Category Archives: Book

Science fiction and fantasy books

[January 22, 1967] The Return of the Cimmerian: Conan the Adventurer by Robert E. Howard


by Cora Buhlert

1967 is off to a cold and wet start here in West Germany, so it's the perfect opportunity to stay indoors and read. Thankfully, I have a plethora of magazines to keep me company.

Bravo January 1967
Teen magazines Bravo profiles Uwe Beyer, who plays Siegfried in the upcoming fantasy epic The Nibelungs, this month.
Für Sie January 1967
The women's mag Für Sie offers costume and make-up tips for the upcoming carnival season.
Das Motorrad January 1967
Motorbike magazine Das Motrrad tests the new Honda CB-250.

What is more, during my latest visit to my local import bookstore, the trusty spinner rack yielded not one but two treasures: Conan the Adventurer and Conan the Warrior by Robert E. Howard.

Conan the Adventurer
Hugo winner Frank Frazetta's interpretation of Conan

 

The Cimmerian Barbarian and the Texas Pulpster

The untimely death of Robert E. Howard thirty years ago is one of the great tragedies of our genre. The lifelong Texan Howard had his first story, the prehistoric adventure "Spear and Fang" published in Weird Tales in 1925, when he was only nineteen years old. In the following eleven years, Howard published dozens of stories in Weird Tales as well as in long forgotten pulp magazines such as Oriental Stories, Fight Stories, Action Stories, Magic Carpet Magazine or Spicy Mystery. In the introduction to Conan the Adventurer, editor L. Sprague de Camp calls Howard "a natural story-teller, whose tales are unsurpassed for vivid, colorful, headlong, gripping action."

In 1936, tragedy struck, when Howard's beloved mother was about to succumb to tuberculosis. Overcome with grief, Howard took his own life. He was only thirty years old.

Robert E. Howard
Robert E. Howard shortly before his untimely death

Howard's most famous creation is undoubtedly Conan the Cimmerian, a barbarian warrior whose adventures in the so-called Hyborian Age some twelve thousand years before our time Howard chronicled in eighteen published and several unpublished stories in Weird Tales between 1932 and 1936. At the time, the unique mix of pseudo-historical action, adventure and supernatural horror that Howard pioneered in the Conan stories had no name. Some thirty years after the appearance of the first Conan story, Fritz Leiber finally bestowed a name on this nameless subgenre: sword and sorcery.

It was the fate of many pulpsters, including popular and prolific writers, to be forgotten as the pulps faded. Howard, however, was never forgotten in the thirty years since his untimely death. His fiction has inspired authors like Fritz Leiber, Michael Moorcock and Lin Carter. There is a club devoted to his works, the Hyborian Legion, and the popular fanzine Amra started out as a Howard fanzine before branching out to cover the entire subgenre now known as sword and sorcery, a subgenre Howard created out of whole cloth in his parents' house in Cross Plains, Texas.

However, until now the actual stories of Robert E. Howard have been unavailable outside the yellowing pages of thirty-year-old copies of Weird Tales. There have been occasional magazine reprints, and Gnome Press reprinted the Conan stories in several hardcover collections in the early 1950s, but those editions are almost as difficult to find as vintage copies of Weird Tales.

Luckily for all of us sword and sorcery fans, Lancer Books has decided to reprint all the Conan stories in paperback format with striking covers by last year's Hugo winner Frank Frazetta. I was a little sceptical about Frazetta's Hugo win last year, since at the time he was mainly known for his Edgar Rice Burroughs covers. However, now that I've seen his take on Conan, I'm a fan.

Howard wrote the Conan stories, which follow the Cimmerian from his time as a thief in his late teens to his time as King of the Aquilonia in his forties, out of order, but editor L. Sprague de Camp has rearranged them into chronological order for the Lancer editions. For reasons best known to themselves, Lancer began its Conan reprints with two volumes set in the middle of Conan's career, during his time as a mercenary and warlord.

The People of the Black Circle

Weird Tales September 1934
Margaret Brundage's take on the Devi Yasmina and the Master of Mount Yimsa

Conan the Adventurer begins with "The People of the Black Circle", a novella that was serialised in the September, October and November 1934 issues of Weird Tales.

The story opens not with Conan – and indeed, it is a pattern with these stories that they open with other characters, before the Cimmerian appears – but with the King of Vendya, the Hyborian Age equivalent of India. The King is dying. In a moment of clarity, he tells his sister, the Devi Yasmina, that wizards have drawn his soul out of his body. Should he die in this state, his soul will be doomed forever. However, now that his soul has briefly managed to return to his body, the King begs Yasmina to kill him to save his soul from eternal damnation. Sobbing, Yasmina stabs him.

After a beginning like that, who could not read on? And so Howard leads us into a fabulous adventure that follows several competing factions as they vie for control over the Hyborian Age equivalents of India, the Himalaya and Afghanistan (thankfully, there is a handy map at the beginning of the paperback).

Weird Tales interior art
Hugh Rankin's interior art for Weird Tales feature Yasmina, Conan and a giant snake.

The Devi Yasmina, unsurprisingly, wants revenge for the death of her brother and her chosen instrument of vengeance is none other than Conan. The mercenary Kerim Shah wants to kidnap Yasmina and conquer Vendya on behalf of his employers, the neighbouring kingdom of Turan, and has conspired with the wizards of Mount Yimsa to murder the King. One of those wizards, Khemsa, is not satisfied with being merely a tool. He wants to overthrow both the wizards and the Devi with the aid of his lover Gitara, one of the Devi's handmaidens. Conan, finally, who is a warlord of the Afghuli hill tribes at this point in his life, merely wants back seven of his men, who have been captured by the forces of Vendya.

Weird Tales October 1934
The second installment of this story appeared in the October 1934 issue of Weird Tales, whose striking cover by Margaret Brundage illustrates C.L. Moore's story "Black God's Kiss", which I'd love to see reprinted.

Things come to a head, when Conan infiltrates the palace to negotiate the release of his seven hill chiefs with the governor of the Vendyan province of Peshkauri. Yasmina happens to blunder into the governor's study at just this moment and Conan winds up kidnapping her and going on the run. Conan intends to use Yasmina as leverage to secure the release of his men, while Yasmina still hopes to use him to avenge herself on the wizards of Mount Yimsa. Only one of them will get their will.

What follows is a glorious adventure. Conan finds himself faced with treachery from those he thought his allies, as well as unexpected alliances with enemies, as he takes on the wizards of Mount Yimsa and falls for Yasmina in the process.

Weird Tales November 1934
Margaret Bundage's striking cover for the November 1934 issue of Weird Tales.

After reading "The People of the Black Circle", I understand why Lancer and de Camp chose this particular story to reintroduce us to Conan. This story has it all, adventure and romance, political manoeuvrings and the blackest of magics. Conan's loyalty to the people whose leader he has become and his determination to rescue his captured men make him an incredibly likeable character for all his faults. And even though she was created more than thirty years ago, Yasmina is the sort of strong woman that is still all too rare in contemporary fantastic fiction. One of the most story's most memorable scenes occurs as the Master of Mount Yimsa forces Yasmina to relive all her previous lives, subjecting her to the violence and pain that women have suffered across time. I was surprised to see such insight from a male author.

Fellow traveller Victoria Silverwolf reviewed this story, when it was reprinted in the January 1967 issue of Fantastic and gave it three stars. I enjoyed this story a lot more than Victoria did.

A fabulous adventure by a writer at the height of his powers. Five stars.

The Slithering Shadow

Weird Tales November 1933
Margaret Brundage's illustration of Thalis whipping Natala, while the slithering shadow lurks in the background, was Weird Tales' most popular cover of all time.

This story originally appeared in the September 1933 issue of Weird Tales, which featured one of the most popular covers Margaret Brundage ever created for the unique magazine. But even though Brundage's predilection for painting scantily clad women in suggestive poses is well-known, the cover accurately illustrates a scene from this story.

"The Slithering Shadow" opens with Conan staggering through the desert of Kush in the Hyborian Age equivalent of Northern Africa, after the mercenary army in which he fought was defeated and wiped out. He is accompanied by Natala, a blonde woman he rescued from the slave market and made his companion.

Conan is at the end of his line and he knows it. He and Natala are out of water and there is no end to the desert in sight. Conan considers mercy-killing Natala to spare her the pain of dying of thirst, when they spot a mysterious city on the horizon.

However, the city Xuthal turns out to be just as deadly as the desert. And so Conan and Natala face Xuthal's drugged out inhabitants and the treacherous Stygian (the Hyborian equivalent of Egypt) Thalis who takes a liking to Conan and subjects poor Natala to the whipping that Margaret Brundage so memorably illustrated for the original Weird Tales cover. Finally, there's also Thog, a Lovecraftian horror (Howard and Lovecraft were pen pals) and the Slithering Shadow of the title who preys on the people of Xuthal…

Another great adventure. Not quite as good as "The People of the Black Circle", but then what could be? Four stars.

Drums of Tombalku

L. Sprague De Camp
L. Sprague De Camp

This novella is brand-new, based on an incomplete draft that was found among Howard's papers after his death and was completed by editor L. Sprague de Camp according to Howard's outline.

Like "The People of the Black Circle", "Drums of Tombalku" opens not with Conan, but with a young mercenary named Amalric. Conan and Amalric were comrades, until their mercenary army was wiped out (the armies in which Conan enlists sure tend to be unlucky). They fled into the desert, were attacked by raiders and separated. Amalric believes Conan dead, though the reader knows that the Cimmerian is still alive.

The novella opens with Amalric resting at a water hole with two bandits whose band he has joined, when the leader appears, bearing a young woman he found unconscious in the desert. The bandits plan to rape the young woman, but Amalric discovers his sense of chivalry and kills his companions.

This opening scene, which was presumably written by Howard, is the one point in Conan the Adventurer where the fact that these stories were written more than thirty years ago becomes apparent. For the bandits are black men and the physical descriptions of these characters are dated and downright uncomfortable to read in this era of progressing civil rights. And the fact that these bandits want to rape a (white) woman is unpleasantly reminiscent of Southern fears of sexual violence committed by black men. Though it is notable that Conan himself does not seem to suffer from racial prejudices and befriends people of all races. Indeed, both Conan and Amalric explicitly state in this story that white people are just as capable of both good and evil as black people.

Amalric attempts to return Lissa, the young woman he rescued, to her home and finds himself in yet another mysterious city in the desert whose hopped up inhabitants are stalked by the monstrous god Ollam-Onga. Clearly, this was a theme Howard loved, since it appears several times in his Conan stories.

Amalric slays Ollam-Onga and makes his escape together with Lissa, the god's worshippers in mad pursuit. He is reunited with Conan who is not dead after all. Instead, Conan was captured by the raiders of the desert metropolis Tombalku, but has risen to their captain by now, since Tombalku's king is an old friend of Conan's from his days as a pirate on the coast of what is now Africa.

Conan takes Amalric and Lissa to Tombalku, where racial tensions between the vaguely Middle Eastern and black population come to a head. The fact that Amalric slew the god Ollam-Onga, who is worshipped by Tombalku's inhabitants, does not help either.

Sometimes, stories are left unfinished for a reason and this was probably the case here. For Amalric is simply not as interesting as Conan and the first half of the story is very reminiscent of "The Slithering Shadow" (and Howard may well have reused ideas from this unfinished story).

As evidenced by his novels Lest Darkness Fall and The Tritonian Ring, L. Sprague De Camp is a very different writer than Robert E. Howard. He makes a decent effort to match Howard's style, but while Conan's dialogue does ring true most of the time, De Camp's action scenes don't have the energy of Howard's. Nor does De Camp have Howard's poetic sensibility and some of his word choices like "condottiere" don't match the prehistoric milieu of the Hyborian Age.

The weakest story in this collection, but nonetheless entertaining. Three stars.

The Pool of the Black One

Weird Tales October 1933
Margaret Brundage's stunning cover for the October 1933 issue of Weird Tales

This story originally appeared in the October 1933 issue of Weird Tales and opens quite spectacularly with Conan clambering dripping wet aboard the pirate ship Wastrel in the middle of the Western Sea (we call it the Atlantic Ocean) after a fallout with the Barachan pirates. The Wastrel's captain Zaparavo is not particularly pleased with the mysterious stranger who boarded his ship, though he grudgingly makes him part of the crew. Meanwhile, Zaparavo's lover Sancha is fascinated by Conan.

As we've seen in "The People of the Black Circle" and "Drums of Tombalku", Conan is very charismatic and a natural leader and so he quickly wins the respect of the Wastrel's crew. He is also clearly aiming to become captain of the Wastrel, just as he became warlord of the Afghuli hill tribes and captain of the raiders of Tombalku.

Conan gets his chance to take over the Wastrel, when the clearly insane Zaparavo takes the ship to a mysterious island far off the coast in search of some great treasure. What he finds instead is death at the business end of Conan's sword.

But the island is not as deserted as it seems and soon Conan has to defend Sancha and the pirate crew against its inhuman inhabitants and their strange and terrible rites…

"The Pool of the Black One" starts off as a pirate adventure-–and indeed, this makes me question De Camp's chronology, for in "Drums of Tombalku" it is clearly stated that Conan's pirate days are in the past-–but takes a turn into Lovecraftian territory, once the Wastrel reaches the nameless island. The horror of the island, a mysterious pool which turns people into figurines, is certainly a unique idea, but Howard never fully explores it.

Another enjoyable adventure of the Cimmerian barbarian. Four stars.

There's Gold in Them Pulps

Sword and sorcery has been undergoing something of a revival ever since Michael Moorcock introduced Elric of Meniboné in the pages of Science Fantasy and Cele Goldsmith Lalli rescued Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser from oblivion and also gave the world John Jakes' Brak the Barbarian and Roger Zelazny's Dilvish the Damned in Fantastic. Furthermore, the enormous success of Ace's (unauthorised) paperback editions of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings has shown that fantasy has the potential of being just as successful as science fiction.

However, until now it has been very difficult to read the original stories of Robert E. Howard as well as other sword and sorcery writers of the 1930s such as C.L. Moore, Clark Ashton Smith, Henry Kuttner or Clifford Ball that started it all.

I have read a few of the Conan stories in scattered reprints in magazines and collections and my own Kurval sword and soccery series was directly inspired the novel The Hour of the Dragon a.k.a. Conan the Conqueror, which features Conan as King of Aquilonia. But in spite of scouring used bookstores, I have never been able to track down all of the stories. Therefore, I'm grateful to Lancer and L. Sprague De Camp for reprinting the Conan stories, including the ones that Robert E. Howard never got to finish. I hope that sales are good enough that they will complete this project.

Furthermore, I hope that the Conan reprints are only the beginning of a movement to bring the fantasy of thirty years ago back into print. For while there was a lot of dross published in the pulps, there also were a lot of wonderful stories that deserve rediscovery. For example, I would love to see some of the other characters Robert E. Howard created for Weird Tales such Kull of Atlantis, the Puritan avenger Solomon Kane or Bran Mak Morn, last King of the Picts, back in print. C.L. Moore's stories about the interplanetary outlaw Northwest Smith and the medieval swordswoman Jirel of Joiry from Weird Tales also deserve to be rediscovered as do the lyrical and truly weird fantasy and horror stories of Clark Ashton Smith. Finally, I also hope to see all of Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories collected eventually, including the early ones that were published in Unknown some twenty-five years ago.

Conan the Adventurer is an excellent collection of what we now call sword and sorcery fiction and also serves as a great introduction to the author and the character who gave birth to the subgenre.

Four stars for the collection.

But what about Conan the Warrior, the second Lancer Conan collection, you ask? Well, stay tuned, cause I will be reviewing that one next month right here at Galactic Journey.

Snow in East Berlin in 1967
Winter has come to East Berlin, giving children the chance to get out their sleds.





[January 14, 1967] First batch (January Galactoscope)

Big, But . . .


by John Boston

No matter if you don’t believe in Santa Claus. Judith Merril is back with another volume of her annual anthology, 11th Annual Edition the Year’s Best S-F (sic), from Delacorte Press just in time for the Christmas trade. If you missed the boat on Christmas, surely you can make it work for Valentine’s Day.


by Ziel

The overall package is familiar: 384 pages thick, a crowded contents page, a short introduction, but lots of running commentary between items, sometimes about the stories or authors and sometimes, it seems, about whatever crosses Merril’s mind as she assembles the book. There is the usual Summation at the end, but the extensive Honorable Mentions listing is gone, though she mentions some items that didn’t make the cut in the Summation and commentary.

The contents are eclectic as usual, but let Merril tell it: “The stories and poems and essays here have been selected from as wide a range as I could cover of books and periodicals published here and in England last year. About half the entries are from the genre magazines. The rest are from books and from such diverse sources as Mademoiselle and Escapade, The Colorado Quarterly and the Washington Post, Playboy and the Saturday Review (and Ambit and King in England).” “Of the year” in the title is notional at best. This volume includes a story by Jorge Luis Borges, The Circular Ruins, which dates from 1940, and an . . . item . . . by Alfred Jarry, who died in 1907.

The usual disclaimer is here, too. From the Introduction:

“This is not a collection of science-fiction stories.

“It does have some science fiction in it—I think. (It gets a little more difficult each year to decide which ones are really science fiction—and frankly I don’t much try any more.)”

Unfortunately this year’s book falls short of most of its predecessors to my taste. Unusually, some of the selections by the biggest-name authors are strikingly lackluster. Isaac Asimov’s Eyes Do More than See, from F&SF, is a short piece of annoying pseudo-profundity about the down side of becoming a disembodied energy being. Gordon R. Dickson’s Warrior (from Analog), part of his militaristic Dorsai series, gives us a protagonist who is such a comprehensive superman that his enemies are rendered helpless by his mere presence, and the story turns quickly into self-parody. J.G. Ballard is represented by one very fine story, The Drowned Giant, from Playboy, and another, The Volcano Dances, which reads like a parody of his recurrent theme of humans happily pursuing self-destructive obsessions: his protagonist takes up residence near a volcano that’s about to blow, refuses all entreaties to leave, and at the end is apparently heading towards it as the volcano’s rumbling becomes more ominous.

There is a decided swerve this year towards the British magazines New Worlds and Science Fantasy, with four stories from each here. The best of this lot is David I. Masson’s Traveler’s Rest (New Worlds), which depicts a world where the passage of time varies with latitude, much faster at the North Pole where a furious high-tech war is ongoing, and more slowly towards the equator where people live more or less normal lives. In some of the others, it is quite unclear what is going on, and purposefully: two of them are (or seem to be) narrated by mental patients (David Rome’s There’s a Starman in Ward 7 and Peter Redgrove’s long poem The Case (both from New Worlds)). Josephine Saxton’s The Wall (Science Fantasy) is a strange, haunting, allegorical-seeming story of lovers who never meet except through a small hole in a wall dividing a world that seems like some sort of artificial construct that they don’t understand and is unexplained to the reader.

As always, Merril has harvested some stories from non-genre sources, most sublimely Jorge Luis Borges’s The Circular Ruins, from 1940. It’s a metaphysical fantasy about a man who travels in a canoe to a ruined temple to carry out a mission: “He wanted to dream a man: he wanted to dream him with minute integrity and insert him into reality.” This story, resonantly translated from the Spanish, is the find of the book. Also noteworth is Game, by Donald Barthelme, from the New Yorker, about two guys locked in an underground bunker charged with dispatching nuclear missiles as ordered. They have gone months without relief and are pretty much nuts; it is strongly hinted that the war has happened and they’re never getting relieved. Gerald Kersh’s Somewhere Not Far from Here, from Playboy, is about some ragged revolutionaries against an unidentified tyranny; its portrayal of men struggling in extremity in mud and blood, in a seemingly hopeless cause, may be hokey but it contrasts sharply and favorably with Dickson’s absurd power fantasy of an effortlessly irresistible conqueror, discussed above. But there are also a number of less meritorious, and sometimes outright distasteful items from the non-SF press, including a remarkably sexist story by Harvey Jacobs, The Girl Who Drew the Gods, from Mademoiselle, of all places.

Summing Up

There’s a lot in this big book that’s perfectly adequate, but not so much that made me seriously glad to have read it, and a fair amount that seems silly, trivial, or distasteful. The best of the lot to my taste are mostly mentioned above; others include Arthur C. Clarke’s Maelstrom II, R.A. Lafferty’s Slow Tuesday Night, Johnny Byrne’s Yesterday’s Gardens, and Walter F. Moudy’s The Survivor. The other two-thirds of the book’s contents are things I don’t imagine I will ever think of again.

Interestingly, Merril herself expresses dissatisfaction with the current state of American SF, which she attributes to the lack of a “combining force” or “focal center”: “We have the writers; we have the markets; we have the readers. But nothing is happening to bring them together.” She compares this situation unfavorably to that in the UK. I don’t find this explanation very convincing. I am convinced that Merril would have a better book if she included a few longer stories and accepted a shorter contents page, and dropped a few of the less substantial items from prestigious sources.

As the Los Angeles Dodgers might say—wait ‘til next year.



by Gideon Marcus

The Quy Effect, by Arthur Sellings

This latest book by short story veteran, Arthur Sellings, starts with a literal bang. A factory has blown up, and Adolphe Quy, an eccentric inventor is the culprit. Seems he was doing experiments with an organic room-temperature superconductor, which got overloaded. But in the process, something even bigger was discovered: practical antigravity.

With a setup like that, you'd think this short novel would be about the effect such an invention would have on humanity. Indeed, for the first forty pages or so, Sellings seems to be taking forever to start the plot. Then you realize you've been anticipating the wrong book. The Quy Effect is about the trials and tribulations of a discredited inventor doing his best to bring to light a technology only he believes in.

Which means, of course, that there were two ways the book could have gone that would have been deeply dissatisfying. One is the John Campbell route, in which it is made obvious that everyone but Quy (pronounced 'kwe') is a moron, and the whole book is a satire of our stupid society that quells the inspirations of unsung geniuses. The other is the British route, which would have Quy end up in an insane asylum, the work being sold as "darkly humourous."

Thankfully, despite Sellings actually being British, he avoids both of these potentialities. Instead, The Quy Effect is a quite interesting set of character studies, one that kept me glued to the pages. It really is not certain throughout the entire book whether or not Quy will succeed. Nor does it seem that the odds are artificially stacked against him. Quy, in many ways, made the bed he's stuck in. Now he has to find his way out.

And while science, for the most part, takes a backseat in this book, I did appreciate the bit where Quy dismisses rocket-powered spaceflight as an economic dead end:

Rockets have got as much future as the dirigible airship had. A certain beauty, a kind of glamour, but too damn dangerous and cumbersome and expensive. Riding space in a pint-sized canister on top of a thousand tons of high explosive—that's not the way. We've got all the energy we want, if we can only use it. We shouldn't have to rely, in this day and age, on crude chemical reaction. Subject a man to ruinous accelerations because we have to carry a giant-size gas tank a minimum distance. What we need is more like a nuclear-powered submarine. Point its noise in the air and float up.

Only time will tell if he is right, but I've made similar assertions since Sputnik. I'm delighted to see the latest results from Explorer satellites, to watch the Olympics live from Tokyo (at 3 A.M., Pacific), and I thrill at grainy videos of spacewalking astronauts. But for the kind of mass space exodus so much of our science fiction is based on, I suspect Sellings' mouthpiece is right—rockets won't do the trick.

Anyway, going by the Budrys yardstick of quality (if one enjoys reading the book, it's good), The Quy Effect is very good, once one accepts it for what it is.

And what it is garners a full four stars.


The Second Law of Thermodynamics; Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Entropy


by Victoria Silverwolf

Agent of Chaos, by Norman Spinrad

It wasn't very long ago that I reviewed this young author's first novel. It's obvious that he keeps banging away at the typewriter steadily, because here comes another one.


Anonymous cover art, and a misleading blurb. Ending the human race isn't the goal of anybody in the story. And I don't think that calling a novel agonizing is a way to help sales.

I don't know about you, but when I pick up a book I like to look at the stuff that surrounds the text first. Front and back cover, dedication, preface or introduction, afterword, whatever. Let's flip this paperback over and see if we can learn anything.


Is it really possible for a new book to be a classic?

This blurb isn't much more accurate. The Brotherhood of Assassins isn't the dictatorship; that's the Hegemony. Allow me to explain.

Several centuries in the future, long after the two sides of the Cold War got together to avoid total destruction, the combined government known as the Hegemony rules the solar system. The oligarchy in charge controls every detail in the lives of their subjects, known as Wards. Any violation of the rules is punishable by death. The sheep-like Wards mostly accept this, because the Hegemony offers them peace and prosperity.

The Democratic League is an underground organization, literally and metaphorically. It opposes the Hegemony, and is willing to use violence to overthrow it. The novel begins on Mars, where Boris Johnson, a member of the Democratic League, is part of an elaborate plot to assassinate one of the oligarchs. The motive is to convince the Wards that the Democratic League is a serious threat to the Hegemony.

The third player in this deadly game is the Brotherhood of Assassins. Despite the name, the first thing this bunch does is prevent the killing of the oligarch. Like other things they've done in the past, this action seems completely random. Both the Hegemony and the Democratic League think of the Brotherhood of Assassins as deranged fanatics, dedicated to the philosophical writings of the fictional author Gregor Markowitz. Quotations from this fellow's books, which have titles like The Theory of Social Entropy and Chaos and Culture, introduce each chapter in the novel.

The story jumps around the solar system, with plenty of plots and counterplots, ranging from political intrigue within the oligarchy to mass violence. At times, the book reads like a cross between Ian Fleming and Keith Laumer. But Spinrad is trying to say something more profound, I think.

The Hegemony represents any established Order. The Democratic League represents the opposition to that Order. Ironically, that very opposition becomes part of a new Order. The Brotherhood of Assassins represents Chaos, working against both of the other groups. (In another touch of irony, this often means working with one or the other. Such paradoxes, we're told, are part of Chaos.)

There's a major plot twist about halfway through the novel that I won't reveal here. Suffice to say that something found in a lot of science fiction stories changes the situation drastically, leading to a dramatic ending involving the Ultimate Chaotic Act.

The book certainly held my interest. I'm not sure what to think about all the discussion of Order and Chaos, but it was intriguing. At times the novel is melodramatic. Overly familiar science fiction elements appear frequently, from moving sidewalks to laser guns.

One peculiar thing is that there are no female characters in the book, not even a minor one playing the typical role of the Girl. The closest we get to acknowledging that two sexes exist is a line describing a crowd of Wards as placid, indifferent-looking men and women. The Wards are just cannon fodder, casually slaughtered by the three competing forces, so they remain pretty much faceless.

That reminds me of the fact that there are no Good Guys in this novel. All sides are willing to kill to achieve their goals, including wiping out innocent bystanders. The author's sympathies seem to be with the forces of Chaos, but they definitely have as much blood on their hands as the forces of Order. (Why else would they call themselves the Brotherhood of Assassins?)

Overall, a provocative but frustrating book.

Three stars.






[December 22, 1966] Who's In Charge Here? (The Monitors by Keith Laumer and The Nevermore Affair by Kate Wilhelm)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits — and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!

— from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, translated by Edward FitzGerald

Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes?

There's a common tendency for people to want to take control in order to make the world a better place. A pair of new science fiction novels feature characters who want to run things the way they see fit, with the goal of improving the planet. In all other ways, these two books could not be more different.

The Monitors, by Keith Laumer


Cover art by Richard Powers.

There's no need for me to talk much about prolific author Keith Laumer, since I recently discussed his career while reviewing another of his novels. You know this latest work is going to be a fast-moving adventure; the only question to ask is if it's going to be serious or funny. It soon becomes clear that the latter possibility is the correct one.

Out of the blue, every television, radio, public address system, or other form of electronic communication broadcasts the same message.

Citizens of Earth. I am the Tersh Jetterax. It is my pleasure to announce to you that a new government has now taken over the conduct of all public affairs.

He's not kidding. A bunch of handsome, polite young men in yellow uniforms show up. If you refuse to follow their orders, they simply wave their hands and take over your body, making you do what they want.

Our hero is Ace Blondel, unemployed pilot. He manages to get away from the Monitors for a while, leading them on a wild chase. There's no real way to avoid them, so he becomes a guest of the Tersh Jetterax. This character appears to be an elderly gentleman, who doesn't understand why Ace would object to the Monitors creating a better society.

The Tersh Jetterax, in charge of this area, offers a number of very convincing arguments about why corrupt, inefficient human governments should be replaced by the benign, selfless Monitors. He makes a very good case, really, as Ace watches recorded scenes of ignorant teachers, hospitals refusing patients without insurance, overcrowded courtrooms, and other abuses. It's hard for readers not to think of the Monitors as the good guys.

Despite this, Ace escapes. (Not too difficult to do, when your hosts are so kindly, and never keep their doors closed.) He winds up working with an organization called SCRAG — Special Counter Retaliatory Action Group — created by a paranoid General for just such an emergency. It's privately funded, because the General thinks the military is full of subversives.

This turns out to be jumping from the frying pan into the fire, as the General suspects Ace of being a spy. He gets away with the help of Nelda Monroe, a woman who is also disillusioned with the organization. The rest of the book sends Ace bouncing back and forth like a silver sphere in a pinball machine, never sure who he's supposed to be helping and who's after him.

It's a wild rollercoaster ride of a book, to be sure. There's plenty of satire of human foibles, almost as if Laumer were collaborating with Robert Sheckley. Nelda is an outrageous character, spouting intellectual jargon one moment, gushing over a good-looking Monitor the next, never consistent in her beliefs for a second. She could be seen as a caricature of a scatterbrained female, but the author spares no one from his poison pen. Just about all the folks Ace runs into, other than the blandly beneficent Monitors, are lunatics, fools, and scoundrels.

This is quite an amusing book, almost cinematic in style. In addition to satire, you've got quite a bit of funny dialogue, some of its mad logic worthy of a Marx Brothers movie. There's plenty of action, of course, a lot of it verging on slapstick. The resolution is not what you might expect, and offers another wry look at humanity.

Four stars.

The Nevermore Affair, by Kate Wilhelm

Kate Wilhelm started publishing stories in the science fiction magazines about a decade ago. She divorced her first husband a few years ago (but kept his last name, at least professionally) and married fellow SF writer Damon Knight.


A photograph from about the time she changed husbands.

Her first (and, to date, only) collection of short fiction has the same title as the first story she sold (although it was the second one to appear in print.)


Cover art by Richard Powers.

At least, that's true for the American edition. The British edition, for some reason, uses the title of another story in the collection.


Cover art by Richard Weaver.

Besides the book we're going to talk about here, she's published a mystery novel on her own, and a science fiction novel in collaboration.


Cover art by Lawrence Ratzkin.

The paperback edition of her whodunit tries hard to convince me it's a Gothic Romance. A beautiful woman running away from a spooky house is always a strong clue that a book is being sold as part of that genre.


Anonymous, and generic, cover art.

Her first science fiction novel, written with Theodore L. Thomas, was an expansion of a story with the same title by Thomas alone. I haven't read it, but apparently the title creature is a monster something like the one that appears in The Blob, but created by science rather than coming from outer space. It was nominated for a Nebula (along with a dozen other novels by other folks) but lost to Frank Herbert's Dune.


Cover art by Hoot von Zitzewitz.

As I've indicated above, Wilhelm's first solo science fiction novel is completely different from Laumer's latest book, despite a common theme of controlling the world. Starting with the superficial stuff, it's a hardcover, priced at $4.50, instead of a sixty-cent paperback. I don't know the word count of either novel, but Wilhelm's is nearly two hundred and forty pages long, while Laumer's barely makes it to one hundred and sixty. As we'll see, the contents, styles, and moods of the two books do not resemble each other at all.


Cover art by Lynn Sweat.

In sharp contrast to Laumer's breakneck pace, Wilhelm takes her time, setting the scene and introducing the characters. Lucien Thayer seems, at first, to be nothing more than a lazy playboy, living on a North Carolina horse farm without a real job. His wife, Doctor Stella Thayer, on the other hand, is a career-driven biologist.

Their lives get turned upside down when military types show up at the university where she works. They tell Stella and her colleagues that their work is now top secret, and they are going to be transported to an island facility to continue the project confidentially. Stella lies to the authorities, telling them that her husband knows all about her work, so he has to go with them as well.

(There are a couple of interesting points here. For one thing, it's assumed none of the wives of the male scientists know anything about the project. For another, the fact that Stella has to pretend that she's spoken to Lucien about it is the first indication that they have a very unusual marriage.)

In reality, they're taken to a secret base in the Rocky Mountains. The folks who abducted them put out a cover story that their plane crashed, killing all aboard. They're allowed all the equipment they need to continue the project, but they can't leave or communicate with the outside world.

David Carson is an old friend of Lucien, and the junior Senator from North Carolina. He smells a rat when Lucien leaves him a clue that he didn't leave home of his own free will. Much of the book concerns Carson's investigation into what's going on, using his relationship with the senior Senator from the state, his mentor, and other connections.

The reader, although not David, finds out quickly that Stella and the others are working on a drug that eliminates errors in cell reproduction; in essence, it stops aging and thus extends life indefinitely. Along with politicians who want to live for a very long time, there's a fanatical army officer who feels that it's his duty to restore the country to its glorious past, and a scientist who plans to shape society through the use of chemicals that alter emotions.

This synopsis makes the book sound like a thriller, and there are certainly parts of the novel that fit that category. David's slow realization of the extent of the conspiracy, and Lucien's efforts to escape imprisonment, provide plenty of suspense. The climactic scene reads like something from a James Bond story.

But Wilhelm is interested in other things, I think. The characters are of paramount importance, rather than the plot. All the major persons in the novel have lengthy interior monologues and flashbacks that reveal their inner natures.

Lucien, for example, proves to be much more than just an idle millionaire. He is an example of a complete person, which means that he has a perfect balance between emotional intuition and rational logic. His wife, for reasons revealed later in the book, fears her emotions, and seeks to lose them in her work. The way in which she evolves from a severely neurotic woman into another complete person, and the way that her relationship with her husband changes from a marriage of convenience to a true love match, serves as the heart of the book.

This is a serious work, with a depth to its themes and characters not often found in science fiction. (That may be why it's just called a novel on the cover.) It requires patience and careful attention on the part of the reader, who will be well rewarded.

Four stars.






[December 16, 1966] The God Slayers (two computer-themed novels)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Just as with the ancient Norse concept Ragnarök, it is inevitable the gods of music will fall. In America exciting new acts have been emerging to challenge the so-called British Invasion. The Grateful Dead appeared on an episode of documentary series Panorama, Otis Redding got a full dedicated special on Ready, Steady, Go and ? and the Mysterians have entered the top 40 with the bizarre Vox Organ sound of 96 Tears.

But none has been more dramatic than the dethroning of Eric Clapton by young James Marshall “Jimi” Hendrix.

Clapton is God graffiti
Pro-Clapton graffiti

Eric Clapton has become a central figure of the London Blues scene.  Making his name with The Yardbirds, he has also recorded with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and The Powerhouse. He had become seen by many as the greatest guitarist in the world, with the phrase “Clapton is God” spray-painted in Islington.

When Former Animals Bassist-turned-Manager Chas Chandler brought Jimi Hendrix to England, he took the American guitarist to see Clapton’s new band Cream at the London Polytechnic. In the middle of their set, Hendrix went on stage and asked Clapton if he could play a couple of numbers. He then proceeded to play a fast-paced version of Killing Floor (A Howlin Wolf song Clapton has reportedly found difficult in the past) and then walked off stage—thereby managing to upstage this musical God at his own concert.

Jimi Hendrix on Ready, Steady, Go!
Jimi Hendrix on Ready, Steady, Go!

Since then, he has given a fiery performance on Ready, Steady, Go! and released his first single “Hey Joe”. Is this kind of Nietzschean destruction of the British musical gods to prove permanent? Only time will tell.


It is not just in music the old gods are being replaced by new ones. There are two books that have come out where scientists are forced to face new computer overlords:

TACT computers for dating, recently profiled on Tomorrow’s World
TACT computers for dating, recently profiled on Tomorrow’s World

Battle of the Computers

B.E.A.S.T. by Charles Eric Maine

Charles Eric Maine is one of the old hands of British SF, having begun publishing short fiction before the war and novels since the early 50s. However, he has never quite impressed me in the way others of his generation have, like Eric Frank Russell, John Wyndham or Arthur C. Clarke. His latest has actually managed to lower my opinion of his work further.

The first thing to note about B.E.A.S.T. is it is a pretty short novel. The print is rather large and the whole thing probably only amounts to around 50,000 words.

The author then proceeds to spend a large amount of time at the start of the book explaining in great detail what DNA is and how genetics works. Whilst Maine clearly delights in showing his knowledge it is largely extraneous (do we need to know the names of the nucleic acids for things to progress?)

The depiction of women is also appalling. The narrator spends his time dissecting the looks of each one he sees with an horrendous judgement on each. One extroverted woman is described as a “congenital nympho”; of an an introvert a few pages later: “If she wasn’t exactly fat, she was well turned. Her face wouldn’t have launched a dinghy, let alone a thousand ships…[yet] somewhere inside her was a woman waiting to get out.” This is proceeds throughout text whenever a woman is introduced and, even ignoring the tackiness of it, represents another waste of space.

What remains is a rather mediocre thriller where Mark Harland, a member of the Department of Special Services, is sent to investigate Dr. Gilley, a research director at a genetic warfare research division. It is discovered Gilley has been doing experiments in simulating evolution in accelerated fashion inside a computer and believes he has created a sentient machine. The whole thing is oddly paced, filled with long conversations, and it has an ending that is among the most cliched possible

B.E.A.S.T. is a jumble of the most fashionable current ideas in science fiction, sexual psychology and spy-craft, gene warfare and computer control, thrown together in an attempt to appeal to the current reader. But it is done so poorly, it comes off as amateurish and cynical.

One star for this mess.


Colossus by D. F. Jones

From an old hand to a new writer. To the best of my knowledge this is the first SF work of DF Jones, and little seems to be known about him from the people I have spoken to. However, this novel makes it seem like he will have a bright future in science fiction.

The plot: Forbin has spent years devoting himself to the project of making a computer powerful enough such that it can be trusted to control the USNA nuclear weapons systems, thereby removing the dangerous threat of someone launching an unnecessary strike. However, as the launch of this computer (named Colossus) approaches he becomes nervous of its power, worried they will have no way to stop it if something goes wrong. The USNA president dismisses this and sets it to activate, then putting it in an impenetrable location so no one can tamper with it.

Two unexpected things happen however:
1. Colossus proves to be even more intelligent than Forbin had predicted;
2. It turns out the Soviet Union have also been building their own computer system, and now both sets of nuclear weapons are in electronic hands.

Most fans of science fiction may well be able to guess where this story was going, I myself was particularly reminded of Doctor Who: The War Machines (albeit with more nuclear missiles and fewer giant plastic boxes roaming the streets of London).

However, Jones is a very capable writer and manages to keep the tension up even as we are just reading Colossus reel off simple sums or instructions. One of the least discussed truths of our world is that the most important decisions in life are just made by people talking in rooms and calculations being made. Yet this will rarely be shown in films in this manner as it is hard for even a skilled director to keep you engaged. This is one advantage that the written word has over the screen, which Jones puts to excellent use (and I fear what would happen if this was made into a movie: presumably a lot of noise and gunfire signifying nothing).

In a recent interview with New Worlds, Kingsley Amis criticizes Colossus for spending some of the early part of the book explaining how the computer works, on the grounds that the concepts would be well known to the average science fiction reader. As much as I respect Mr. Amis, I would like to disagree at the most basic level with his argument. Firstly, unless something has truly entered popular culture enough that it would not need to be explained to one's grandfather (e.g. the presence of a gun in a western) the facts should be laid out for the reader that will be pertinent to a later understanding. And in this case I believe what Jones laid out is necessary to the reader's comprehension of future plot points, (not merely the explanation for its own sake we get from Maine). Secondly, and relatedly, I think we should be careful not to make SF books opaque to the mainstream reader. Particularly with those being released by a mainstream publisher, one never knows when a book will be the first science fiction novel a reader will pick up. If we simply assume they will know what a given term means because A. E. van Vogt used the term in a novelette in 1948 the genre will become increasingly insular.

In spite of just being a computer who largely communicates in curt typed instructions, Colossus must rank among the more memorable of science fictions villains. It is at once both coldly utilitarian and has its own god complex. Based on its own assessment of the facts and a belief that its mission is to prevent war, it cannot understand why it should not control the world, be worshipped as a deity and kill millions of humans in order to achieve greater aims.

Unfortunately, something this book shares with B.E.A.S.T. is the poor treatment of women. Whilst it is nowhere near as bad as what Maine has published, we still get Dr. Cleo Markham, one of Forbin's team, having a scene where she is naked for no apparent reason other than to titillate the reader, and we hear more about her “female intuition” than her actual skills at her job.

In contrast to B.E.A.S.T. which feels complete, Colossus feels open-ended. I have not heard if Jones has plans for a sequel or if it is meant to simply suggest the horror of what might come (ala Asimov’s The Evitable Conflict) but in either case it finishes the book on a high note rather than a damp squib of an ending that Maine gave us.

A high three stars

To The Victor…

So, in the future cybernetic war of who will control us, it definitely appears Colossus is going to win out over B.E.A.S.T. Whether we wish to accept their dominance is another matter…



[Having read about two fictional computers, you might enjoy reading about the state of the art in real computers. The Journey has a great many articles devoted to the subject. Stay up to date and give them a read!]




[December 10, 1966] Hot and Cold (December Galactoscope #1)

But first, please read this brief interlude!

As you know, in addition to Galactic Journey, I also run Journey Press, devoted both to republishing classics discovered while on this trek through time, but also to publish new works of science fiction in fantasy that (I hope!) live up to the quality and tradition of the classic works we offer.

If anyone would enjoy these works, we know it will be you.  This holiday season, pick up a title or three from Journey Press!  It's the best present you can give yourself, a loved one…and us!




Gideon Marcus

Moon of Three Rings, by Andre Norton

Andre Norton has maintained a steady output of books, mostly adding to existing series like Witch World and Crosstime.  With Moon, she opens up an entirely new (at least to me) vista, and it's a beautiful view.

Krip Vorlund is a Free Trader, one of two merchant leagues with stops at a myriad of planets through the galaxy.  Moon takes place on Yiktor, a backwards world at the edge of known space, where Vorlund's ships makes planetfall.  There, in the trading town set up for star merchants, he encounters Maelen, member of the native Yiktor race, living among the more primitive human settlers. 

Maelen is a beast tamer, with a menagerie of disparate creatures that can make the performances on Hollywood Palace look like child's play.  Krip is enchanted, with the show and the showmaster, but this causes the spaceman to become thoroughly embroiled in a local political struggle with galactic ramifications.

Before Krip now lies imprisonment, physical and then mental as the only way to avoid capture by rival factions is to transfer his consciousness into the body of a native animal.  So begins the parallel journeys of Krip and Maelen, one to return to his original form, and the other to weave a destiny that allows the aid of Krip while betraying as few of her race's principles as possible.

The more I think about this book, the more I like it.  Both Krip and Maelen get equal time as viewpoint characters, the perspective shifting every chapter.  Their "voices" are distinct, Krip's being straightforward (if a bit formal) and Maelen's more abstruse (yet eminently readable), as befits an alien.  Any animal-lover will find this book compelling, as the actions and feelings of the various beasts are integral to the story.  Norton is particularly good at having two characters of different sexes forming a deep bond without being lovers. 

In true Norton style, she's also set things up for this to become a series.  I don't know if further adventures of Krip Vorlund and Maelen will be quite as compelling as their first (you'll understand why once you're done with this book) but I'll probably read them, nonetheless.

Four stars.



Kris Vyas-Myall

Saga of Lost Earths & The Star Mill by Emil Petaja

Emil Petaja Saga of Lost Earths & Star Mill

The return of Emil Petaja to science fiction was a delightful surprise to me. A writer from the pulp era who I had no memory of, produced one of my favourite novels of last year, Alpha Yes, Terra No!, along with a number of other strong pieces. So, when I heard he was doing a science fantasy series for Ace, you can be sure I picked them up.

Let us start with a quick summary of the context of these books. In the future, the world has eliminated violence through selective breeding, in order to avert yet another atomic war. In Saga of Lost Earths, a strange metal is found that appears to be causing destruction. Into this situation comes Carl Lempi who, according to Dr. Enoch, has the three characteristics required to face this new threat: 1. The capacity for violence, 2. A high level of extra sensory perception, and 3. A knowledge of Finnish and early legends.

In The Star Mill, we meet Ilmar, man who is rescued from an asteroid by a space crew and finds he has no memory of his life before. But then the space crew start dissolving around him. Is he a weapon designed to destroy humanity? Or its saviour from the approaching black storm?

These tales most remind me of Andre Norton’s adventures. Like in her recent work Moon of Three Rings, Petaja blends the kind of fantasy tale you would expect from Moorcock, Lieber or Jakes with well-conceived futures, without it being the Burroughs\Flash Gordon style of Sword and Wonder tales. A fusion of spaceships and sorcery that does not sacrifice either. Perhaps the best equivalent is Anderson’s The High Crusade. A clash of genres that avoids feeling anachronistic.

If there is one concern I have, it is the tendency, which does occur in a number of fantasy stories, to imply there is something magical about Northern European DNA. Whilst clearly stemming from fairy stories, this has two flaws; one, these kinds of myths exist within a number of cultures and there's no reason to assume that people of African descent have fewer myths and legends. Two, and more problematically, it obviously links into a kind of Nordic racial superiority. I do not assume this was the intent, but it is something that should be acknowledged, and of which other fantasy writers should be wary.

Also, like the aforementioned Norton tales, they contain solid character work and entertaining plots. But, at least for me, they also fail to rise above the level of escapist adventures. They are fun books that I will read once, enjoy, and probably never pick up again.

The next book in the series is scheduled for March and I am certainly going to be ordering my copy. After all, as Prof. Tolkien said:

Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory.

And, by that measure, these are indeed glorious

A high three stars for each volume.



Jessica Dickinson Goodman

From Carthage then I came by Douglas R. Mason

The first opera written in the English language is called "Dido and Aeneas" by Henry Purcell, based on Vergil’s 19 BCE epic poem The Aeneid. First performed by an all-women company in 1689, it is a love story of equals: Dido, the African queen of Carthage and Aeneas, the erstwhile Trojan hero. In the final scene of the opera, Dido holds her best friend and sister Belinda’s hand as she sings what is known as Dido’s Lament, before climbing onto a pyre and setting it alight (it’s opera; it’s always this dramatic). Purcell’s Dido is a complete person: a ruler, a lover, a strategist, a flawed and tragic figure. Singing her lament was what made me fall in love with opera when I was 14, and the hope that Douglas R. Mason’s From Carthage then I came might include references to her was what made me pick up this book.

None of the women in Mason’s piece live up to Purcell’s Dido; when Tania Clermont dies by fire, she dies simpering and the narration swiftly focuses on her abuser's pain. All of Mason's women are poorly written and one-dimensional; incapable of forming strong bonds with other women and only existing in the negative space that the male characters permit them. I found it telling that in two separate scenes I was unable to tell if one of the women characters was unconscious or not, given how much the men around her were tossing her body around like a sack of potatoes (in one scene a man had knocked her out; in another she was theoretically awake). In From Carthage then I came, one male hero gropes a woman he is holding captive and forces her to sleep in his bed. The author makes clear we are to read this as romance.

The best thing about From Carthage then I came is its premise. The book opens on a prelude to revolution. For 7,000 years a pocket of humanity has been frozen inside of a climate-controlled dome as an ice age raged around them. Gaul Kalmer believes it is safe to leave, and is gathering a group to escape the mind-monitors and electric sun of Carthage to form a more natural colony called New Troy past the newly iceberg-free but still wine-dark Mediterranean Sea. But the weak writing fails to live up to the possibilities of the plot.

Instead of reading From Carthage then I came, let me recommend hunting for a recording of last summer's London Philharmonic’s performance of Dido and Aeneas at Glyndebourne, with the incredible Janet Baker as Dido. I promise it will transport you just as far as Mason’s piece promised to, contain just as many classical references as Mr. Kalmer tried to shoe-horn into his many speeches, and give you a newly rich appreciation for the now-Tunisian island of Carthage. I hear that Mason will be publishing more soon; let’s hope the next women he writes aren’t so lamentable.

Two stars.



(Did you remember to check out Journey Press? I promise our offerings as good as the best books reviewed here!)



[October 14, 1966] Alien Worlds in Precise Detail (Galactoscope)

The Gate of Time by Philip Jose Farmer


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

SF books are like buses, you wait forever for one you want to pick up, then many come along at once. From the weird spy drama of Kingsley Amis’ Anti-Death League, to Andre Norton’s space fantasy The Moon of Three Rings. From Brian W. Aldiss’ collection The Saliva Tree & Other Growths, to expansions from Disch and Zelazny. However, our esteemed editor steered me towards Farmer’s new novel, and I am very glad he did.

Down the Path

I am starting to see through lines in the current crop of great SF writers. J. G. Ballard has been doing his cut-up explorations of Inner Space. Harry Harrison is involved in grim satires of conservative issues. Rosel George Brown has begun writing novels that put her own unique stamp on space adventures. Whilst Roger Zelazny is applying a literary and philosophical twist to the standard scenarios of science fiction and fantasy.

However, Philip Jose Farmer is harder to pin down. What connects the fabulous tales of Riverworld, the sword & wonder novels of Robert Wolff, and the religious exploration of Night of Light? Perhaps his latest novel,The Gate of Time, holds the key?

Through the Doorway

One thing that needs to be noted before I start. This cover bears no relation to the book itself, as best as I can tell (except the existence on men and women in the story). Possibly it was originally intended for another novel and reused?

Whatever the case may be, here is the actual plot of Farmer’s work: Lt. Roger Two Hawks is a half-Iroquoian pilot in WW2. He is going on a bombing raid on the oil fields in Ploetsi when his bomber and a German fighter crash land on a strange Earth. In this one there is another war going on between the Prussian-esque Perkunisha and the Anglo-Nordic Blodland, the latter in alliance with Eastern Europe states whose people seem to be Amerinds. Both sides are aware of these strange visitors and want the technology of their planes to tip the tide in the war.

(As an aside, Two Hawks names this world "Earth 2", which is how I will refer to it going forward. As he makes mention of comic books in the text, I am assuming this a reference to the Earth 2 seen in National Comics' Flash and Justice League of America.)

Earth 2 is built on an interesting premise: what if America had remained largely underwater? A lesser writer would probably do something like all of Europe submerged into a conflict of the totalitarian states of England and France, with the brave American outlander teaching the people the true value of democracy and leading them in a revolution, where he becomes the first president of the United States of Europe.

But not Farmer; he thinks things through in much greater detail. He considers how language and culture would change, the Amerind states that would exist in Europe and Asia, the weather patterns from the differing position of the Gulf Stream and much more. As Farmer posits what is missing from the Earth 2 without the Americas, he shows how pivotal the American continent has been to world history in a vast number of ways. In doing so he creates one of his most fleshed out worlds.

Two Hawks avoids being the kind of cliché you might find in, for example, a Mack Reynolds story. He says he is as much a part of mainstream White American culture as he is Iroquoian. And he regularly rejects people’s assumptions of him, such as believing he grew up on a reservation. His knowledge is of mechanics, history and science, not the kind of spiritual and earthy traditional you usually see depicted in Amerind characters.

Whilst, by necessity, large parts of the plot are told through long conversations about the nature of Earth 2 and how it compares to Earth 1 (Two Hawks’ Earth), I never found myself being bogged down. This is a pacey thriller where I was constantly engaged and wanting to know what happened next.

This does lead to my most major issue with the text: the simplicity of plot at times. Once you get past the differences in the world, it is largely a pulpy World War Two adventure. We have Germans (by geography if not ethnicity) who are committing genocidal acts against Eastern European populations and the British fighting them. Two Hawks allies with the British stand ins, not out of some moral sense (he says he doesn’t really think there is that much difference between nations in this world) but instead because he just doesn’t like Germans. At the same time the imported German pilot, Raske, is an opportunistic villain not given any more depth than being a tricky antagonist for Two Hawks.

Farmer would also have us believe history aligns on other Earths. If things are so different, why was there also a First World War where the Perkunishans were defeated? Why does Blodland have Dravidian (Indian) bases? Why are languages so similar between the Earths? The reason just seems to be, “because”.

I don’t want to be overly harsh. There is still a lot to like. I want to also note the framing device, which is used to pull off a final twist to great effect. The only other time I can think of a similar device being used is in Pierre Boulle’s Monkey Planet.

All of this adds up to another fantastic entry in Farmer’s bibliography.

On the Other Side of the Wall

But, to return to my original question: what is it that holds together the disparate threads of Farmers fiction? I think it is the worlds themselves. Earth 2 in The Gate of Time is just as well conceived and memorable as Riverworld or Okeanas.

As such I hope we get more tales in this setting. Whether that be Two Hawks visiting more timelines, or just more of the history of Earth 2.

A solid four stars


Planet of Exile by Ursula K. LeGuin


by Jason Sacks

Imagine a world that has been colonized – but the colonizers have lived on that world so long that their descendents have nearly forgotten their original roots.

And imagine those colonizers have the ability to communicate with each other using a kind of telepathy that always keeps them in contact with each other.

And imagine a world with a sixty-year rotation around its sun, a rotation so slow that seasons take years in our time. In fact, it's a rotation so slow that grown adults have no idea what winter will be like and have never seen snow.

And imagine on that world, there are groups who are at war with each other for the limited resources on that planet. And that the colonizers are caught in the middle of that war.

And finally, imagine an independent local woman and a passionate colonist meet, become fascinated with each other, get married impulsively, and become embroiled in a war.

Sounds like the recipe for a 400-page book, right?

And yet Ursula K. LeGuin creates a whole. compelling, intriguing  world in a mere 125 pages in Planet of Exile.

Earlier this year I enthused over LeGuin's debut novel Rocannon's World, praising the author for her strengths in building a complex fictional environment and for bridging the gap between fantasy and science fiction. Planet of Exile builds on those strengths, taking readers to a world that seems vivid on the page, with complex interrelationships, intriguing characters and a background which seems to go back hundreds of years.

LeGuin smartly starts the book by anchoring readers in the experiences of the independent woman, Rolery, who is wandering through a forest at the "last moonphase of autumn"  (as LeGuin states it) and is startled by a barefoot runner dashing through the woods towards her native town of Tovar. But Rolery goes the opposite direction, towards the village of the "farborn"; forbidden, mysterious, a place she could scarcely imagine but which holds great fascination for her. In that farborn village, she meets a farborn man named Jacob Agat whose life changes her and changes the city of Tovar.

Planet of Exile is an odd book in part because this relationship feels so insubstantial and unreal. This mismatched couple don't fall in love as much as they fall into admiration, or caring, or simply desperately feel the need for deep companionship. Lesser writers might have created a simple Romeo and Juliet type relationship between Rolery and Agat. But LeGuin's ambitions seem well beyond the obvious cliché and instead she explores more complex ideas like assimilation, battles for resources, and the complex struggles to thrive in an alien environment.

If LeGuin merely touches upon those ideas rather than dwells on them, well, blame that on the page length and consider this young author may merely need to grow into fully exploring these concepts.

Ms. LeGuin

About half this book is taken up with the battles between the barbaric nomads, the Gaal, and the people of Tevara. The battles are often seen as slivers, in fragments, through the eyes of the different characters of this book rather than in omniscient form. As such, the events feel extraordinarily vivid. I was deeply struck by a scene of the invading Gaal force and their supporters so large they filled one large valley from end to end, with more of them coming. And a rooftop battle reflected a wonderful combination of Errol Flynn style derring-do and alien landscapes.

All of this thoughtful inventiveness makes for a tremendously entertaining and tremendously dense read, accentuated by LeGuin's empathetic and often poetic writing which has a fantastic knack for bringing alien situations to life. There's a kind of ecstatic forward-hurtling beauty in a paragraph like this one that had me entranced:

She the stranger, the foreigner, of alien blood and mind, did not share his power or his conscience or his knowledge or his exile. She shared nothing at all with him, but had met him and joined with him wholly and immediately across the gulf of thier great difference: as if it were the difference, the alienness between them, that let them meet, and that in joining together, freed them.

Ultimately, Planet of Exile is a novel of aspirations not quite met. War is fought and attacks repelled at great cost.  Relationships start but never reach an emotionally satisfying happy ending. Many complex questions are raised but never quite answered. And the character of Rolery is intriguing in her independence and agency, in her impulsive decisions and her steadfast curiousity, but she never becomes the three-dimensional character LeGuin obviously saw in her mind.

I concluded my review of Ms. LeGuin's earlier novel with a wish to read more novels that would realize the promise of this exciting new author. I am left now in a similar position, albeit perhaps closer to that realization.

3.5 stars

[Note: the flip side of this Double, Mankind Under the Leash, is an expansion of the 1965 story White Fang Goes Dingo (Ed.)]






[September 10, 1966] Bon appetit! (this month's Galactoscope)


by Victoria Silverwolf

What's Space Opera, Doc?
with apologies to Chuck Jones

There are many different kinds of science fiction stories. Time travel, future societies, parallel worlds, and so on. When most people think of science fiction, however, they probably imagine tales set in outer space.

I recently came across three new works of SF that might be called space opera. Although all of them feature adventures set, at least partly, on planets orbiting distant stars, they are quite different from one another. For one thing, they vary in length. Let's take a look at them, from shortest to longest.

A Three-Course Literary Meal

First up is a light appetizer from a prolific British author who has already won quite a bit of praise from Galactic Journeyers. His creations are almost always competent, at least, and sometimes outstanding.

A Planet of Your Own, by John Brunner


Cover art by Jack Gaughan.

As you can tell, this is one part of an Ace Double. I almost said half of an Ace Double, but it takes up much less than fifty percent of the book. Well under one hundred pages in length, with plenty of white space between chapters, it's really a novella rather than the Complete Novel bragged about on the cover.

Our protagonist is a woman named Kynance Foy.

Wait a minute. That sounds familiar. Let me dig through some old magazines and figure this out.

I knew it! A Planet of Your Own was previously published in Worlds of If just a few months ago under the title The Long Way to Earth, and reviewed by my esteemed colleague David Levinson. I've taken a look at both versions. If there's any difference at all, it must be very minor.


Cover art by Hector Castellon. It's still not a complete short novel.

Anyway, Kynance is stuck on a planet with no money and few prospects for getting back to Earth. The company that supplies so-called pelts from another world offers her a job that sounds too good to be true. (The extremely expensive pelts are actually vegetable matter that changes color and produces pleasant aromas.)

All she has to do is stay alone on the pelt planet for a year, so the company can maintain its claim. In exchange, she'll get a fortune in cash and a free ride to Earth.

Of course, there's a catch. Nobody has ever been able to avoid violating the company's rules, so they get tossed out without payment, and are expected to die on the uninviting world of pelts. However, a few previous employees have managed to survive, barely managing to feed themselves on the plant life that covers the entire watery planet.

These poor guys make their way to the company's station, where Kynance violates her contract by waving at them. (The evil corporation has very strict rules.) Is she doomed to the same ghastly fate as the other ex-employees?

This is an enjoyable story, maybe not groundbreaking but certainly engaging. The heroine is appealing, and the way she uses her knowledge of the law is clever.

Four stars.

After our palate has been sharpened by this hors d'oeuvre, even if we've tasted it before, let's flip over the book and savor something a little bit more substantial. (Soup or salad?)

The Beasts of Kohl, by John Rackham


Another cover by Jack Gaughan.

Another British writer supplies the larger part of this Ace Double. John Rackham is the pen name of John T. Phillifent. He's mostly been published in British magazines, although he's also shared a couple of Ace Doubles prior to this one. The phrase First Book Publication makes me wonder if this novel appeared in some magazine somewhere, but I can find no evidence for that.

Our hero is a fellow called Rang. (I'll try to avoid You Rang? jokes.) We first meet him hunting a six-legged beast on an eternally stormy planet with three suns. Helping him are an enormous bird of prey and a gigantic canine. This unlikely trio are the title beasts.

Kohl is a huge, sea-dwelling, tentacled alien. He collects species from various planets, including Rang and his friends. Kohl comes to realize that Rang is more than just an animal, so he offers to send him back to Earth, from which he was taken when he was a small child. Rang is happy living with Kohl in an underwater shelter, but Kohl insists that he visit his home world first and then decide whether to stay there instead.

Accompanying Kohl, Rang, the bird, and the dog, is a woman called Rana. (First rule of science fiction nomenclature: Female names have to end with the letter a.) She's one of the beasts of another member of Kohl's species, and is a little wilder than Rang.

Once their spaceship lands in the ocean on Earth, Kohl casually mentions the fact that, due to time dilation at speeds near those of light, about one hundred thousand years have gone by since Rang and Rana were last on Earth. We find out that they're Cro-Magnons, and they're now in the modern world.

(There are a few hints that this is the future, but for the most part it might as well be 1966.)

The two fish-out-of-water and their giant pets get mixed up with a genius who earns large amounts of money for offering his opinions; his secretary, who carries a torch for him; a film maker working on a documentary about the genius; the greedy financial manager of the genius; and some other folks. This part of the novel offers a satiric look at today's society through the eyes of the visitors.

When the manager arranges to have the genius meet a couple of Soviet agents, the book turns into a spy thriller, with Rang in the role of a primitive James Bond. (Rana does her fair share of beating up the bad guys as well.) It all leads up to a car/helicopter/submarine chase, with some vital help from Kohl, who remains in the underwater spaceship.

It's not a bad yarn, if you're willing to put up with the changes in mood from drama to comedy to adventure. The romance between the genius and the secretary is a little corny, with each of them attracted to the other but not saying anything about it until the end. You might agree with Rang and Rana that modern people are badly mixed up in their minds about logic and emotion.

Three stars.

Grab your steak knife and get ready to dig into the main course.

The Solarians, by Norman Spinrad


Anonymous but rather accurate cover art.

Here's the first novel from a new author who has shown up in various magazines for a couple of years. It starts off in true space opera form, with a fleet of human spaceships engaging in battle with a relentless enemy intent on extermination. The humans are outnumbered by the ruthless Duglaari, so the commander of the fleet beats a hasty retreat, abandoning a human colony world to their foes.

The war has been going on for centuries, and the humans are slowly losing. Their only hope is the nearly legendary home world. The solar system has been cut off from the many other human planets for about three hundred years. The inhabitants of humanity's place of origin are supposed to show up and defeat the enemy with a secret weapon.

The commander of the defeated fleet happens to be reporting to his superior officer when these so-called Solarians arrive. Instead of a huge number of warships, only a small vessel appears. It carries three men and three women, which seems hardly enough to turn the tide of battle.

The six Solarians have various psychic powers, from telepathy to the ability to control another's body. This is obviously a great advantage, but it still seems impossible that they would be able to wrest victory from the jaws of defeat.

Their outrageous plan is to travel to the Duglaari home world, and offer terms of surrender. Through sheer force of personality, aided by demonstration of their powers, they manage to convince the officer in charge to send the commander with them as a supposed ambassador from the human worlds.

The commander is suspicious of their motives. He is also uncomfortable about their lifestyle. The half-dozen Solarians live in a group that isn't quite a family, but something like one. One of the women openly offers to have sex with him, although she's in love with one of the men, and the fellow she loves isn't jealous at all. The commander eventually learns to accept this new way of relating to other people during the long trip to the Duglaari planet.

That changes when he thinks the Solarians have double-crossed him, by offering the Duglaari the chance to destroy the rest of humanity if they'll leave the solar system alone. Although the Duglaari reject this offer, the commander imagines himself surrounded by traitors as their spaceship heads back to Earth. Of course, the reader is aware that the Solarians have something up their sleeve.

The combination of classic space opera with sociological science fiction, in the form of the Solarians' way of life, is intriguing. There's a climax that's spectacular in its scale, but you'll probably see it coming. The novel is quite talky, and all the human characters sound about the same. The aliens are interesting. Overall, it's a decent first novel, if not great.

Three stars.


What's For Dessert?

After that hefty triple offering, you're probably in the mood for something a little lighter to clear the palate, although still featuring heroic space adventures.


by Jason Sacks

Thief of Llarn, by Gardner F. Fox

Thief of Llarn is the third or fourth book written by Gardner Fox that I’ve written about for this fanzine, and a pattern has definitely emerged in terms of the man’s work. The fabulous Mr. Fox is just fine at delivering solid, exciting, comic-booky sci-fi filled with traditional action and adventure. Every novel of his that I’ve read is a delightful but shallow page turner, with plenty of swashbuckling Flash Gordon action but little character depth or new wave insights. He’s more like early Heinlein than later Heinlein, so to speak.

Which isn’t a bad thing, and Fox’s latest short novel, Thief of Llarn, fits comfortably in his oeuvre. It stars a larger-than-life lead character who seems like a DC superhero, say someone like Adam Strange. Thief of Llarn features breathtaking escapes and horrific villains and a never-ending journey across a planet and beautiful princesses, yeah yeah yeah I see your head nodding and yep we’ve all seen this sort of thing before but that derivativeness is sort of the point of the work.

Thief of Llarn sat comfortably in my local Woolworth’s next to novels by Rice Burroughs and (ugh) Lin Carter, with Tarzan and Conan and Thongor all pleasant peers to Fox’s protagonist Alan Morgan in their delivery of high adventure and traditional heroism. All swashes are buckled, all heroes are wise, all thieves are rogues, and all planets are explored. This novel gives 40¢ worth of thrills and earned the author a few hundred dollars in payment from publisher Ace Novels, and that’s a transaction which benefited everybody. It's a workmanlike novel, but that's kind of the point.

I enjoyed this book precisely as much as I wanted to. There are exciting time travel elements, thrilling escapes from dark castles, journeys across arctic wastelands, a brilliant guild of thieves and some astonishing cars gliding across the skies. We get strange variations on polar bears, a doddering Cthulhu type creature, a murder fortress and a Disney style castle. We have a hero who doesn’t introspect too much, some fighting companions of his who are of mixed genders, and even an ending that allows our hero to love two women without two-timing either of them. It’s 146 thoroughly solid pages that acts as a delivery mechanism for a story which will delight any fan of traditional planets and sorcery sci-fi.

If Llarn doesn’t have the literary merits of the works of Zelazny or Moorcock or even Leiber, that’s just fine, and those limits should be part of our expectations. Mr. Fox has a side job writing for the rather staid National Comics on series like Adam Strange, Justice League of America, The Spectre, The Atom and Tomahawk.  Alan Morgan could have come right out of any of those series. And on top of his comic book work, Fox also finds time to write four novels per year. Talk about a man chained to his typewriter! Gardner Fox is a working writer delivering excitement at 35¢ a pop – and I’m just fine with that.

3 stars


After Dinner Coffee

Wrapping things up, how about a nice warm cup of java to go with that dessert?


by Gideon Marcus

The Scheme of Things, by Lester Del Rey

Lester Del Rey has been one of the most prolific writers of science fiction over the last thirty years. He started in the pulps, and he's never really stopped (though he had a slow patch a few years ago).

His latest novel is with a quite new publisher: Belmont. They've been prolific since their establishment ~1960, though their line is confined mostly to anthologies and a small stable of authors. I think this is Del Rey's first book with them.

It opens with a bang. Mike Strong is an Assistant Professor of Logic at "Kane University" somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic. At the tail end of a typical class, he is suddenly visited by a vision, transported to another world entirely, though just for a moment.

So begins an increasingly disjointed existence. By turns, he finds himself in the bodies of countless alternate Mikes: the husband of an adulterous actress, fixer for the Mob, leader of a ragtag group of refugees following a nuclear war, and on and on. The only common element is Mike, and the fact that he always returns to "the real world". And to the waiting, patient ear of Paul Bender, a former soldier-of-fortune and fellow faculty member, who serves as Mike's anchor and sounding board.

Is Mike actually plane-trotting? Are his lives connected? And what awaits him if any of his alter egos die?

Scheme is the sort of book that, in the hands of someone less skilled, could have been potboiling mediocrity. Instead, Del Rey makes each of the realities, each Mike, independently interesting. The book almost feels like the other, yet-unwritten, half of The Man in the High Castle. Its threads weave together into an interesting discourse on the difference between consciousness and awareness. Plus, it's a riveting, quick read.

I don't know if it'll be a candidate for next year's Hugo, but it certainly is a feather in the growing Belmont cap.

Four stars.






[September 4, 1966] British Science Fiction Lives! (Alien Worlds #1 & New Writings in SF #9)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Move over James Bond and John Steed, there is a new dashing science fictional spy on the scene. I am of course referring to the latest hit from the team behind Doctor Who: Adam Adamant Lives!

Adam Adamant Lives

An old-fashioned Victorian swashbuckling hero, Adam Adamant is frozen by a masked supervillain and buried under London. After being found by a construction crew, he finds himself resurrected in the strange world of London in 1966. Teaming up with a young mod woman named Georgina Jones, they solve unusual crimes such as satanic aristocrats or a soap manufacturer drugging the nation with plastic flowers.

However, it is not just Adam Adamant who is returning from hibernation. An old science fiction magazine is returning to the print.

A Brief History of the British SF Magazine

Tales of Wonder

Unlike in the US, the UK did not have many SF specific publications before the war, with Walter Gillings' Tales of Wonder being a notable exception. After the war, Carnell, along with a group of other SF professionals, formed Nova publications and turned the former fanzine New Worlds into a professional magazine, beginning the market as we know it today.

British Science Fiction Magazine, Futuristic Science Stories, Authentic Science Fiction, Nebula Science Fiction
A few of the many former British SF Magazines

As in America, during the magazine boom of the 50s there were numerous UK science fiction magazines but like their American counterparts these too disappeared as the decade wore on. When Scotland’s premier SF magazine Nebula finally went under in 1959, the UK market was only left with Carnell’s trio of New Worlds, Science Fantasy and Science Fiction Adventures. And when he decided to step away from them it looked like the British market might disappear.

New Worlds, Science Fantasy, Science Fiction Adventures
What remained of British SF Magazines by 1960

However, recently this decline has been reversed. Whilst the US SF short fiction markets published around 750 pages of original fiction in July, the British equivalents managed around 450, for a country with only about a quarter of the people. Partially this is due to the continued success of New Worlds and Impulse, which have been able to go monthly and increase their page count. It is also due to other publications from the end of July; the latest New Writings anthology (which I will address shortly) and a new magazine entering the market, Alien Worlds.

The Former Fanzine

Alien Worlds Fanzine issue 15
Alien Worlds Fanzine issue 15

Much like the early New Worlds, Alien Worlds (previously titled Alien) was a British fanzine also featuring film details and some fiction. Last year at Eastercon, editors Harry Nadler and Charles Partington talked to various authors and artists about the possibility of a new professional fiction magazine with full colour illustrations. The result is the new Alien Worlds.

Alien Worlds: Semi Professional or Gifted Amateur?

Alien Worlds #1

I think we need to take a brief moment to talk about the design of this. It is not in the pocketbook style we see in the other British publications, rather a stapled higher end fanzine with colour offset litho printing. The text also looks like it is hand-typed with the occasional mistakes you would expect from an amateur publication. Perhaps a new term is warranted. “Semiprozine”? Doesn't quite roll off the tongue…

Looking inside:

Editorial

Inside Cover

Here Partington and Nadler lay out their complaints of the SF magazine genre. Namely that whilst everything else “from women’s weeklies to ‘build up’ encyclopedias” use full colour illustrations, science fiction publications simply look dull. They hope that Alien Worlds will change that with exciting artwork throughout and therefore make the most use of science fiction’s potential. It is an interesting point, albeit the counter argument is that it costs a lot more to do full colour art and you have to sacrifice space that could be better spent on words. But, then again, if the saying is correct that a picture is worth a thousand words, is this not also economical? It is not an argument I have thought about in depth but is certainly an interesting gauntlet to lay down.

Contact Man by Harry Harrison

Contact Man

Harrison is probably the most well-known contributor to the magazine, recently for his satirical Bill the Galactic Hero. Here he gives us another take on the Starship Troopers style of militaristic SF.

Chesney was found guilty of rebelling against the Admiral-Emperor, the military dictator of Earth, and was given a choice, the death penalty or service in the military. Choosing to sign-up he is made a contact man, whose role is to find natives on new planets and exterminate their villages.

Compared to relative zaniness of Bill, Contact Man is truly brutal. It gives an Orwellian take on militarism, positing a future where the “kill or be killed” mentality is extended to where people’s choices are genocide or suicide.

Disturbing but very worthy. Four Stars

Ken Slater’s Book Column

Slater is a major British fan personality probably best known for being one of the co-founders of the BSFA and producing Vector’s regular column on bookselling, General Chuntering.

In this column, he spends some time stating that this is a “book review column” and laying out his disdain for the field of literary criticism. He holds that the reviewer should simply lay out the facts of the book, if they liked it and possibly why “without being deeply Freudian or whatever.” He then goes on to state that he enjoyed Dobson’s two recent publications, Interstellar 2.5 by John Rankine and New Writings in SF 9 (reviewed below), whilst giving reasonably detailed summaries of the books. Personally, I do not find his style of reviewing that useful as I would rather be surprised by the plot and instead know why the reviewer did or did not enjoy it in depth. But perhaps there are a lot of Ken Slaters out there?

Flash by Allan Asherman

Terry Jeeves Rocket

A summary of the 1936 film serial Flash Gordon along with some set photos. I guess this might be useful for some as reference material if they have never seen the picture but, honestly, it feels superfluous.

Two Stars

Not Human by Ken Bulmer

Not Human

There is currently a major war between the Terrans and Reldans. Johnny Dent is crushed under a spaceship on the battlefield and will come to understand how far humanity needs to go to defeat the Terrans.

It is very curious they chose to put two such similar stories in the same issue. Of the two, this suffers in comparison to the Harrison. Not Human is over described, feeling less intense and bordering on pulpy.

Two Stars

1 Million Years BC

A small description of the upcoming film, two photos from it and (what I assume are) two pieces of concept art. Less an article and more an advertisement.

Two Stars

The Childish Fear by J. Ramsey Campbell

Childish Fear

J. Ramsey Campbell is a new name to me, but he has apparently had several pieces published by Derleth’s Arkham House imprint. This story convinces me he is one to watch.

In 1960 our narrator begins to become fascinated with horror films, particularly those from Hammer. They spend much of their time going to see them, but they begin to be frustrated with the disturbances from the rest of the audiences. Is it just teenagers or something more sinister?

The fantasy elements are almost tangential to this, it is one of those horror tales where it could be all in the lead’s mind. However, that does not make it any less atmospheric or interesting. As someone else who loves watching Hammer Horror films, it is great to see this creepy take on the cinematic experience.

Four Stars

The Vampire
Illustrating titular leads from, clockwise from top left: Brides of Dracula, Dracula (1958), Dracula (1931), House of Dracula, Nosferatu, Dracula in Istanbul, El Vampiro

2001: A Space Odyssey

2001: A Space Odyssey is probably the most anticipated science fiction film at the moment, scheduled for release in early 1967 (whilst the book is meant to be coming out from Gollancz imminently). This short piece gives some nice insights into the behind the scenes, although it is very short.

Three Stars

In Conclusion

Textless Back Cover
Textless version of the front cover on the rear

Whilst not amazing, this is also not a terrible start for this short magazine. It contains an interesting mix of fact, fiction and illustrations, and certainly achieves its aim of never looking boring.

One of the biggest problems that needs to be mentioned is the cost. Not having the backing of any major publishers and relying on fan distribution networks, the cost is 2/6 for just 63 pages. By comparison New Worlds cost 3/6 for almost triple the length. If the publication is to continue, they are going to need to work out a way to achieve the economies of scale needed to get a price point that is efficient for the consumer without compromising the ideas behind the magazine.

New Writings in SF 9

New Writings 9

In stark contrast to Alien Worlds, New Writings stubbornly sticks to its unappealing covers, with Carnell instead concentrating on the contents. This quarter’s edition is focused on the problem of overpopulation, which seems to have become the idea of the moment. But what do Carnell’s crew make of it?

Poseidon Project by John Rackham

In this story, the best option for an overpopulated humanity’s future is to be able to live on the seabed. Much like the SEALAB experiments, a group of scientists are selected to live in an isolated habitat underwater. However, in this case it is a large and varied community for an entire year, with each of them paired off into married couples to better simulate future conditions. We follow Peter Sentry six months into the experiment, where he begins to wonder if the isolated conditions are causing psychological issues for some of those in charge.

This is quite old fashioned in its style, acting as an optimistic problem story. Each event is treated as a problem that can be resolved scientifically and a rational outlook can overcome any problem caused by humans. It is an interesting contrast to all the technophobic computer tales and apocalyptic visions of our future we are reading today.

It has one major flaw, however. For a story centered around psychology, Rackham does not fully develop his characters. They all feel like stock cliches. In particular the women characters fall far short. As such it ends up being much more of a surface level tale than it would otherwise have been with a little more depth added (puns-intended).

This could have been an interesting take on this theme, instead I will settle on giving it two stars.

Folly to Be Wise by Douglas R. Mason

Two partnered cave people, Zara and Kaalba, discover a spherical craft in the water. Inside they find a highly powerful and knowledgeable android, who Zara names Tros. Tros shares stories of humans who were able to build vast cities and travel to the stars. Zara wants to take it back to the tribe and use its knowledge, Kaalba is more wary of the android.

I found the story badly written, a cliched topic, and anti-feminist. Save yourself time and avoid it!

One star

Gifts of the Gods by Arthur Sellings

Sellings has not appeared in the New Writings anthologies before but has been in New Worlds several times, as well as being a successful author of SF novels.

In this piece, Brian Dudley and his wife Gwen have moved to the new town of Framley. In their garden Gwen finds a series of strange metal objects, shaped like skittles. After failing to turn up anything interesting in analysis he sells them to a local art dealer. More and more strange objects start appearing in town in larger and larger quantities. What could be causing these mysterious appearances?

There seems to be an interesting little subgenre appearing in the New Writings pages of late, telling of unnerving goings-on in the new towns. A kind of “Exurban Uncanny”. This is an excellent example of it, the premise is unusual enough to keep you intrigued and the end twist was a great one that I did not expect.

Four Stars

The Long Memory by William Spencer

Based in a future metropolis of ten billion people known only as the City, crime has been eliminated through the use of constant surveillance. The cost, however, is that this level of surveillance required on every citizen means that size of the records keeps increasing, and housing size is thus continually reduced as more space is made to store the recording tape of every person’s actions. Harben monitors the storage and equipment but appears to come across an underground conspiracy to destroy all the records.

There are definitely good parts to this story and the world is original. However, it also never quite feels like it elevates itself above an absurdist satire within the short word count.

Three Stars

Guardian Angel by Gerald W. Page

Returning after his excellent creepy tale in the last edition, Page gives us a tale of art and humanity.

Douglas Copeland is a very successful painter, and, like most rich people, he shares his home with a Guardian Angel, an AI known as Peter. Following the advice of Peter, Douglas has made a very successful career out of painting cogs. However, he is getting bored of the same design over and over again. When he meets a young woman named Philomene she convinces him to paint her, allowing Douglas to find a new passion in the human form. Peter, however, is not happy with this change.

This starts off well as an interesting debate on art and rationality. However, as it goes on it just fizzles out. Still, it is well written and very vivid tale.

Three Stars

Second Genesis by Eric Frank Russell

Second Genesis
The prior appearances of Second Genesis

Our first reprint tale in over a year. This one, from the famed author’s back catalogue, was first published in Blue Book in 1952 and then reprinted in his first collection, Deep Space. Neither has been available for some time so this will be many people’s first reading of it. Unfortunately, there may be good reason it has been largely forgotten.

Arthur Jerrold is to take part in a space voyage around the solar system that will take him mere moments, but two thousand years will pass outside. If he survives the journey, he is to return to wherever humans are in the solar system so they can collect the results of the experiment. However, that may be harder than he realized.
You can probably guess where this is going. It is such an old cliché some editors have included it on lists of stories they will not accept. It is fairly told but nothing special.

Two Stars

Defence Mechanism by Vincent King

Finally New Writings has brought in a new writer!
To the best of my knowledge this is Vincent King’s first published work and, based on this, I very much hope it is not his last.

In the City, society has broken down into a series of small family tribes. They fight each other through the Corridors (common nouns referring to places are sometimes capitalized and sometimes not, I cannot quite work out the pattern) for territory and resources. At the same time, they have to deal with threats from Aliens coming in from the lower Levels and the Green beyond the Edge.

Our unnamed narrator has heard Aliens are coming back so organizes a hunt to track them down. Enroute, he encounters a tribe of Dwarfs (they seem to be just shorter people but this is how our narrator refers to them). The two groups discover that they are both suffering from issues of inbreeding and agree to women mating between the tribes. As the hunt continues it goes to areas beyond the order of the standard Corridors and our narrator is the only one willing to travel onward. In doing so he will discover the truth behind the City and the Aliens.

This is a story that is in the telling. Many of the revelations I had expected but, by putting it through our narrator’s perspective, it allowed me to explore a fantastical world and come to interesting conclusions. It ends up falling halfway between a "Dying Earth" style adventure and Pohl-esque satire. My favorite story in the collection and one that will stick with me for a while.

Five Stars

Summing up

Overall, this is a pretty good edition of the anthology with both a four and a five-star story and only a couple of shorter pieces being poor. The biggest issue is a certain level of chauvinism in some of the writing, which is probably not aided by some of Carnell’s introduction and the lack of any women authors in the series so far.

Adam Adamant Lives Titlecard

Between these two publications they have more good than bad in them, continuing to show there is new life in British Science Fiction yet.



Tune in to KGJ, our radio station! Nothing but the newest and best hits!




[August 18th, 1966] Reawakening the Inner Child (Black and Blue Magic)

by Robin Rose Graves

When my young niece came to visit last month, I immediately ran to my bookshelf, perusing some browning pages I’ve kept since childhood. Stories that had fed my growing imagination that I longed to pass along to my niece. My excitement was quickly doused. Of the titles I picked, none were suitable for a young girl of eight years old. I’m afraid I am terribly out of touch with the milestones of childhood, having no kids of my own, nor plans to have any. Perhaps I needed to forget about the outdated stories I’ve loved and turn my attention to more modern titles.

Zilpha Keatley Snyder is a name that has recently come to my attention. While I missed out on her first two publications, Season of Ponies and The Velvet Room, I decided to give her most recent book, Black and Blue Magic, a chance. The clincher was that the main character is named Harry Houdini Marco.

As a child I gobbled up any sort of book about Harry Houdini. Magicians were the closest thing to actual magic and perhaps a small part of me believed if I mastered the art, I would become magical. However, my plans were foiled by my awkward co-ordination and fear of public speaking. The former, the main character and I have in common. Hence the title: “Black and Blue Magic.”

Harry Houdini, the Magician…not our child protagonist

Harry Houdini Marco was named thus by his talented magician father, who hoped young Harry would grow up to be the greatest magician of all time. What added to his high expectations was a prediction that Harry would possess a most unique type of magic — something Harry’s dad interpreted as proof that his wish would come true.

Now that his father has passed, Harry lives with his mother in a boarding house she runs. He still feels pressure to measure up to his dad’s dreams for him, but Harry has given up on trying to learn magic. As summer starts, he laments over how boring it will be with his best friend moving to another neighborhood and his Mom’s plans to treat them to a vacation having been foiled by a tenant moving out. More than anything, Harry wants his mom to find love and remarry, so she won't have to work so hard. He also dreams of leaving San Francisco behind and living on a farm.

Harry’s luck changes when he encounters a strange and clumsy man. After the man accidentally leaves his suitcase behind, Harry carries the case back to him and offers him lodging at the boarding house.

Days later, Harry is surprised to find the man has accepted his invitation. After a few nights of spying on him, Harry discovers Mr. Mazeeck is more than just a salesman — he’s also a once powerful, now disgraced and cursed wizard who sells magical items. After all the help Harry has given Mr. Mazeeck, the wizard thanks him by giving Harry an item from his suitcase — a small potion that when applied to his back and the magic words are uttered, allows Harry to sprout wings.

Just because Harry has wings doesn't mean he's any less clumsy

With his newfound magic, Harry spends every night of summer flying around San Francisco. He has misadventures each night such as landing in the monkey exhibit at the zoo only to be chased away by the animals, being mistaken as an angel by a drunkard, and stepping in to stop the corner store from being robbed. Without meaning to, Harry impacts the lives around him for the better. After sighting Harry, the drunkard quits drinking, and a grouchy neighbor turns kind after thinking an angel has been landing on her roof.

But as summer nears its end, Harry has yet to figure out how to set his mom up with one of the kindly residents. And his potion is about to run out…

Harry as a character is extremely likeable. He is average and unremarkable, yet incredibly altruistic with his newfound magic. Harry never passes up the opportunity to help another out. Like ripples, his actions unintentionally bring good to those around him.

While an upstanding example of a kid, he does not come across as unrealistic. He chases what he finds fun and has a sense of humor, which he shares with both his mom and the man he wants her to marry. Scenes between the two, and later, the three of them are warm and charming. The story truly made me believe that Harry loves his mom and wants what’s best for her — his hope that she can marry and no longer have to work the boarding house surpasses his desire to leave the city.

This book has the excellent message that our actions, what we do for those around us, matter. There is just a touch of magic added to give the story wonder; the desire to fly is just as human a quality as loving and helping one another.

Zilpha Keatley Snyder

While speeding through the book in two days, I can imagine this will be a book to be read one chapter a night to children. Each chapter is a small adventure. Though they sometimes leave off on a cliffhanger, these are quickly resolved within the first lines of the next chapter, defusing the tension. For example, one chapter ends with Mr. Mazeeck telling Harry that next time he’ll be in the city, Harry will be dead. This raised many exciting questions in my mind. Is this a warning that disaster is coming for San Francisco? Does Harry have an enemy that will soon emerge? Then I turned the page to the next chapter, and Mr. Mazeeck explains that this is because he’ll next visit San Francisco in 200 years. Being that Mr. Mazeeck is a wizard with a longer lifespan, he’ll simply outlive Harry by the next time he’ll visit. It's a simple explanation that quickly ruins any sort of tension created in the chapter before.

I understand, to some extent, why it’s written this way. In-between the question being raised and the answer quickly given, my head swam with imagination. It transported me back to my childhood, when ending the night on a cliffhanger chapter would fill me with wonder as I churned over ideas in my mind of where the story would go next, only too eager for the next night to read more. Such things incite imagination, one of the purposes of reading as a child. I did find it to be a let down with this book when the actual answer was rather bland compared to my own assumptions.

Nevertheless, it’s the ending that brought the book together for me. It is as sweet and full of wonder as the rest of the book, and brings several plot points spread throughout to a close in a more than satisfying way. Black and Blue Magic left me feeling happy and spoke to the inner child. I think it will be a more than suitable read for my niece, as well as something that will hold the test of time.

4 out of 5 stars.




[August 16, 1966] All Shook Up (Catastrophe Planet by Keith Laumer)


by Victoria Silverwolf

With apologies to Elvis Presley.

Retief and Company

Prolific author Keith Laumer was born in Syracuse, New York, in 1925. He served in the United States Army Air Forces during World War Two, then in the renamed US Air Force from 1953 to 1956, and again from 1960 to 1965, reaching the rank of captain. Between those latter two hitches in the military, he was with the US Foreign Service, stationed in Burma.


Appropriately, this recent photograph makes the writer look both serious and playful.

Laumer's time spent as a diplomat shows up in his many stories about James Retief, an agent for the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne, who tends to solve problems of interspecies relations with fists and trickery. These are comic tales, often venturing into slapstick. On a more serious note, his recent mainstream novel Embassy reflects his experiences in the Far East.


Cover art by Darrell Greene.

In addition to these works, he also writes fast-paced adventure stories, both serious and lighthearted. His new novel Catastrophe Planet is definitely one of the former.

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On


Cover art by Richard Powers.

Our hero and narrator is Malcome (Mal) Irish. He lives in a near future of flying cars and other such technological wonders. More importantly, a shift in the Earth's crust has led to worldwide disaster. There are frequent earthquakes, a enormous increase in volcanic activity, and vast changes in the world's geography. The northern part of Florida, for example, is underwater, and the southern half is an island. (At this point, I'm reminded of the pretty good science fiction movie Crack in the World, although Laumer's apocalypse doesn't actually threaten to destroy the whole planet.)

His adventure begins in a small, deserted town in Georgia. (The US state, not the Soviet republic.) A dying man tells him a bizarre tale. During a secret operation in Antarctica, designed to stop the shifting of the crust, he and other military men discovered a frozen mastodon deep under the ice. That's unusual enough, but what makes it really weird is the fact that the ancient beast was wearing a harness. Add to that the body of a Neanderthal carrying what seemed to be a ray gun, along with other seemingly impossible relics, and they had a real mystery on their hands.

Before they could explore any further, however, strange men attacked and wiped them all out, except for the dying man, who managed to escape and make his way back to the United States. Mal has to battle similar men himself. They seem to be oddly emotionless, yet relentless in their attempts to kill him. Fortunately, they are also very poor fighters, and Mal manages to eliminate them, although he's never killed anyone before. (I'll warn you right now that a lot of people get killed in this book.)

Coin of the Realm

With his last, dying breath, the man tells Mal to take something out of his pocket. It turns out to be a gold coin, inscribed with writing in an unknown language. Mal travels to Miami, where he stays at the luxury hotel run by an old friend. (Although the city has undergone some damage from the disaster, it is fairly intact, and life goes on almost as it did before.) There's a convention of numismatists going on at the place, so he shows them the mysterious coin. It's pretty clear that this is more than just a meeting of coin collectors. They are all middle-aged men (likely enough), seem to have no interest in the partying at the convention (improbable), and are oddly emotionless (sounds familiar).

Damsel in Distress

Mal tails some of the men, and winds up saving a woman they try to attack. (She's a tough cookie herself, and manages to save him, too.) She speaks an unknown language, wears a strange metallic jumpsuit, and seems unacquainted with certain aspects of everyday life. (She doesn't recognize bread as food, for example.) Mal manages to figure out that her name is Ricia. They hide out in a cheap hotel for a while, where he also learns that she doesn't mind being completely naked in front of him.

While Mal is out on an errand, the bad guys kidnap Ricia. Desperate to track down her abductors, he heads to Crete, based on the solitary clue that the coin looks like something from that island. By good luck, he has already managed to find a seaworthy boat equipped with lots of supplies, including the guns that will come in handy in the book's battle scenes. (Mal finds the owner's corpse on the vessel, so he figures the dead guy won't mind.)

The City in the Sea

After sailing across the Atlantic, and crossing the new land bridge that now cuts the Mediterranean Sea in half, Mal meets an old buddy in Crete. With the help of a rather shifty fisherman, he finds out that some of the emotionless men paid the fellow to take them to a spot in the ocean, where they jumped in without diving suits.

Mal dons the proper scuba equipment and goes to the place, where he finds the entrance to an underwater building. Inside is a grotesquely huge man lying in a luxurious bed, protected by his slavish minions. It seems that Ricia was kidnapped for nefarious purposes, although perhaps not in the way you might expect. Mal and Ricia escape, but our story is far from over.

Out of the Wet Frying Pan and Into the Frozen Fire

Besides suffering from the bends after rising to the surface quickly, Mal gets captured by the bad guys, who have taken over the ship from which he dove. (They don't know that Ricia is hidden inside the decompression chamber of the vessel.) They take Mal to Antarctica, where he is to be subjected to questioning that he cannot resist, so they can find the woman. It all leads up to our two star-crossed lovers being reunited, and the discovery of the shocking secret of the immense ruler of the emotionless men.

Shaken, Not Stirred

Well! Our protagonists certainly go through enough dangers to shake anybody up. This rollercoaster of a thriller moves at a lightning-fast pace, with enough action to satisfy any fan of, say, James Bond. You won't have time to ponder the fact that the plot may not always make perfect sense, or that the whole thing is wildly implausible. The writing is vivid, and the hero, although highly competent, doesn't come across as unbelievably superhuman. You won't have any profound emotions stirred by the outrageous plot, but it's an enjoyable way to spend a few hours, maybe while you're sipping something to drink.

Three stars.


Shake it up, Baby!



For more exciting science fiction adventure, pick up a copy of Rosel George Brown's new hit novel, Sibyl Sue Blue, today!