SF 9 and Pan Horror 8
Orbit, New Writings and Pan Horror, all out now in paperback!




No comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 12, 1967] Planetary Adventures (August 1967 Galactoscope)

1 Comment


by Gideon Marcus

Five against Arlane, by Tom Purdom

As you may know, I am a big fan of Tom Purdom.  He's a very nice fellow, and his first book, I Want the Stars, was a stand-out.  Thus, I was quite excited to see that the new Ace Double at the local bookstore featured my writer friend.

The first two chapters do not disappoint.  We are thrown into the action as Migel Lassamba (explicitly of African descent; no lily-white casts in Tom's books) holds up a rich man and his personal doctor.  His goal: to get an artificial heart for his companion and love, Anata.  Why doesn't he just get one for free from the government hospitals?  Because Migel, Anata, and three others are rebels whose goal is to topple Jammett, dictator of the planet Arlane.  Five against Arlane, you see?

Thus ensues a ever-widening conflict between the outnumbered but canny rebel troops and Jammett, who resorts to increasingly draconian methods to retain control.  His biggest ace in the hole is his ability to slap mind-control devices onto citizens.  These "controllees" are fully conscious, but their bodies belong to the dictator, obeying his every whim.  As Migel's cadre begins to turn the tide against Arlane's leader, the abuse of the controllees gets pretty grim.

There's a lot to like about this book.  Arlane is a nicely drawn world, mostly tidally locked so its days last forever and only the pole is inhabitable.  The descriptions of technology and society are largely timeless.  Purdom is excellent at conveying material that will not be dated in a decade.  As in Tom's other stories, we have intimations of free love and even polygamy/andry, and there is no real distinction between sex or race.

Sadly, where the book falls down is the execution.  After those exciting first chapters, the chess-like contest between the rebels and Jammett feels perfunctorily written, as if Tom had to get from A to C, and he wasn't particularly interested in writing B.  It almost reads like a chronicle of a homebrew wargame (ah, what a wargame this novel would make!) If I'd been the editor, I'd have sent it back and asked for…more.  More emotion.  More characterization.  More reason to feel invested.  And a more fleshed out ending (but perhaps that was a fault of the editing, not the writing).

I noted that the weakest parts of I Want the Stars and Tom's latest short story, Reduction in Arms, were the curiously detached combat scenes.  Where Tom excels is the thinky bits.  I suggest he either work harder on the fighting pits, or stick to thinky bit stories (like his excellent Courting Time).

Three stars.

Lord of the Green Planet, by Emil Petaja

Emil Petaja is a new writer perhaps best known for his science fiction sagas based on the Karevala, the Finnish body of mythological work.  Now, Petaja plumbs Irish myth for this truly strange, but also rather conventional science fantasy.

Diarmid Patrick O'Dowd (a fine Jewish name) is a scout captain for X-Plor, Magellanic Division.  His flights of exploration frequently take him close to a mysterious, green-shrouded object.  Finally unable to resist, he becomes the first of his corps to pierce the viridian veil.  His ship crashes and disintegrates, leaving him stranded in a Celtic nightmare.  On one side, the towers of the islands, inhabited by Irish lords whose beautiful works are created on the backs and tears of countless generations of peasants.  On the other, the fetid swamps of the Snae–froglike magicians who seem to predate the human colonists.  And up in the tower of T'yeer-Na-N-Oge resides the Deel, Himself, who rules over the world with a song whose lyrics none can deviate from, enforced by a panoply of beasts, flying, swimming, and creeping.

Of course, there is a personal element as well.  The beautiful but utterly rotten-hearted Lord Flann plans to unite the islands and lead a crusade against the Nords.  But first, he would marry his fair and kind cousin, Fianna.  Fianna, on the other hand, has other designs.  After rescuing Diarmid upon his arrival, she falls for the fellow, teaches him swordplay, and helps him fulfill his geassa to save the planet from the domination of the Deel.  Along the way, there is plenty of swashbuckling, mellifluously articulate sentences, weird foes, and a twist.

It's pure fantasy, more akin to Three Hearts and Three Lions than anything else.  But it's fun.  And it has warcat steeds (Purdom's book has watchcats–I guess oversized felines are in this year).

Three and a half stars — and I'll wager Cora and/or Kris would give it four.

Triads


by Victoria Silverwolf

Two new science fiction novels deal with the relationships among three characters. As we'll see, in one of these the trio is very intimately connected. First of all, however, let's take a look at the latest book from an author known for prolificity.

Thorns, by Robert Silverberg


Cover art by Robert Foster.

The novel begins and ends with the same words, spoken by two very different characters and having different implications.

Pain is instructive.

In this way, the author announces his theme from the very start. Thorns is all about suffering. Physical pain, to some extent, but, more importantly, emotional pain.

Duncan Chalk is a grotesquely obese, incredibly rich man who controls just about all forms of entertainment throughout the solar system. Secretly, he is also a kind of psychic vampire, feeding off the misery of others.

Minner Burris is a space explorer who, against his will, was surgically transformed by aliens. His two companions died during the procedure and he barely survived, monstrously changed outside and in. As a result, he is a loner, seen as a freak by other people.

Lona Kelvin is a teenage girl who had a large number of her ova removed and fertilized outside her body. The resulting babies were developed inside other women, or in artificial wombs. Although her physical appearance remains unchanged, the resulting publicity made her as much of an outsider as Minner.

Duncan's plan is to bring these two miserable people together, both as a form of voyeuristic entertainment for an audience of millions and to feed on their suffering. To win their cooperation, he promises to give Minner a new body and to allow Lona to raise two of the infants produced from her eggs as her own children.

At first, the pair simply share their mutual pain, sympathizing with each other. As Duncan sends them on a luxurious vacation to all the pleasure spots in the solar system, they become lovers. As he predicted, however, their differences soon lead to ferocious arguments. Minner sees Lona as an ignorant child, and Lona comes to hate Minner's bitterness and anger. Can they escape from Duncan's scheme, and find some kind of peace?

Reading this book is an intense, almost overpowering experience. It is the most uncompromising work of science fiction dealing with human suffering since Harlan Ellison's story Paingod. Although set in a semi-utopian future, the settings — a cactus garden, Antarctica, the Moon, Saturn's satellite Titan — are almost all stark and bleak. There are other characters I have not mentioned — an idiot savant, abused by his family; the widow of one of Minner's fellow astronauts, obsessed with him in a masochistic way — who offer more examples of the varieties of pain.

In addition to offering a vividly described, detailed future, Silverberg writes in a highly polished style, full of metaphors and literary allusions. I believe this is his finest work since the outstanding story To See the Invisible Man. With this novel, and his highly praised novella Hawksbill Station, I think we're seeing a new Silverberg, adding greater sophistication and more serious themes to his inarguable ability to produce an unending stream of fiction.

Five stars.

The Werewolf Principle, by Clifford D. Simak


Cover art by Richard Powers.

Andrew Blake is a man with a problem. First of all, that's not even his real name. He picked it at random.

You see, Andrew (as we'll call him in this review) was discovered in deep space, after having been in suspended animation for a couple of centuries. He has no memory of his past, although he is familiar with Earth the way it was two hundred years ago.

In order to discuss this novel at all, I need to talk about something that the author reveals about one-third of the way into the book. I don't think that gives too much away, but if you'd rather dive into it without knowing anything about the plot you should stop reading here.

Still with me? Good.

Andrew is actually an android, an artificially grown human being with a mind taken from another person. He was designed to copy the mental and physical forms of aliens he encountered while exploring other star systems. The idea is that he would record this information, then revert to his previous condition. It didn't quite work out that way.

Andrew shares his mind with two other beings. One is a wolf-like alien, although it has arms that allow it to carry things and manipulate objects. The other is a sort of biological computer, a relentlessly logical entity that often takes the form of a pyramid.

Andrew's body changes shape, depending on which mind has control. After a brief period of confusion, during which these alterations happen at random, Andrew recovers some of his memory. The three minds and bodies work together, evading the folks who think he's some kind of monster.

There's a lot more to this book than the basic plot. Simak throws in a lot of futuristic details. Notable among these are talking, flying houses, and aliens who are essentially the same as the brownies of folklore.

Not all of these concepts mesh together smoothly, although they provide proof of a great deal of imagination. The overly solicitous robot house offers some comic relief, and the so-called brownies may seem too whimsical for some readers. Otherwise, the novel is quite serious, even offering a mystical vision of the unity of all life in the universe.

My major complaint is a plot twist late in the book, revealing the true nature of a character I haven't even mentioned. It comes out of nowhere, depends on a wild coincidence, and creates an artificial happy ending.

Despite these serious reservations, I actually liked the novel quite a bit. It's not a classic, but it's well worth reading.

Three and one-half stars.




</small

1 Comment Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 10, 1967] Badger Books: A Farewell and an Introduction

5 Comments


by Fiona Moore

The great British pulp imprint Badger Books ceased trading earlier this year. This is a mixed blessing, but nevertheless a significant event. So it seems like a good time to provide a brief introduction for people who, like me, have a taste for schlocky and pulpy science fiction. Stuff which can make you wince and laugh by turns, but which has its heart, broadly speaking, in the right place.

This is what we're losing.

Badger Books was an imprint of publisher John Spencer and Co., which started off publishing pulp magazines in a variety of genres including SF, but branched out in the 1950s to publishing pulp novels. Badger Books are cheap as chips; they have no copyright pages, and they do have two to three pages of advertisements salted through the text, usually for items like good luck charms, muscle building systems or creams that magically affect your body in some way (cheekily, bust enhancement and reduction creams are usually advertised on the same page).

Badger’s output covers all popular genres, but the two lines most of interest to Galactic Journey readers are the science fiction and paranormal ranges, which are almost entirely written by a single person under a variety of pseudonyms. That person is Lionel Fanthorpe, schoolteacher, mystic and general eccentric, also known as Pel Torro, Leo Brett, Bron Fane, Robert Lionel Fanhope, Mel Jay, Marston Johns, Victor La Salle, Oben Lerteth, Robert Lionel, John E. Muller, Elton T. Neef(e), Phil Nobel, Peter O'Flinn, Peter O'Flynn, John Raymond, Lionel Roberts, Rene Rolant, Deutero Spartacus, Trebor Thorpe, and Karl Ziegfreid.

Even Mr Fanthorpe isn't always sure who he is

Fanthorpe has written as many as 250 books, by some estimates, for Badger between the early 1950s and 1967 (though some credible sources indicate his wife deserves some of the credit). Exact numbers are hard to tell, because other writers share the same pseudonyms, but he is estimated to have written one 158-page book every twelve days at the height of his productivity. Another reported detail is that the books are generated by the publisher sending Fanthorpe a copy of some cover art and asking him to write a story based on the images: sometimes, also, these images come from previously-published Ace or Avon books.

Knowledgeable readers may be able to identify the source.

Sometimes these inspirations make more sense than others: Exit Humanity, for instance, is based on the cover of John Brunner’s The World Swappers, which depicts a crowd of humans going into a giant spaceship; Fanthorpe’s story involves a race of aliens deceiving humanity into thinking that the sun is about to go nova, and enticing them into what the humans think is a rescue ship that will take them to a new home. Sometimes the connection is more opaque: Space Trap, a story where two alien spaceships crash-land in medieval China, for instance, has a cover featuring a caveman and a man in an iron lung.

Yes, this really says "medieval China" to me too.

Reportedly Fanthorpe dictates his stories onto tape and sends them out to be typed, though this only partly explains the lackadaisical nature of his work. Character names change from page to page; subplots are abandoned or introduced depending on the needs of the word count; books change focus and plot without warning. World of Tomorrow, for instance, which opens with a pitched space battle, goes on to have the Earth stricken with plague courtesy of a misfired missile from the space battle, and then shifts to the story of an Earth astronaut who comes aboard one of the space ships and has to find his way back. The titles are often only tangentially related to the story inside the covers.

Don't expect it to make sense.

Ethnic stereotypes regrettably abound. For instance, there are the long, painful sections of Exit Humanity which feature a stereotypical Englishman, Irishman, Welshman and Scotsman musing in embarrassing dialect about the abandonment of the Earth by humanity. Arguably even worse is the homicidally excitable Chinese scientist in World of Tomorrow (named, I am very sorry to report, Hi Mi Fun), and the frequent use of the word “yellow” to describe East Asian characters in Space Trap. Asteroid Man features a Barsoom-like society divided into Black, Red, Green and White members, but the essentialism by which these are described is a little too reminiscent of the less enlightened literature of our time.

And yes, Fang Guy really *is* in the story.

However, Fanthorpe is not your typical dreadful pulp writer. He is also literate, imaginative, possessed of a distinct sense of morality, and seemingly determined to have fun. There’s a lot to like in Space Trap, for instance: two sets of combatants from a galactic war between a species that look more or less like humans and a tiny insect species are stranded in medieval China. The first one deceives a local peasant boy, one Aladdin, into trying to retrieve the spaceship of the second, which looks surprisingly like an oil lamp, and whose denizens are able to win Aladdin over by seemingly doing miracles. Familiar hijinks ensue.

In Micro Infinity, a story about the human race encountering an intelligent species of bacteria with a gestalt mind, all the characters are based on ones from The Canterbury Tales, and the reader can have great fun spotting the references. At an exciting point in The In-World, Fanthorpe ratchets up the tension with, erm, a historical geography of the city of Amsterdam. For the fans, he’ll throw in mentions of the likes of Quatermass and the Pit when you least expect it. Fanthorpe will also work ideas from paranormal research even into his SF novels, for instance in Exit Humanity, where a plot point revolves around the Fortean idea that humans are naturally telekinetic.

The stories can also have a strong, and generally positive, moral streak. Despite the lurid Orientalism of the cover of The Face of Fear, for instance, the story itself features an ecumenical and diverse group of paranormal researchers—- including a Church of England vicar, an Irish Catholic priest, a Buddhist, an implied-to-be-Jewish woman secretary and a Black boxer—- coming together to defeat a villain who is not, in fact, Oriental, but faking his identity. The good aliens in The Space Trap briefly provide a lecture on the evils of slavery and advise Aladdin to purchase slaves in order to free them. In World of Tomorrow, only smokers are affected by the alien plague, and humanity can be saved by people giving up that filthy habit.

He's a fake fakir.

On the one hand, a lot of these stories would be improved with an editor, or two, or three. On the other hand, part of what makes Fanthorpe’s work so irresistible is its spontaneity, its sense of someone throwing down words in a way that gives them pleasure, sharing jokes with readers in the know, not caring if it makes sense in the final analysis. For all their awfulness, Badger Books will definitely be missed.

Postscript: The copy of World of Tomorrow which I purchased from Porcupine Books arrived with an advertisement for family planning services tucked into the pages. Perhaps Fanthorpe readers really do have more fun?

Yes, this really happened.



5 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 6, 1967] A Dark Future (The Devil His Due by Douglas Hill)

2 Comments


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

“Are paperbacks the magazines of the future?”

This was apparently the subject of a panel at Balticon earlier this year. It is an interesting question. On the positive side we have noted the strong average quality of the new anthologies with New Writings being the “Best Magazine” in the Galactic Stars of 1965 and Orbit taking it for 1966.

At the same time, the amount of space for original fiction in the magazines is dropping. In May 1965, around 50 fiction pieces in total were published by SF magazines, in May this year it was down to around half of that.

On the flip side, there are still only a small number of original anthologies in the market, and they rarely get the big names in them. One of the reasons for this was highlighted in Australian Science Fiction Review:

Australia Science Fiction Review extract which notes that stories are impounded for 2 years before being able to reprinted if first published in New Writings

Until carve outs are more regularly drawn, you are unlikely to get more people signed up.

Harlan Ellison has a new anthology coming out with some big names attached to it. Did he get carve outs? Was he able to give them bigger royalty cheques than usual? Or just his usual manner of badgering people until he gets what he wants?

But before then there are two that I want to address this month that may help answer this question. The first is the content of this item, Douglas Hill’s The Devil His Due:

Devil His Due

In contrast to Ziff Davis magazines, most of the reprints are at the front. However, only one of these we have covered before:

A Long Spoon by John Wyndham

Cover for Suspense

This is a story by the famed author we have not covered before, due to it appearing in the thriller and mystery magazine Suspense in 1960.

In this silly take on the Faustus myth, Stephen is doing some tape editing when he accidentally summons the demon Batruel. Stephen doesn’t want to make a deal but, not knowing the words to dismiss his visitor, he is stuck with him in his house.

A very fun little tale with a touch of Oscar Wilde about it and a great sting at the end. Also, it is notable for never actually using demonic terms, only referring to this obliquely.

Four Stars

The Shrine of Temptation by Judith Merril

Cover for Fantastic

This is one we have covered twice before, in both Fantastic and Impulse, so I will not spend too long on it.

I will just say I agree with both my esteemed colleagues on this piece. Merril has written some brilliant works of SFF and this is one of them. It is literary without being confusing and liable to appeal to even those outside of the science fictional sphere.

Four Stars

Samuel F. Maynard and Anthropologic Demonography by Ramsey Wood

A brand-new writer making his debut here (take note Mr. Carnell).

In this vignette one Samuel F. Maynard is attempting to develop a classification system for demons. In an interview with a demon who is in possession of a human, he learns that they find his classification insulting. Should he worry about revenge?

The inexperience of the writer shows here. It is a very simple story with an attempt to raise it up through the form. However, it ends up feeling more heavy-handed and contrived than anything else. Still, there are definitely some signs of promise, I will look forward to Ramsey’s next piece.

Two Stars

Return Visit by E. C. Tubb

The oldest of these tales comes from 1958’s Science Fantasy (long before we began covering it) and has not been reprinted since.

In another Fasutian tale, scientist Cris Neville summons a demon, determined to discover the science behind them and make a bargain. But are they really as powerful as the legends suggest?

E. C. Tubb is the king of competence. An incredibly prolific author who has probably managed to produce more three star stories than anyone else. Not that this is something to sniff at but, ask me to tell you what happened in any of them, and I would be hard pushed to recall.

This follows that trend. It is reasonable, well-told and has a solid beginning, middle and end. But it is stretched a bit too long and suffers in comparison to Wyndham’s opening piece.

Three Stars

The Eastern Windows by Keith Roberts

What would be a British publication be without a new Keith Roberts tale?

After a near miss with a bus, Alan goes to a party. There he meets Oliver, who was also nearly involved in a traffic accident, and Eileen, who has recently tried to kill herself. The party continues to fill up with people they do not know but who have all had close calls with death. Can you possibly guess what is going on?

I am on record as not being a particular fan of Mr. Roberts' writing, nor do I enjoy his apparent current obsession with cars (there is lots of mechanical talk on them in here). But even ignoring that I find it hard to find much of anything to like in this stretched out tale of one of the hoariest old scenarios of horror.

One Star

Devil of a Drummer by Hilary Bailey

Always good to see more from this all too infrequent contributor to the British SF scene. This piece starts off with our narrator witnessing a man who falls off his bicycle and then threatens the delivery driver for money, in spite of not being injured. After he returns home, he discovers (via his daughters’ copy of Melody Maker) the cyclist was successful pop musician and club owner, Red Kynaston.

The plot thickens when the narrator is called in to help at a murder scene. Within the ritual devastation Kynaston’s music is playing and “Kynaston” was one of the victim's last words. Before the inquest Kynaston threatens to curse our narrator. Afterwards the narrator finds himself unable to speak and his daughter begins acting strangely. So a battle begins between the two of them…

On the positive side, she does a great job of portraying contemporary London in its diversity and modern parenting, when so many writers still feel make you like it’s the 1930s and everyone is stuffed to the brim with tweed. It also remains engaging throughout, reminding me of the best examples of Hammer Horror films.

On the negative side, the attempts to include the West Indian community still fall into stereotypes about magic, superstition and cowardice that regularly pop up and really need to go away. It also, at times, felt like I was watching one of those silly teen rebellion films that are regularly released (and I will go see if I fancy a cheap laugh).

Film Posters for "Beat Girl, "The Party's Over" and "Teenage Bad Girl"
Just a few of the numerous teen rebellion films that have been released since the mid-50s

Overall I liked it, but there is room for improvement. Three Stars

The Atheist’s Bargain by John Sladek and Thomas M. Disch

Two of the leading lights of the New Wave have another go at collaboration, this one being more successful than their last effort.

Mr. Godwin’s wife Lottie has died and he is beside himself with grief. When a man comes to offer him a package of anything he wants in exchange for his immortal soul, in spite of being an atheist, he accepts. Lottie, on the other hand was a devout Christian and is not all too keen on being brought back in this manner.

A simple story but well written in the lyrical but accessible style I have come to accept from Disch and with a wonderfully haunting ending.

A High Three Stars

The Singing Citadel by Michael Moorcock

Fantastic Swordsmen Cover

Whilst this has a 1963 copyright date, I do not believe it was published until a couple of months ago, in de Camp’s anthology The Fantastic Swordsmen (all the other stories within are old tales so we elected not to cover it at the Journey).

This continues the tales of albino Swordsman Elric, whose last new adventure was back in 1964. After a brief reintroduction to the character and the setting we join him and his companion Moonglum in the midst of a sea-battle. After they quickly dispatch their opponents, a message comes to Elric for help from Queen Yishana. In her kingdom Chaos has arrived and they discover the citadel of a disgraced servant of the Lords of Chaos, Balo the Jester.

I had thought Elric’s adventures had ended and Mr. Moorcock would be too busy putting together the new versions of New Worlds to put out any more of these tales, but I am very glad to have them. This represents among the better works of the series.

Firstly, it spends a lot of time with the characters, carefully considering their different motivations and the consequences of their choices. As such it feels real and understandable. This then nicely contrasts with the strange imaginative worlds we get within the titular citadel and the bizarre battles among these supernatural entities beyond our understanding.

This appears to be earlier than many of his tales, surprised by the presence of Chaos on Earth and loath to do war against them. It seems to make real considerations for this with Elric feeling guilt and conflict over past events and despairing of the choices to come. A stark contrast to many sword and sorcery adventures where each part feels more like a discreet thrilling adventure.

I loved it and hope Moorcock has time for more.

Five Stars

Give The Hill His Due


Speak of the devil…

Douglas Hill has put together an impressive collection here. The best works are predominantly the reprints but there was only one piece in the entire anthology not to my tastes. He also manages to include a new writer and two women in here, when most magazines seem to struggle to publish even one an issue.

If this quality can continue, maybe the future is here instead of in magazines after all?

Come back later in the month for my thoughts on the second Orbit anthology.




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 18, 1967] Highs and Lows (July Galactoscope #2)

7 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

We've had a bit of a backlog of books here at the editorial desk, and the only remedy was to have two back-to-back Galactoscopes. Luckily, summer is slow season for TV, and thus the schedule opens up a bit. Sometimes, our book review column comprises a clutch of mediocrities. This time around, the disparity in quality was abnormally high–mostly thanks (no thanks!) to the debut novel by one Piers Anthony…

Chthon, by Piers Anthony

Imagine a world where genetic modification has created a monstrous race of humans. The women are near-immortal semi-telepaths, but they suffer from an emotional inversion: they only feel love and joy when men express hate and pain. You can imagine how warped the ensuing society must be, the females doomed to solicit violence from their partners, the men compelled to express their every animalistic whim on them. One woman of this race escapes this planet, but, a slave to her make-up, cannot escape her wretched fate. Thus, she marries a man wracked with guilt from the death of his first wife in childbirth. When his love for the alien woman becomes unalloyed, she must leave, but not before she bears a child.

But the alien woman still requires love, twisted, painful love, to live. So she seduces her own son, thus ensuring his passion for his mother will always be the appropriate mix of pleasure and pain, and they can live happily ever after.

In-between these episodes, the story takes place on Chthon, the hellish underground garnet mine whence the son is sentenced for murder. Naked and toolless, he must devise an escape, resorting to treachery, violence, rapine, and cannibalism. Of course, we know he will escape because author Piers Anthony elected to tell the story in a ping-pong flashback/flashforward style, starting and ending with scenes on Chthon.

This is a terrible book.

The premise, fundamentally implausible, seems tailored to indulge a male id-fantasy. We already have a problem in our current society whereby women are "othered" into a different species: vain, frivolous, subservient, sinister, yet desirable. With Chthon, Anthony comes up with a scientificititious explanation for why his starring woman must be that kind of creature. Not that the other women in the novel fare much better, consisting of a slave and vicious fellow Chthonian prisoners.

I'm sure Anthony would say that the book is unpleasant because it bares the human (i.e. male) soul, revealing the sordid mess underneath we'd rather not acknowledge. That all men desire to possess our mothers, rape our partners. That hate is really the purest kind of love.

Mr. Anthony needs professional help. Chthon is an odious turd, and I suspect its author is, too. One star, and winner of this year's "Queen Bee" award.


by Cora Buhlert

Like our esteemed host, I also had the misfortune of reading Chthon. I spotted the paperback in my friendly local import store and was intrigued enough by the unusual title to pull it out of the spinner rack. And while I have not read much by Piers Anthony – and am now unlikely to ever read more – he is one of Cele Goldsmith Lalli's discoveries and she normally has a good eye for authors. The blurb on the back of the slim paperback – promising a tale of an inescapable space prison and a man sent there for pursuing a forbidden love affair – sealed the deal, because I am a sucker for space prison stories.

The scenes set on Chthon, the hellish prison planet cum garnet mine, are indeed the one redeeming grace of this novel. Genuinely atmospheric and visceral, they immediately drew me in. However, even these scenes are marred by what will become a recurrent problem, namely the fact that every single woman protagonist Aton Five meets wants to have sex with him, while Aton manfully refuses, because there can only be one woman for him: Malice the forbidden minionette (i.e. his mother, though he doesn't know that yet).

Scenes of Aton's life leading up to his incarceration are interspersed with the scenes on Chthon. Again, there are some interesting ideas here, such as hvee flowers which Aton's family cultivates and which can detect true love. And once again, the good ideas are marred by off-putting sex scenes, such as fourteen-year-old Aton trying to have sex with a thirteen-year-old neighbour girl and failing because human girls have anatomy and fluids, unlike his idealized vision of minionettes.

When Aton rapes a woman on Chthon, the book came close to hitting the wall and I only prevailed because I had promised to review it for the Journey. The book did actually hit the wall – and considering how expensive import paperbacks are, that's saying something – once we got to the planet of the minionettes, genetically engineered to be masochists and enjoy pain, and of course the final twist of just why Aton has been so obsessed with Malice since he was seven years old and that their "love" is forbidden for a very good reason.

Honestly, this is a terrible book. The sexual revolution and the New Wave have made it easier for science fiction to address formerly taboo subjects like sexuality. But just because authors can write about sex now, doesn't necessarily mean that they should foist their sexual fantasies upon unsuspecting readers, particularly the kind Piers Anthony appears to harbor.

Zero stars. Stay away!

Belmont Double 5F0-759

Belmont Publishing has decided to take on the Ace Double is a flaccid sort of way by combining two novellas (calling them "two complete novels") in one thin volume. This is the first result.

Peril of the Starmen, by Kris Neville

First up Kris Neville's 1954 story, Peril of the Starmen, which first appeared in the magazine Imagination. You're welcome to give it a read if you like.

The Flame of Iridar, by Lin Carter

Considering how harsh I was on The Star Magicians, I was surprised to find that Lin Carter's The Flame of Iridar, published as an Ace Double knock-off by Belmont together with Peril of the Starmen by Kris Neville, reprinted from the January 1954 issue of Imagination, was the better of the two books I read this month. Not that this is a high bar to clear, considering how utterly terrible Chthon was.

That said, Lin Carter's writing has improved since last year's The Star Magicians. True, his prose is still overly purple – thews are inevitably iron and mighty, blood and pain are inevitably scarlet, and female breasts are inevitably described by inappropriate adjectives – and Carter is still oddly preoccupied with lovingly describing his protagonist's manly physique. However, at least Carter remembers who his protagonist is this time around.

The protagonist is one Chandar of Orm, a deposed prince turned pirate on ancient Mars, when it still had oceans. If this setting seems familiar, that's because it is, borrowed wholesale form Leigh Brackett's much superior 1949 novel Sea-Kings of Mars, better known as The Sword of Rhiannon, the title under which it was published as the very first STF Ace Double back in 1953 together with another excellent fantasy adventure, Conan the Conqueror by Robert E. Howard. And indeed, Carter acknowledges this influence and dedicates The Flame of Iridar to Leigh Brackett and her husband Edmond Hamilton.

Thrilling Wonder Stories, July 1946

Ace Double Conan the Conqueror and Sword of Rhiannon

The opening of the novel finds Chandar of Orm in deep trouble. After a successful career as a pirate, he has been captured by the evil warlord Niamnon (occasionally spelled Niamnor in what I hope is not indicative of the quality of Belmont's copy-editing), the man who slaughtered Chandar's entire family in front the then twelve-year-old boy's eyes, and has been sentenced to die in Niamnon's arena, a fate Chandar himself imagines as follows:

A few more hours of darkness, and then the blinding morning sun on the arena sands… a few moments of scarlet pain… and he would rest… forever.

However, before it can come to that, Chandar and his comrade-in-arms Bram are freed by the enchanter Sarkond of K'thom, advisor to none other than King Niamnon himself. Sarkond also helpfully reveals Niamnon's plans of conquest and promises to take Chandar back to his pirate comrades. And in return, he only asks for a little favour. Use the Axe of Orm, a magical weapon that can only be wielded by a member of Chandar's family, to pierce the enchanted Wall of Ice that surrounds the magical realm of Iophar. What can possibly go wrong?

To no one's surprise, Sarkond double-crosses Chandar as soon as Chandar has fulfilled his purpose and hacked through the Wall of Ice. However, Chandar is saved by Meliander, exiled brother of the villainous King Niamnon.

What follows is an epic clash of the forces of good and evil. Chandar also gets revenge on Niamnon and his throne back. Furthermore, he gets entangled with two women, the witch Mnadis, whose breasts are "high and proud", and Llys, Queen of Iophar, whose breasts are "sweet and virginal". Three guesses with which of the two ladies Chandar ends up.

In many ways, The Flame of Iridar feels like the sort of swashbuckling planetary adventure that might have been found in the pages of Planet Stories or Thrilling Wonder Stories twenty years ago. It's not as good as Leigh Brackett or Edmond Hamilton at their best, but then who is?

An entertaining adventure that feels like a throwback to the pulp era. Three stars.


by Gideon Marcus

And to continue our positive mood (because after Chthon, a double dose is necessary), let's all dig on Ted White's latest novel:

The Jewels of Elsewhen, by Ted White

Arthur Ficarra, an exhausted ex-beat cop-cum-desk-sergeant, just wants his subway ride to end so he can go to sleep after an overlong shift. But when he responds to the death rattle of a fellow passenger, he discovers to his horror that the stricken man, and everyone on the train but one, is just a mannequin, the train a cardboard model. Only Arthur and a young woman named Kim remain human. Indeed, it turns out they are now the only living things in all of New York City.

But this is not the Big Apple they remember. It is subtly changed, freshly painted, with hollow buildings. Almost a model of itself. And it is disintegrating…

Escape takes them on a whirlwind tour of alternate timelines, the common element of which is that the people speak some variety of Italian. There also is the sense of deliberate manufacture, as well as a shepherding of world events by a secret society of cloaked individuals. Arthur and Kim must solve the riddle of these artificial universes before they are captured and dispatched by these caretakers.

I came in without knowing what to expect. Sure, Rose Benton gave White's last book, Android Avenger, a whopping five stars, but I'd never gotten a chance to read it. All I really knew about the author was that he doesn't like Star Trek (per his column in the latest issue of the Yandro fanzine), he helps edit Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he's chair of the NyCon 3 committee.

I really dug this book. It's written in a punchy but understated style well-suited to mainstream fiction; indeed, I have to wonder if White makes most of his money out of the genre. He's certainly good enough. Arthur and Kim are compelling, strong characters, and the divergent timetracks are nicely detailed. I was in recent correspondence with Ted, and I mentioned that the book reminded me a bit of Laumer's Worlds of the Imperium books. He replied that the resemblance was intentional, and that Laumer had a strong influence on him.

If anything, I like White's even better! Four stars.



7 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[July 16, 1967] The Weird and the Surprising (July 1967 Galactoscope)

9 Comments


by Jason Sacks

Philip K. Dick has a new novel out. And guess what, it’s very strange. Are you shocked?

The Ganymede Takeover, by Philip K. Dick & Ray Nelson

The space slugs have taken over the Earth.

Those slugs come from the distant planet Ganymede. Earth is their first invasion target ever. But they have ambitions. The Ganymedeans have managed to conquer and occupy our planet. However, the slugs are failing at their third objective: to absorb the people of Earth as their servants.

Resistance is strong in at least one area of the planet: the Bale of Tennessee. There, he will have to fight the Neegs, who are led by a violent revolutionary named Percy X. The dreaded assignment of conquering that area goes to Mekkis, an insecure slug whose fortune bodes poorly.

Mekkis and his fellow conquerors have one great weapon at hand they can use to defeat the humans. A human, the neurotic Dr. Baldani, condemned as quisling, has developed a reality distortion bomb, which can destroy all of humanity. But will he allow that weapon to be used?

The Ganymede Invasion, a rare collaboration between Philip K. Dick and Ray Nelson, is dense as hell and weird as hell. Dick and Nelson make a pretty good team. Nelson smooths out Dick while Dick makes Nelson weird. Their San Francisco writers’ workshop friends must love the stories the pair creates

The esteemed Mr. Nelson

Truth be told, I missed Dick’s wild randomness at times; I was genuinely shocked that nearly all the elements introduced in the first chapter resolve by the end! Meanwhile, Nelson pushed Dick to go even further with his usual psychedelia, with references to supermarket carts with submachine guns and to vorpal meat cleavers, among many other stunning images. It’s the Summer of Love and this book came from the San Francisco area, so how can you ask for anything timelier?

The Black Panthers at the California state capitol, earlier this year

Percy X is the most intriguing character in the novel. Percy can be seen as an analog to Malcolm X, which would make the Neegs the equivalent of the Black Panther Party. Or he can be seen as a reflection of Perseus, the Greek legend who slayed monsters and came to found the republic of Mycenae. Either interpretation would fit this story. Percy is a crusader, a fighter against the literal monsters of the Ganymedeans and is a true hero. Heck, the name Ganymede implies a reference to Medea.

Philip K. Dick, Nancy Dick, and Robert Silverberg conversing in lobby, Baycon

I haven’t discussed the sentient hotel rooms or talking, neurotic taxi cabs or even a key Quisling type character in the book. There’s just too much to cover in a review like this and I want you to be surprised by what you read.

 The Ganymede Invasion isn’t great Dick, but it is hugely entertaining. And like nearly every novel by PKD, Ganymede is a short quick read. I recommend this oddball collaboration.

3 stars.


by Gideon Marcus

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, by Harlan Ellison

The third collection of Ellison stories contains the now-typical set of introductions which folks often like as much as the stories they precede. It's a thin volume, with just seven pieces, and it suffers for being less tonally nuanced than the prior two collections. The subject is pain, Harlan's personal pain, and while I'm sure the tales were cathartic to write for him, by the end, they all start to sound like Harlan kvetching to us over a Shirley Temple at around 3am.

Not that they're bad–Harlan is a gifted author–but they are somewhat one-note and unsubtle. To wit:

  1. I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream: The last five humans are trapped in the bowels of the sapient computer who hates and torments them. This is the unexpurgated version of the story that appeared in IF a few months prior, with less veiled references to homosexuality and genitalia.

    It's a raw, powerful piece. Four stars.

  2. Big Sam was My Friend: An interstellar carnival makes a stop on a planet with a tradition of human sacrifice. Big Sam, the circus strong man, can't let them go through with it…with disastrous results. Interesting more for the detail than the events.

    Three stars.

  3. Eyes of Dust: On a world devoted to and obsessed with personal beauty, can deformity be tolerated? Be careful – perfection may need imperfection to exist!
     
    Another passionate story, but somehow forgettable. Three stars.
     
  4. World of the Myth: Three astronauts are stranded on a planet: a cruel but charismatic man, the woman who loves him, and the nice fellow who loves the woman. They meet a race of telepathic ants, conversation with whom reveals the true nature of the parties communicating. Can the astronauts stand that knowledge?
     
    It's a neat setup, but a rather prosaic story. Three stars.

    5.  

  5. Lonelyache: A widower is tormented by dreams in which he is hounded by assassins, forced to dispatch them in the most brutal of fashions. Gradually, the man becomes aware that there is an inchoate…something…sharing his apartment, feeding on his unhappiness. Can he escape its thrall before it's too late?
     
    The story with the most Harlan-esque voice. Three stars.

    6.  

  6. Delusion for a Dragon Slayer: To all respects, Warren Glazer Griffin was the milquetoastiest of milquetoasts. But when he died in a freak accident, he was allowed to live an afterlife fantasy in which he indulged all of his suppressed depravities. The result isn't pretty.
     
    Three stars.

    7.  

  7. Pretty Maggie Moneyes: Inspired by a true encounter (and with the best introduction of the collection), this is the tale of the woman who sold her soul for comfort, lost it permanently to a slot machine, and resorted to desperate measures to get free.

With the intro, I give it four stars.

For the collection, 3.5 stars.


by Robin Rose Graves

City of Illusions by Ursula K. Le Guin

An amnesiac narrator on a planet of liars. Le Guin takes us far into Earth’s future where humanity has regressed under the domination of a group of aliens called the Shing.

Our main character is Falk, who looks almost human except for his slitted yellow eyes. He wakes up in the forest with no memory of where he came from and mentally reduced back to the mind of a baby. Falk is taken in by a family and rehabilitated, all the while learning their culture, which fears the Shing who now control Earth and hinder civilization from developing to be any larger than scattered small groups of people across the planet. The Shing are most notable for being liars, something Falk is warned about throughout the book. However, in order to reclaim the answers that were stolen from him, Falk must leave the family and seek out the Shing.

The book drags during the first 80 pages as Falk travels alone through nature. This part serves well to relay the isolation of his journey and to show the effect the Shing’s presence has on Earth’s development. However, overall nothing of great significance happens in this part of the book.

Once Falk gets captured by a hostile group of humans, he meets a slave woman named Strella with whom he plots his escape in exchange for her guiding him to the Shing. Here the book becomes interesting, particularly when something Strella says suggests that the reason Falk has been stripped of his memory might be because that is how the Shing punish criminals. It made me wonder if Falk is really the good guy after all.

However, it isn’t until Falk reaches the City of Illusion that the story reaches its full potential and lives up to its name, as deceptions are uncovered and more information is revealed to Falk, who doesn't know what is true and what is false – including everything he has experienced up until this point. He’s unable to trust the Shing and unsure if they have ulterior motives. I had a lot of fun reading these chapters. Something would be revealed only to be quickly disproved and it made for an exciting read where I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next because I barely knew what the truth was – much like the hero.

The end chapters redeem the slow beginning. For a small world, Le Guin well establishes Earth as something distant and foreign to a modern reader. The plot exercises the brain and leaves the reader in suspense. However, this book is far longer than it needed to be. For 160 pages long, the first 80 pages are particularly empty and I think Le Guin could have achieved the same story by cutting out half the words.

I enjoyed this book, but it failed to impress. 3 stars.

The Strength to Dream


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Colin Wilson
The Young Philosopher himself

There have been many surprising entries into SF writing, but perhaps none more so than Colin Wilson taking on H. P. Lovecraft.

Covers for Colin Wilson's The Outsider and Introduction to the New Existentialism

Best known as a philosopher, Colin Wilson received great acclaim for his first book The Outsider and continues to be successful in this arena, including last year’s Introduction to The New Existentialism.

Covers to Colin Wilson's Fiction novels Ritual in the Dark and the Glass Cage

He has also attempted to express some of his ideas in popular crime fiction, such as Ritual in the Dark and The Glass Cage.

Neither of these avenues lead directly to science fiction, let alone Lovecraft. So how did it happen?

Apparently, Wilson is a fan of the concepts of Lovecraft and had written an essay saying so but expressing distaste for his actual prose. August Derleth saw this and wrote to Wilson suggesting he write his own book on these themes.

The result is The Mind Parasites, what could be described as Post-Lovecraftian. An optimistic existentialist new-wave cosmic horror, which is likely to either impress or appall the reader!

The Mind Parasites by Colin Wilson

The story starts in 1997, with Dr. Austin learning of the suicide of his friend and colleague Dr. Weissman. The news unsettles him, but the world suicide rate has been increasing over the decades and is in fact a major concern of many people. Delving into his papers, Austin discovers Weissman had been experimenting with ways of expanding his consciousness but became fearful of an evil presence.

At the same time Dr. Austin is working on a dig in Turkey. They discover a remarkable Proto-Hattian settlement where the inhabitants worship “Aboth the Unclean” and have massive blocks of stone which should have been impossible to move in 10000 BC. The site becomes a sensation when an elderly August Derleth notes how much this mirrors the stories of writer H. P. Lovecraft.

These two facts come together to form a startling discovery: for centuries mankind has had its progress impeded by a force that feeds on our despair. The Mind Parasites!

Whilst the concepts and themes are definitely of the cosmic horror seen in 30s Weird Tales, it is also most clearly something different.

Firstly, its writing is more academic than purple prose. This story is said to be compiled from a variety of papers in the early 21st century, explaining the unusual world events in the early 1990s. The fact that it is being told from the future provides an explanation for the style and shows the author giving real consideration to the context.

Secondly, in keeping with Wilson’s “New Existentialist” ideals, the characters are not simply the victims of ideas too big to grasp. Instead this is an ode to the limitless potential of the human mind. Rather than nihilistic, the ending is optimistic and the revelation about the true nature of the titular creatures was a fascinating surprise to me.

Thirdly, and what is likely to repel some readers, is that large passages are devoted to discussion of various theories of the mind and man’s place in the universe. These sections read more like Huxley’s Heaven and Hell than an Ashton Smith fantasy. That is not to say there is not plenty of action, with scenes involving wars, ESP and space flight. But your tolerance for exploration of Wilson’s pet theories is likely to dictate your enjoyment.

Grading this on a standard scale is tough as it is so strange and experimental. So I am giving it a – very subjective – five stars!

And because we have so many books to review, we'll be having another Galactoscope in just two days! Stay tuned…



9 Comments Leave A Comment