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[November 9, 1964] Shall We Gather At The River? (January 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

You Only Live Twice


Cover art by Richard Chopping

I trust that the spirit of the late Ian Fleming will forgive me for stealing the title of the last James Bond novel to be published during his lifetime. (Rumor has it that at least one more may be published posthumously.) Those evocative four words bring to mind the notion of life after death.

Since the dawn of consciousness, human beings have pondered the possibility of an afterlife. From reincarnation to oblivion, from Paradise to Gehenna, countless visions of an existence after death have filled the imaginations of poets, prophets, and philosophers.

But what about science fiction writers?

Few SF stories dealing with the subject come to mind. There are, of course, many tales of fantasy about survival beyond the grave, often comic versions of Heaven or terrifying visits to Hell. Science fiction, with its disdain for mysticism (despite a weakness for pseudo-scientific premises that are just as fantastic) generally ignores the question.


This 1962 novel is a rare exception.

It is remarkable, then, that almost half of the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow consists of a novella with a large cast of characters who have all died and been resurrected, without the need for a supernatural explanation.


Cover art by George Schelling.

Wanted: Dead or Alive

In fact, a few of the other pieces in the magazine feature characters who may have died, and who may have come back to life, although these are more ambiguous than the lead story.

Day of the Great Shout, by Philip Jose Farmer


Illustrations by Virgil Finlay.

A man who knows he died finds himself alive, nude, hairless, in a young and healthy body, floating in empty space, surrounded on all sides by countless others in his condition. After falling through the void and having a dream about an encounter with God, he wakes up on a new world.

(The author never gives this planet a name. The fact that the stars are different, along with other details, make it clear that it's not Earth. For convenience, let's call it Riverworld, based on the most notable physical feature of the place.)

All around him are other naked, bald people, mostly in a state of panic. One can't blame them, since this afterlife doesn't resemble anything they imagined. When they calm down a bit, it becomes clear that they are now in the valley of a wide river, surrounded on both sides by impassible mountains. A curious device, obviously making use of extremely advanced technology, provides them with food, and even luxury items such as tobacco and lipstick.


A fellow who has an unfortunate encounter with the device proves that it's possible to die a second time.

By this time, we find out that our protagonist is the famous Victorian adventurer Richard Francis Burton. It might be a good idea to list the other characters who play major roles during his adventures on Riverworld.

Dramatis Personae, in order of appearance:

Monat Grrautuft, an alien who died on Earth during the Twenty-First Century.

Kazzintuitruuaabemss, an ape-man who died sometime during the dawn of humanity. Fortunately for the reader, he'll be called just Kazz for the rest of the story.


Kazz in battle.

Peter Frigate, a writer born in Terre Haute, Indiana, in 1918. If that sounds familiar, that's because his time and place of birth are identical with the author's. Given that he has the same initials, it's clear that's he meant as a fictionalized self-portrait. He died during the same incident that led to the death of the alien.

Alice Pleasance Hargreaves, the woman who inspired Lewis Carroll to write Alice in Wonderland.

Lev Ruach, a man who also died at the same time as Frigate and the alien. (It turns out that a grave misunderstanding between aliens and Earthlings led to both being wiped out. The main reason for this apocalyptic incident, I think, is so the author doesn't have to deal with people from the far future. Everyone who has ever died on Earth is now alive on Riverworld, so limiting the timescale from prehistory to the Twenty-First Century makes his job a little less daunting than it might be.)

Gwenafra, a seven-year-old girl who died in ancient Gaul. We find out later that children who died before the age of five are somewhere else, not specified.

These are just the good guys. After some time passes, given the nature of humanity, war and slavery develop on Riverworld. Burton and his companions battle the forces of the infamous Nazi leader Hermann Goering and Tullios Hostilios, a legendary king of Rome, long before it became a Republic and then an Empire.

After this violent conflict, our heroes find out that a man is not what he seems to be, and we learn something about the origin and purpose of Riverworld.


The discovery involves the ability of Kazz to see things that the others can't detect.

The premise is a fascinating one, and Farmer develops the setting in convincing detail. There's plenty of action, and a generous number of science fiction concepts to hold the reader's interest. My only complaint is that the story is open-ended, with Burton ready to continue exploring Riverworld. I suspect that a sequel or two is in the works, perhaps leading to a full novel.

An anticipatory four stars.

Field Weapons Tomorrow, by Joseph Wesley

The first of two nonfiction articles in this issue imagines what the equipment used by an ordinary foot soldier of the near future might be like. Sensitive radar detects enemies, and small missiles of various kinds serve to identify and destroy targets. The author makes use of a couple of fictional characters to demonstrate the technology, enlivening a rather dry subject.

An interested three stars.

Retreat Syndrome, by Philip K. Dick


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

Starts with a guy stopped for speeding in his futuristic vehicle. This mundane beginning soon turns weird as the fellow moves his hand through the dashboard of his one-wheeled car as if it weren't there. We're firmly in the territory that the author explored in previous works; what is reality?

Flashing back reveals that the man remembers killing his wife with a laser gun when she threatened to reveal plans for a revolution against Earth by colonists on Ganymede. His psychiatrist advises a visit to the woman, who is apparently alive and well on Earth.


Did this happen or not?

The guy thinks he's been brainwashed, and that he's not on Earth at all, but still on Ganymede. A mind-altering drug may be involved.

The truth is a little more complicated than that. The fellow winds up committing what promises to be an endless cycle of attempted murders that might not be real.

Touches of what Simone de Beavuoir might call (sexual) 'oppression' make reading an otherwise intriguing story uncomfortable. We're told that the woman intended to betray the revolution out of petty spite and female bitterness. Another direct quote from the protagonist:

Like all women she was motivated by personal vanity and wounded pride.

That's a pretty wide-sweeping indictment of half the human race, even if we accept the fact that the main character isn't in his right mind. Trying to ignore this unpleasant part of the story, I found it to be compelling, with one of the author's more accessible plots.

A slightly offended four stars.

The Pani Planet, by R. A. Lafferty


Illustration by Norman Nodel.

The commander of a military expedition on an alien planet dies. The only native inhabitant who bothers to speak to the humans offers to fix the broken man. Rejecting this as ridiculous, the new leader buries the dead officer, who treated the aliens decently, and initiates a new, harsher policy. You won't be surprised to find out that the deceased commander returns to life. Of course, not all is what it seems to be.

Typical for the author, this story combines whimsy with tragedy. There's comedy in the broken English of the alien, and the tale ends with a joke, but there's also torture and death. The details of the plot are gimmicky, but it's worth reading.

An ambiguous three stars.

Stella and the Moons of Mars, by Robert S. Richardson

Our second nonfiction article rehashes material that appeared in the December 1963 issue of the magazine. Once again, we go over the remarkable fact that Jonathan Swift seems to have predicted that Mars would prove to have two moons, long before they were discovered, in his satiric classic Gulliver's Travels. After talking about the history of the sighting of the satellites, and discussing their known and speculative properties, the article half-seriously suggests that Swift might have seen them through a telescope and slyly announced the fact in the pages of his book. At least the author is honest enough to admit that this hypothesis is impossible, given the limitations of telescopes in Swift's time. We learn a little about the moons of Mars, but the rest is old hat.

An overly familiar two stars.

The Dead Ones, by Sydney van Scyoc

Once again we have death and revival, of a sort. A man is horribly injured in an industrial accident, and is presumed to be near death. Not much later, he turns up perfectly fine. His son-in-law smells something fishy, and finds out the truth about the mysterious health care system of this future world. There's a twist ending you may see coming.

This story features some of the most implausible happenings I've ever read. First of all, you have to believe that one secretive company controls all health care. Secondly, you have to accept that nobody minds the fact that they experience loss of memory during routine physical exams. Thirdly, you have to presume that the hero is the only person who has ever questioned the fact that many people approach death from disease or injury, yet are completely healed right away in some unseen manner.

A skeptical two stars.

Manfire, by Theodore L. Thomas


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

The bizarre, and probably imaginary, phenomenon known as spontaneous human combustion becomes a worldwide plague in the near future. (The author calls it pyrophilia, but that seems like a very misleading term. The victims of this horrible death certainly don't love it!) Governments make use of all possible resources in an attempt to solve the problem.

Off to secure the remains of a victim.

The United States Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare contacts an eccentric, reclusive genius to see if he can help.


Our hero.


A victim.

The fellow investigates things in his own way, eventually setting up a team of experts to work on the mystery from a strictly theoretical viewpoint.


He also makes sure that they have plenty of booze.

Other than some gruesome scenes of people being consumed by flames coming out of their bodies, and investigators collecting the grisly remains for study, there isn't much to this story other than the main character's method of attacking the problem. The point seems to be that throwing a bunch of highly intelligent people in a room and having them come up with speculative hypotheses is superior to the methodical collection of data. I'm not sure I agree with that, since both are important. The explanation for the rise in spontaneous combustion reveals some ingenuity on the part of the author, but is rather anticlimactic.

A disappointed two stars.

Can These Bones Live?

Like people, most stories have a limited lifetime. A lucky few gain something like immortality, reprinted in anthologies that survive when others fade away. The two authors named Philip have a good chance of seeing their creations resurrected from the pages of the magazine, into new bodies in the form of books. The other writers, maybe not as much. Only time can tell, and, like the afterlife, nobody really knows anything about the future.

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[November 7, 1964] Landslides and Damp Squibs (December 1964 IF)

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by Gideon Marcus

In Your Heart, You Knew He Was Wrong

It's been a month for dramatic political change.  In the Soviet Union, Khruschev was deposed after eight years in power, and the British Labor party came to the fore after thirteen years in the wilderness.  And in the United States, the reactionary politics of Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater have been loudly repudiated: Lyndon Johnson has been elected President in the biggest landslide in recent memory.

On his coattails, Democrats have ascended to high offices around the country.  In the Senate, Robert Kennedy beat incumbent Ken Keating for the open New York seat, Joseph D. Tydings trounced incumbent James Glenn Beall in Maryland, and Joseph M. Montoya smashed appointed incumbent Edwin L. Mechem in New Mexico.  Only in California did former hoofer George Murphy win against the Democrat, Pierre Salinger, in something of an upset.  What's next for the Golden State?  Ronald Reagan as Governor?!

And in the House, Democrats picked up a whopping 37 seats.  This means that the party of Jackson and Roosevelt (#2) has not only the White House, but veto-proof control of both houses of Congress.  It's likely that The Great Society will continue unabated through the next two years.

Even in the science fiction world, revolutions are happening.  Avram Davidson is leaving his post at F&SF (thank goodness), and Cele Goldsmith, at the helm of Fantastic and Amazing, has gotten married. 

But with this month's IF, editor Fred Pohl's neglected third daughter, things are not only business as usual, they're a little worse…

The Enemy is Us


by Gray Morrow

When Time Was New, by Robert F. Young

We begin with a tale of time travel.  Howard Carpenter, a native of 2156 A.D. Earth, has gone back to the late Cretaceous in his "Triceratank", designed to fit in with the Mesozoic fauna.  His mission is to find out why there is a modern human skeleton lying in 80 million year old strata.

But once there, he finds two children, Marcy and Skip, who are on the run from kidnappers.  But these kids aren't time travelers — they're actually space travelers from a contemporary (to the far past) Martian civilization!


by Gray Morrow

Thus ensues an adventure whose style and subject matter would make for a fine kiddy comic or Danny Dunn adventure, but which is somewhat jarring for a grown-up mag.  Also, I find it highly improbable that a race of humans identical to those on Earth (specifically, the blonde, blue-eyed kind) would arise on Mars, and 80 million years ago, no less.  A slightly lesser quibble is the appearance of Brontosaurs; they were long extinct by the Cretaceous period. 

And then there's the relationship between the 32 year old Carpenter and the 11 year old, however precocious, Marcy.  It's all very innocent and largely on Marcy's part. I can't say more without spoiling the story, but in the end, we get a situation not unlike the reveal in The Twilight Zone episode, The Fugitive.  I didn't mind it all that much, but some may find it off-putting.

Anyway, I'm sure John Boston would give the story one star, two at best.  But Robert Young, even at his worst, is still a pretty good author, and despite the story's flaws, I did want to know what was coming next.

So, a low three. 

The Coldest Place, by Larry Niven

Niven, a brand new author, takes us to the coldest place in the universe, home to a most unique kind of lifeform.  The kicker, revealing the setting, is interesting, as are the various concepts Niven introduces in the piece.  On the other hand, there's really a bit too many ideas here for the short space allotted, so the story doesn't really go anywhere.

I have a suspicion that, given proper time to develop, this author may be one to watch. 

Three stars.

At the Top of the World, by J. T. McIntosh


by Nodel

Two hundred years after the last war, Gallery 71, deep underground, prepares for Ascension Day.  What awaits them on the surface?  Is there even a sky?  Or all the legends just mythical doubletalk?

It's a good setting for a story, not dissimilar to the author's previous 200 Years to Christmas, but the ending is both a fizzle and a letdown.  Also, I could done with less of the author's unconscious sexism.  No father admirers his daughter's "exquisite curves" and I would have expected a greater role for women in the piece than two teenagers of little consequence.

Another low three.

Pig in a Pokey, by R. A. Lafferty

Lafferty, whose middle name would be whimsy if it didn't start with an A., offers up a duel of wits between a porcine head-collector and the human who would claim the former's asteroid.

Neither foul nor fine (which makes it "fair", I guess), it's over before you know it.

Three stars.

The Hounds of Hell (Part 2 of 2), by Keith Laumer


by Ed Emshwiller

The bulk of the issue is taken up with the conclusion to Keith Laumer's latest novel.  Last time, John Brandeis was on the run from a horde of demonic dog things who assumed human guise and filched human brains.  Brandeis went so far as to have his body highly cyberneticized so that he could fight the hell hounds on an even footing.  With the help of the feeble-minded sailor, Joel, he managed to give them the slip.

But not for long.  Upon arriving in America, Brandeis' worst fears are realized: the aliens have taken over key positions of authority, probably throughout the world.  Worse, when he lures one of them to a remote spot in Colorado, in the hopes of ambushing and interrogating one of the invaders, Brandeis is, in turn, ambushed and killed.

And when he wakes up, it's in the body of a 70 foot tank, waging a war against other brain-run tanks on the Moon!


by Ed Emshwiller

Hounds of Hell has a lot of promising threads.  It could have been an exploration of what it is to be human in an increasingly inhuman body.  The robot tank angle, brilliantly explored in prior stories, could have been developed as a sort of prequel to those pieces.

The problem is, we never learn a damned thing about Brandeis, nor do we really care about the world that the Hell Hounds have taken over.  The only character with any substance is Joel, and he plays a minor role.  In the end, Hounds is a series of action scenes that aren't even up to the author's normally decent standard.

Two stars; two and a half for the book.

The Results

IF used to be Galaxy's experimental twin.  It was a magazine with rawer authors and more outré stories.  Now that Pohl has to spread his material three ways, IF seems to be the dumping ground for the least worthy stuff.

This month, at least, it wasn't worth the 50 cent cover price.  A poor issue to accompany the Christmas subscription renewal drive!

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[November 5, 1964] The State of the Solar Empire: Perry Rhodan in 1964

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Cora Buhlert

Here in Germany, the Iron Curtain just got a tiny hole, because since November 2, East German pensioners are allowed to visit friends and family in the West. In the first few days, hundreds of elderly people availed themselves of the opportunity to see loved ones they had’t seen in years.

East German pensioners at the Oberbaumbrücker border crossing in Berlin, visiting family, friends and loved ones for the first time in many years.
This elderly lady from East Berlin got to embrace her son for the first time since the Wall was built three years ago.

Nobody is under any illusion that this is anything but a propaganda coup for East German leader Walter Ulbricht. Pensioners are considered more of a burden than an asset to the so-called German Democratic Republic, so the East German state does not mind if they decide to stay in the West. But the many families who are finally reunited do not much care about Ulbricht’s political machinations – they are just happy to see their loved ones again.

Meanwhile on the music front, the West German charts have been dominated by a curious song called "Das kommt vom Rudern, das kommt vom Segeln" (That's from rowing, that's from sailing) by Peter Lauch & die Regenpfeifer, a band which has made its name with mildly risqué novelty songs. Hint, the lyrics are not really about rowing and sailing, but about other physical activities in which adults engage. Personally, I find the song rather silly, but it has clearly hit a nerve, because it was playing all over this year's Freimarkt, the annual autumn fair which has been held in my of my hometown of Bremen since 1035 AD. Yes, you read that correctly. This year was already the 929th Freimarkt.

The Freimarkt has changed a lot in the past 929 years. In fact, it has even changed a lot in the past ten years. The technology of fairground rides is improving steadily and new rides are debuting every year. This year, we even had two space themed rides, the rocketship ride Titan and Sputnik, a spectacular ride where a tilting ring of cars orbits a globe that represents the Earth. Both rides are a lot of fun and probably as close as an ordinary human like me will get to outer space in the foreseeable future.

The "Titan" rockship ride as well as the old standby "Wellenflug", a chain swinger ride and "Round-up" at the Bremer Freimarkt.
The spectacular Sputnik ride, built by Anton Schwarzkopf, at the Bremer Freimarkt.

Checking in on Perry Rhodan

Talking of outer space, it has been more than a year since I last discussed Perry Rhodan, Germany’s most popular science fiction series. So it’s high time to check in on Perry again to see what he’s been doing this past year.

Quite a lot, it turns out. Since the Heftroman issues of Perry Rhodan are published weekly now, the plot moves at a brisk clip. Furthermore, a monthly companion series of so-called Planetenromane (planet novels), 158 page paperback novels, premiered in September. The third issue just came out. Many Heftromane have paperback companion series, but most of them just republish old material, occasionally by literally stapling unsold issues together and adding a new cover. The Planetenromane, on the other hand, offer all-new stories, often side stories, which don't quite fit into the main series.

The cover of the first "planet novel", "Planet of the Mock" by Clark Dalton a.k.a. Walter Ernsting

The lives of Perry Rhodan and his friends remained busy in the regular series as well. Perry Rhodan in particular had to deal with a series of personal losses. First, his Arkonian wife Thora, a mainstay of the series since issue 1, died last year. Next, another character who has been in the series since the very first issue, Perry's friend and brother-in-law, the Arkonian Crest, heroically gave his life in issue 99.

The Arkonian Crest dies in issue 99 of Perry Rhodan

A Universe With Too Few Women

Particularly, the loss of Perry's wife Thora in issue 78 is still keenly felt after more than a year, because Thora was one of the few female characters in the male-heavy Perry Rhodan universe. There are women in the Mutant Corps that Perry Rhodan founded, a female intelligence agent named Fraudy Nicholson who fell in love with her target played an important role in a recent mini plot-arc and there are other women guest characters as well, but Thora was the only consistent female presence in the series.

Of course, Perry Rhodan is immortal and so it is to be expected that he would eventually move on. And indeed, he gradually fell for Akonian scientist Auris von Las-Toór, whom he met in issue 100. Auris also developed feelings for Perry, even though they found themselves on different sides during a conflict with the Akon. And when Auris finally deserted her family and homeworld to be with Perry, she was killed in the ensuing battle in issue 125.

Perry Rhodan and Auris von Las-Toór on the cover of issue 107.

Perry Rhodan's tendency to kill off its few female characters is troubling, especially since half of the cast is immortal. Though it has to be said that quite a few male characters were also built up, sometimes over several issues, only to be unceremoniously killed off. Perry Rhodan fans have taken to calling this practice "voltzen" after writer William Voltz in whose stories this frequently happens.

What Perry Rhodan really needs is some women on its writing staff, which currently is all male. Perry Rhodan co-creator Walter Ernsting a.k.a. Clark Dalton frequently translates stories by female American science fiction authors, so he isn't averse to science fiction written by women at all. So why doesn't he invite some German woman writers to join the Perry Rhodan staff? Plenty of women read Perry Rhodan, so it would only be fair of some of them got to write for the series.

A Family Tragedy

Being related to Perry Rhodan is clearly a risk to your health, as the example of Perry and Thora's estranged son Thomas Cardif shows, for Thomas became increasingly hostile and tried to depose his father. I was not a huge fan of the Thomas Cardif story arc, if only because Cardif's initial motivation is only too understandable. After all, Thomas Cardif was raised in secret, not knowing who his parents were, supposedly for his own safety. And once he learns the truth, Thomas blames Perry Rhodan for his difficult childhood, not entirely without reason. After his first attempted coup, Perry Rhodan orders Thomas Cardif's memories hypnotically wiped (because keeping him in ignorance of his true origin worked so well the first time). As a result, Thomas becomes even angrier when he recovers his memories and goes on a worse rampage than before. He even captures and impersonates his father for a while. Thomas eventually dies of old age, when his cellular activator, the device which grants Perry Rhodan and his close associates immortality, fails.

Thomas Cardif is killed, when his cellular activator explodes in issue 116.

The story of Thomas Cardif is a tragedy, but a preventable one. Furthermore, our hero Perry Rhodan does not come off at all well in this story arc, because his bad parenting decisions were what caused Thomas to go rogue in the first place. Conflicts between a parent generation still steeped in the propaganda of the Third Reich and a younger generation that demands the truth about all the ugly history that was swept under the rug are currently playing out all over Germany, so it is only natural that a series as popular as Perry Rhodan would reflect that conflict. However, the overwhelmingly young readers did not expect that Perry Rhodan of all people would side with the reactionary parent generation.

Thomas Cardif was not the only one who challenged Perry Rhodan's rulership over the Solar Empire. A group calling itself the Upright Democrats was also disenchanted with Perry's policies and tried to assassinate him. Naturally, Perry survived – he is immortal, after all – and had the malcontents exiled to a distant planet, where they tangled with friendly and hostile aliens for several issues.

In fact, Perry Rhodan introduced several new alien species over the course of the last year, such as the invisible Laurins (named after the invisible dwarf king of medieval legend) and the duplicitous Akonians, who are distant ancestors of the generally benevolent Arkonian race, hence the very similar (and confusing) names. Another welcome new addition to the series are the positronic-biological robots, Posbis for short, a cyborg race that lives on planet with one hundred (artificial) suns. The Posbis were initially hostile towards the humanity, but eventually became close allies after Perry Rhodan reprograms their brains.

The Posbis fight the humans on the cover of issue 144.
The planet of the Posbis, orbited by one hundred artificial suns.

No article about Perry Rhodan would be complete without recognizing artist Johnny Bruck, who has created every Perry Rhodan cover as well as all interior illustrations and spaceship schematics to date. His sleek spaceships, futuristic cityscapes, quirky alien creatures such as the fan favourite character Gucky, the mouse beaver, and – when the plot allows – beautiful women have contributed a lot to Perry Rhodan's success. Bruck is a true phenomenon, not just West Germany's best science fiction artist, but one of the best in the world. Unfortunately, his work is little known outside the German speaking world, but I hope that he will eventually receive the international recognition he deserves.

Quo Vadis Perry Rhodan?

Johnny Bruck's covers are one of the few constants in a series that is in a period of transition, as unceremoniously killing off long-term characters such as Thora and Crest shows. The writing team headed by co-creators Clark Dalton and K-H. Scheer has well and truly outrun their initial outline for a series of fifty Heftromane by now. This is also why Perry Rhodan has felt somewhat disjointed of late, focussing on mini-arcs which last for a couple of issues each and sometimes don't include Perry or any of the other main characters at all. It is obvious that the writers are experimenting, introducing new characters and concepts, while looking for a new direction for the series as a whole. In fact, issue No. 166, which came out this week, doesn't feature any of the main characters and introduces yet another new alien race.

The latest alien race introduced in issue 166, rendered in Johnny Bruck's inimmitable style.

The most successful of the newly introduced characters is Atlan, an ancient Arkonian who crash-landed on Earth in prehistoric times and spent millennia asleep in a dome under the ocean, waking every couple of centuries to protect and guide humanity. During his latest awakening, Atlan not only learned that humans had become a spacefaring civilisation in the meantime and even made contact with his own people, he also encountered Perry Rhodan. After some initial misunderstandings, Perry Rhodan and Atlan became close friends – after all, they both share the same goal, to protect humanity.

Perry Rhodan and Atlan fight on the cover of issue 54. But don't worry, it's all a misunderstanding.

Since his introduction in issue 50, the character of Atlan quickly became a fan favourite, to the point that the covers frequently announce "A new Atlan Adventure", even though the series itself is still named Perry Rhodan. The popularity of Atlan is also part of the reason why longterm series mainstays such as Crest and Thora were written out. And indeed, Atlan has pretty much taken over the role as Perry Rhodan's alien best friend that was once filled by Crest. I am not as enamoured with Atlan as many other readers seem to be and also wonder why Perry cannot have more than one Arkonian friend. But the character of Atlan is clearly here to stay and has become an intrinsic part of the series, as Perry Rhodan searches for a new direction that will take it to issue 200 and beyond.

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Book, Magazine/Anthology

[October 30, 1964] The Deadly Barrier (November 1964 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Trapped on the wrong side

In the 1940s, the sound barrier was as mighty a wall as the Maginot line.  Planes approaching Mach One lost control of their wings, heat built up and melted vital components — the demon living in this wall refused to let any pass.

It wasn't until 1947, when Captain Chuck Yeager took to the skies in his rocket-propelled X-1, that the barrier was first breached.

Our genre has its own deadly wall. If left unpierced, it leaves a reader like those poor, challenging planes and pilots of yore: broken and dispirited. It is the Three Star barrier, the divide between fine and feh — and this month, five of the six science fiction magazines that came out in the English-speaking world failed to break through it.

Sure, some issues made brave attempts.  Both New Worlds and IF came right to the edge, the latter with some memorable stories, and the former maintaining bog-standard mediocrity down the line. 

But timidity breaks no records.  Playing it safe pierces no barriers.

Cele Goldsmith's mags, Amazing and Fantastic, both fell well short of the mark, managing only 2.6 stars.  Perhaps if she'd lassoed the best parts of both of this month's issues together, she might have managed a breach.

And the less said about the struggling Fantasy and Science Fiction (also 2.6 stars), the better.  Pour one out for a faded glory, folks.

An Analog to failure

That leaves the November 1964 Analog.  Can Campbell's mag, once the undisputed leader of the genre, succeed where all its compatriots have failed?  Read on…


by John Schoenherr

Invasion by Washing Water, by D.R. Barber

But, first, this message.

Are you a British astronomer?  Are you tired of having your photographic negatives eaten by bacteria?  Do you want to know why your shots of celestial bodies get ruined periodically by fuzz and rot?  Well never fear!  D.R. Barber has the answer:

Invaders from Venus.

Yes, Mr. Barber has determined that, when the Earth and Venus are aligned just right, and a major geomagnetic storm is raging, that the conditions are perfect for Venusian microbes to land in England to destroy our film.  Of course, this only seems to happen in England because of vagaries of our atmospheric currents.  And it's impossible for there to be a terrestrial origin for the bugs.  Oh no.

Sigh.  Only in Analog.  One star.

Gunpowder God, by H. Beam Piper


by John Schoenherr

Our first attempt to break the Three Star barrier involves a sideways leap.  Veteran SFictioneer Piper writes of Calvin Morrison, Corporal in the Pennsylvania State Police of Earth — our Earth. Through a freak accident, caused by careless activities of the universe-traveling Paratime authority, Morrison is warped to another Earth.

In this timeline, Indo-Europeans went east instead of west, crossing the Siberian land bridge, and colonizing the Americas.  Come this world's 1964, the eastern seaboard is a patchwork of feudal kingdoms on the brink of a gunpowder revolution.  Calvin Morrison, a Korean war veteran and all-around man of action, is perfectly placed to become a big wheel, the titular "Gunpowder God".  Very soon, he is "Kalvan", organizing the troops of Hostigos against the Nostori Hordes and their tepid allies, the Principality of Sask. 

But the agents of the Level One timeline, sole possessors of the secret of timeline travel, are rushing to stop Kalvan before he gives away Paratime's game…

Piper has basically recycled the plot to L. Sprague de Camp's lovely Lest Darkness Fall, in which a 20th Century man goes back to 6th Century Rome to save it from the Byzantines.  And what Piper does well, he does quite well.  There are fine tactics, good war depictions, the bones of an interesting plot.

But only the bones.  I was expecting a novel; instead I got a short novella.  Everything suffers as a result.  Kalvan is welcomed all too eagerly and learns the local lingo (akin to Greek, it seems) in no time.  His romance with Skylla, a princess who dresses and is treated as a man, is perfunctory — to say nothing of the wasted opportunity to develop such an interesting character!

Plus, there's this weird assumption that Aryans are the catalyst of culture, even though the geography and environment of North America are wildly different from that of Europe — and Europe's technological preeminence was never assured (and largely based on developments in other parts of the world!)

So Gunpowder God skates to the edge of the Three Star barrier but progresses no further.  Strike One.

Gallagher's Glacier, by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond


by Kelly Freas

In the future, corporations have a stranglehold on the solar system's shipping lanes.  One crazy man hatches a plan to install a fusion drive into an ice asteroid and become the first independent trader.  But since the corporations have the monopoly on drive-making equipment, no one can join him in his independence…unless some plucky captain is willing to take his company ship and defect.

Wow.  As written, that sounds like a pretty good yarn!  But when the Richmond's tell it, they give you nothing more than the above paragraph and a lot of padding. 

Glacier barely hits Star Two, much less Three.  And that's Strike Two.

Sweet Dreams, Sweet Princes (Part 2 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Robert Swanson

Our third attempt comes with the second installment of Mack Reynold's latest serial.  When last we left Denny Land, erstwhile Professor of Etruscan Studies and now national gladiatorial champion, he was headed to Spain.  His top secret mission: to meet up with Auguste Bazaine, inventor of the anti-anti-missile technology that could destabilize the world, plunging it into atomic fire.  But though he does manage to find Bazaine at a cocktail party, Denny is sapped on the neck, and Bazaine is kidnapped.  The Sov-world, the West-world, and Common Europe all blame each other.

There is only one resolution: trial by combat.  All three regions will send a three-man team into a one-hectare arena.  Whomever comes out alive will be privy to the anti-anti-missile secrets…if Bazaine is ever found.

I find it ironic that the characters spend so much time lambasting the gladiatorial games, the reliance on bread and circuses of the world's idle masses. Yet this series of books is really just an excuse for some riproaring modern fight fiction.  Is this a subtle message?

Less subtle is the writing, which is competent, but not up to what Reynolds can deliver when he tries.  Bette Yardborough, "the girl" on Denny's spy team, gets the worst of it.  To wit, this immortal dialogue:

Bette said softly, "Between your accomplishments as a scholar, and a . . . a man of violence, I would assume you have had little time for women, Dennis Land."

Was she joshing him?  Denny shot a quick scowl at her.  He growled, "I'm no eunuch."

She laughed again, even as she turned away to go below.  "After seeing you dispatch those two trained Security lads, I'm sure you're not, Dennis."

Sweet Dreams is never going to break the Three Star Barrier with this kind of stuff, even if the fighting scenes and the world Reynolds' created are pretty interesting.  And I don't have high hopes for the conclusion next month, either.

Strike Three!  Oh wait.  The umpire has run onto the field and called FOUL BALL.  Apparently, we can't count an unfinished serial.  All right.  Onwards and…someway-wards.

Guttersnipe, by Rick Raphael


by John Schoenherr

Here's an oddly technical story involving sanitation and water workers… OF THE FUTURE!  Their tremendously complex operation is threatened when radioactivity is found seeping into the drinking supply of one of the cities.  After many loving descriptions of apparatus and mechanisms, the source is found and eliminated.

If anyone could have broken the Three Star Barrier, it'd be the fellow who brought us 400 mph cars in the Code Three series.  Sadly, the piece reads like a science article on water reclamation rather than an sf story.

Mind you, I like articles on water reclamation, but I don't buy Analog to read them.

And so, Rafael's piece falls short of the barrier, somewhere beyond the Star Two line. 

Strike Thr… Oh.  Another foul against the line.  Apparently science factish stories don't count either.  Fine.  One more piece to go.

Bill for Delivery, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

About a decade ago, Bob Sheckley wrote a great little story called Milk Run.  It's about the AAA Ace duo trying to form a livestock shipping company.  Each of the animals on board their one transport had its own foibles, and dealing with one species exacerbated things with the others. 

Chris Anvil's piece is much the same plot except less interesting and more saddening.

Another Star Two piece and (looks around for the umpire) STEEEERIIIIIIKE THREEEEE!

You're Out

In the end, I can't imagine Analog's dismal 2.2 star ranking really surprises anyone.  Still, it would have been nice for at least one of this month's mags to break the Three Star Barrier.  I tell you, it's times like these that I wonder about turning in my quill.

On the other hand, if I may mix my metaphors further, no single panning returns a nugget.  The quest for gold is a diligent process that accumulates the stuff grain by grain.  As bad as this month was in aggregate, it still gave us a decent number of good stories. 

And that's why we keep doing this.  Because without us, you'd be stuck slogging through all the dreck.  Now, you can enjoy the gold without dealing with the dross.

You're welcome.  I need a drink…

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Book, Magazine/Anthology, Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 28, 1964] We Live In Hope (November/December 1964 New Worlds)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After last month’s surprise visit to Science Fantasy magazine, this month we’re back to the wild and wacky realms of New Worlds, to wit, the November/December 1964 issue.

What has happened since we last met? Well, the biggest change here, as the Traveller has already noticed this month, is that as of the 15th October we have a new British Government. My impression is that the governing Conservative Party were fairly confident about their chances of returning, and so it has been a bit of a shock to them to be ousted, having been in power for 13 years or so. It was close though – Labour won a majority by a mere four seats.

I did have a hunch that it would be the younger vote, eager for change, that would decide it – all of those I spoke to saw the Labour Party, led by Harold Wilson, as a means of better reflecting their concerns – and so it appears to be. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that Mister Wilson is the youngest Prime Minister we’ve had in over 150 years, at a mere 48 years old.

Me, I blame it on The Beatles.

Harold meeting the Fab Four in March 1964

 

Talking of music, there’s been some change at the top of the charts here. Herman’s Hermits was at the top of charts for two weeks with I’m Into Something Good, but was replaced by the mighty Roy Orbison, singing Oh Pretty Woman for three weeks. It’s a terrifically powerful song, which I much preferred myself.

However, Roy has now been replaced by Sandie Shaw singing (There’s) Always Something There to Remind Me. It’s quite pleasant and seems to be quite popular in part because Ms. Shaw sings her songs barefoot.

At the cinema Goldfinger is still there and doing very well. I’m not surprised. I expect its success to continue for a while yet.

Other than that, the cinematic pickings have been rather slim, although if you like Westerns, you are in for a treat. I’ve counted three at my local Odeon recently – John Ford's Cheyenne Autumn, starring Richard Widmark and one of my favourite actors, James Stewart, was good. There’s also been Invitation to a Gunfighter, with Yul Brynner, who seems to be trading on his popularity in The Magnificent Seven a few years back. Thirdly, more recently there’s been Rio Conchos, starring Richard Boone and Stuart Whitman.

My favourite movie this month has been Fail Safe, which Rose Benton has already reviewed this month – isn’t it good when movies are released here in Britain at nearly the same time as yourselves in the US? I nearly missed it, as the cinemas were full of Goldfinger at the time, but it was a great nail-biting drama.

If I am really unlucky, the next time I speak to you I may have been dragged, kicking and screaming, to see My Fair Lady, which the trailers are telling me is out in a couple of weeks. (I’m not a huge fan of musicals.) I managed to avoid Mary Poppins back in August, but as a result I fear I may have to see this one. Wish me luck.

The Issue At Hand

This month’s cover by Robert Tilley is striking, but to my mind not as well done as the last few month’s covers. We seem to have gone from covers with a triangle shape to covers with circles. I feel that it is a bit of a step-down, to be honest. It is simpler and more basic than last month’s, for example. Interestingly, this change of cover style seems to be deliberate – there’s a comment in this month’s Letters page that suggests so. Nevertheless, it is still better than the bad old days of the last John Carnell issues, so I shouldn’t complain.

The Editorial examines the idea of ‘bad SF’ on radio, television and cinema. It makes some valid points about how SF stories may become bestsellers in prose but then fail to make the most of this in other mediums. However, the Editorial seems to mainly be an excuse to bad-mouth the movie The First Men in the Moon for not sticking to HG Wells’ admittedly superior novel – “insulting the intelligence, sloppily written, poorly acted and directed.” I didn’t think it was that bad, myself, when I saw it back in August – but then it was either see that or Mary Poppins.

To the stories themselves.

The Shores of Death (part 2), by Michael Moorcock

Look how serious they are!

And we’re straight back into editor Mike Moorcock’s serial, an energetic yet dour story which attempts to bring Space Opera up to date in the 1960’s. After the set-up last time we rejoin Clovis Marca of the 30th century, trying to discover the deeper meaning of life on The Bleak Worlds of Antares before he is driven mad or the Solar System dies.

It’s OK but rather depressing. In the end, it’s all a bit Biblical, with Clovis dying then becoming immortal and eventually wandering off into a proverbial desert. Whilst I think I get what Moorcock is trying to do, I struggled to keep reading through the morass of unremitting bleakness. Nearly fifty pages is a long time to be in pain or be miserable. As a result, I’m not sure I’ll remember it long after finishing the magazine. Spending time at the dentist may be more fun – but as the Reader’s Poll later in the issue will suggest, some may like its tone. It’s a far cry from the optimistic SF of the 50’s. 3 out of 5.

Mix-Up, by George Collyn
A new author to me. Mix-Up is a lighter story, much-needed to relieve the despair that may descend after reading The Shores of Death. It’s a one-idea story though, about what happens when matter transmitters mix up the molecules of a young male scientist and an attractive young female film star. It’s quite entertaining, though the conclusion is rather poor and even rather perverse. What can we say when the two decide to marry each other – is it a recognition of a need for understanding between the sexes or does it reflect a secret wish that all we want to do is marry ourselves? Hmm. A fair debut, though. 3 out of 5.

Look… a new magazine! Sounds quite good.

Gamma Positive, by Ernest Hill
Ernest is a returning author, having last appeared in New Worlds in the Carnell era, in January 1964. How long ago that seems!

Really though, this is nothing new, and could be a leftover from the Carnell editorial-ship – another story of the consequences of experimenting with new drugs. In this case the treatment appears to allow time travel, a favourite theme of editor Moorcock, but to me the story is really a thinly disguised attempt to make the point that time seems longer when imbibing narcotics. Dare I say that time just seemed to become longer by reading this story because it seemed to take ages to go nowhere? We’ve been here before. Yawn. 3 out of 5.

Just in case you didn't get the Biblical message! Image by Harrison.

Some Will Be Saved, by Colin R. Fry
Another writer new to me. Unfortunately, this is another story that attempts to dress up Biblical allegory in a science-fictional setting – it seems to be a theme this month. This is a sardonic take on the Garden of Eden – in a modern post-apocalyptic setting. The Biblical references are rather unsubtle – further emphasised by the fact that the two main characters are named Adam and Eve, for example. Points are given for trying to be a little scandalous, being a contemporary rewriting of the story of the Garden of Eden, but sadly it is another tale that, having made the point that the future is bad and that there’s no place for religion in it, doesn’t seem to go anywhere. In the end, it just exudes a depressingly dark sense of irony. 3 out of 5.

The Patch, by Peter Woods
Peter Woods is, as I have said before, Barrington J. Bayley writing as someone else. This time, the novella is one of those that is Science Fantasy – spaceships and atomic missiles mixed up with Kingdoms and Princes set against a civil war and an impending planetary disaster with the arrival of The Patch. It’s perhaps the story I’ve most enjoyed this month, but reads like an inferior form of Jack Vance or Poul Anderson’s work. Some of that dialogue is astoundingly clunky, and this is another story with a dreadful ending. 3 out of 5.

Emissary, by John Hamilton

The emissary being condescending to children.

Another writer new to me. In a grim Northern industrial town a stranger is seen, patting children on the head at a local school (hence the picture above) and making notes on everything else. His origin and purpose are unknown, which creates concern, fear and mistrust in the town’s populace. The point of the story is to discover the stranger’s purpose – is he a force for good or evil? The story does well to create a sense of unease, but by the end it fritters away to nothing substantial.
3 out of 5.

When is a review not a review? When it's an advertisement (I think.)

 

Onto the Book Reviews by Moorcock’s alter-ego, James Colvin.

Notice those book titles… MJM? Could it be "Michael J Moorcock"? Hmm.

The article focuses mainly on publications by Dobson’s Books, one of the first publishers here in the UK to regularly publish SF, with varied results. Eric Frank Russell’s latest, With A Strange Device, is found to be slightly disappointing, but likeable for those ‘in the mood’.

Contrastingly, the reviewer found Robert A Heinlein’s collection The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag more enjoyable than he expected. It is a grudgingly positive review – I get the impression Colvin really didn’t want to like it, but did. Alan E. Nourse’s collection The Counterfeit Man is contrarily summarised as “bad literature but good SF”. Isaac Asimov’s The Martian Way is a collection from an author that the reviewer finds “frustratingly good… in that he is good – but you know he can be even better.”

Of the paperbacks, the publication of Second Foundation, Asimov’s final book in the Foundation Trilogy, is “guaranteed top SF”, Robert Manvell’s The Dreamers is a horror story “better than (Dennis) Wheatley”,  whereas Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged is summarised with the statement “Never has such terrible old rubbish appeared between the covers of a book“ and August Derleth’s collection From Other Worlds is “mediocre”.

Even when I don’t agree with his comments, I must admit that I find Moorcock/Colvin’s comments entertaining.

In terms of the Letters, there’s a letter suggesting that the magazine is becoming more literate – something the Editor will no doubt be pleased about – and the fact that the sense of wonder, once important to SF, seems to have departed at the same time. The change in the cover style, as mentioned earlier, is also discussed.

The verdict's in on the last issue…. even if I disagree!

As ever, the reader’s ratings of recent issues make interesting reading. Just to show you how out of touch I clearly am, readers rated the first part of the Moorcock serial top last issue. This suggests that this month’s conclusion may fare equally well, to my bemusement.

Summing up

This issue of New Worlds is OK, but I’m less enamoured than the previous issues of the new ownership. Considering the title of the Editorial, this one is actually a bit bleak and depressing. This issue seems to rely less on Moorcock’s usual team of friends and associates but actually seems worse for it.

Overall, my abiding impression is that this is all a bit so-so. This may be because the repeated themes – drugs, religion – are rather groan-worthy. Whilst we’re not as depressingly poor as the bad-old-days at the end of the Carnell editorialship, I was surprised that this issue was rather mundane, which is amusing considering that two of the stories involve religious themes that would suggest a higher order of things. Cheer up, Mike – things are not as bad as you think!

I should be back to a new issue of Science Fantasy next month. Until next time… have a great Halloween!

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Book, Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 24, 1964] Nothing Lasts Forever (November 1964 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

This Too Shall Pass

There is an ancient fable of Persian origin, retold many times over the centuries, about a monarch who asked the wisest sages in the realm for a statement that could apply to all possible situations. The answer, of course, is the title of this piece.

It is impossible to deny the ephemeral nature of all Earthly things, even if we speculate that the universe may be eternal. (The truth of that is still a matter of scientific debate, as to whether the cosmos will expand forever, or eventually collapse into itself.)

Evidence for the temporary nature of politics, for example, came with the unexpected fall of Nikita Khrushchev from power in the Soviet Union, as discussed by our host in detail.


Americans were caught by surprise, it seems.

Obviously, the most common evidence for the fragility of humanity is the universality of death. To mention just one recent example, Herbert Hoover passed away this month, at a more advanced age than any other former President of the United States.


Let him be remembered for his extraordinary work providing supplies of food to millions of starving Europeans during and after World War One, rather than his failure to deal with the Great Depression.

In a less sober way, the 1964 Summer Olympics, the first to be held in Asia, came to an end as well, with a memorable closing ceremony in the Tokyo setting.


Why summer games in October? To avoid the heat and typhoon season.

Few things are as short-lived as popular music, as shown by the fact that two songs reached the Number One position on the American charts this month. First came Oh, Pretty Woman, a tribute to feminine beauty by singer and guitarist Roy Orbison.


I'm used to seeing him with dark glasses.

This was quickly replaced by the nonsensically titled Do Wah Diddy Diddy by the British group Manfred Mann.


Confusingly, the name of the band is the same as the name of the keyboard player.

In Search of Eternal Life

Fittingly, the two lead stories in the latest issue of Fantastic deal with futile attempts to escape the ravages of time.


Cover art by George Schelling

The Knocking in the Castle, by Henry Slesar


Interior illustrations also by Schelling

We begin with a chilling tale set in modern Italy. A widow attends a party, during which the host suggests an excursion to a nearby castle, said to be haunted. The woman reluctantly goes along, only to scream in fear when a knocking emerges from within the dungeon. A flashback reveals the reason for her horror at the sound.

In the United States, she married a man whose ancestors built the castle. Once a year he goes back to the family estate, where his sister lives year-round, rarely emerging from seclusion. We soon discover that the man is well over two hundred years old, despite his youthful appearance. He returns to the castle for an annual dose of the liquid which keeps the siblings from aging.


The magical elixir, a few drops of which drives back the Grim Reaper.

A violent quarrel breaks out between brother and sister when the man wishes to share the potion with his bride. Driven to extreme measures, the sister hides the key to the chamber holding the supply of liquid in a particularly macabre way.


Extreme measures, indeed.

What follows is a grim account of the man's desperate attempt to find the key before time runs out. It all leads up to the frightening conclusion, explaining the woman's terrified scream.

I found myself imagining this story as one of those Italian Gothic horror movies that make their way to the USA in badly dubbed and edited form. That's one reason I enjoyed it, to be honest. I pictured Barbara Steele, veteran of such films, in the role of the mysterious sister. I could see the gloomy interior of the castle in glorious black-and-white, and hear the spooky violin music on the soundtrack.

From a fan of Shock Theater and Famous Monsters of Filmland, a very subjective four stars.

Elixir for the Emperor, by John Brunner


Illustrated by Virgil Finlay

Our second account of a quest for eternal life also takes place in Italy, but goes back thousands of years to the days of the Roman Empire. A general and a senator plot against the life of a popular emperor. Their subtle plan involves offering a large reward for an effective elixir of immortality, convincing the emperor that it really works, thanks to the deceptive aid of the ruler's trusted slave, and substituting poison.

Complicating matters is an old man, saved from death in the arena by the emperor's mercy. In gratitude, he manages to create a genuine potion granting endless life, but is too late to prevent the emperor from being murdered. He hatches his own plot against those who slew his savior.

This is mostly a story of palace intrigue and vengeance, with just a touch of fantasy. The ancient setting is convincing, and there's a bit of philosophical musing at the end. It's very readable, if not particularly memorable, and not quite up to the author's usual high standard.

A middle-of-the-road three stars.

The Man Who Found Proteus, by Robert Rohrer

The gods of mythology, with some exceptions, enjoy the freedom from death sought by the protagonists of the first two stories. This comic romp features the god Proteus, famous for being able to change into any shape.

A grizzled prospector encounters the deity, first as a moving rock, then in the form of a talking mule, and later as a series of letters appearing on the ground, allowing the god to announce his desires in writing. His wants are simple enough; he's eternally hungry, ready to devour anything the prospector can provide. As you might imagine, things don't work out well for the old sourdough.

For the most part, this is a silly comedy, more notable for a certain amount of imagination than for belly laughs.

A slightly amused two stars.

Seed of Eloraspon (Part 2 of 2), by Manly Banister


Illustrations by Schelling again

The hero of this thud-and-blunder yarn may not be immortal, but it sure seems that way some times. As you may recall from last month, he set out to find the ancient city of the long-vanished, technologically advanced inhabitants of an alien world, accompanied by a warrior princess, an enemy turned friend, and a fellow Earthling. After many battles with the wicked Tharn, and a strange encounter with their mysterious rulers, the Bronze Men, they were about to be killed by huge flying monsters.

The author cheats as badly as any old movie serial, by setting up a cliffhanger from which there seems no escape, and then offering a disappointing way out. It seems that the hero, because he's got the advanced mental powers of what the story calls a magnanthropus, is able to communicate with the creatures. It seems that they're on his side, and want him to fulfill his quest. (There's a weird explanation that the flying beasts, along with other beings on this world, are the incarnation of emotions. That seemed really goofy to me.)


A typical battle. I like the use of the circle.

After getting out of that scrape without any effort, our quartet of adventurers fight the Tharn, get captured, escape, and so on. Eventually the hero discovers the secret of the Bronze Men, which will come as no surprise to anybody who has ever read any science fiction, and triumphs over all challenges. This pretty much just involves pulling a lever, which is pretty anticlimactic.


A defeated Bronze Man, although it sure looks more like a stone statue to me.

I got the feeling that the author really rushed through this half of the story. Things move at a breakneck pace, but without much purpose or meaning. The whole thing just sort of fizzles out at the end, leaving the reader exhausted and unsatisfied.

A disappointed one star.

Hell, by Robert Rohrer

(The Table of Contents credits the story to somebody named Howard Lyon. As best as I can figure out, this is a pseudonym meant to disguise the fact that the author has two pieces in the same issue. Rohrer and Lyon, get it? The Table of Contents also lists the author of The Man Who Found Proteus as Robert H. Rohrer instead of plain Robert Rohrer, so I guess there was some confusion around the editorial offices.)

A man finds himself, as the simple title implies, in the infernal regions. He passes some damned souls lying immobile on a beach under a cloudy sky, then takes a ride across the water with a demonic boatman assumed to be Charon. The fellow has no fear of eternal punishment, because he feels ready to face any psychological torment Hell might provide. As you expect, his attitude turns out to be badly mistaken. In a way, he faces the worst kind of immortality, if only in a spiritual sense.

The ending of this brief tale is not surprising. I never did figure out what the point of the motionless bodies on the beach was supposed to be. The story is decently written, but there's not much to it.

A confused two stars.

The Mermaid and the Archer, by Barry P. Miller


Illustration by Robert Adragna

The title characters in this romantic fantasy are two department store manikins, unable to move but conscious and able to communicate through a kind of telepathy. They were crafted by a master puppet-maker, whose affection for his creations gave them life. A violent storm threatens their physical existence, but a painter is able to preserve their love in his art.

This gentle, bittersweet fable suggests a kind of immortality in the works of gifted artists. Written in a introspective, poetic style, it is sure to touch the reader's emotions.

A sentimental four stars.

Daughter of the Clan, by Wilton G. Beggs

A teenage girl, who was adopted as an infant, experiences a gnawing, unsatisfied hunger. An attempted rape leads to the discovery of her true nature, and she meets others of her kind. A particular kind of immortality is implied.

Despite a certain moody intensity in the author's style, this is a simple, predictable tale, which ends just when it starts to get more interesting. Like the lead story, it attempts to produce old-fashioned chills, but not as effectively.

An unsatisfied two stars.

From Here to Eternity

Although none of the stories in this issue are likely to win undying fame, a couple of them should remain in the reader's memory for quite some time, if not forever. It makes me wonder how long copies of the magazine are likely to exist; if not in paper form, maybe on microfilm or some other medium. Whether anybody will be reading this issue in the distant future is an unanswerable question. Let's just be grateful we can enjoy the best of it here and now.

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Magazine/Anthology

[October 20, 1964] The Struggle (November 1964 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[Have you gotten your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963)? It's got some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age, many of the stories first appearing in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction!)


by Gideon Marcus

The Good Fight

1964 has been a year of struggle.  The struggle to integrate our nation, the struggle against disorder in the cities, titanic power struggles in the U.S., the U.K. and now the U.S.S.R.  The struggle to hold on to South Vietnam, to preserve Congo as a whole nation.  The struggle of folk, rock, Motown, country, and surf against the inexorable British invasion.

So it's no wonder that this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction makes struggle the central component of so many of its stories.  This magazine is wont to have "All Star Issues" — this one is an "All Theme Issue":


by Ed Emshwiller

The Issues at Hand

Greenplace, by Tom Purdom

Purdom, who just wrote the excellent I want the Stars (review coming in the next Galactoscope), depicts a 21st Century in which immortality has created a stranglehold on politics.  Canny machine bosses can hold on to power indefinitely.  Nicholson is a man who would break this power, loading himself up on psychically enhancing drugs and personally investigating "Greenplace", a stronghold neighborhood of the 8th Congressional District.  There, he encounters resistance, violence, and a secret…

Remarkable for its melange of interesting ideas and surreal execution, it's a little too consciously weird for true effectiveness.  Three stars.

After Everything, What? by Dick Moore

Two thousand years ago, genetic supermen ruled the galaxy.  They weren't dictators; rather, they were created by humans to be the best that humanity could be (that's what the story says — I'm not endorsing eugenics).  After a century of dominance, they all died out.

It's a well-written piece, but the conclusion is obvious from the beginning: the ubermenschen struggled against boredom…and lost.

Three stars.

Treat, by Walter H. Kerr

It used to be that, on Halloween, people would wear scary masks so that when they encountered bonafide spooks on their day of free reign, they would be mistaken for compatriots.  Nowadays, the shoe is on the other foot — spooks can only freely walk the Earth on Oct. 31 since everyone mistakes their frightening faces for masks.

Cute?  Three stars.

Breakthrough, by Jack Sharkey

Here, the struggle is Man vs. Machine.  A chess-playing computer betrays its sentience by developing a sense of humor.  So its creator, tormented with feelings of inferiority, shoots the machine dead.

Sharkey can be good.  More often he can be bad.  Here, Sharkey is about as bad as he ever gets.

One star.

Dark Conception, by Louis J. A. Adams

When the Savior comes again, will it be in the form of another virgin birth?  And what happens when the new Mary happens to be Black?

This is the first piece of the issue that has some of the old F&SF power, but the ending doesn't pack a lot of punch since the conclusion is telegraphed, and the author doesn't do much with it.

Three stars for this missed opportunity of a tale.

One Man's Dream, by Sydney Van Scyoc

Against age, all mortals struggle in vain.  A Mr. Rybik has himself "tanked" in life-sustaining fluids in the hopes of purchasing a few more years.  But not for himself — he wants to preserve the other personality who lives in his head, the pulp adventurer called Anderson.  This Anderson is more real to him than even his wife or his kids, entertaining, sustaining, allowing Rybik to enjoy a life of vicarious excitement.

But when Rybik's money runs out, he finds that no one in the real world wants to pony up dough to save a crazy dreamer who neglected his family.  Can Anderson save him now?

Well crafted, it engages while it lasts, and then sort of fades away.  Like Anderson.

Three stars.

The New Encyclopaedist – III, by Stephen Becker

Another of these faux articles written for an encyclopaedia, copyright 2100 A.D.  This one details a latter day crusade against immorality by a McCarthy parody.  Mostly a bore, though there is one genuinely funny line.

Two stars.

Where Do You Live, Queen Esther? by Avram Davidson

Esther is a Creole house-servant.  Her struggle is with her employer, Eleanor Raidy, who treats her poorly.  In typically overwritten fashion, the author details Esther's revenge.  Only Avram can make seven pages feel like 20.

I understand Davidson is quitting the editorship of F&SF to devote more time to his writing.  If this is the kind of stuff we can look forward to, he might consider an altogether different career.  And it's a reprint, no less!

Two stars.

The Black of Night, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A's article for the month details the struggle to answer Olbers' paradox: if the universe be infinite, and stars evenly distributed, why isn't the night sky as bright as the day's?

As one might guess, the issue is with the postulates.  Neither are correct, as we now know.  Asimov does his usual fine job explaining things for the layman.

Four stars.

On the House, by R. C. FitzPatrick

In the earlier story, Dark Conception, the husband of the pregnant Mary confronts Mary's doctor.  Both husband and doctor are Black, but the husband considers the doctor a "Tom" and won't be satisfied with mere equality:

"I don' want what you want, man.  I want what they got and for them to be like me now.  I want to lead me a lynch mob and hang someone who looks at one of our girls.  I want to rend me some of my land to one of them and let them get one payment behind.  I want them to try to send they kids to our school.  I want 'em to give me back myself like I was before, when I didn't hurt so bad that I better off dead."

Fitzpatrick's On the House is a deal with the Devil story, but the protagonist is a Black woman, and all she wants is to change places with "one of them". 

It's another piece that would do a lot better with development beyond the punchline, but I at least appreciate the variation on the theme.

Three stars.

Portrait of the Artist, by Harry Harrison

If there is going to be one struggle that defines the modern age, it's the struggle to reconcile automation with personal dignity.  Harrison, in this piece, shows the mental devastation that happens when even such an imagination-laden field as comic artistry can be done by a machine. 

It was pretty good up to the end where (if you'll pardon the unintentional pun, given how the story ends), Harrison fails to stick the landing.

Three stars.

Hag, by Russell F. Letson, Jr.

Is a witch's pox effective against modern vaccination?

Another pleasant (if forgettable) prose poem.

Three stars.

Oversight, by Richard Olin

Wacky doctor wins his struggle against aging by infusing his cells with planaria (flatworm) DNA.  It has unintended consequences.

Another story with an obvious ending — and this one doesn't make biological sense. 

Olin's last (and first) story was better.  Two stars.

The Third Coordinate, by Adam Smith

We end with the struggle to reach the stars.  The concept is novel: humanity has invented a teleporter, but while direction can be controlled, distance cannot.  What its operators need is three known destinations, coordinates that can be used to calibrate the device so that accurate ranging can be done.

Great idea.  Very poor execution.  Nothing happens for the first 20 pages but some of the clunkiest exposition and character development I've read in a while.  And there's no tension in the end, either.  Pilot succeeds, end of story.

Two stars, and a hope that the theme gets picked up by someone with more chops.

Summing Up

As it turns out, the biggest struggle this month was finishing the damned magazine.  Conflict is vital to any story, but it's only one component.  Execution and development matter, too.  Even Davidson's story intros have lapsed into badness.  I'm looking forward to the editor's departure from F&SF; any change has to be an improvement, right?

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Book, Magazine/Anthology

[October 12, 1964] Slow Cruising (November 1964 Amazing)

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by John Boston

It’s a cliche that those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.  What can one say about those who don’t learn even from what they see around them?  At the University of California at Berkeley, a city within a city in which many thousands of people study, work, and in many cases live, the administration recently decided it will strictly enforce rules prohibiting political advocacy and speech, appearances by political candidates, and recruitment and fundraising by student organizations at a heavily-travelled area (an intersection of the city’s main street!) where such activities were routinely conducted.

Let’s pause for station identification.  This is 1964.  All over the United States, people are standing up for the rights and freedom of individuals, including political rights, most notably the right to vote.  Most of them are Negroes, but you’d think people in responsible positions would realize that a few white people (as apparently are most of Berkeley’s students) might get some funny ideas too—like the ideas of direct action and civil disobedience that they have been seeing on TV, and in some cases in person, for several years. 

You’d also think they would be aware that a significant number of their own students and some faculty members just got back from the Freedom Summer activities in the segregated South, where they lived daily with the risk of physical assault and even death, and are unlikely to be too fearful of university administrators.

So on October 1, the campus police arrested a guy named Jack Weinberg—one of those who went south this past summer—who was sitting at an information table for the Congress of Racial Equality and refused to show his identification.  A crowd formed around the police car, preventing it from moving, and the car became a speaker’s podium for a crowd said to have swelled to three thousand people.  This went on for 32 hours until the university agreed not to press charges against Weinberg, and also agreed to . . . what else? . . . form a committee!  This is to be a student/faculty/administration committee to discuss “all aspects of political behavior on campus and its control, and to make recommendations to the administration.”

What next? Nobody knows.  But one thing seems to be clear: increasingly, infringement on the rights that politically active Americans have come to expect to exercise will be challenged using the tools we all see on TV every week from the civil rights movement.  Authority is no longer its own justification, and those in positions of power, some of whom seem to look to Louis XVI as their role model, will need to change their approach to survive.  As that folksinger put it—I forget his name, the one with the frizzy hair and nasal voice—“you’d better start swimming or you’ll sink like a stone.”

The Issue at Hand


by Alex Schomburg

More prosaically—back to science fiction.  The November 1964 Amazing is distinguished by being the second consecutive issue with a cover depicting a guy in a flying chair, calling to mind the observation of the Hon. Jimmy Walker, erstwhile Mayor of New York City, before fleeing the country to avoid a corruption prosecution: “Never follow a banjo act with another banjo act.” Alex Schomburg’s rather static and solemn depiction of the device contrasts amusingly with Virgil Finlay’s interior illustration, which attempts to imbue the same gadget with all the energy and drama that the cover picture lacks.  Can we say Apollonian versus Dionysian?  I thought not.  Forget I mentioned it.

Rider in the Sky, by Raymond F. Jones


by Virgil Finlay

The story itself, Raymond F. Jones’s long novelet Rider in the Sky, is unfortunately pretty inane, a hardware opera that reads as if it had been dumbed down for prime-time TV.  In the near future, private enterprise is starting to get into the act in space, and Space Products, Inc., has developed the Moon Hopper, essentially a rocket-propelled chair in which a space-suited person can sit and fly over the lunar surface, untroubled by the quantities of fine dust covering it.  But how to market this device?

The Space Products boys (usage highly intentional) decide on a publicity stunt—they’ll get somebody to fly the Moon Hopper from Earth orbit to the moon.  Who?  They’ll ask for volunteers from within the company!  They get one—Sam Burnham, a company accountant and secret space buff, who knows he doesn’t have the right stuff but has indulged his fantasies to the point of installing a centrifuge and an imitation space capsule in his basement. 

Sam’s wife Edna, who spends her copious spare time supporting the cause of the orphans of Afghanistan, is appalled, and leverages her Afghan-symp connections to start a national movement to keep Sam Earthbound.  This, and Edna, are presented in a spirit of condescending sexual oppression of the sort one finds in, say, True: The Man’s Magazine.  I forget if the author refers to “the little woman,” and I’m not going back to look, but that’s the attitude.

After much machination, with the President getting into the act, Sam goes, and his trip takes an unexpected turn, plot mechanics unwind reasonably cleverly, and he and the story are brought to a soft landing.  But the treatment of women, and the smarmy faux-folksy style in which a lot of the story is told, make it difficult to appreciate the admittedly limited virtues of the story.  Two stars, barely.

Enigma From Tantalus (Part 2 of 2), by John Brunner


by Ed Emshwiller

John Brunner’s two-part serial Enigma from Tantalus concludes in this issue.  While it’s not the pretentious mess that his previous effort The Bridge to Azrael was, Brunner has not regained the form of (as I keep saying) his sequence of smart and well turned novellas in the UK magazines. 

Here, humans have discovered Tantalus, a planet inhabited by a singular intelligent life-form with separate units linked telepathically and capable of being molded into a variety of forms and functions.  The crisis that drives the plot is that the Tantalan is believed to have made a fake human (presumably disposing of the real one) and dispatched it on a spaceship to Earth; we can’t let it loose on our planet!  (There is an acknowledgement along the way that the Tantalan appears to be studying humanity just as humanity is studying it.)

So, there’s a bunch of people confined in a small space, and we must learn which is the alien!  This is not exactly an original plot, but Brunner plays it more in the style of a country-house mystery than that of its distinguished and horrific predecessor, Campbell’s Who Goes There?, spiced up by the fact that the passengers are as eccentric a bunch of freaks and neurotics as one could wish for.

Brunner manages the latter parts of the plot capably and trickily enough, but overall the story has two sore-thumb-level problems.  One is that by far the most interesting part is the discovery and opening of communication with the Tantalan, all of which happens off-stage—in fact, before the story opens—and we learn about it only in fragments.  In that sense the story is much too short. 

In another sense, it’s too long.  The other big problem is that here as in The Bridge to Azrael, Brunner wants to wrestle with Big Thinks, in this case chiefly that technological development and affluence have left the run of humanity with a sense of helplessness and lack of purpose.  But his attempts to integrate this notion into the story are perfunctory, or worse; for example, he invokes it to explain the manipulative and nymphomaniacal female journalist who is confined in the spaceship and chewing the furniture.  (This is a conspicuous sour note from a writer whose prior work is notable for strong and relatively cliche-free female characters.) So this exercise in speculative social psychology in the end contributes nothing to the story but verbiage.

Another problem, at least to my mind, is that when something comes up that the machines can’t handle in the ordinary course, Earth is essentially governed by a tiny elite called the “Powers of Earth” (a particularly arrogant and irascible specimen of which conducts the inquiry of the spaceship passengers).  These “Powers” apparently exercise unchecked authority based on their extraordinary powers of deducing correct conclusions from limited information. 

This seems to me a sort of magical thinking, no better than (not much different from, in fact) the recurring notion in another magazine that the future will be dominated by a psionic elite, and about as plausible and useful for thinking about the future as the depiction by Edmond Hamilton and others of galactic empires ruled by hereditary nobles with pompous titles.

One might ask if this criticism is too big a demand to make of popular fiction in newsstand magazines, but Brunner invites it by posing the questions himself.  I don’t want to be hard on the guy for essaying too much, but his ambition is outrunning the format he is writing in, and he will have to find better ways to integrate them, or move on to a different kind of writing.  Anyway, three stars for a nice but flawed try.

Your Name Shall Be … Darkness, by Norman Spinrad


by George Schelling

Norman Spinrad displays his own brand of ambition with Your Name Shall Be . . . Darkness, about an Army psychiatrist captured and subjected to sophisticated brainwashing in the Korean War. He is repatriated, seemingly intact, but . . . .  This is essentially The Manchurian Candidate as applied social psychology, and pretty clever, though done in an overly bombastic style for my taste.  Still, it’s effective: three stars verging on four.

The Seminarian, by Jack Sharkey


by Virgil Finlay

And, last of the fiction, Jack Sharkey . . . is Jack Sharkey, with The Seminarian, about a guy, the son of missionaries, reared on a South Sea island without significant technology who comes to the States to conduct his own missionary work.  It’s a tribute to Sharkey’s superficial skills that his facility distracts one from the story’s complete implausibility.  Two stars.  Sure you don’t want to go into advertising, Jack?

The Lying Stones of Dr. Beringer, by Robert Silverberg


by Virgil Finlay

There’s a new byline on this month’s non-fiction: Robert Silverberg (also now the regular book reviewer) contributes The Lying Stones of Dr. Beringer, apparently the first of a series—it’s labelled “Scientific Hoaxes #1.” It’s about a 16th-Century German scholar who was taken in by a large aggregation of fake fossils, an interesting story in itself (especially in the hands of Silverberg, a much more capable writer than the usual suspect Ben Bova) and one which contributed to a shift in understanding of what fossils actually are.  Three stars.

Summing Up

So, business as usual at Amazing: a couple of nice tries, one dreary failure, one lighter-than-air piece of trivia, plus a better article than usual.  Steady as she goes.

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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 28, 1964] Revelation (Science Fantasy, September-October 1964)

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

Well, this is a pleasant, if unexpected, surprise. I have been getting used to writing about New Worlds magazine every other month.

However, whilst looking at the racks in my local newsagent the other day, to my surprise there was a copy of Science Fantasy, so I bought it. It is the first I’ve seen in a long while, and certainly the first under its new editorialship by Kyril Bonfiglioli, so I am very interested to see what it is like.


Note: Picture is not actually of the author…

I am hoping that this increased visibility is a good sign – an improvement in noticeability can only mean more potential sales. Let’s hope New Worlds can follow. I mentioned in my last article that there was a rumour about the circulation of New Worlds. It seems that readership is up, and that the print run is now nearly double what it was under Carnell. That is wonderful news, although I am aware that New Worlds not only needs to get those numbers of people reading, but also keep them.

Whilst not quite as much as its older companion, it looks like Science Fantasy has also increased its sales.

More on that in a minute.

What else has happened since we last met? Well, the rumoured General Election was announced on 14th September, to no one’s real surprise. The currently governing Conservative Party, having being in power for 13 years or so, seem fairly confident about their chances of returning. Personally, though, I don’t know. The youngsters that I know of all seem to be enthused about the Labour Party under Harold Wilson, claiming that now is the time for change. With what’s been happening socially, and the empowerment of young men and women, Wilson might just stand a chance.

Sierra Exif JPEG

In terms of music, there’s been some change. My favourite track of last month, You Really Got Me by The Kinks actually got to Number One for two weeks, which shows that it isn’t just me who likes it. Currently the saccharine pop of Herman’s Hermits is at the top of charts with I’m Into Something Good. Much more radio-friendly perhaps, but it shows how varied our music is at the moment.

Poster from my local Odeon cinema.

But my biggest news is that I’ve managed to see the latest James Bond, the one the Traveller mentioned last week in his ongoing news ticker. Named Goldfinger, and based on Ian Fleming’s book, of course, I think it’s the best Bond film so far. There’s clearly been a lot of money spent on gadgets and special effects, but most importantly Sean Connery seems to be settling in nicely to the lead role. Gert Frobe makes an admirable bad-guy, although his henchman known as 'Odd Job' is more memorable, for reasons I won't spoil here. Good to see ex-Avenger Honor Blackman in a film (rather than television) as well. There has to be more of these, judging by what I saw. Great stuff.

The Issue At Hand

Well, this is a classier cover than the one on New Worlds, although there’s not much of the ‘Fantasy’ about it. Looks like an ancient alfresco classical painting, which I am sure is deliberate. The two red dots for nipples made me laugh, though.

The editorial is an interesting one. This Science Fantasy editorial from Kyril Bonfiglioni comes across as more straightforward than the Moorcock New Worlds editorials, and combines humour with a tad bit of grumpiness. It’s also rather defensive in its choices, here defending Rudyard Kipling as a Science Fiction writer to beat H G Wells had he continued to write more. However, the editor’s put-down of a disgruntled reader in New York is quite amusing. All in all it’s a great introduction to the issue.

To the stories themselves.

The Blue Monkeys, by Thomas Burnett Swann

So we begin with something that I understand is not typical of Science Fantasy, in that it is the first of a three-parter. This is something common in New Worlds, but judging by the comments by the editor, less so here.

The Blue Monkeys is a story that dips into the well of ideas that is  ancient Grecian myths. In this place giants exist, as do many of the mythological creatures we accept as stories today. It’s a nice set up.

It’s really an alternate story of the Minotaur, through the eyes of Thea and Icarus, two young elf-like children of the Cretan prince Aeacus. They encounter the boorish Ajax, who tries to make moves on the young sixteen year old Thea. Unsurprisingly, Thea and Icarus try to escape and in doing so are rescued by the Minotaur. The twist in the story is that the Minotaur’s reputation is more fearsome than the reality.

If you like tales where the emphasis is on telling a story, I think you’ll like this one. Think of it as a more adult version of the myths and legends of Ancient Greece. It reads very smoothly, and I was engrossed until the point where it ended. I look forward to the next part in the next issue. A great start to the story and the issue. 4 out of 5.

Period of Gestation, by Thom Keyes

And then we have a change of gear,  to an odd science-fiction story that wouldn’t be out of place in New Worlds. Imagine the consequences of unending travel with a group of other men for sixteen years. This tale shows us the result. Frankly it's not pretty, although the editor prefers to refer to it in his Editorial as 'controversial'.  Mad delusions, visions of deity and the resurrection of Jesus Christ are mixed with orgies of chocolate and male pregnancy. Period of Gestation tries to combine humour and satire but becomes too absurd for my tastes. It’s certainly memorable but didn’t really work for me. 3 out of 5.

Anita, by Keith Roberts

Anita is the first of two stories by this author in this issue.

I’m usually suspicious when we get two stories by the same author in one issue. New Worlds does this a lot – it published two Brian Aldiss stories in the June 1964 issue, for example. But I can’t help feeling that surely if the stories are that good it makes sense to spread them out over a number of issues?

Having said that, this first one is pretty good. It is the story of a young girl’s moral awakening as she experiences a wider world. Anita is a young and rather lonely witch whose experience of normal mortals is limited. When her Granny insists that Anita go out of the house to see more of the world and practice her magic, Anita encounters cars, tarmacked roads and makes new friends. Despite warnings from her Granny, Anita becomes friends with a girl named Ruth and her Romany lover Jem. It does not end well, for when Jem leaves Ruth she commits suicide. In a rather Fritz Leiber-style twist, Anita finds herself in the care of an animated zombie.

Anita is a nicely developed character – an innocent who wants to do well, yet who is also lonely and wants to make friends, even if they are human. On the downside, Granny’s strangled language, meant to represent a local dialect, is a bit irritating, but overall Anita’s a nice enough story that brings to light the complications that could be created if the world of magic coexisted with the more mundane Human world. 4 out of 5.

Dummy Run, by Colin Hume

A writer new to me. Another attempt to write a humorous science fiction tale, one where Percy Winkley, a mild-mannered ventriloquist, single-handedly halts a Martian invasion with the use of his ventriloquist’s dummy. Like most of these stories, I find, it’s a minor story that doesn’t always work for me, one that is supposed to amuse but really made me groan. Although it is better than some of the similar stories I’ve read in New Worlds, this is not worth comparing with similar works by more skilled humourists such as Brian Aldiss, Robert Sheckley or John Sladek. 3 out of 5.

Easy as A.B.C., by Rudyard Kipling

I must admit that I’m usually wary of reprints, even when they are good. On a practical level they tend to be for reasons of financial expediency rather than literary merit in my experience, or in a literary sense are old-fashioned and dated.

However, this story, first published in 1912, is worthy of a read as an early proto-sf story from an author not usually remembered for his genre work. The Aerial Board of Control (A.B.C.) is “a semi-elected, semi-nominated body of a few-score persons” who control “The Planet”.

It’s the story of how a global government deals with a global crisis – in this case, when North Illinois takes itself out of the system, causing communication breakdowns and other sorts of chaos. A crack team of A.B.C. operatives are sent to find out why and, if necessary, bring North Illinois back in line.

The issue seems to be that a group of dissidents wish to have more democracy and hold public meetings, which are in defiance of the relatively benign rules of The A.B.C. because invasion of privacy – which these demands impose upon – is seen as a capital offense.

The team realise that action has to be taken quickly in order to quell a rapidly escalating problem. Their solution is to use a new weapon that makes those who hear it temporarily blind and deaf on the populace of Chicago. The dissidents are then rounded up and taken to the World Capital of London, where they are put on display for the entertainment of the masses.

Kyril says in his Editorial that “Kipling was far ahead of his time as a science fiction writer”, and As Easy As A.B.C. shows some interesting if controversial ideas – even today. The story raises the issue of what right an authoritative power has in taking actions to defend the views of the masses, even when such views are different to our own.
It’s not too difficult to see this as a parallel version of the British Empire throwing its considerable weight around. Readers may consider this to be either an acceptable consequence of being ruled by a benign World Council or regard it with horror as the inevitable consequence of accruing and maintaining control. The ending reminded me of the show-trials at the end of the Second World War, or even the more recent McCarthy trials in the USA, and not in a good way.

Some readers may dislike the use of terms such as “Nigger” and characters being referred to derogatorily as “Wandering Jews”, which are a product of their time but sit uneasily with a more contemporary readership. But there are some interesting ideas here that make you think, even when it is not a total success. For all of its issues I can see why Kyril thinks it worth bringing to our attention again.

3 out of 5.

Symbiote, by George Rigg

Another writer new to me. In the blurb George is described as “an Oxford don whose specialism is medieval literature.” However, those expecting an Arthurian romance will be surprised, for instead this is a very short story of the awakening of a form whose purpose for existence appears only to be around ‘the Creature’ – a human alcoholic with delusions. It is very short, verbose and minor in importance, but perhaps a welcome relief to counter the denser tales before it.

3 out of 5.

Escapism, by Keith Roberts

The second of the two stories by this author in this issue. Escapism is a story of what happens when an out-of-the-way, dilapidated little picture house is hired to check the rushes of a movie being made about the ancient battle of Sedgemoor. Nothing too unusual there – except that the movie is so realistic that the audience feels like it is there, with surround sound.

Perhaps my favourite story of the issue. There’s humour which works and characters I really liked.
5 out of 5.

Love Feast, by Johnny Byrne

And yet another writer new to me, but one who I gather is quite well known and popular in British genre circles. Love Feast is a weird little short-short about a creature offering itself up to be eaten by another. Odd – which may be the point, but not a favourite for me. 2 out of 5.

Notice: no book review section or letters page (which is why the Editor used a letter in his editorial this month, I guess): that’s your lot. Unlike New Worlds, in Science Fantasy it’s all about the fiction within, which again makes a refreshing change.

Summing up

I’m pleased I got a hold of this issue. Like Moorcock in New Worlds, Bonfiglioli is clearly determined to make his mark on the magazine. The two magazines are definitely different, but not entirely to the exclusion of the other.

I suppose that if New Worlds is the British equivalent of Analog, then Science Fantasy must be the British equivalent of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction – something that should amuse fellow Traveller Gideon, as I gather from his recent reports that he’s not too keen on F&SF at the moment! But the comparison seems apt to me.

Out of the two, I think that Science Fantasy has broader appeal but is more conservative than New Worlds. Yes, it is trying to break new ground – there’s a very interesting comment made by Kyril about Conan-esque sword and sorcery in this issue, for example – but it’s not as ‘out there’ as New Worlds.

This may not necessarily be a bad thing. I wasn’t expecting to say this, but out of the two most recent issues of the magazines the revelation for me is that I think Science Fantasy is a stronger, or at least more enjoyable, issue. Or at least it may appeal to a wider readership. If sales have increased, I think I can see why.

In short, I am impressed, and I hope that my ability to get issues of this magazine will continue. There are three stories here I loved (the two Keith Roberts’ and Thomas Burnett Swann’s reimaging of Greek myths) and the rest are not a disaster. I’ll have to look at a subscription, like I do for New Worlds, perhaps. The next issue will be out at the end of November.

However, I should be back to a new issue of New Worlds next month. Until next time…

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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 24, 1964] Looking Backward (October 1964 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

The Past is Prologue

The closing of two amusement parks in recent days caused many to look back nostalgically on the innocent fun of yesteryear.

Freedomland U.S.A., only four years old, shut its doors for good this month. Located in the Bronx, this Disneyland-with-a-New-York-accent featured several theme areas, including fun-filled, if not very accurate, recreations of the past and the future.


The world's largest, but not the most successful.

Only a few days later, the Coney Island attraction Steeplechase Park, which opened way back in 1897, received its last visitors as well.


Were you there six decades ago?

Popular music also turned to the past, as a new version of the folk song The House of the Rising Sun by the British rockers The Animals reached the top of the American charts early this month. It is still Number One as I type these words.


That's really lousy cover art for such a great song.

It's not unusual for a remake of an old number to become a hit, but this is an extreme example. Musicologists tell us the song's origins may go back as far as Sixteenth Century England, although this is a matter of debate. In any case, I was stunned, in a pleasant way, when I first heard this version. Eric Burdon's powerful vocals and Alan Price's compelling electronic organ solo make this a new classic, if you'll pardon the oxymoron.

In a similar way, the two longest stories in the latest issue of Fantastic seem to have come out of the yellowing pages of an old pulp magazine.

Gimme That Old-Time Sci-Fi, It's Good Enough For Me


Cover art by George Schelling

Beyond the Ebon Wall, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by Michael Arndt

This yarn starts off with the hero making a routine survey of a distant solar system. He finds a bizarre planet, half of which is missing, cut away from the other half by a black wall. Don't expect a hard SF story in the tradition of Hal Clement, with a scientific explanation for the weird phenomenon. Once the guy lands on the planet, the story becomes pure fantasy, of the sword-and-sorcery kind.

He meets four men, one of whom is an elderly fellow with a scarred face. There is also a pair of naked men fighting near the black wall. These two vanish into the wall, and the hero rather foolishly follows them. He finds himself trapped in another world, where he encounters another scarred old man, who seems to be the twin of the first one. We also get our first strong clue that we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, when a magpie recites a prophetic poem to him.

What follows is an adventure story, full of action, and yet somehow leisurely. The hero is captured, and becomes the slave of a seafaring merchant who treats him decently. He becomes good buddies with a huge guy, who serves as our source of exposition. The two of them act as bait during the hunt for a dangerous animal. Surprisingly, the creature becomes as loyal to him as a friendly dog.


Does this look like a good house pet to you?

Stir in a pirate captain, a sorcerer, battles, escapes, and chase scenes. The hero eventually winds up where he started, and the story ends with a confusing time travel paradox.

The space exploration opening adds nothing to the plot, and even the time travel theme could have been the result of black magic. Other than the awkward blending of genres, this is an old-fashioned swashbuckler right out of Weird Tales. The hero and his giant pal are likable enough, but their adventures don't lead to very much.

Two stars.

The Grooves, by Jack Sharkey


Illustration by George Schelling

A foolhardy young man tells his grandmother that he's going to go into the underground lair of a troll and steal its gold. The old lady warns him that he must never kill a troll. We also find out that trolls have inverted souls, so they walk on the ceilings of their caverns. (No, that didn't make much sense to me, either.)

At this point, I thought that the trolls were going to turn out to be aliens, or maybe people in spacesuits. Nothing of the kind happens. The story is pure fantasy, and the plot is as simple as can be. The stupid protagonist discovers why he shouldn't kill a troll, and learns the meaning of a couple of marks on the wall of the cave, the secret of which is neither surprising nor interesting.

Two stars.

Seed of Eloraspon (Part One of Two), by Manly Banister


Illustration by George Schelling

Allow me to indulge in a little reminiscing of my own. My very first article for Galactic Journey, almost exactly three years ago, was about the October 1961 issue of Fantastic. Included in the magazine was the second half of the short novel Magnanthropus by Manly Banister. For reasons I cannot explain, this work was very popular with readers. Here comes the sequel.

In the first novel, the main character crossed over from a future Earth to the planet Eloraspon when the two worlds somehow collided with each other across dimensions. As far as he knew, Earth was destroyed. He also found out that he was a Magnanthropus, which is a kind of superman with special mental powers.

The sequel begins with the hero traveling from the northern continent of Eloraspon to the southern one, in search of the city of Surandanish, the ancient capital of an advanced civilization, now vanished. (His Magnanthropus powers direct him to seek out the place, for reasons not yet clear.) Along the way he meets the fairy-like beings we saw in the first story, although they don't have anything to do with the plot, so far.


The charming but irrelevant butterfly people.

He rescues a beautiful warrior princess from a monster and they fall in love so fast it'll make your head spin. Interfering with their romance are the Tharn, a bunch of nasty, ugly folks who live only to kill and enslave. The hero battles one Tharn who used to be a regular fellow, but who lost his good looks when he consumed some of the addictive substance that makes the Tharn so hideous and mean. (Take a look at the cover art for a portrait of a Tharn. The real thing isn't anywhere near that big, however, only a little larger than a non-Tharn.)

Defeated in battle, the Tharn-who-wasn't-always-a-Tharn becomes the hero's loyal companion. Together they set out after the princess, who was captured while they were fighting. They get thrown in a dungeon, but the hero uses his convenient Magnanthropus abilities to travel through walls and attack their captors.


Take that, Tharn scum!

He also acquires another ally, a fellow Earthman who tells him that the world wasn't really destroyed, although it was badly shook up. They meet the mysterious Bronze Men, who are supposed to be immortal, although the hero apparently kills one of them pretty quickly. Our trio of Good Guys wind up captured again, and this half of the novel ends as they are about to be slain by a flying monster, while the princess is held captive by the leader of the Tharn.

Like the lead novelette by MacApp, this is an old-fashioned fantasy adventure with some science fiction trappings. I suspect that fans of Edgar Rice Burroughs made up a good portion of those who praised the first novel, with a comment like they don't write 'em like that anymore. Frankly, I'm glad they don't.

Two stars.

Home to Zero, by David R. Bunch

Nobody will ever accuse this author of rehashing old-time stories. His latest offering is a typically opaque and depressing bit of prose, written in his usual eccentric style. As far as I can tell, it has something to do with a being who used to be a man, but is now all machine. He, or it, or possibly humanity in general, sent probes out to the ends of the cosmos. Now it, or he, seeks only nothingness. Maybe. Your guess is as good as mine. At least it's weird enough, and short enough, to avoid boredom.

Two stars.

Encounter, by Piers Anthony


Illustration by Robert Adragna

The protagonist lives in an ultra-urbanized future, where most people never leave their homes. He travels an incredibly long road through a deserted area, inhabited by packs of feral dogs and hordes of rats. Although the setting is the Atlantic coast of North America, he also encounters savage peccaries, and, most amazingly, a tiger. The man and the cat become wary allies in their mutual battle against the wild pigs.

It was a relief to read a story that was neither corny nor incomprehensible. It's a reasonably enjoyable little tale, which achieves its modest goals in an efficient, if unspectacular, way.

Three stars.

Midnight in the Mirror World, by Fritz Leiber


Illustration by Virgil Finlay

One of the easiest ways to look back at things is to gaze into a mirror. It's not a coincidence, I believe, that the word reflection can refer to an image seen in a shiny surface, or to the act of musing over one's experiences. Such were my thoughts, anyway, when I read the newest creation by a master of imaginative fiction.

The protagonist is a man in late middle age, divorced and living alone, who sleeps during the day and enjoys his three hobbies of astronomy, correspondence chess, and playing classical music on his piano at night. (Sounds like a pretty nice lifestyle to me, to tell the truth.)

As part of his nightly routine, each midnight he passes between two parallel mirrors on his way to the piano. As many of us have experienced, this creates the illusion of an infinite number of selves within the glass. One night, he sees a dark figure touching one of his reflections, which seems terrified. Each night the figure comes closer, until he recognizes it. Inevitably, the figure emerges, leading to a final encounter.

The synopsis I've provided makes this sound like a supernatural horror story, and that's certainly an accurate description. Will you believe me if I tell you that it's also a love story, and that the frightening ending can also be seen as a happy one?

Beautifully written, with the author's elegant style and gift for striking images on full display, this quietly chilling tale draws the reader into its world of darkness and light. The conclusion may not be completely unexpected, but it's a fine story nonetheless.

Four stars.

Nostalgia Ain't What It Used To Be

So how was this literary trip down memory lane? Disappointing, for the most part. I suppose it's only natural to yearn for the things one enjoyed at a much younger age, but science fiction and fantasy have progressed, I think, over the past several decades. It's no longer enough to have mighty heroes combating fiendish villains in an exotic setting.

The avant-garde writings of Bunch warn us, however, that's it's possible to go too far the other way, and throw out the baby of clarity with the bathwater of familiarity. Leiber, and to a lesser extent, Anthony, understand this, and manage to provide readers with something new, while paying the proper amount of tribute to literary traditions.

I wonder if, sometime in the Twenty-First Century, SF fans will look back at the stories of the Sixties with a wistful sigh, and crack open the brittle pages of an old magazine in an attempt to bring back the sensations that felt so new at the time.


An old science fiction classic worth revisiting.

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