Category Archives: Magazine

Science Fiction and Fantasy in print

[May 10, 1969] Youth (June 1969 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

He's No Saint

Yesterday the Vatican announced that more than forty saints have been removed from the official liturgical calendar of the Catholic Church.  How come?  Because there's some serious doubt that these holy folks ever existed.

The most famous of these former saints is Christopher, patron of travelers.  There are plenty of people with Saint Christopher medals hanging from the rear view mirrors of their cars, hoping for safe journeys.


A typical Saint Christopher medal.  Note the infant Jesus carried on his back.

The story goes that Christopher (whose name, appropriately, means Bearer of Christ) carried the baby Messiah across a river.  I guess we'll never know now how He made it.  Perhaps He crawled on water.

Long Hair Music

I'm sure that ex-Saint Christopher will continue to be associated with a divine youth.  In this modern age, what could be more associated with secular youth than the hippie movement?  The popularity of the musical Hair is proof of the cultural importance of these groovy young people.

Further evidence, if any be needed, is the fact that Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In, a medley of two songs from Hair performed by The 5th Dimension, has been Number One in the USA since the middle of April, and shows no signs of leaving that position anytime soon.


Maybe I'm prejudiced in the song's favor because I'm an Aquarius.

Bildungsroman

Fittingly, the latest issue of Fantastic is dominated by the first half of a new novel in which we see the main character develop from a child to a young adult.


Cover art by Johnny Bruck.

The cover is, as usual, borrowed from an issue of the German magazine Perry Rhodan.


What happened to the green halo around the sphere in the upper right corner?

Editorial: Don't, by Laurence M. Janifer

The associate editor tells us why writing is a bad career choice.  Although the piece is intended to be humorous, I can't help feeling that there's a trace of true bitterness to it.

No rating.

Emphyrio (Part One of Two), by Jack Vance


Illustrations by Bruce Jones.

Taking up half the magazine, this initial segment begins with a bang.  We witness our protagonist, Ghyl Tarvoke, held prisoner in a tower.  His skull is cut open and his brain attached to a sinister device.  His captors manipulate his mind, bringing him from a vegetative state to one where he is able to answer questions, but lacks the imagination to lie.  The torturers want to know why he committed serious crimes before they kill him.

After this dramatic opening we go into a flashback.  Ghyl is the son of a woodworker.  They live on a planet that was colonized so long ago that Earth is just a legend.  Centuries ago, a war devastated the place where they live.  Wealthy and powerful people restored basic services and now rule as lords, collecting taxes from their underlings.


Ghyl and a friend sneak into the spaceport where the aristocrats keep their private starships.

Ghyl's father engages in the forbidden activity of duplication; that is, he builds his own device that allows him to make copies of old manuscripts.  (Other forms of duplication are also illegal; everything has to be made by hand.) He eventually pays a very heavy price for his crime.

In what starts as a joke, Ghyl runs for mayor (a purely symbolic office, but one that might offer the possibility of changing the oppressive laws of the lords) under the nom de guerre of Emphyrio.  This half of the novel ends just as the election is about to take place.

Vance is a master at describing exotic settings and strange cultures, and his latest work is a particularly shining example.  I have failed to give you any idea of the novel's complex and detailed background.  (Vance is the only SF author I know who can get away with the copious use of footnotes to explain the worlds he creates.) Ghyl and the other characters are very real, and their world seems like a place with millennia of history.

If I have to have a few minor quibbles, I might say that the novel (with the exception of the shocking opening scene) is very leisurely and episodic.  Readers expecting an action-packed plot may be a bit disappointed.  Personally, I found Ghyl's world fascinating.

Four stars (and maybe even leaning toward five.)

The Big Boy, by Bruce McAllister

The only other original work of fiction in this issue is a blend of science fiction and religious fantasy.  Space travelers, including clergy, discover a galaxy-size, vaguely humanoid being deep in the cosmos.  It manipulates stars and planets.  An attempt to communicate with it yields a garbled message that seems to indicate that it is God.  A clearer version of the message reveals something else.

I didn't really see the point of this story.  The second version of the message isn't some big, shocking twist, but rather a slight modification of the original.  (That's how I saw it, anyway, although the characters react wildly to it.)

Two stars.

On to the reprints!  They all come from old issues of Fantastic, instead of the usual yellowing copies of Amazing Stories and Fantastic Adventures.

Time Bum, by C. M. Kornbluth

The January/February 1953 issue of the magazine supplies this comedy.


Cover art by Robert Frankenberg.

A con artist rents a bungalow from a married couple.  He drops hints that he's from centuries in the future.  Revealing his identity as a time traveler would be a capital offense in his future world, or so he convinces them.  The plan is to have them bring him a fortune in diamonds that he can supposedly duplicate for them.


Illustration by David Stone.

This is an amusing little jape.  The author has a good time making fun of time travel stories and science fiction in general.  (The wife is a reader of SF magazines, tearing off the covers with their scantily clad space women.) It's a minor work, and you'll see the ending coming a mile away, but it's worth a chuckle or two.

Three stars.

The Opal Necklace, by Kris Neville

The very first issue of the magazine (Summer 1952) is the source of this horror story.


Cover art by Barye Phillips and Leo Summers.

The daughter of a witch living way back in the swamp marries a man from New York City.  The witch warns her that she will always be a part of the swamp.  She gives her daughter a string of opals, each one of which contains one of the husband's joys.


Illustration by Leo Summers.

When the marriage inevitably falls apart, the woman turning to booze and cheap affairs, she destroys the opals, one by one.  The first time, this causes the death of the man's pet dog.  It all leads up to a tragic ending.

Besides being an effective chiller, this is a very well-written story with a great deal of emotional power.  The woman is both victim and villain.  The reader is able to empathize with her, no matter how reprehensible her actions may be.

Four stars.

The Sin of Hyacinth Peuch, by Eric Frank Russell

This grimly comic tale comes from the Fall 1952 issue.


Cover art by Leo Summers.

A series of gruesome deaths occurs in a small town in France.  They all happen near a place where a meteorite fell.  Only the village idiot knows what is responsible.


Illustration by Leo Summers also.

Does that sound like a comedy to you?  Me neither.  The basic plot is a typical science fiction horror story, but the author treats it with dry humor.  Frankly, I found it in questionable taste, and not very funny.

Two stars.

Root of Evil, by Shirley Jackson

A tale from a truly great writer comes from the March/April issue.


Cover art by Richard Powers.

A man places an ad in the newspaper offering to send money to anybody who writes to him.  Sure enough, folks who send in a request get the cash.  We see several people react to this strange ad in different ways.  At last, we learn about the fellow giving away all this loot.


Illustration by Virgil Finlay.

I was expecting a lot from the author of the superb short stories The Lottery and One Ordinary Day, With Peanuts as well as the excellent novels The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle.  I didn't get it.  The initial premise is interesting, but the story fizzles out at the end.

Two stars.

What If, by Isaac Asimov

The same premiere issue that gave us Kris Neville's dark story of an unhappy marriage offers this sentimental tale from the Good Doctor about a happy one.


Illustration by David Stone.

A lovey-dovey couple are on a train.  A strange little man sits across from them with a box that says WHAT IF in big letters.  He doesn't say a word, but he shows them a glass panel that allows them to see what would have happened if they had not met the way they did.

This isn't the most profound story ever written, but it makes for very pleasant reading.  The message seems to be that some people are truly meant for each other, and that things tend to work out for the best.  An optimistic point of view, to be sure, but it will probably appeal to the old softy inside all of us.

Three stars.

Fantasy Books, by Fritz Leiber and Hank Stine

Leiber has high praise for the dark fantasy novel Black Easter by James Blish (I agree; it's very good) and the story collection A Glass of Stars by Robert F. Young, particularly noting the latter's skill with love stories.  (I agree with that also.)

Although it's not a book, the column includes an appreciation of the supernatural soap opera Dark Shadows by Hank Stine.

No rating.

Worth Spending Your Youth On?

This was a pretty good issue, despite a couple of disappointments.  The Jack Vance novel is clearly the highlight.  If you'd rather skip the rest of the magazine, you can always read an old literary classic.






[April 30, 1969] Eulogies (May 1969 Analog)

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

Goodnight, Percy

If you're anything like me, Peyton Place is something that happened to other people.  After all, last season, the first primetime soap opera was scheduled opposite Laugh In, and before that, the 9:30 PM slot in the midst of ABC's insipid Tuesday-night line-up.

But now I feel a little bad that the groundbreaking show is being taken off the air.  Based on the 1956 book of the same name by Grace Metalious, the Massachusetts-set serial was salacious for the time, involving as it did a lot of S-E-X, divorce, blackmail, murder, and more.  Jack Paar called it "Television's first situation orgy."  Johnny Carson quipped that it was "the first TV series delivered in a plain wrapper."


Stars Diana Hyland (standing), Pat Morrow (in can), and Tippy Walker

At one point a few years ago, some 60 million folks tuned in each week for the fun.  But nowadays, when the local theater is going blue/stag, and Candy is a mainstream hit ("Is Candy faithful?  Only to the book!"), Peyton Place all seems a bit staid.  They tried to mix things up by bringing in more teen storylines and also integrating the cast by hiring Percy Rodrigues (Star Trek's Commodore Stone) as the local doctor.


with Ryan O'Neal

Still, you can't beat Dick and Dan, and the series plummetted in the ratings (really—what were they thinking, scheduling it across from Rowan and Martin?) After 514 episodes, the show is going off the air.  Which, of course, just means we'll see it endlessly in morning reruns opposite the regular soaps—and you can bet we'll get a revival sometime in the future.  In the meantime…


"Goodnight, Lucy.  Goodnight, Marshall Dillon.  And goodnight to all you kooks on Peyton Place."

Goodnight, Johnny


by Kelly Freas

ABC at least knew when to pull the plug on its sinking stone.  Analog editor John Campbell, while he did some brilliant work in the '30s and '40s, seems content to stuff his magazine with the dullest dreck that science fiction has to offer.  The latest issue is Exhibit 1 for the prosecution:

Dragon's Teeth, by M. R. Anver


by Kelly Freas

A peace conference on a neutral asteroid promises to end a brutal war between humanity and the alien Cadosians.  But a faction of extraterrestrials has plans to distrupt the summit by introducing a deadly virus.  The question is how they'll smuggle it in…or in whom?

This is a competently put together adventure/mystery—no more, and no less.  As such, it's a fine first effort from Mr. Anver, but nothing to write home about.

Three stars.

The Chemistry of a Coral Reef, by Theodore L. Thomas

Science writer and fictioneer Ted Thomas offers up a long piece on coral reefs and how they're made.  For an article on stuff that takes place in our oceans, it's awfully dry.  Well, at least I know now what they're made of: calcium carbonate.  Good for all those fish with indigestion, I guess.

Two stars.

Operation M. I., by R. Hamblen


by Leo Summers

Three weeks of hyperspace are crushingly dull, and the intergalactic service is worried about the morale of their solo couriers, who have to endure the period without diversion.  Apparently, books and booze aren't enough.

So the ship's computer on the latest FTL ship is programmed to act like a nagging mother-in-law so each pilot is more irritated than bored.

Terrible piece.  One star.

Persistence, by Joseph P. Martino


by Kelly Freas

This is a sequel to the story Secret Weapon.  The Terrans have now got a leg up on their war with the Arcani, now destroying 3-4x as many vessels as they are losing.  However, this proportion is still below what the Big Brains in military intelligence expected.  Our hero, Commander William Marshall, is certain that the aliens have developed Faster Than Light ("C+") communications and are using them to thwart our patrols.

The story is devoted to the reverse engineering of a captured Arcani corvette, tediously going through each electronic gizmo to see how it is wired and what it is wired to.  Eventually, the existence (or lack) of a C+ radio will be proven.

Once again, the story is dull as dirt, and worse, poorly edited.  There's an art to writing successive paragraphs using different words.  Martino will repeat set phrases several times in a row, the sign of an unfiltered brain-to-typewriter stream of consciousness.

Also, women of the future still remain in the 1950's, socially.

Two stars.

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


by Kelly Freas

As we saw last month, Rex Bader, last of the private dicks in the People's Capitalism of America's late 20th Century, had been tapped by no fewer than five organizations to spy on each other as Bader went off to Eastern Europe and make contacts.  This passage explains it all:

He stared at the screen in disbelief.

This whole thing was developing into a farce. Roget wanted him to make an ultra-hush-hush trip into the Soviet Complex to contact his equal numbers with the eventual aim of creating a world government based on the international corporations.

Sophia Anastasis, of International Diversified industries, thought such a world government would upset the status quo to the detriment of what was once called the Mafia, and wanted all details.

John Coolidge and his group [the successor to the FBI] were afraid such changes would upset the governmental bureaucracy and the military machine and wanted to prevent it from happening. 

Colonel Simonov felt the same from the Soviet viewpoint, and wanted to maintain the status quo.

Dave Zimmerman was all in favor of world government but wanted the Meritocracy which would run it to be elected from the bottom up in each corporation, rather than being appointed.

And every damned one of them thought that their part of the operation was a secret.

Once Bader gets to Czechslovakia and Romania, the book reads like typical Reynolds: historical parallels (none after 1969, of course), tourism (we learn about the national drinks of the Warsaw Pact), and mildly droll high jinks.  It seems that Bader's cover is blown wherever he goes, suggesting a traitor somewhere in the works among his five employers.

There could have been a good mystery here, but it's all thrown in too little, too late.  Moreover, it's clear that this two-part serial is really just the first half of a longer book.

As a result, the whole is lesser than the sum of its parts.  I give this segment three stars, and three stars for the book as a whole (so far).

Initial Contact, by Perry A. Chapdelaine


by Kelly Freas

The Eridanians are coming!  Responding from signals broadcast by Project Ozma, an alien ship has been dispatched from Epsilon Eridani.  After twelve years at near light speed, the vessel is about to arrive—and the press is filled with concerns of an impending alien takeover. 

It all stems from a mistranslation of their latest message, suggesting their intent is conquest rather than coexistence.  In the meantime, there is a lot of Keystone Copping as the head of the Ozma IX project tries to tamp down on the paranoia.


by Kelly Freas

The best part of the story is the "universal message" broadcast by the Eridanians, hatched up by author Chapdelaine.  He explains it in the story—see if you can figure it out yourself.

But in the end, the story is rather pointless and forgettable.  Two stars.

Goodnight May

Doing the math, I find that April (postmarked May on the magazines) was a dreadful month for short science fiction.  Not a single magazine topped 3 stars, and Analog came in at a dismal 2.3.  For posterity, the rest were New Worlds (2.7), Venture (2.7), Amazing (2), Galaxy (3), and IF (3), and Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.7)

Even more disheartening: you could take all the 4-star works (nothing hit 5 stars this month) and barely fill a Galaxy-sized thick digest.  Women wrote 20% of all the new pieces published in April, which sounds impressive until you realize that six of the works were short poems in New Worlds, all by Libby Houston.

I am already hearing rumblings about Galaxy and IF's editor Fred Pohl getting the heave-ho, and Amazing's editorial musical chairs is legendary.  ABC dumped Peyton Place—is it time for someone to cancel John Campbell?






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

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

Impending collapse

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

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

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

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

Impending mediocrity

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


by Jack Gaughan

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

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

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

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

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

Four stars so far.

The Beast of Mouryessa, by William C. Abeel

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

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

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

London Melancholy, by M. John Harrison

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

One star.

For the Sake of Grace, by Suzette Haden Elgin

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

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

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

Four stars.

The Power of Progression, by Isaac Asimov

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

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

Three stars.

Copstate, by Ron Goulart

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

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

Two stars.

The Flower Kid Cashes In, by George Malko

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

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

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

The Body Count

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

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






[April 24, 1969] The Strange New Normal New Worlds, May 1969


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

With this issue of New Worlds, number 190, we now seem to be getting back to a regular monthly schedule and the new style seems to be bedding itself down into a regular format – although this being New Worlds I suspect that they would hate any hint of things becoming routine.

Quick recap, then. Recently Charles Platt and Michael Moorcock stepped away from full-time editorial duties, leaving the magazine in the capable hands of Langdon-Jones. His first issue last month was a corker, with the first publication of a Harlan Ellison story in Britain (although to be fair I had read some of his other work published in the American magazines beforehand.) As a result, the new mantra seems to be that New Worlds even though under new management will continue to publish cutting edge, controversial material that defies borders and descriptions.

Each issue seems to continue a confounding mixture of good, bad and weird prose, not to mention poetry. Its appeal to me seems to be that I never quite know what I’m going to get next, although with the poetry I have a fairly good (or is that bad?) idea.

Anyway, on to this month’s issue. 

A picture of a head in black, with a blue background. The head is facing towards the reader in the middle with the two images either side facing outwards.Cover by Gabi Nasemann

We’re back to the odd pictures of people’s faces on the cover this month.

Lead-In by The Publishers

As is usual, information is given on the contributors. This month, Harvey Jacobs, Brian Aldiss, poet Libby Houston, science editor Dr. Christopher Evans, his secretary Jackie Wilson and a photo of author Marek Obtuowicz without any further detail.

The Moment of Eclipse by Brian W Aldiss

A black and white photo of a woman’s head but split horizontally across the eyeline to create a mirror image above.Photo by Gabi Nasemann

The Lead In tells us that Brian’s latest offering was inspired by Thomas Hardy’s Poem Inspired by a Lunar Eclipse written in 1902.

This however is a more contemporary work, about a modern film maker and his pursuit of Christiania, a woman he has met, despite the fact that she is married and with a son. So, a story of lust, combined with Aldiss’s quirky humour and his love of global places that we have read before – not to mention a parasitical worm that will frighten any devotees of Frank Herbert’s Dune!

I liked this generally – mainly because it shows Aldiss’s precise and illustrative prose without so much of the oddness exhibited in his recent Charteris stories. 3 out of 5.

The Negotiators by Harvey Jacobs

A black and white drawing of soldiers being bombed by aeroplanes.Image by Mal Dean

This story is set in Vietnam as a dialogue between two negotiators hoping to cease the conflict there. Whilst the two characters grow closer, the war continues. A story that through vivid imagery and prose, at times sexual, basically suggests that war is bad, but that love may bring peace, or at least agreement. 4 out of 5.

Article: The Responsive Environment by Charles Platt

Platt interviews Keith Albarn, an architectural artist who makes furniture and buildings that adapt and can be rebuilt to individual needs. These range from a funfair in Margate to theatre design, educational toys, and a fun palace in Girvan, Scotland.

A plan, with a key of the Girvan Fun Palace, designed by Albarn.A map of the Girvan Fun Palace, Image by Unknown

3 out of 5.

A Cure for Cancer (Part 3 of 4) by Michael Moorcock
IMAGE: A drawing of tilt-wing turboprop aeroplane taking off into the air above a clifftop. On the cliff we have a rabbit and a North American Indian on horseback shaking their fists at the rising aeroplane. On the bottom right of the picture we have Bishop Beesley on a boat also shaking his fist at the plane.
Image by Mal Dean

More fractured escapades with Jerry Cornelius. Much of this part has Jerry travelling the world in search of the missing techno-wotsit. Really though this gives Moorcock a chance to show us the world, from his own street of Ladbroke Grove, London, to trendy Soho and the King’s Road, Chelsea before going on to other places such as Las Vegas and Sumatra.

Cornelius meets his brother Frank again (last seen in the March 1966 issue of New Worlds as part of The Final Programme novel) and sister Catherine, in suspended animation, but really the story appears to mainly be a minor point whilst we examine the setting of a free world in decline. Most of these places have been bombed, London has an air-strike whilst Jerry is in it, Americans are filling the world with ‘advisors’ whilst dealing with civil riots of its own on home territory.

Things begin to make more sense and there’s a feeling that we might be drawing things to a close, as Jerry and the missing machine that he is in search of may be either the cause of the world chaos or the person most effective in having to deal with it. 4 out of 5.

Poems by Libby Houston

IMAGE: A drawing of an hourglass on a checkered ground. There is fluid coming out of the bottom of the hourglass and a fly and a beetle sat on top of it.Image by Mal Dean

First thought: What must a young woman do to get published in New Worlds magazine? Write poetry, it seems, or be married to the magazine illustrator. (That is unfair, I know. New Worlds has championed women’s writing for years now, when they can get it.)

Six short poems here, and as such – they fill up space unremarkably. (Do bear in mind that I still find most poetry uninteresting, though.) At least they’re not written by the seemingly ubiquitous D. M. Thomas this month. 2 out of 5.

the hurt by Marek Obtuowicz

PHOTO: An image of a man’s face, distorted through glass.Photo by Gabi Nasemann

A new author. Sadly, this is one of those stories designed to try and shock without any real involvement on the part of the reader and filled with symbolism that seems meaningless.

Mostly dialogue based, it is a number of conversations between Peter and his sister, Pauline. Unsurprisingly, they discuss their lives in a depressingly bleak future, a world where sex seems meaningless and crying is forbidden. Perhaps even more unsurprisingly, Pauline is a brothel-owner and Peter and Pauline have an incestuous sexual relationship.

There’s something in there about emotional hurt being caused by events in the past, but I was too bored to look at it in detail. 2 out of 5.

The Dreams of the Computer by Dr. Christopher Evans and Jackie Wilson

IMAGE: A page of the story, as set out in computer code.

Written as if a computer programme, filled with lots of “Answer Yes or No” and “Go to” statements, Dr. Evans, with the help of his secretary, responds in kind to J. G. Ballard’s prose story, How Dr. Christopher Evans Landed on the Moon in issue 187 (February 1969) of New Worlds. I liked it. There’s a nice sense of absurd humour in it, but it loses some of its impact by being not as original as the Ballard version. I am also not sure it makes sense if you’ve not seen Ballard’s original piece. 3 out of 5.

A bumper crop of reviews this month, though most are not science fiction-related.

Book Reviews: Back in the U.S.S.R. by R. Glynn Jones

R. Glynn Jones reviews Art and Revolution, a book about the work of Russian sculptor Neivestny, whose opposition to Kruschev has made him a heroic and revolutionary symbol.

Book Reviews: Twilight Crucifixion of the Beastly Black Sheep by M. John Harrison

Harrison reviews The Spook Who Sat by the Door, a polemic book about a Black CIA officer which is “an incitement to riot”, Behold the Man by Michal Moorcock (which we reviewed here when it was a serial story), The Twilight of the Vilp by Paul Ableman, which is “weary, contrived and too long”, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K Dick, a novel which is “beautifully constructed yet disappointing”, and the wonderfully titled The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B, which is “moderately enjoyable”.

Book Reviews: Notes on the Management of a Spoiled Identity by Bob Marsden

Marsden reviews a book on the theory of game-play, a book on psychological theories and stratagems and a book on the discrepancy between what people think a person should be and what they really are. Nothing really of interest to me there. Moving on…

Book Reviews: From Alice with Malice by James Cawthorn

At last: Cawthorn reviews what we would broadly describe as fantasy and science fiction! Black Alice will be of interest here as it is written by two New Worlds regulars, Thomas M. Disch and John T. Sladek. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it is well-received. So too a number of books by Michael Moorcock, including The Jewel in the Skull, The Ice Schooner and The Mad God’s Amulet. He then reviews a “disappointing” SF novel for younger readers, Undersea City by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson, and the “fairly entertaining” Twin Planets by Philip E. High. Lastly, and then rather oddly, Cawthorn reviews a book on rural uprisings in pre-Victorian England – who says New Worlds lacks diversity?

Book Reviews: Against the Juggernaut by John Clute

John Clute is a new reviewer here, although he has had fiction published in New Worlds before (A Man Must Die, November 1966.) Here he reviews a “simply godawful” book of poetry, Juggernaut by Barry McSweeney, a book by a new African writer who Clute describes as “an intelligent and urbane civil servant and diplomat, but a lame writer”, a novel about a group of Americans who translate the Oberammergau Passion Play into English and put it on in Texas as making the reviewer feel as if they had “just been forced to eat yesterday’s newspaper” and a detailed review on a book about the philosophy of Jean Paul Satre. They may not be books I would ever want to read myself, but at least the reviewer is entertaining.

Book Reviews: The Nondescript Heroes by Charles Platt

Platt reviews the autobiographical Gemini! by the recently-departed Apollo astronaut Virgil Grissom. He is disappointed by the book’s blandness and superficiality, eventually concluding that such an exciting and technological advancement is not served well by such pilots of limited expression.

An advertisement for New Worlds binders, showing the binder, both open and closed.

Summing up New Worlds

Well, if New Worlds is all about ‘cutting edge, controversial material that defies borders and descriptions’, then this issue isn’t it. In fact, it is a solid yet rather conventional issue – admittedly conventional for New Worlds. There’s no photos of naked ladies, relatively little sex (although there is some – this is New Worlds, after all!) and stories that now seem rather typical of the new style of New Worlds.

In short, it is pretty much what to expect from the magazine, which is not a bad thing, but rather unmemorable, as it is not as determined to startle as some previous editions have been.

The most memorable thing about the issue is the new reviewer John Clute, who seems to be here to stir things up a little, although I do find it amusing to see both recently-retired editors Platt and Moorcock appearing in issues writing fiction and articles. Still around and not forgotten.

Anyway, that’s it, until next time.





[April 12, 1969] A New Venture (May 1969 Venture)


by David Levinson

History lesson

Way back in 1956, Joseph Ferman was the owner of Mercury Publishing, which produced several magazines, including The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. He believed there was a place in the crowded SF market for a new magazine. The genre was changing; space opera was out, problem stories and stories with a narrower focus were in. The closure of Planet Stories the previous year meant no one was running SF with a hint of adventure and excitement. Joe decided to fill that gap, and a new magazine was born.

The first issue of Venture Science Fiction was dated January 1957 (which means it hit the stands in November or December of 1956). The editor was Robert P. Mills, who was the managing editor over at F&SF under Tony Boucher, with Boucher listed as the advisory editor. The cover by Ed Emshwiller went to a Poul Anderson Psychotechnic League story, Virgin Planet, later expanded to a novel of the same name. Other stories included a science fiction mystery by Isaac Asimov (The Dust of Death) and a controversial Ted Sturgeon tale (The Girl Had Guts), which allegedly made some readers physically ill.

The issue also had a note from the publisher, explaining what he hoped the magazine would be. Every story would have to be well told, and every story had to have “pace, power, and excitement.” But those things also wouldn’t take the place of character and sense.

Venture came out regularly every other month for 10 issues, but it never stood out in a crowded market. There were plenty of big-name authors, and you might recognize a story or two, but none were big stories that will be remembered as classics. This is where Asimov’s science essays ran before moving to F&SF. The magazine may be best remembered as the place that Sturgeon’s Law was first proposed in full: “Ninety percent of everything is crud,” along with its two corollaries.

The first and last covers for the first run of Venture. Art in both by Ed Emshwiller

What happened? It’s hard to say, but it has been suggested some of the content was too much for the times. There was more gore and sex than was considered acceptable, but which would fit right in today. As a result, new readers may have been put off, and old readers may have decided to go elsewhere. The chaos in the magazine market following the collapse of American News Distribution, which held a near monopoly on magazine distribution, in mid-1957 can’t have helped matters. In any case, the final issue was dated July 1958.

“Wait,” I hear our British and Australian readers say, “wasn’t there a magazine by that name in the early ’60s?” There was! The British version of Venture ran from September 1963 to December 1965. It carried reprints from the American edition of F&SF, even though that magazine also had a British version. The Australian edition was identical, just dated two months later, folding in February 1966.

Another try at the brass ring

The Fermans père et fils have decided to give Venture another try. Maybe they should have told someone. Galaxy Publishing has launched a few new magazines in the last few years, and they always made a big deal of it in their other mags several months in advance. Beyond a very small notice in last month’s F&SF, I haven’t heard a thing about it. Seems like a questionable marketing strategy.

Ed Ferman will be editing Venture as well as F&SF, but since it’s going to be quarterly, it shouldn’t be too much extra work. Along with stories, there’s a book review column by Ron Goulart. A particularly biting review column; Ron doesn’t seem to like much. Presumably, this will be a regular feature.

Another apparent recurring feature (it is, at least, listed as a “department” along with the book reviews) is the return of Ferdinand Feghoot. Feghoots, for the uninitiated, are very short – usually around half a page – stories ending in a pun. They ran in F&SF for a time, up until a few years ago, and the Traveler generally left them out of his reviews. Since puns may be the most subjective form of humor and it will be nearly impossible to cover them without giving away the joke, I will maintain this policy. Should they disappear, I will mention it. At the very least, they tend to be considerably better than the atrocious Benedict Breadfruit stories that appeared in Amazing several years ago.

Let’s take a look at this maiden issue.

This singularly unattractive cover is by Bert Tanner.

Before we get to the stories, we need to talk about this cover. At first glance, I thought this was a coffin and a bat, so I assumed it was a horror mag and moved on. It was only when I went back a second time that I realized it was what I was looking for. Cover art should grab the eye and make you want to pick it up. That’s especially true for a new magazine that’s had essentially no advertising. This does none of that. I do like the logo, though.

Hour of the Horde, by Gordon R. Dickson

One day, the sun turns red, and a spaceship the size of Rhode Island appears in orbit around the Earth. Two apparently human beings appear, claiming to be from the center of the galaxy. They bear warning of the approach of a threat which will wipe the galaxy almost clean of life. Earth will be allowed to provide one person to aid in the defense against the threat. The person they choose is graduate art student Miles Vander.

Vander is searching for the creative equivalent of “hysterical strength,” the sort of thing that allows a small woman to lift a car to rescue her trapped child. He is changed by the aliens so that he can draw on the rest of humanity for a poorly explained resource and perhaps pass it on to the Center Aliens. What he finds when he reaches the Battle Line is less than encouraging.

I have no idea what’s going on here, but it’s almost the only art in the issue. Art by Bert Tanner

If I’d been handed this without a byline, I’d have said it was by Dickson once I got to the military stuff, so if you’re familiar with his work, you should have some idea what you’ll think of this. Much as in the recent Wolfling, the story goes on too long after the climax in order for Dickson to wax philosophic for a while. Otherwise, it was pretty good.

According to my sources, this “complete novel” has actually been condensed. It hasn’t suffered too much from the Reader’s Digest treatment. A few things might make a bit more sense, but they’re not really necessary to enjoy the story.

Three stars.

July 24, 1970, by K.M. O’Donnell

It’s no secret that K.M. O’Donnell is Barry Malzberg, who was briefly the editor of Amazing and Fantastic. This story was probably inspired by his time there. It’s in the form of a letter from an editor to a writer, gently trying to dissuade the author from submitting the story without rejecting it outright. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, which the story actually calls attention to, and doesn’t break any new ground, but it’s told pretty well.

Three stars.

The New Science, by Don Thompson

Four grad students attempt to use the university computer to tease out the valid aspects of witchcraft, in the same way that alchemy led to chemistry. There are unintended consequences. Like the previous story, there’s nothing new here, but it’s told reasonably well.

Three stars.

Troubling of a Star, by Bryce Walton

After searching 10,000 worlds without finding a trace of life, an expedition plans to go home. The captain is reluctant, but has little choice. With the rest of the crew already in suspended animation, he makes a discovery.

This story is far too long and is overwrought. I have no idea what the author wanted to say, and much of it doesn’t make sense.

Two stars.

The Topic for the Evening, by Daphne Castell

A married couple discuss local events and some of the women in town. The husband oversteps his bounds.

Yet another tale covering well-trod ground, but told well enough. I liked this better, though, when it was Gladys’s Gregory or Conjure Wife.

A low three stars.

Nine P.M., Pacific Daylight Time, by Ronald S. Bonn

Maybe the reason no time traveler has ever appeared is that no one has built a receiver. A “Mad Scientist” has now done so and invites a prominent science writer to be there when he powers it up. He may not have thought this through all the way.

Old ground again, but quite well told.

A high three stars.

Hold Your Fire!, by Larry Eisenberg

Eisenberg came up with brilliant and obnoxious chemist Emmett Duckworth back in 1967 and probably should have left him there. But with a story both here and in Galaxy this month, it looks like we’re in for more not very funny stories. In this one, Duckworth is annoyed by the sounds of a rifle competition on campus.

Two stars.

Summing up

Is there room for another SF magazine in the current market? Maybe, though the failure of Worlds of Tomorrow and the intermittent at best appearances of International Science Fiction and Worlds of Fantasy argue against it. If Venture is going to be successful in its second incarnation, it’s going to need a couple of things.

The first is promotion. An easily missed, three line announcement in F&SF isn’t going to cut it. The three magazines I mentioned in the previous paragraph were all heavily promoted in IF and Galaxy in both editorials and half-page ads for several months before they hit the newsstands. Another aspect of promotion is an eye-catching cover. The art on this issue is terrible. As I said, I was looking for this magazine and almost missed it. F&SF doesn’t have interior illustrations, but the covers are usually quite good.

The other important aspect is standing out. Especially for a quarterly, you need people talking about your magazine. Running a (condensed) novel might work if it’s really good. Hour of the Horde is decent, but it’s not going to generate word of mouth. A really outstanding story (or a really controversial one) would also work. The retreads in this issue, no matter how well-told, don’t cut the mustard.

We’ll see how things look this summer when the next issue is due.






[April 10, 1969] Low (May 1969 Amazing)


by John Boston

Here’s the May Amazing, the latest installment of the dreary soap opera that this magazine has become.  The well-qualified Ted White is the new editor, the fourth in ten issues.  Though he’s listed as Managing Editor, and Sol Cohen as Editor and Publisher, White’s editorial makes it clear that he will be running the magazine—within the constraints of Cohen’s policies, of course, most notably the reprint policy.


by Johnny Bruck

As a debut issue, this one does not impress, but that’s probably not a fair judgment.  Given the abrupt departure of White’s predecessor Barry Malzberg, it was likely a scramble to get any issue at all together from available parts.  The fiction contents include an Edmond Hamilton story in a series that has run in Amazing and Fantastic for several years, publication no doubt foreordained; one very short new story; and the usual heavy load of reprints, all from the 1950s consistent with recent practice.  The non-fiction includes, as usual of late, a Laurence Janifer movie review (Barbarella—he likes it!) and a Leon Stover “Science of Man” article.  The only identifiable change is a letter column.  The book review department is missing, one hopes temporarily, since it has been one of the magazine’s brighter aspects.

As for future plans, White provides a rather carefully argued editorial, which starts by analogizing the “New Thing” in science fiction to the ongoing innovations in popular music, noting that despite the “sudden flowering” of rock music, it isn’t forgetting its roots.  After some commentary on the New Thing, sympathetic but cautionary (“One J.G. Ballard can be important, but ten little Ballards?”), White asserts that most of the “New Wave” writers have not neglected their predecessors, citing Zelazny and Delany, noting particularly that Delany has absorbed and transformed old Planet Stories-style space opera plots. “It is my conviction that the science fiction field needs a magazine in which the old and the new can exist side by side, each thriving from its proximity to the other.  And that is what I intend for Amazing: Something of the old (the reprints) and of the new (the best of the new writers). . . .” And he concludes by adding that this issue’s “Star Kings” novelet by Edmond Hamilton exemplifies exploration of the genre’s roots—but next issue we can expect a “new and very different novel by Robert Silverberg.”

It’s all gracefully done, touching the necessary bases with plausible conviction, and starkly contrasting with Harry Harrison’s pandering editorial of February 1968, which made essentially the same substantive points but which struck me as “a disappointingly smarmy exercise in having it both ways.”

The letter column is divided among sober commentary on current SF, the pleasures of letter columns and fanzine reviews, and a quite long letter contesting Stover’s “Science of Man” article War and Peace, which White says he cut down from 14 pages.  Shades of Brass Tacks!  This feature will require some tightening up but White clearly takes it seriously.  As for the reference to fanzine reviews, White promises “fan features” in both Amazing and Fantastic.

And up front—though looking backward—is another cliched cover illustration by Johnny Bruck.  Last issue, fellow Journeyer Cora Buhlert wished that Amazing would use the good Bruck covers rather than the dull ones.  Yes!  If there are any.

The Horror from the Magellanic, by Edmond Hamilton

The lead story is Edmond Hamilton’s “short novel” (33 pages), The Horror from the Magellanic, latest in his series of sequels to his 1947 novel The Star Kings.  I won’t repeat my previous jaundiced comments on the whole enterprise, but will leave it at a couple of samples:

“ ‘Highness, they’ve come out of the Marches.  The Counts’ fleet.  They’re more than twice as strong as we expected . . . and they’re coming full speed toward Fomalhaut!’
“Chapter Two
“Gordon felt a chilling dismay.  The Counts of the Marches were throwing everything they had into this.  And whether their gamble succeeded or not, in the dark background brooded the unguessable purposes and menace of the H’harn.”

And:

“. . . Gordon sat for a long time looking past the moving lights and the uproar and clamorous confusion of the great city, toward the starry sky.  A star kingdom might fall, Narath might realize his ambition and sit on the throne of Fomalhaut, and he, John Gordon, and Lianna might be sent to their deaths.  And that would be a world tragedy as well as tragedy for them.
“But if the H’harn succeeded, that would be tragedy for the whole galaxy, a catastrophe of cosmic dimension.  Thousands of years before they had come from the outer void, bent on conquest, and only the power of the Disruptor, unloosed by Brenn Bir, had driven them back .  Out there in the Lesser Magellanic Cloud they had brooded all this time, never giving up their purpose, filtering back gradually in secret plotting with the Counts, plotting with Narath, making ready some new tremendous stroke.
“Doomsday had come again, after those thousands of years.”


by Dan Adkins

To my taste, this is all an idea whose time has passed.  No disrespect to Hamilton—a working professional writing in a mode he virtually invented—especially since he has shown he can work quite capably in styles other than this bombastic costume drama (see his 1960 novel The Haunted Stars).  Three stars, acknowledging the craft involved, even if I can’t get interested.

Yesterdays, by Ray Russell

The new short story (very short), Ray Russell’s Yesterdays, couples two ancient themes, time running backwards and mad scientists; it’s clever and facile, as one would expect from the long-time fiction editor of Playboy, but no more. Three stars.

The Invaders, by Murray Leinster

The longest story in the issue is Murray Leinster’s The Invaders, from the April/May 1953 issue of Amazing, the first in its short-lived experiment in paying more in order to get better material from more well-known authors.  Leinster shared the contents page with Heinlein, Sturgeon, and Bradbury.  Unfortunately his story begins well but undermines itself, unusually for this professional of decades’ standing.


Uncredited

The scene is set in terms of purest Cold War paranoia.  The protagonist, surveying in Greece, flees an unacknowledged incursion by Bulgarian soldiers, and the author observes:

“It was not the time for full-scale war.  Bulgaria and the other countries in its satellite status were under orders to put a strain upon the outside world.  They were building up border incidents and turmoil for the benefit of their masters.  Turkey was on a war footing, after a number of incidents like this.  Indo-China was at war.  Korea was an old story.  Now Greece.  It always takes more men to guard against criminal actions than to commit them. . .  This was cold war.”

In the midst of this covert crisis, the protagonist discovers powerful evidence of infiltration by extraterrestrials in human guise—but what to do?  Who will believe him?  Leinster builds an atmosphere of suspense and suspicion at first, but it is quickly dissipated by hints that something different and more benign is going on, and by the end there’s no suspense or surprise.  Three stars, barely; it’s at least slickly readable, as usual for Leinster.

King of the Black Sunrise, by Milton Lesser

Milton Lesser’s King of the Black Sunrise is an entirely more rancid kettle of fish.  It’s from Amazing, May 1955, in the midst of the Howard Browne/Paul Fairman era of calculated formulaic mediocrity, and shows it.  It reads like the result of a barroom bet over how many egregious cliches the author could cram into a single story. 

Kent Taggert, fugitive from justice on murder charges (but of course he’s innocent), is tracked down on the obscure planet Argiv by a woman who wants to hire him for a dangerous assignment.  “I looked at her for the first time.  She was beautiful.  So damned beautiful and so damned sure of herself.  I felt like poking her one.” A bit later: “I could smell her perfume, not the kind that slams two sexy fists into your nostrils but the subtle kind, like the girls can buy only on Earth.”


Uncredited

The woman (named Helen, we later learn) discloses that the World Bureau of Investigation is on his trail, and like clockwork, a guy “who was trying too hard not to look like law” shows up at the bar where this conversation is occurring.  Taggert decides he’d better take Helen’s proposition—to guide her party to find and plunder the treasure of the Black Sunrise. 

See, Argiv has three suns—per the natives, the Green God, the Yellow God, and (“greatest of all”) the Purple God.  They all rise and set at different times, but occasionally they are all below the horizon at the same time.  That’s the Black Sunrise, even though it’s really a sunset.  During the Black Sunrise, the barrier to the natives’ treasure cave opens up, and new offerings are deposited to make sure the three Gods come back.  No one who has sought to steal this treasure has emerged alive.

So our freebooters hire some native bearers (“big flabby purple-skinned Argivians”) and march into the jungle (“King Solomon’s Mines, a hundred parsecs out in deep space,” muses Cotton, the hotheaded jerk of the party).  But soon enough the bearers become fearful and desert, and the humans must push on without much of their equipment.

It goes on in similar vein, but recounting it is even more tedious than reading it.  One star.

Wish It Away, by Frank Freeman

Frank Freeman’s Wish It Away (Fantastic, January-February 1954) is a jokey vignette so inane it almost hurts to describe it.  Protagonist Mervin sees a monster every night, psychiatrist tells him to “wish it away,” next night the psychiatrist sees the monster, who says, “Mervin sent me.  I hope it’s all right.” Now nobody else has to read it.  One star.

Race-Zoology and Politics, by Leon E. Stover

The “Science of Man” article by Leon E. Stover suffers the faults of its predecessors, magnified.  Race-Zoology and Politics is an outright polemic, with Stover taking up the cause of Carleton S. Coon, author of The Origin of the Races, who was denounced as a racist a few years ago by the president of the American Anthropological Association.  Stover says Coon “has simply become a ‘non-person’ to the profession,” but: “It is a dead certainty that Coon sometime in the future will be rehabilitated and recognized for the great work he has done, which has been to complete the uncompleted work of Darwin.”

Well, maybe.  Stover proceeds to argue Coon’s case about the evolution of human physical types in his familiar assertively dogmatic fashion.  This one-sided partisan presentation concerning what is apparently a hot ongoing argument in the profession is of little use to the lay reader trying to understand more about the underlying science.  Not rated—it’s just out of place here.

Summing Up

This is the most discouraging issue of Amazing in recent memory.  The magazine continues to limp along under the weight of the reprint policy, and this issue’s batch of them is the worst in some time.  Notably, the original notion of reacquainting the current SF readership with forgotten classics of the field—or at least interesting period pieces—has largely been lost as the reprints have come more frequently from Amazing’s more recent periods of outright mediocrity, mostly ranging from routine to awful.  Will yet another new editor be allowed to make it better?






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

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

Instant Classic

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

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

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

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

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


by Vaughn Bodé

Little Blue Hawk, by Sydney J. Van Scyoc

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

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


by Reese

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

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

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

Two stars.

The Open Secrets, by Larry Eisenberg

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

Frivolous, but not terrible.  Two stars.

Star Dream, by Terry Carr and Alexei Panshin

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

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

Three stars.

Coloured Element, by William Carlson and Alice Laurance

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

Two stars.

Killerbot!, by Dean R. Koontz

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

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

Three stars.

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

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

Four stars.

A Man Spekith, by Richard Wilson


by Peñuñuri

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

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

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

The Man Inside, by Bruce McAllister

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

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

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


by Jack Gaughan

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

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

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

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

Four stars.

Back to (un)reality

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

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






[April 6, 1969] The Weight of History (May 1969 IF)


by David Levinson

A simmering conflict

There’s trouble brewing in the east. The border between the Soviet Union and China has long been a point of contention, going back over 100 years when the Czars imposed a border treaty on a weakened imperial China. All the socialist brotherhood in the world wasn’t enough to fix the problem in the post-War years (admittedly, the Nationalist government complicated things), and things haven’t gotten better since the Sino-Soviet split.

An agreement was almost reached 1964, but some impolitic comments by Mao got out and prompted Khrushchev to block the deal. Sino-Soviet relations got very tense during the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia last summer, and the Chinese have been poking at the border, seemingly trying to get the Soviets to overreact.

The chief hot spot has been a small island in the Ussuri river claimed by both sides. Called Chenpao by the Chinese and Damansky by the Russians, it’s only 0.29 square miles; that’s a little over 185 acres or 17.5 American football fields. On March 2nd, a Chinese force surprised (or ambushed, depending on who you ask) a Soviet force on the island. After fierce fighting, both sides declared victory and withdrew. On the 15th, the Chinese shelled the island, pushing the Soviets back, but the afternoon saw a Soviet counterattack with tanks and mechanized infantry, which drove the Chinese off the island. The next day, the Soviets returned to recover their dead, which the Chinese allowed, but when they tried to recover a disabled T-62 tank (one of their newer models) the day after that, they were driven off by Chinese artillery. On the 21st, the Soviets sent a demolition team to destroy the tank, but the Chinese drove them back and recovered the tank themselves.

A map showing the location of Chenpao/Damansky Island

China is reportedly ignoring diplomatic overtures by the Soviets, and the situation remains tense. There are signs that China is preparing for a potential invasion by the Soviets, but the U.S.S.R. seems less inclined to escalate. It’s easy enough to want to sit back and watch a couple of powers hostile to the West fight, but both sides have the Bomb, and even a limited nuclear exchange could have severe consequences for the northern hemisphere.

Chinese soldiers pose with their captured Russian tank

Confronting the past

Though set in the future, most of the stories in this month’s IF have characters dealing with the events of the past. Or even experiencing them. But first a word about the art.

The cover illustrates Groovyland and is credited as courtesy of Three Lions, Inc., but see below

From what I can find out, Three Lions is a photo agency. If you want a picture of a boy eating ice cream or someone famous (they have a large collection of JFK photos from before he ran for president), they’ll license one to you. Apparently, they’re branching out into art. This is a reasonable illustration for the Bloch story in this issue, and I suspect Bloch used it as inspiration for his story. However, it was originally done by Johnny Bruck for the German magazine Perry Rhodan #216. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because Bruck’s work has been repurposed many times as cover art for Amazing and Fantastic. I hope Galaxy Publishing isn’t going down the same road.

Here’s the original art by Johnny Bruck.

Groovyland, by Robert Bloch

An out of work screenwriter runs into a young woman at the employment office who offers him a place to stay. On the way back to her place, they hit a little green man, who says he’s here to conquer the world.  When they find out he can replicate any song he hears once, including harmonies and instruments, they and their housemates offer to help him. Things kick off at the titular Groovyland, a theme park in the desert west of Los Angeles. Unfortunately, everybody has their own agenda.

The entrance to one of Groovyland’s main attractions. Art by Gaughan

Humor is subjective, and I said in the teaser last month that I find Bloch’s humor to be hit or miss. Never before have I read a story, even a much shorter story than this, where almost every paragraph expects a rimshot. And the paragraphs that don’t want a rimshot are more than made up for by those that want multiple rimshots. Some of the satire works, a couple of the band names are mildly amusing, and there’s a decent story in there somewhere, but it’s all drowned out by jokes that deserve a chorus of boos and a hail of rotten vegetables.

Barely three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

This month, del Rey looks at the way the growth of scientific knowledge has gradually depopulated the science fiction solar system. In doing so, he also looks at the sort of things life needs to flourish, not just air and water, but energy as well. Luckily, it’s almost certain that life exists somewhere in the galaxy.

Three stars.

Mad Ship, by C.C. MacApp

Aboard a generation ship on its way to a distant star, something went horribly wrong (as things tend to in science fiction stories) and the personalities of various crew members that had been transcribed in to the ship’s computers fought a war among themselves. The people of Sinus B only have contact with the personality of Captain Gerlik who is mad, but keeps them alive. Now Pryboy Thorp finds himself making a perilous journey to the Nose Cone, for what reason he isn’t sure.

Pry makes a mad dash past a pairbot under the mad captain’s control. Art by Fedak

MacApp is a pretty good writer, and stories like this make me regret all the time he wasted on those awful Gree stories (some of which actually weren’t bad, and there weren’t anywhere near as many of them as loom in my memory). This is one of his better tales. Its biggest flaw is the description of the ship; I never felt like I understood how things were laid out. However, that doesn’t detract much from the enjoyment of the story.

A high three stars, falling just short of four.

Spork and the Beast, by Perry Chapdelaine

Spork is a human raised among the alien Ayor, whom he guided to a new way of living in the previous story. The crash of a ship bearing other humans leads to the Ayor exploring their solar system and encountering a grave danger on one of the inner planets.

Spork and one of the Ayor have lost their ship. Art by Reese

The adventures of Spork continue, and it looks like there’s more coming. The comparison to Tarzan is inevitable, but it’s Tarzan written by A.E. van Vogt in one of his more esoteric moods. If that sounds interesting to you, you might enjoy it. Unfortunately, neither of those things appeals to me very much, the combination even less so.

A low three stars.

Destroyer, by Robert Weinberg

The Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride again, and Destruction is their fifth. Or is that an illusion created to keep the mind of a man implanted into a killing machine sane and functioning?

Making his first professional sale, Bob Weinberg is an active fan with a special interest in the pulps. You may have encountered the reader’s guides he created last year for the works of Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard. His freshman effort feels more like Zelazny than the pulps, but there’s a bit of Howard woven in there, too. It’s a good start, and I look forward to more from him.

A high three stars.

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

In Part 1, dreamer Tamisan took Lord Starrex and his cousin Kas into a dream based on an alternative version of the history of their world. Unable to break the dream without both companions, she found Starrex, but now Kas is not where they expected to find him. She will have to enter a dream within a dream, in the hope of getting them all home.

Starrex fights to keep Tamisan safe while she tries to break the dream. Art by Adkins

I said last month that I’m not a fan of this kind of story, and this didn’t do anything to change my mind. It’s not Norton; give me some Time Traders or the Solar Queen, and I’ll happily read it. Even so, this is objectively not one of her better works. It’s never made clear whether they’re in a dream or have slipped into a parallel world, and the answer to that question has a big effect on the meaning of the ending. At least, apart from that issue, Norton writes well and entertainingly.

A low three stars.

Authorgraphs: An Interview with Lester del Rey

This month’s interview must have been easy to get, since del Rey is right there in the office. He expounds on his career, science fiction in general, critics, TV and movies. But Lester, you’re too young to be such a curmudgeon.

Three stars.

Portrait by Gaughan

Summing up

IF continues rolling down the middle of the road. Even that’s shaky. The three longest pieces are a low three stars at best. At least we got a good, if not great, MacApp story and a very promising new writer, if he’s not another one-shot wonder as so many of the IF firsts have been.

A new Reynolds novel could go either way, but that title invites comparisons to Heinlein.






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

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

Mars ho!

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

black and white photograph of an Atlas-Agena taking off from Cape Canaveral

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

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

Mack ho!

cover illustration of two white-suited futuristic cops beating a red-suited man underneath a futuristic monorail
by Kelly Freas

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

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

black and white illustration of a suited man on a pedestal facing five sinister figures, one a futuristic cop with a whip, one holding a gun, one with both, a woman with a hoop, and a bald man with his hand on his hips
by Kelly Freas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey But No Presto, by Jack Wodhams

black and white illustration of a short, ruddy man entreating a young man looking askance with hands at his sides, an image of him seated, eyes closed, in the background
by Leo Summers

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

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

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

photo from below of a hard-hatted worker atop a radio telescope grid

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

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

Three stars.

Cultural Interference, by Walter L. Kleine

black and white illustration of a flying saucer careening toward a planet, with inserts of a mustached man looking at a naked woman helping a naked man out of the saucer on the surface, a man in a cowboy hat with a sheriff's star, and two lab-coated men looking at a giant, narrow monolith
by Leo Summers

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

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

Two stars.

Opportunist, by Guy McCord

black and white illustration of a seated, wizened man wearing a Native American outfit done in tartan, a rock hut in the background
by Kelly Freas

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

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

I din't like it.  Two stars.

Oh ho!

three women operate a room full of line printers somewhere in the Soviet Union

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

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

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






[March 31, 1969] 15 Minutes of Famous (Famous #8 & 9)


By Mx Kris Vyas-Myall

Following their marriage in Gibraltar, experimental artist Yoko Ono and her husband, John Lennon, did something unusual for their honeymoon. In Amsterdam they stayed in bed… for peace.

Yoko Ono and John Lennon at the Amsterdam Hilton in pyjamas in bed with signs pasted on the window 
saying "hair peace" and "bed peace"

In complete contrast to the infamous Two Virgins album cover, they were fully attired and let the press observe them for 8 hours a day during their week long stay. They said they wanted to promote peace via staying put and letting their hair grow out.

Is this a way to use their fame for a good cause? Or a stunt to drum up publicity?  Whatever the case may be, it has drummed up a lot of media attention and discussion. And it is also certain the modern media has made communication of a message across the world easier than ever before.

Whether or not it will have any lasting effect remains the question, both for this protest and the short-lived quarterly magazine, Famous Science Fiction.

Famous #8: An Unconvincing Hair Peace

Cover of Famous #8

Dark Moon by Charles Willard Diffin

Black and white image illustrating Dark Moon by Charles Willard Diffin. It shows three people outside a spaceship cowering from a giant insectoid creature whilst the doorway to the ship is covered in webbing
Illustration by H. W. Wesso

The cover and first internal art illustrate the main novella for this issue, the first in Diffin’s Dark Moon series. This was first published in Astounding’s May 1931 issue.

Astounding’s May 1931 cover illustrating the Dark Moon with the same imae as before, but in colour
The original, looks better in colour

In this tale, earthquakes and tidal waves are plaguing the Earth, and mysterious creatures are attacking airliners. This all seems related to a new satellite that has entered orbit, a “dark moon” (named as such because it can only be seen when it transverses other bodies).

Travelling to explore this world are Chet Bullard and Walter Harkness, two Howard Hughes-esque business magnates, pursued by their rival Herr Schwartzmann.

It is full of the cliches of the day, including villainous Central Europeans, radium powered weapons, rescuing of a damsel-in-distress and giant insectoid and serpentine monsters. It also has the usual tendency of pulp fiction for over-description to the point of redundancy.

However, it moves along well, like a Douglas Fairbank adventure movie, with enough derring-do to keep you entertained. In addition, it makes more efforts than most short stories to place us fully in this future world, with mentions of a prior invasion from mole people living under the Earth and explanations of the fashions of the 1970s (apparently Harkness dresses much the same way I do in my profile picture).

This is a hard story to truly judge as it is really only the first section of a trilogy of tales. The cover image doesn’t take place until three quarters of the way through and they soon simply return to Earth. If it was written today, it probably wouldn’t gain more than two stars. However, I will be generous, in due deference to age, and give it a low Three Stars.

Art and Artiness by Lester Del Rey

This is the text of Del Rey’s speech that he was unable to give at the 1967 WorldCon. In essence, it is a broad-side against the New Wave. Whilst there are some interesting points that could be discussed, such as whether man in a crisis acts selfishly or selflessly, it comes across to me more as a poorly considered rant including such statements as:

“Art has been used as a cop-out for incompetent craftmanship.”
“It isn’t reality or integrity these writers are using. Instead, they’re using a cheap excuse for doing lazy work.”
“They have moved from the college writing class to the too-easy sale of stories without the need to rub against the real world of action under stress. They are empty men, and the only reality they can fully know is the pettiness of their character.”

So, Lester, allow me a quick retort.

Let us start be considering the ABC of the British New Wave (Aldiss, Ballard & moorCock). Starting with biography, Aldiss served in Burma with Royal Signal Corps and Ballard spent World War 2 in a Japanese internment camp. These seem reasonable environments for observing men under stress. None of the three, to the best of my knowledge, attended university creative writing courses.

Moving on to the craft itself. With the significant shrinking of the short fiction markets over the last ten years, I think it is hard to claim that the new wave get “too-easy sales”. Looking at the new fiction we reviewed last month at GJ, only around a quarter of it could be described as new wave in the broadest definitions. And it should be noted we don’t regularly review some of the pulpier publishers like Belmont and Arkham House. Indeed most of those we have are published in New Worlds, a magazine largely kept afloat by Moorcock churning out the better end of pulp adventures in a tea-fuelled fugue state.

Which leads us to the other point, these kinds of writers have shown they can indeed write and appreciate the “good-old stuff” very well at various points in their careers. Moorcock started off his career with the Sojan the Swordsman stories to back-up Tarzan Adventures. Whilst Aldiss wrote his take on H. G. Wells in The Saliva Tree and has edited collections of old-style adventures such as All-About Venus. Whilst this is not true for Ballard, it can be certainly be seen in plenty of others like Dick, Ellison and Silverberg. To misquote the late President, they choose to write in this style, not because it is easy, but because it is hard. There are just as many examples of this style of writing done poorly as there is done well. Just as is the case if you pick up a copy of Amazing in the 20s or Astounding in the 40s.

I do not mean to downplay the value of the former styles of SF (I wouldn’t be reviewing this magazine if I didn’t think it had value) but to show the flaws in Del Rey’s attacks. This is not a considered essay on the value of old-style writing but an ill-conceived personal attack on other writers without much more useful content than you could find in any rambling fanzine letter. A shame to see this from an old hand who should know better.

One Star

The Eld by Miriam Allen deFord

In each generation in each province is born an Eld, an individual able to spit venom, who is the approver of all culture to be produced. This is the story of how Rhambabja’s Eld was forced to kill himself for breaking his sacred duty of impartiality.

This is the first original for the magazine and feels a bit of an odd one. I think it is a criticism of critics but all wrapped up with a strange love triangle and in a world without much depth. At least it is short, readable and still more coherent than Del Rey’s speech.

A low two stars

The Eternal Man by D. D. Sharp

Reclusive scientist Herbert Zulerich, discovers the elixir of life. However, he forgets an important element in the formula and remains alive, but completely unable to move. With no friends to speak of, will anyone be able to help him regain his mobility?

Cover for A Treasury of Science Fiction by Groff Conklin

This vignette was first published in Gernsback’s Science Wonder Stories in August 1929, but is probably better known for being the earliest story included in Conkiln’s legendary anthology A Treasury of Science Fiction.

Apparently, it is featured on many fans “best” lists, although I am not sure I know why. As well as the writing style being poor, it is not particularly original either. It is a basic adaptation of an old fairytale concept combined with the lonely immortal conceit, and even my enjoyment of those kinds of stories cannot overcome its predictability. Add on to that the need to state the moral in neon lights at the ending and I just think the whole thing is very poor.

One Star

The Maiden’s Sacrifice by Edward D. Hoch

This very short piece is the other original for the magazine. Receiving a prophecy of their destruction, Cuitlazuma, ruler of the Aztec nation, commissions his scientists to find the secret of eternal life.

Well-meaning but clumsy is the best way to describe this vignette. It attempts to subvert the common European misconceptions of the pre-Columbian Mexico, but it does not feel entirely successful.

Two Stars

First Fandom by Robert A. Madle

Madle here discusses the formation and work of the First Fandom group. These are people involved in SF pre-1938 and work to celebrate it. Such activities include the First Fandom Hall of Fame (so far given to E. E. Smith, Gernsback, Keller & Hamilton) and publication of the First Fandom Magazine.

Not rating this as it is more of an advertisement than an article.

Why The Heavens Fell by Epaminondas T. Snooks, DTG

Black and white illustration for Why The Heavens Fell showing two men in a laboratory, with the moustachioed scientist looking proud of himself and the other man startled by an unusual ray
Illustration by Frank R. Paul

The biography reveals this was written by C. P. Mason, the associate editor of Wonder Stories and published in the same magazine in 1932. The DTG, stands for “Don’t Tell Gernsback”.

Whatever the writer’s name may be, this story tells of Prof. Shnickelfritz and his various inventions. The problem is the power required to run them at the level wanted is huge due to the law of inverse squares. As such, a lobbying effort begins for the government to repeal it.

Lowdnes makes a big deal out of the fundamental flaw in the story, that the US congress cannot repeal universal laws. However, the real problem is it’s a joke story that is not particularly funny. We are told it is intended to mock unscientific science fiction but it ends up being a dull shaggy dog story.

One Star

Famous #9: A Bit of a Thin (Bed) Spread

Famous #9 Cover

The Forgotten Planet by Sewell Peaslee Wright

Black and White illustration for The Forgotten Planet by Sewell Peaslee Wright with two people opening a heavy vault style door and another two walking out of it
Illustration by H. W. Wesso

The opener here comes from Astounding’s July 1930 edition and is the first of Wright’s series of Cmdr. John Hanson adventures. This premier installment is, surprisingly, structured as a reminiscence of the older Hanson on a classified adventure from his youth. The so called “forgotten planet” (for its name is now scrubbed from all records) has risen in revolt against the Alliance and threatens war with the universe. In order to avoid loss of life Hanson is sent to try to show the inhabitants the error of their ways.

This is a pretty standard space opera of the 30s, the kind of sub-Doc Smith adventures that littered the magazine pages. Whilst the frame is somewhat interesting it contains a number of unexamined questionable choices that dragged the tale down for me.

Two Stars

A Glance Ahead by John Kendrick Bangs

Harper’s Weekly cover for 16th December 1899

The story dates from 16th December 1899 in Harper’s Weekly and republished in Bangs’ collection, Over The Plum Pudding in 1901. Richard Lupoff gives a great introduction to the man, elucidating on his biography and many works.

After falling asleep on Christmas Eve 1898, Dawson wakes up in 3568. A world where people are immortal consciousnesses with choices of bodies, the government runs all industries for everyone’s good, and poverty has been eliminated.

This is another of the Looking Backward style tales, much in vogue towards the end of the last century. Unfortunately, it is not a particularly good example. It is told through a conversation between Dawson’s incorporeal form and his valet, with lots of ejaculation from Dawson of “my word”. Also, several of the ideas would be silly even for the time, such as everyone having so many gold coins from the wealth created that all their cellars are full (paper money was already common as were cheques, whilst Bellamy hypothesized an electronic card-based system). Finally, his utopian views are very much rooted in the rich white society of the time. To take just one example:

“The Negro, Mr. Dawson, if the histories say rightly, was an awful problem for a great many years. He has so many good points and so many bad that no one knew exactly what to do about him. Finally the sixty-third amendment was passed ordering his deportation to Africa. It seemed like a hardship at first, but in 2683 he pulled himself together and today has a continent of his own. Africa is his, and when nations are at war together they hire their troops from Africa. They make splendid soldiers, you know.”

Interesting as a historical artifact, but little more.

One Star

Space Storm by Harl Vincent

The only original in this issue represents what maybe the last work of this recently deceased master of the pulp era.

Within this tale the Hyperion, an outdated space freighter, has been crippled by a magnetic storm and is trying to limp its way back to Earth. We follow second mate Tom Gardner as he suddenly finds himself in command of a failing ship and a mutinous crew.

Having been in correspondence with Vincent, Lowdnes is able to share that he had to give up writing due to his engineering career, and had only been able to take it up again upon retirement. This is a real shame as, unlike some of his contemporaries, he has clearly continued to evolve over the intervening years, with a good understanding of character and clean prose.

I will admit this style of story is not to my tastes so I will give it Three Stars but I wouldn’t be surprised if Niven fans rated it higher.

The Borders of Science Fiction by Robert A. W. Lowdnes

Lowdnes wades headfirst into the contentious subject of “what is science fiction?”. He gives his own idea that “how essential to the story is the science of science element” should be the deciding factor in borderline cases.

This is an interesting concept, but I find he stretches things in his argument. Stating that therefore A Connecticut Yankee and Glory Road are science fiction and almost all works of the New Wave such as The Crystal World are not because “if the [scientific element] was removed the story would be unchanged” feels odd to me.

Still, I enjoy seeing attempts like this. Whilst I favour a broader definition, my other half would favour it being even more rigid (they refuse to even accept Orwellian fiction or scientific disaster stories as SF).  More discussion is always welcome.

Three Stars

Death From the Stars by A. Rowley Hilliard

Black and white illustration of Death From the Stars as one man lies on a bed badly injured as the other pours on to him the contents of a glowing box.
Illustration by M. Marchioni

This comes from Gernsback’s Wonder Stories of October 1931 and seems to replace the previously advertised Thief of Time by S. P. Meek.

George Dixon and Julius Humboldt seek to discover if life can exist on meteorites. To do this they combine the powder of a meteorite with animal and plant matter into a block. However, whilst observing it, the rays from it horrifically change George. He now radiates death to anything near him. Can Julius help restore his friend?

I found the entire thing hard-to-read pseudo-scientific gobbledygook.

One Star

First Fandom by Robert A. Madle

Madle uses the column this issue to discuss what happened at the last meeting of First Fandom at Baycon. Given they have their own magazine, can they not just print this there?

The Derelict of Space by Ray Cummings

Black and White Illustration of Derelict of Space where the crew of a spaceship leave to investigate the time machine floating in space
Illustration Frank R. Paul

Our last tale was first published in the 1931 Fall issue of Wonder Stories Quarterly, from a plot outline by William T. Thurmond.

A ship’s crew discover a long-lost vehicle floating in space. This device was one Ronald Deely had disappeared in decades ago, claiming he could use it to travel in time. This derelict “Ship of Doom”, as it is nicknamed, did not have any space travel capacity, so what happened?

Before this I had yet to read anything of Ray Cummings I had enjoyed and, whilst this is better than some, I still have not. The solution to the mystery will probably be obvious to most readers within the first few pages and, for a story that relies on character interactions everyone is remarkably wooden. There are some atmospheric moments but that is all I can think to recommend it.

A low Two Stars

The Final Reckoning
Article listing scores for previous issues.
They came be summarised as follows:
Issue #6:
1. The Individualists by Laurence Manning
2. The Invulnerable Scourge by John Scott Campbell
3. The Hell Planet by Leslie F. Stone
4. More Than One Way by Burt K. Flier
Issue #7:
1. Fires Die Down by Robert Silverberg
2. Not by It's Cover by Philip K. Dick
3. The Elixir by Laurence Manning
4. Men of the Dark Comet by Festus Pragnell
5. Away from the Daily Grind by Gerald Page
Issue #8:
1. Dark Moon by Charles Willard Diffin
2. Eternal Man by D. D. Sharp
3. The Maiden's Sacrifice by Edward D. Hoch
4. Why the Heavens Fell by Epaminodas T. Spooks DTG
5. The Eld by Mariam Allen de Ford

Just a quick look at the other readers' views of the stories in the penultimate 3 issues. We are actually pretty aligned on much of it, although I rate the Sharp and Campbell stories lower. I was sure why Lowdnes says the Silverberg is an original when I have a copy in my Nebulas. However, after conversing with the author he said that US editors generally pay little attention to UK publications, so it is probably simply a case of ignorance.

An Ending?

In the editorial and letters pages Lowdnes reveals that the magazine is no longer on a regular schedule, cannot accept any more subscriptions and contains no details of future contents. This is apparently due to the problems of distribution on American newsstands making the financial situation untenable.

Anthology covers For All about Venus, Future Tense, The Other Side of the Clock, 100 Years of Science Fiction, A Sense of Wonder, Unknown Worlds
A few other places you can get the “Good Old Stuff”

Magazine of Horror had these problems a few years back and was able to return so we will have to see if Famous does too. However, I wonder if anthologies are now filling this niche, bringing in a mix of 30+ year old SF with newer pieces.

Whatever the case, it appears its current 15 minutes in the spotlight is up. But if it does return, you can be sure we will be here to cover it.