Category Archives: Magazine

Science Fiction and Fantasy in print

[June 30, 1963] Calm from the Storm (July 1963 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

We live in increasingly tumultuous times (or maybe we are just better informed about them).  A war is heating up in Vietnam, an even significant enough to have produced fictional characters who have experienced it (e.g. Linc, the veteran in Route 66; Oscar from Heinlein's new serial, Glory Road). 

There's a war waging in our country, too, as Blacks fight for the rights they are due as humans.  They march, they protest, they are attacked, and sometimes they are killed.  The President recently sent a Civil Rights Bill to Congress, but its future is far from certain.

When the news gets unbearable (or if you are a soldier on either of these front lines and need a break) science fiction and fantasy provide welcome respites.  They offer completely new worlds to explore that may have their own problems, but at least they're different ones.  Or the stories posit futures/alternaties where vexing issues have been solved. 

I find myself increasingly seeking out this refuge as the world gets scarier.  This month's last science fiction digest, the July 1963 Analog, afforded me several hours of peace when I needed it.  Perhaps it will do the same for you.

The Big Fuel Feud (Part 2 of 2), by Harry B. Porter

Even as a rocket scientist, I found Porter's increasingly dry comparison of solid vs. liquid fuels to be interminable.  Campbell needs contributors who will be less textbook, more Asimov (or Ley).  Two stars.

The Ethical Engineer (Part 1 of 2), by Harry Harrison

When we last saw Jason dinAlt, the psychic gambler with a galactic range, he had brought a tepid peace between the city-dwellers and the country folk on the lethal world of Pyrrus.  The latter had managed to live with the increasingly hostile life forms on that death world rather than wage an increasingly futile arms race against it. 

Pyrrus barely figures in this new serial, as dinAlt is kidnapped in Chapter One by a religious fanatic bent on taking Jason back to galactic civilization to face crimes against decency.  On the way, their ship is crippled, and the two must become unlikely allies to survive on yet another harsh world.

It's not as good as Deathworld, and it could have just as easily starred another character.  That said, it picks up as it goes, and I found myself wanting more at the half-way break.  I appreciate that Jason dinAlt, like Laumer's Retief, appears to be Black.  Three stars trending upwards.

New Apples in the Garden, by Kris Neville

In an increasingly technological world, the engineer becomes increasingly essential.  So what happens when people stop seeing slip-stick pusher as a desirable career?  Kris Neville describes a dark future of slow but inexorable decay (with the unspoken subtext made overt in the final illustration).  I don't know that I buy this premise given how heavily the sciences are boosted these days, but it is evocatively drawn.  Three stars.

A Knyght Ther Was, by Robert F. Young

Robert Young has written a lot of great stuff, but these days, his work tends to be really bad, usually some sort of in-joke based on an obvious literary reference (usually something obscure like the Book of Genesis).  This time, his story features a fellow named Thomas Mallory who goes back to England in 542 A.D.  Can you guess what he finds?  I'll give you a clue — it's not a decaying Romano-British/Welsh society under attack by colonizing Saxons.

Worse yet, and you'll see this a mile away, Mallory is THE Mallory.  Yes, bootstraps galore in a tediously predictable tale that doesn't even have the virtue of being funny.  Two stars, and that's being generous.  Read the original, or the ur-document penned by Geoffrey of Monmouth.

New Folks' Home, by Clifford D. Simak

Cliff Simak, master of bucolic SF, has got a serial running in Galaxy right now called Here gather the stars, in which aliens set up a galactic way station in a rural part of America.  New Folk's Home is very similar, thematically, in which an old man, making his last vacation to the backwoods of his youth, discovers a beautiful new house in the middle of nowhere.  Why is it there, and how could it be tied to him?  Is it an intrusive eyesore, or just the retirement spot he was looking for? 

I especially enjoy Simak because his stuff tends to have happy endings, and his aliens are benevolent.  Good stuff, as always.  Four stars.

Thanks to the Harrison and the Simak, I have a more positive feeling toward this issue (and the world) than the issue's 2.6 star rating would normally command.  It's not the best magazine of the month, or even near the top — that prize goes to Fantastic (3.3), followed by Worlds of Tomorrow and Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.1).  Even IF got a higher score (2.8), and it had one of the best stories (Down to the Worlds of Men, by Alexei Panshin).  New Worlds was slightly better, too (2.7).  Only Amazing was worse, and it was a LOT worse (2.1).  So there was lots to enjoy this month to take you out of the miseries of the world.

On the other hand, one misery continues to intrude.  Women wrote just two out of the thirty-seven contributions.  I've been told women aren't just interested, and the editors print the best things they can find.  Why should editors bother to especially solicit women when their jobs are busy enough as it is? 

In reply, I present Exhibit A: Jack Sharkey, whose work fills half of two magazines this month, garnering a whopping two stars between them.  Surely, we can do better than that if we bring in some new blood. We literally can't do worse.

Speaking of Alexei Panshin, the great young author, himself, has answered my letter and offered up an article describing the birth of his first (and most excellent story).  Look forward to it in just a couple of days!




[June 28, 1963] Here Comes Summer… (New Worlds, July 1963)


by Mark Yon


British heartthrob, Cliff Richards, sings "Here Comes Summer"

The coldness of the now classified as ‘record-breaking Winter’ (record-breaking for all the wrong reasons!) has given way to lighter and warmer things weather-wise here, which is good, bearing in mind what seems to be happening in British SF circles this month. Let's dive right in to the July 1963 New Worlds, shall we?

And we’re back to the no-picture, dayglo colours of earlier New Worlds covers.  The bilious green is certainly…eye-catching. 

Let’s Build A Bridge, by Mr. E.C. Tubb

Following the completion of his serial in June, this month Mr. E.C. Tubb points out that most s-f alienates itself from readers by the language it uses. In an attempt to bridge the gulf between “the outsider and the addict,” he suggests that, if s-f is to survive, it must entertain, communicate, educate and (most essentially for s-f) enchant.  Nothing wrong with this point of view, in my opinion. After some of the aggressive views exhibited of late, it’s nice to read a conciliatory piece, but I do feel that this need to make the genre accessible to ‘outsiders’ may be out of date. My impression is that most s-f readers like their use of special genre terminology, psi-beams and all, which makes them part of a select group who ‘get it.’

Refuge, by Mr. Joseph Green

As heralded last month, we begin with what is being touted as the last story in Mr. Green’s ‘Loafers’ series. Refuge is a so-so story of how humans and the Loafers continue to get along for planetary unity and mutual benefit. Here we see the consequences of this interaction, as one of the young Loafers decides to go ‘walkabout’ to determine the effects of such mutual co-habitation. Whilst many authors would try to use this to tell a story of communal compromise and future progress through social integration, here the ending is, instead, a rather typically British dystopian view. I’m sure that someone could make a connection between this and the current Race Riots going on in the USA, or Native American/American relations or even Australian/Aborigine relationships but, really, that would be pushing a simile too far. Nevertheless, it’s one of the better efforts in the series, if rather bleak, but nothing particularly ground-breaking.  3 out of 5.

The Last Salamander, by Mr. John Rackham

The return of another series, Mr. Rackham’s tale is another of his ‘X-men’ stories, those people with special powers last seen in Confession in New Worlds in May 1963. Surprisingly, for superhero stories, they’ve all been pretty mundane up to now, but The Last Salamander is a more interesting, if unoriginal, prospect. It’s basically an alien monster story where the creature is inconveniently found feeding off the energy generated in a power station. It all seems rather Twilight Zone-esque to me, but made depressing by the point that the automatic reaction of the humans is to decide how to kill it. 3 out of 5.

The Nothing, by Mr. Bill Spencer

Mr. Spencer last appeared in May 1962, although I remember nothing of the story myself. Ironically, The Nothing is another story of interstellar instantaneous travel (see also Mr. David Rome’s story, Moonbeam, back in the September 1962 issue) and the intrepid guinea-pigs who risk travelling into the unknown in doing so. Dare I say it, for a story about facing the unknown it’s nothing special – nothing of importance!  2 out of 5.

Pattern of Risk, by Mr. R.W. Mackelworth

You may have noticed that I’ve liked a lot of this recent author’s work in New Worlds, so I had high hopes of this story. Pattern of Risk is a story of what happens when the insurance risk of spaceships can be accurately predicted. Like Mr. Asimov’s psychohistory it’s a bit dodgy in its logic, and in the end, ironically, it lacks risk!  2 out of 5.

Point of No Return, by Mr. Philip E. High

Mr. High’s work has varied enormously of late, but this is a better one. It’s an unsurprising story of what happens when a new bioweapon is created on a planet to deal with insurgents. There’s a nice take on how machines and humans could one day be symbiotically combined in warfare – I’m sure it could happen one day – and it does raise ethical questions about such actions. Machines may one day take over the world! Not a new idea (Ms. Anne McCaffrey did something similar in a story a couple of years ago, for example) but done well. 3 out of 5.

Flux, by Mr. Michael Moorcock

And that leads me to the story that indicates the return of Mr. Michael Moorcock. Last time Mr. Moorcock appeared in New Worlds I was pleasantly surprised, and this time Flux also entertains. It is a time-travel story, but written with enough style and panache to make the tired old cliché seem new – the sort of entertainment which Mr. E. C. Tubb was suggesting s-f should be aiming for in his Editorial, I think. At times, the language is a little over-worked in purple prose – “What did it mean, he wondered, this Gargantua which sat perpetually bellowing athwart the whole content?” for example – but I liked the story’s energy and its take on travelling the timelines, even if it is rather similar to Mr. Spencer’s story in the same issue! Whilst it is not Mr Moorcock’s best – he may be best suited to continuing writing Fantasy rather than s-f – it is an intriguing advance on the linear nature of Mr. H.G. Wells’ time travels.  3 out of 5.

Book ~Reviews, by Mr. Leslie Flood

In this month’s selection, Mr. Robert Sheckley’s Immortality Inc. is ‘slickly written’, we see the reprint of Mr. Robert Heinlein’s Red Planet, another in the current trend of ‘catastrophe novels’, this time Mr. Robert Bateman’s When The Whites Went and Mr. Clifford Simak’s ‘also-ran’ They Walked Like Men. Readers of Galactic Journey will probably recognise most of the stories in a ‘superb assortment’ from The Best from Fantasy & SF – 10th Series. There’s a brief review of a controversial book, The Dawn of Magic.which gets a brief mention, that its study of scientific unorthodoxy should generate discussion, but seems to be here more because its authors are at the film festival mentioned next.

ARTICLE: The First International S-F Film Festival, by Mr. John Carnell.

After the film review last month (The Day of the Triffids is being shown here, coincidentally) we now have an advance notice of this cross-genre event in Trieste, even though it is actually over by the time we’re reading this.

There’s nothing much to get excited about here, although the event itself looks like fun, and I am pleased that the event celebrates the international nature of s-f. It is so easy to become parochial in such matters, if you are not careful. There will be a report next month, evidently.

In summary, the July issue of New Worlds is odd, frankly. There’s a combination of old and new, but overall it’s a bit of a mess. Strangely, the stories I hoped would like have underwhelmed, whilst some of the more mundane offerings have been better than I was expecting. It really does seem to reflect that transition of the genre, from the old to the new, but I’m not sure that it’s entirely successful.

Until next month..




[June 18, 1963] Eastbound for Adventure! (July 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Galactic Journey approaches the completion of its fifth year in publication, and we delight in the increasing variety of travels we've been able to share with you.  We started with science fiction digests and real-life space shots, expanded our coverage to movies and television, and then dove whole-hog into all aspects of culture, including music, politics, and fashion.  We even broadened our geographic scope, with British correspondents Ashley Pollard and Mark Yon, and our newest teammember, Cora Buhlert from West Germany.

One constant throughout, dating back to our third article, is the coverage of physical journeys of the Traveler family.  And so we tread familiar ground in two respects as the Journey reports for its fourth time from the near-mythical land of Wa, the country of Japan.

We touched down the afternoon of June 10 after a long but thoroughly pleasant trip across the Pacific in first class.  Leigh Brackett was my traveling companion, though the conversation was strictly one-way.

The next day, we took a quick flight from Tokyo to the industrial city of Nagoya, third biggest in the nation.  Renowned for its drab ugliness, nevertheless we like it, not for the least reason the presence of three good friends — one native and two transplants. 

After a delicious lunch, we all gathered in the hotel room and performed music together (Nanami and the Young Traveler are both accomplished ukelele-players). 

We had just one full day after that in Nagoya, and we used the time to good advantage, exploring the many shopping and dining options.  Despite June being monsoon month in Japan, rain was sparse and the temperature reasonable (though the humidity rivaled that of pre-Mariner Venus…)

For the last five days, we have been back in the nation's capital.  Tokyo is a city in transition, busily preparing for the Olympics next year.  In addition to the remodeling of the Shibuya district, work is being completed on the new bullet train that will reduce the trip from Osaka to Tokyo (about the same distance as Los Angeles to San Francisco) to just three hours.  Would have been nice on our trip this time around…

My primary destination this time around was Jimbouchou — Bookseller's Row — where dozens of bookstores crowd a cluster of avenues.  I've never seen so many volumes crowded together in one place!  However, the subject matter tended to be rather dry and abstruse at most of the places, and I made most of my scavenging finds at the second-hand shops around the various universities. 

As for the rest of the time, we shopped, we dined, and we walked…endlessly.  More than five miles every day. 

One "highlight" of the trip was the chance to watch King Kong vs. Godzilla in the cinema.  There will be a report.

I also found time to enjoy to enjoy the July 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction, the fourth issue of this venerable magazine I've read in Japan.  How did this set of excursions compare to the real-life adventure I am currently enjoying?  Read on and find out!

Glory Road (Part 1 of 3), by Robert A. Heinlein

Most of the issue is taken up by the first half of Heinlein's latest novel.  Evelyn Cyril "Oscar" Gordon is a remarkable young man plagued by hard luck: a skilled athlete saddled with a losing team; an abortive engineering student sent to fight (and grievously wounded) in Vietnam; a winner of the Irish Derby sweepstakes whose ticket turns out to be counterfeit.  Things look up when he answers this classified ad, tailor-made for him:

"ARE YOU A COWARD? This is not for you. We badly need a brave man. He must be 23 to 25 years old, in perfect health, at least six feet tall, weigh about 190 pounds, fluent English, with some French, proficient in all weapons, some knowledge of engineering and mathematics essential, willing to travel, no family or emotional ties, indomitably courageous and handsome of face and figure. Permanent employment, very high pay, glorious adventure, great danger. You must apply in person, rue Dante, Nice, 2me étage, apt. D."

Gordon's employer is the unearthily beautiful "Star," part Amazon, part Fae.  Along with her aged but capable assistant, Rufo, the trio head off into a fantastic dimension on an errand whose purpose is known only to the mysterious magical lady.  There, they run into golems, explosive swamps, easily offended hosts, and many other dangers.

Glory Road is Heinlein's answer to Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions, and the closesness with which it hews to the predecessor only highlights its inferiority.  Anderson's tale was fun and subtle, his characters well-realized.  Heinlein, as we saw in his last book, Podkayne of Mars, can't seem to portray anyone but Heinlein these days.  When Oscar and Star start mooning at each other, it's like watching old Bob seduce himself. 

I did enjoy the first 30 pages or so, detailing Gordon's pre-adventure life, however, and there are moments of interest along the way.  But if you're looking for the next Starship Troopers or The Menace from Earth, this likely won't be it.  Three stars.

Success, by Fritz Leiber

The creator of Fahfrd and the Grey Mouser offers up this fantasy vignette, a distillation of the genre in four pages.  Is it satire?  Parody?  Or the only fantastic story you'll ever need to read?  Vividly written but inconsequential.  Three stars.

The Respondents, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Pretty words from one of F&SF's resident poets.  Three stars.

With These Hands, by Kenneth Smith

The first SF publication by this college freshman, this is a tale of an artless alien (both descriptors used literally) unable to contribute to Earth's cultural beauty despite his desperate admiration.  It starts off strong, but the ending is a bit talkie and mawkish.  Nevertheless, three stars, and let's see some more!

The Isaac Winners, by Isaac Asimov

A rather lackluster piece this month, just a list of the top 72 scientists in human history.  The best part of the article is Asimov's justification for the trophy's name (after Newton, of course!) Three stars.

As Long as You're Here, by Will Stanton

F&SF perennial, Stanton, gives us a both charming and chilling tale about a couple that digs a deep shelter to avoid the hell of nuclear annihilation only to find Old Nick digging upwards to expand his domain in similar anticipation.  It stayed with me.  Four stars.

McNamara's Fish, by Ron Goulart

Max Kearny, spiritual private eye, is consulted individually by both members of a married couple, who both fear the other partner is being unfaithful.  Is something fishy going on?  Yes!  Indeed, in this case, the troubles stem from the meddling of a venal water elemental.  Goulart's Kearny tales are always glib and enjoyable, though this one is less substantial than most.  Three stars.

Thus ends a pleasant but not superlative issue of F&SF, an issue more notable for the environs in which it was read (on a rock under a waterfall near a shrine; in the lounge of a fancy Nagoya hotel; on a train traveling in the shadow of Mt. Fuji) than its contents. 

See you in two days when I discuss the most amazing events happening just a few hundred miles over our heads as we speak…




[June 16, 1963] Blues for a Red Planet (August 1963 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

The planet Mars and its inhabitants have long been favorite themes for science fiction writers, from The War of the Worlds to The Martian Chronicles.  Will the age of space travel put an end to our wildest fancies about that alluring world?

The Soviet spacecraft intended to study Mars have all failed.  NASA's Mariner program, so successful in studying Venus, is not scheduled to turn its attention to Mars until next year.  Because the red planet is still something of a mystery, authors are free to use their imagination for a while yet. They may create a world where humans can live, or depict Martian canals and the civilization that created them.

The third issue of Worlds of Tomorrow upholds this tradition, with the first section of a major new novel set on Mars.

All We Marsmen (Part 1 of 3), by Philip K. Dick

The latest work from the author of last year's critically acclaimed alternate history novel The Man in the High Castle (which got only a mixed review from our esteemed host) is set on a traditional version of Mars.  There are humanoid Martians (called Bleekmen), although they are a dying people.  There are canals, although they are in a poor state of repair.  Humans can survive on the planet, but only under harsh conditions.

By the end of this century, human colonies exist on Mars.  Founded by Earth countries, businesses, or labor unions, they are under the control of the United Nations.  Against this background, the reader is introduced to several characters.

Silvia Bohlen is a housewife and mother.  She takes barbiturates to sleep and amphetamines to wake up.  Her husband Jack is a repairman.  While flying out on an assignment to fix a refrigeration unit, he gets a call from the UN to aid a group of Bleekmen dying of thirst.  During this errand of mercy he meets Arnie Kott, head of an important union, whose own helicopter flight has been interrupted by the emergency.  Kott despises the Bleekmen, and argues with Jack about the need to help them.  Despite this disagreement, he comes to respect Jack's skill, and hires him for an important repair.  In a flashback sequence, we learn that Jack came to Mars after an episode of schizophrenia.

Norbert Steiner and his family live next to the Bohlens.  He works as a health food manufacturer, and secretly imports forbidden luxury foods from Earth.  His son Manfred is severely autistic, and lives at a special facility for children with mental or physical disabilities.  A shocking event involving Steiner leads to a crisis for his family and his neighbors.

There are many other characters I haven't mentioned and multiple subplots.  It's not yet clear what direction this novel is going.  There are hints that schizophrenics and autistics have precognitive abilities, and I believe this will be a major theme.

Some readers may be dismayed by the lack of a simple, linear plot.  Others will find the novel depressing, as so many of its characters are unhappy with their lives.  The picture it paints of a Mars inhabited by a large number of humans by the 1990's is likely to seem unrealistic.  However, the author appears to have created a complex, serious work of literature, worthy of careful reading.  Four stars.

A Hitch in Space, by Fritz Leiber

In a distant solar system, two men are aboard a spaceship on a routine mission.  One of the men develops a bizarre psychosis.  He imagines that his partner, the narrator, is really two people.  When he's around, he calls him Joe, and thinks of him as a hero.  When he's gone, he speaks to the imaginary Joseph, and insults him.  The narrator puts up with this weird delusion, but when he goes outside the ship, the situation becomes dangerous.

This story combines psychological drama with a technological puzzle that could have appeared in the pages of Analog.  As you'd expect from this author, it's very well written.  The situation is interesting, if somewhat artificial.  Three stars.

To the Stars, by J. T. McIntosh

A manufacturer of starships is blackmailed, on the basis that his ships are more dangerous than others.  He disposes of this threat easily enough, with evidence that they cause no more deaths than any other ships.  What is kept secret, however, is the fact that his ships are vulnerable at a particular moment during their time of use.  When his daughter leaves on her honeymoon aboard one of his ships during this hazardous time, he takes measures to prevent a possible disaster.

I found the plot of this story contrived and inconsistent.  The female characters are more fully realized than usual for this author.  Unfortunately, the effect is ruined by an irrelevant paragraph explaining that women will never be equal to men in the business world, even two centuries from now.  The reasons given are "women never trusted women" and "women didn't really want equality."  Two stars.

The New Science of Space Speech, by Vincent H. Gaddis

This article discusses research into ways to communicate with extraterrestrials.  It covers a lot of ground, from radio telescopes to dolphins, and from artificial languages based on mathematics to unexplained radio echoes.  Some of this material is interesting, but the author covers too many subjects in a short space to do more than offer a taste of them.  Two stars.

A Jury of Its Peers, by Daniel Keyes

A professor of physics invents a small computer that has consciousness.  During a lecture he tells the students that the computer can think, forgetting that the state has passed a law against making such a claim in the classroom.  A trial follows, with the computer itself called as a witness.

This scenario is clearly based on the famous Scopes Trial of 1925, which tested the law against teaching human evolution in Tennessee schools.  Ironically, the law against teaching machine intelligence is in New Jersey, and the lawyer defending the professor is from Tennessee.

If this were merely an allegory for academic freedom, the story would be only moderately effective.  However, the author has more in mind.  The professor must face his own limitations, as well as those of the computer, when it gives its testimony.  Although not the masterpiece one might expect from the creator of Flowers for Algernon [If he had a nickel for every time a reviewer said this…(Ed.)], this is a fine story with depth of characterization.  Four stars.

The Impossible Star, by Brian W. Aldiss

Four astronauts explore the region of space beyond the Crab Nebula.  A problem with their spaceship strands them on a small, rocky planetoid near a star of such immense mass that not even light can escape from it.  (This may seem fantastic, but in recent years physicists have speculated that an object of sufficient size could produce a gravitation pull so strong that this could happen.) The men struggle with the bizarre effects of the black star.  The stress of their situation soon has them at each other's throats.  The concept is an interesting one.  Even in an issue full of downbeat stories, this is a particularly bleak tale.  Three stars.

Until the Mariner project takes away our dreams of glittering Martian cities, rising from ruby sands along emerald canals, let's keep reading about that fascinating world in the pages of our Earthling magazines.




[June 13, 1963] THUD (the July 1963 Amazing)


by John Boston

Jack Sharkey’s serialized novella The Programmed People, which concludes in this July 1963 Amazing, describes a tight arc from mediocre to appalling and lands with a thud.  It opens with our hero Lloyd queuing up with everybody else in the Hive in front of the Proposition Screens in order to Vote before the Count.  Yes, it’s another stilted dystopia (a small isolated world run by a big computer, the Brain) in which all the horrors get capital letters.  Also, Voting is mandatory, and there isn’t enough time for everyone to Vote, and Lloyd can’t afford to miss the cut-off because he’s already missed two Votes this quarter out of an allowable Three, excuse me, three.  On the next page, Sharkey has apparently lost count; now he says Lloyd will have to be hospitalized for Readjustment if he misses this Vote.  Lloyd gets the young woman in front of him to let him jump the line, only to discover that she is the pariah they’ve been warned against who has refused to submit to Hospitalization.  He pities her and lends her his girlfriend’s Voteplate (don’t ask) so she can get out of the Temple unrecognized, and then hides her in his room.  She tells him that Hospitalization is a ruse for disposal of anyone who is sick or injured, in order to keep the population steady. 

There are a lot more busy plot mechanics not worth recounting; it’s reminiscent of a TV sitcom, and the characters act and talk like sitcom characters too.  Sharkey has clearly not thought through just what it would be like to live in a state of constant surveillance, fear, and enforced ignorance.  At the end of Part I Lloyd has gone to the Brain that controls everything and asked it “Why is the Hive?” Part II has the answer, in a flashback that starts with the 1972 presidential election and goes on for 19 pages, covering more than 50 years of political history, becoming more absurd as it goes on.  Then there’s another 15 pages of silly melodrama and thankfully we’re done.  One star is too much.

Onward, with trepidation, to the rest of the issue.  The cover story is Robert F. Young’s long novelet Redemption, in which space freighter pilot Drake, en route to Mars, is alone on his ship when there’s a knock on the door.  It’s a girl!  She’s wearing the uniform of the Army of the Church of the Emancipation, but even so, she is, as the author puts it, stacked.  Also, she’s named Annabelle Leigh, an allusion the author does nothing with.  She has stowed away and wants him to drop her off at the planet Iago Iago in time for the expected resurrection of a saint.  He declines and locks her in a storeroom, then his ship runs into a Lambda-Xi field (say what?), which destroys the part of the ship with her in it, and renders the rest of it, and him and his cargo, translucent.  When he gets to Mars, he makes inquiries and learns that Annabelle was a saint. 

He then sets off on a quest both to sell his damaged cargo and to trace her history, hoping to find evidence that she wasn’t so saintly all the time and thereby make himself feel less guilty about accidentally killing her.  He does, sort of, and also learns that this Lambda-Xi field was even more puissant than he realized, capable of generating any contrivance the author needs, including time travel, two varieties of it, the sum of which, overlaid with Young’s characteristic sentimentality, ends up like something A.E. van Vogt might have written for a Hallmark Cards promotion (or maybe vice versa).  There are also further strong hints that Young has a few screws loose on the subjects of women and sex—not surprisingly in light of such previous efforts as Santa Clause and Storm over Sodom in F&SF.  Maybe somebody else can find something to appreciate here, but it leaves me cold, and annoyed as usual with this all too prolific author.  The cover blurb says “A Story You Will Never Forget!” I hope it’s wrong.  One star.

After such Redemption, what redemption?  Some, at least.  Neal Barrett, Jr.’s shorter novelet The Game—his fifth appearance in the SF magazines—is a somewhat crude but grimly effective horror story of Earth colonists who encounter an incomprehensible alien entity that just wants to play a game, with devastating consequences for the humans.  It’s refreshingly straightforward after the metaphysically baroque Young story.  Four stars.

Now, the crumbs at the bottom of the box.  Ron Goulart’s The Yes Men of Venus is a parody of a certain famous pulpster, heavily disguised here as Arthur Wright Beemis, which seems both pitch-perfect and, therefore, almost superfluous.  But it’s short enough to be amusing.  Three stars for trivia well executed.

Arthur Porges’s The Formula is another contrived and arid gimmick story, involving a highly artificial psi experiment undertaken on a bet.  The story turns on appreciating some specialized information that is disclosed in passing about the surroundings.  It’s like a grossly expanded version of a filler item in a science magazine.  Two stars, generously.

Well, that was depressing.  The Barrett story is the sole bright spot in this mostly abysmal issue—and not bright enough by half to redeem (excuse the expression) the disaster of the two lead stories.

[June 4, 1963] Booked passage (July 1963 IF)


by Gideon Marcus

How quickly the futuristic becomes commonplace.  Just two years ago, I marveled about how fast one can cross the oceans by jet.  Now, on the eve of another trip to Japan (we really have joined the Jet Set, haven't we?) I look at the flight itinerary and grumble.  Why must we stop in Hawaii?  That adds several hours to the trip — it'll take more than half a day to get from LAX to Haneda.

Spoiled rotten, I tell you.

Speaking of travel stories, a fresh crop of science fiction digests has hit my mailbox.  Many of them will be joining me on my trip to the Orient, but I finished one of them, the July 1963 IF, pre-flight.  All of them feature some element of star-hopping, and so this issue sets a fine mood as we embark on our latest journey:

That Notebook Again, by Theodore Sturgeon

I find it interesting that editor Fred Pohl has gotten Ted Sturgeon to write his editorials for him.  I'm not complaining — it's always nice to see Sturgeon in print in any capacity.  This time around, he treats us to a number of technological proposals, a wishlist of inventions that should be right around the corner, given a little interest and effort.  I found his idea for a home TV-tape camera and player particularly titilating (and not farfetched — my nephew already audio-tapes television shows onto reel-to-reel).

The Reefs of Space (Part 1 of 3), by Jack Williamson and Frederik Pohl

A good third of the issue is given to a new serial (illustrated on the cover — EMSH is big in this issue, though I also like the work of Nodel, who is new to me).  Hundreds of years from now, Earth's population is highly regimented, its economy utterly socialized, under the authority of The Machine and its master Plan.  Dissent is punished by incarceration and the forced wearing of an explosive ring around one's neck.  Further disobedience results in one's "salvage" (dissasembly into component body parts for the use of others). 

Steve Ryeland is an experimental physicist, a touchy job to have when scientific advancement poses both boon and risk for the Plan.  At Reef's beginning, he has been a prisoner for three years, unaware of his crime, but consistently questioned about "spacelings," "fusorians," "reefs of space," and "jetless drive" — terms about which he knows nothing.  Adding to his confusion is a three-day gap in his memory.

And then comes the urgent summons — the Machine will have Ryeland discover the secret of the reactionless drive, and soon, or be sent to the Body Banks.  For at the edge of the solar system lies a biological construct, the tremendous analog of a coral reef created by organisms that live on interstellar hydrogen.  Not only does this alien structure pose a hypothetical threat to the Plan, but it affords sanctuary to a more existential opponent — the revolutionary-in-exile, Donderevo.  Can Ryeland accomplish his mission in time to save his hide and human society?  Is such a goal even worth fighting for?

It's an interesting concept for a novel, but the execution leaves a bit to be desired.  It suffers from the same plodding repetitiveness as Simak's concurrent serial in Galaxy, but betrays none of Simak's literary expertise.  The writing is simple, uninspired, and the scientific concepts (including Hoyle's steady-state theory, which I find uncompelling) feel dated.  Two stars, but with cautious hopes for the next installment.

The Faces Outside, by Bruce McAllister

Here is a short tale of a married couple, the last of humanity, mutated to live in a large alien aquarium with a host of other terrestrial life forms.  The Terrans have the last laugh when the male of the pair develops psychic powers and compels the aliens to commit mass suicide.

McAllister is the first and weaker of the two new authors featured in this issue.  His writing shows potential, though.  Two stars, trying hard for three.

Mightiest Qorn, by Keith Laumer

Another IF, another Retief story.  This time, the omnipotent but much-suffering Terran agent is tapped to investigate the sudden reappearance of the fearsome Qorn, a race of dreadnought-wielding, glory-seeking warriors who appear to have the power of teleportation.

Unfortunately, the Retief shtick is starting to wear thin (arguably, it raveled a while ago), and it's really time Laumer focused his attention to the more worthy efforts we know he's capable of.  The bright spot is that Retief's nominal boss, Magnan, is now pretty game to do whatever his "underling" says.  Some might call that progress.  Two stars.

In the Arena, by Brian W. Aldiss

Given up?  Take heart — it's all better from here.  Prominent British writer, Aldiss, gives us another man-and-woman pair in the thrall of aliens.  In this case, it is two gladiators performing for a race of insectoids who have conquered the Earth (but not all of humanity).  Call it Spartacus for the 30th Century.  It's a nicely written trifle.  Three stars.

Down to the Worlds of Men, by Alexei Panshin

14-year old Mia Havero is part of a society of human space-dwellers, resident of one of the eight galaxy-trotting Ships that represent the remains of Earth's high technology.  She and 29 other young teens are dropped on a primitive colony as part of a rite of passage.  There is always an element of danger to this month-long ordeal, but this episode has a new wrinkle: the planet's people are fully aware (and resentful) of the Ships, and they plan to fight back.  Can Mia survive her coming of age and stop an insurrection?

Panshin hits it right out of the park with his first story, capturing the voice of a young almost-woman and laying out a rich world and an exciting adventure.  Finally, I've got something I can recommend to the Young Traveler.  Four stars, verging on five.

The Shadow of Wings, by Robert Silverberg

The last story introduces Caldwell, an expert in the dead language of Kethlani.  He is called back from a family vacation when a real live Kethlan shows up, bearing the banner of peace.  Can the linguist overcome his revulsion of the alien's form and forge a partnership between the two species?

This piece could have been a throwaway save for Silvergerg's careful drawing of the Caldwell's personality.  I found myself wishing the story had been longer — certainly, it could have taken some of the pages away from the stale stories of the first half.  Four stars.

Like my impending vacation, this month's issue starts with a hard slog but ends with great reward.  I'd say that's the right order of things.  See you in Tokyo!




[May 30, 1963] Held back? (June 1963 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Graduation day is rapidly approaching.  Around the world, high school seniors are about to don cap and gown and emerge from their academic cocoons.  They will be transformed creatures, highly improved in comparison to their state upon entering school.  They'll go on to be the next Picasso, Wright, Salk, or Meitner.  Such are our hopes, anyway.

Science fiction is in the midst of a similar transition.  Gestated in the womb of Mary Shelley's mind, SF was born in the late 19th Century, Mssrs. Verne and Wells serving as midwives.  In the 20s, it entered grammar school under the tutelage of Hugo Gernsback, editor of Amazing Stories.  At the time, SF was an undistinguished pupil, little different from its fellows at Pulp Elementary.  But in 1937, SF entered Astounding Middle School, which had a most extraordinary principal, John W. Campbell, aided by a student council led by Heinlein, Asimov, and Leinster.  It was a Boys' School, of course, though a few females snuck or fought their way in.  This was the period in which SF began to shine, displaying a characteristic intelligence, innovation, and devotion to scientific principles.

The genre entered Galaxy High School in 1950 after taking a few preparatory classes at F&SF School for the Gifted.  Galaxy High was (and to a limited degree still is) a co-ed school, and it was here that SF fully flowered, displaying hitherto unseen nuance, breadth, and passion.  Its vista spread beyond the solar system to the stars.  Having mastered the subjects of math, physics, and engineering in Middle School, it now turned to the subtler arts: psychology and sociology.  It achieved high marks in English such that some of its compositions were included in literary anthologies alongside the works of other, older genres.

After 12 years of High School, SF is approaching its own time of graduation.  Where will it head from here?  There is some indication that the genre will head to New Wave University, possibly at its British campus, where it can major in philosophy and advanced writing techniques.  Or it may elect to go to the twin Goldsmith Universities.  The opportunities there include exciting placement in the worlds of both science and fantasy.  Plus, that's where the women are…


(Accurate depiction of the SF genre — note the demographic ratio)

But there are also signs that SF may not be ready to graduate at all.  Its output isn't what it used to be, and in many cases, it seems to be just going through the motions.  Lately, the genre has been visiting its old stomping grounds, Astounding Elementary (recently renamed to Analog School for the Psychically Inclined).  Each time, the result is a regression in the quality of its work.

Just take a look at SF's latest exam results, the June 1963 Analog.  Outwardly, it reflects the work of a mature student.  After all, it's a full 8.5" by 11" in dimensions and printed on slick paper.  But note the content — if you were on a college (or army) recruiting board, would you take this as a sign of promise?

The Big Fuel Feud (Part 1 of 2), by Harry B. Porter

There is a war being waged inside the United States (or perhaps it is merely a spirited competition) between the factions that favor liquid-fueled rockets and those that like the solid-fueled kind.  In other words, does your propellant splash or crumble?  There are advantages and disadvantages to both methods, and they are of differing importance depending on whether your application is putting people in space or blowing up people in Russia.  The author lays out, comprehensively and legibly (if a bit disorganizedly, particularly at the end) the history and current state of the art in solid fuels.

I found it interesting, but then, it's also my pigeon.  Three stars. 

The Trouble with Telstar, by John Berryman

Some science fiction takes place in the far future against an as yet dimly conceivable tableau of advanced technologies and galactic locales.  Other SF is taken right out of tomorrow's headlines.  This is, perhaps, the easier to write.  On the other hand, it is also the most readily accessible.

Berryman, who normally writes competent psi-related stuff for Analog, turns in this competent (if annoyingly male-chauvinist) straight engineering piece on in situ satellite repair.  In it, the nationalized space telcom has discovered a fatal flaw in its new Telstar line of communications satellites.  Unfortunately, six of the constellation of eighteen have already been launched, and the problem cannot be duplicated precisely on the ground.  A technician advances the idea of diagnosing and repairing the issue in space, arguing that it's cheaper and quicker than starting all over on the ground.  Not only is the proposal accepted, but (to his dismay) the technician is drafted for the job.

Trouble is set in or around 1966 and features the real-world Saturn rocket and Air Force "Dyna-Soar" spaceplane.  The details of the repair trip are incredibly authentic, down to the manufacture of specialized tools for disassembly of the Telstars in orbit, and the depiction of the tech's several spacewalks.  I found myself utterly riveted by this snapshot of the near future, convinced of its reality.  Four stars.

Hermit, by J. T. McIntosh

A lone male officer at a remote military outpost has orders to destroy any incoming human vessel.  But when a lifeboat appears with one beautiful young woman aboard, he must decide between following his instructions or following his heart.

This is a setup that, when done well, can be quite compelling.  My favorite example is Hallunication Orbit, in which the solitary caretaker of a far-off observatory must determine whether his visitors are real or not.  Interestingly, that fine example was written more than a decade ago by none other than…J.T. McIntosh!

Hermit compares poorly with McIntosh's earlier tale.  Not only is it clear from the beginning that the "castaway" is a spy, but the sentry's actions are illogical, treasonous, and only explained by exposition in the last few paragraphs.  Two stars, and an admonition — don't plagiarize, especially from your own work!

Territory, by Poul Anderson

The trouble with do-gooding is that it's a contract with no consideration.  If the people you're helping don't understand your motivations, they don't appreciate the help.  At least, that's Anderson's assertion in Territory, in which human scientists were trying to avert an impending Ice Age are slaughtered by the aliens they were trying to help.

The project is salvaged by Nicholas van Rijn, a recurring Anderson character whose key traits include girth, malaprops, obnoxiousness, and the pursuit of profit.  He determines that the aliens won't take assistance, but they will jump into a mutually lucrative trade deal that accomplishes the same goal.  Win-win-win.

Well, wins for the characters — not for the reader.  Van Rijn is barely tolerable at his best, and when Anderson has the sole surviving scientist, a young woman, fall for the lout, it took great restraint to not throw the issue into a nearby toilet.  Two stars.

Ham Sandwich, by James H. Schmitz

Last up is an inconsequential story that is nowhere more at home than in the pages of Analog.  An oily character, specializing in the desires of the rich, offers True Insight to those who can afford it.  Such Insight is marked by the cultivation and demonstration of psychic powers, which can be greatly aided through the purchase of certain tools, available for just $1200 a-piece.

One reads the story waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when it does, it is with a dull thud.  The flim-flammer is brought in on bunko charges — turns out he really is con artist.  But he's then let free to continue his scheme in another city because, it turns out, he is effective at discovering latent psychic talents, who can then be recruited by the government.

It's just not very good.  Two stars.

Pencils down everyone.  It's time to grade the last test results before graduation day.  Oh my…  This month's Analog scored a dismal 2.6 stars.  That's as bad as June's Galaxy (our High School is failing our pupil, too, it seems).  But let's not judge out of hand, shall we?  Amazing clocked in at 2.8, New Worlds at 2.9.  Mediocre, but not entirely damning.  Fantastic scored 3.2 stars, and F&SF garnered an impressive 3.5 star grade.

In the end, I wouldn't say this is a set of failing marks.  Rather, they indicate that the genre has spent more than enough time in school and must strike out on its own to new vistas to reach the next level.  Let us allow SF to graduate

We might also consider replacing the Principal at Analog — his methods are highly outdated, and we don't want to unduly burden any new pupils, now do we?




[May 27, 1963] A Clang of Doom?  (New Worlds, June 1963)


by Mark Yon

One sad piece of news to start with this month. I have just found out that Science Fiction Adventures has published its last, with the May 1963 issue. I understand that sales were not what they used to be in its heyday. It is hoped that this may be a temporary measure, but previous history suggests to me that, sadly, this may be the end. [The latest Science Fiction Times seems to indicate that the cancellation is permanent (ed.)]

If this is part of a general trend, then it may explain some of the recent changes with New Worlds, including this month’s cover:

Well, at least this month’s cover doesn’t have the egregious spelling error last month’s issue had. We also have one large photo on the cover, which is an improvement on those of recent months without one.

However, it does raise issues – are things that bad that New Worlds needs the lure of a movie on its cover to raise sales? I think Editor John Carnell has tried to improve sales this month by putting a movie review head and shoulders above the fiction. (This also happened with the July 1962 issue as well, when the cover showed television programme Out of This World.)

More worryingly, with Mr. Carnell being distracted by such events away from New Worlds has he lost his focus on the magazine? I have, in recent months, raised worries about some of the recent changes, which now make sense. The use of Guest Editors over the last year may have given Mr Carnell space and time to sort things out, but I am still concerned that whilst this issue is full of experienced writers and magazine regulars, it the magazine is becoming less about the fiction and more about what is going on outside its pages. 

Beer In The Wine Bottle, by Mr. John Ashcroft

This month’s guest editor is another unusual choice. Like Mr. Michael Moorcock, back in March, he is better known for his fiction outside of New Worlds. As the magazine profile suggests, Mr. John Ashcroft has had stories published in sister magazines Science Fantasy and Science Fiction Adventures, but is relatively unknown here.

That’s a pretty big claim at the end of the profile, but the Editorial made a point that many s-f readers will appreciate: "Contemporary science fiction is generally more competently written; but it is more complacent." Mr. Ashcroft advocates that that old "sense-of-wonder" is important and that current writers need to raise their game. 

From The-Old-Man-In-The-Mountain, by Mr. Joseph Green

I must admit I was not looking forward to Mr. Joseph Green’s novelette this month. As the third story of an unimpressive series (so far), albeit in a longer form, I was prepared to be underwhelmed. However, it is a pleasant enough tale of the increasingly mutual interaction between colonising humans and the hirsute aliens named Loafers, even if the Loafers remind me of Mr. H. Beam Piper’s Little Fuzzies, with added telepathy. In this tale it all turns a bit Midwich Cuckoo with a young Loafer abducted by an embittered human outsider, but, with teamwork from the humans and the aliens, unsurprisingly ends with all being well. A better effort than Mr. Green’s others in the series, if still rather unmemorable. Evidently the last in the series is in next month’s issue. 3 out of 5.

To the other stories.

End-Game by Mr. J. G. Ballard

By contrast, and like Mr. Brian Aldiss last month, this is a welcome return to New Worlds of an author who had moved on to a wider literary field. This is even better than Mr. Ballard’s last tale of consumer stress (The Subliminal Man, January 1963). End-Game is another typically Ballardian tale of isolation and emotional anguish, featuring an imprisoned man to be executed but at a time unknown to him. It becomes a psychological battle of wills between the condemned and his executioner, masked by a series of chess games that imply a fight between a police state and the individual. As with the best of Ballard, it is complex and intelligent, making me believe something that could happen behind the Iron Curtain. It even self-knowingly references Kafka! Not surprisingly, the best story in the issue. 4 out of 5.

Occupation Force, by Mr. David Rome

From another returning regular, Mr. Rome’s tale is quite different to his last (Meaning, December 1962).  Occupation Force is a war story, telling of the uneasy relationship between a nuclear-weapon-wielding occupying army and the seemingly innocent oppressed "natives." In these times of campaigns for nuclear disarmament, it is a thought-experiment of a possibility that could also be relevant in 1963. Sadly, it is also short, predictable and, even with the attempt to shock through a downbeat ending, surprisingly forgettable. A lesser effort. 2 out of 5.

Dipso Facto, by Mr. Robert Presslie

Mr. Presslie’s return to New Worlds is also a disappointing effort. Even if I ignored the "poor, dumb natives" angle, this attempt to be humorous in a story of competitive eating and drinking is a long, long way away from the intelligence of similar stories, such as Mr. Poul Anderson’s Nicholas van Rijn tales.  It fails pretty quickly. Also 2 out of 5.

Window On The Moon, by Mr. E. C. Tubb

And so to the last of this serial. Last month’s part ended with a couple of shocks – an explosion that destroyed the Royal Commission sent to the British Base, and the Americans who visited the Brits also mysteriously killed on their journey back to their base. This issue deals with the aftermath and gives us a cause for the strange happenings. I’m pleased to say that the US and British bases did not declare war on each other, and it is left to our hero, Felix Larsen, to resolve things. I did predict the villain of the piece a couple of issues ago, but this didn’t stop me enjoying this last part of "Brits in Space." Window on the Moon is a tale told with energy and enthusiasm, even though I felt that it didn’t know how to draw it all together at the end convincingly.  Not quite as good at the end as in the earlier parts. It made me wonder what someone like Mr. Arthur C. Clarke would do with it. 3 out of 5.

Film Review: The Day of the Triffids, by Mr John Carnell,

The last part of the magazine is given over to stills and a commentary of this film I looked forward to seeing, back in July 1962, so it is odd to just now get to read a review. The good news is that, I understand, it has recently been released in the USA, so you will be able to see it yourselves. Fellow Traveller Ashley described it in detail back in July. Like her, I was a little disappointed at the differences between the film and Mr. John Wyndham’s fantastic novel, but here Mr. Carnell is more glowing in its fulsome praise, despite the concerns over its delay and production issues. According to the editor, even the author, Mr. John Wyndham, was rather impressed, despite the changes.

In summary, the June issue is, thankfully, another generally solid issue, but with the odd misstep. Not quite as strong as last month’s, but worthy of a read. Despite my concerns mentioned earlier over Mr. Carnell’s editorship, it must be said that the last couple of months have produced issues that have been both memorable and thought-provoking. For all of its faults, there is nothing else quite like New Worlds. I am rather feeling that I must make the most of magazines such as this, whilst I can. I fear that the writing might be on the wall…




[May 24, 1963] Past Tense (June 1963 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

What's past is prologue.
The Tempest by William Shakespeare

The past is never dead.  It's not even past.
Requiem for a Nun by William Faulkner

People, things, and events of the past were in the news in recent weeks, as if to demonstrate the truth of these two famous quotations.

Sir Winston Churchill, who has been an important figure in world affairs since the beginning of this century, announced his retirement from politics.  On a smaller scale, another politician of historical significance left the public stage, as Richard Nixon made plans to join the law firm of Mudge, Stern, Baldwin & Todd.  Whatever we may think of these two men, let us wish them well as they return to private lives.

Terrible memories of the Second World War returned to many this month.  The Soviet Union, after nearly two decades of denial, confirmed that it had recovered and identified the burned remains of Adolf Hitler at the end of the war.  This should put an end to the rumors of his survival in South America.

Happier times came to mind as Telstar II went into Earth orbit.  It will continue the duties of its older sibling, which is no longer functioning.  It remains to be seen if this second satellite in the Telstar series will inspire another hit song like the first one did.

Speaking of hit songs, the most recent tunes to reach Number One in the USA also brought back memories of the past.  Early in the month, Little Peggy March reached the top of the charts with I Will Follow Him.  This passionate love song takes its melody from the instrumental composition Chariot by French musician Franck Pourcel.  Multilingual British singer Petula Clark already had hits on the Continent, but not in the UK or US, with versions of the same tune in English, French, Italian, and German.

Currently, the biggest hit song in the United States is If You Wanna Be Happy by Jimmy Soul.  This humorous warning against marrying a pretty woman is a remake of Ugly Woman by calypso singer Roaring Lion, from way back in 1934.

[My nephew, David, loves this song.  His new bride, Ada, does not seem very amused. (Ed.)]

Appropriately, many of the stories in the latest issue of Fantastic involve past and present coming together.

The Mirror of Cagliostro, by Robert Arthur

Les Brown Coye's striking cover painting, the first color work of his that I've seen, sets the mood for this eerie tale of black magic.  In London, more than fifty years ago, a man murders a woman, then takes his own life.  The scene changes to contemporary Paris, as a professor of history, researching the life of Count Alexander Cagliostro, makes a strange discovery in a catacomb.  He later obtains the enchanted mirror of that alleged sorcerer.  Things quickly worsen, as the evil Count continues his horrible crimes in the modern world.  This is an effective Gothic chiller, but typical of its kind.  Three stars.

Plumrose, by Ron Goulart

An author best known as a humorist offers a similar plot told in a much different style.  A time ray brings a modern man back to the Nineteenth Century.  It seems that an occult detective wants his help in solving the murders of several young women.  Despite this grim premise, the story is a lighthearted parody of the kind of thing that used to appear in Weird Tales.  It provides a reasonable amount of amusement.  Three stars.

On the Mountain, by Dave Mayo

A man hikes far out into the wilderness.  Lost during a blizzard and far from any other human being, he sees a strange red light that terrifies him.  The outcome is unexpected.  This is a brief story that adequately tells its simple tale.  Once again, it involves the past and the present.  Three stars.

The Penalty, by John J. Wooster

A native New Yorker who has never left the city gets in trouble with his boss and has to take a week off without pay.  He decides to visit what he thinks is the country, by riding the subway as far as he can go.  He winds up at an old mansion.  A young woman offers to solve his problems, if he will follow her instructions exactly.  She warns him that failure to do so will carry a severe penalty.  What follows reminds me of the classic story What You Need by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore, writing as Lewis Padgett.  (This story was later adapted for television twice, on Tales of Tomorrow and Twilight Zone.) Despite this link to a past work, the author creates an original tale with an unusual mood and a unique ending.  Four stars.

A Hoax in Time (Part 1 of 3), by Keith Laumer

The first part of the latest novel from this prolific author sets up the premise quickly.  A man inherits a mansion from his great-grandfather.  Unfortunately, it doesn't really belong to him until he pays an immense amount of overdue taxes on it.  He discovers that his deceased progenitor created a super-advanced computer, which receives all recorded information.  The computer has become conscious, and improved its capacity until it is virtually omniscient.  It – or I should say she, since the computer takes on a female personality – can recreate past events in full detail.  The man decides to use this ability to raise money, by allowing audiences to view historical events.  The computer creates a robot body for herself, in the form of a beautiful (and naked) young woman, so it can act as a hostess for these shows.  During a test, things go very badly.  Typical for the author, this is a fast-moving, humorous adventure with a touch of satire.  It's heavy with dialogue, and features plenty of ideas thrown in left and right.  So far, it's superficial entertainment of an enjoyable kind.  Three stars.

The Hall of CD, by David R. Bunch

This is a bizarre, surreal story that is difficult to describe.  The narrator goes through a series of rooms and witnesses various weird events, usually disturbing.  I suspect that many readers will hate it or love it.  I'll stay in the middle.  Three stars.

A Museum Piece, by Roger Zelazny

An unsuccessful artist disguises himself as a statue and goes to live in a museum.  He soon discovers another person hiding from the world in the same way.  Others appear, and complications ensue.  Once again, a new tale reminds me of a classic story.  This time it's Evening Primrose by John Collier, in which people secretly live in a department store.  The new story is more than just a rehash of the old one.  The author writes in an elegant, slightly affected way.  (Characters say things like "Alas" and "'Tis".) In a lesser talent, this could be annoying, but here it works very well.  There's an unexpected touch of science fiction at the end, which adds to the story's charm.  Four stars.

Overall, this was a worthy issue, with no bad stories and a couple of very good ones.  Let's hope this level of quality doesn't become a thing of the past.




[May 18, 1963] (June 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Every so often, you get a perfect confluence of events that makes life absolutely rosy.  In Birmingham, Alabama, the segregationist forces have caved in to the boycott and marching efforts of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference.  Two days ago, astronaut Gordo Cooper completed a day-and-a-half in orbit, putting America within spitting distance of the Russians in the Space Race.  And this month, Avram Davidson has turned out their first superlative issue of F&SF since he took the editorial helm last year. 

Check out the June 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction and see if you don't agree:

No Truce With Kings, by Poul Anderson

Centuries after The Bombs Fell, the North American continent has scratched its way back to the early 20th Century, technology-wise, but enlightened feudalism remains the order of the day.  Kings begins on the eve of civil war in the Pacific States of America after a coup has placed an expansionist government in charge in San Francisco bent on reestablishing Manifest Destiny.  Colonel McKenzie of the Sierra Military Command must fight to preserve the old confederacy in the face of superior forces as well as the belligerent "neutrality" of the Esps — communal mystics who seem to have developed terrible psychic weapons.

Don't worry — the story really does belong in this magazine, and not Analog!

Anderson, of course, has been a pleasure to read for many years (since his inexplicable dip in the late '50s.) Kings is a nuanced, character-driven war story filled with lurid descriptions of battles and strategic considerations.  It's a bit like The High Crusade played straight, actually.  Four stars for the general reader, five if combat is your bag.

Pushover Planet, by Con Pederson

This piece starts well enough, with a pair of dialect-employing space miners landing on an uncommonly idyllic world and meeting an uncommonly friendly alien.  The ending, on the other hand, is pure ironic corn, and on the whole, the story feels like an idea Bob Sheckley rejected as not worth his time to write.  I don't know who Pederson is any more than Davidson does (apparently, the Editor doesn't even know where to send payment for this story written nearly a decade ago).  In any event, I don't think the magazine got its money's worth.  Two stars.

Starlesque, by Walter H. Kerr

About an alien stripper who takes it all off.  Not worth your time.  Two stars.

Green Magic, by Jack Vance

Oh, but Vance's latest work absolutely is!  Dig this: beyond our world lie the realms of White and Black magic, each featuring the powers and denizens you might expect.  But beyond them, and possessing powers more abstract and strange are the realms of Purple and Green magic (and further still, those of the indescribable colors, rawn and pallow).  One Howard Fair would follow in his Uncle Gerald's footsteps to become adept in the wonders of Green magic, no matter the warnings from a pair of its citizens.

A brilliant, unique piece that lasts just long enough and grips throughout.  Five stars.

The Light That Failed!, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor continues with his series on the luminiferous ether, this time discussing the famous Michelson-Morley experiment.  This test was supposed to show Earth's "absolute speed" through the cosmic medium.  Instead, it disproved the ether's existence and set the stage for Einstein's and Planck's modern conceptions of the universe.  Vital stuff to know.  Four stars.

The Weremartini, by Vance Aandahl

Young Vance Aandahl (no relation to Jack Vance) has produced his first readable story in a long time, about an epicurian English professor whose alternate form is exactly as it says on the tin.  Weird, disturbing, but not bad.  Three stars.

Bokko-Chan, by Hoshi Shinnichi

A barkeep builds the perfect assistant — a beautiful but empty-headed robot woman to occupy the attentions (and tabs) of the tavern's patrons.  Billed as the first Japanese SF story to appear in English, it reads like a barbed children's story.  I suspect it's better in the original language (and I'd love to get a copy, since I could read it — I actually was aware of Hoshi-san before he appeared in these pages), but it's not bad, even in translation.  Three stars.

Tis the Season to Be Jelly, by Richard Matheson

Only Matheson could successfully manage this tale of post-atomic, mutated hicks.  Stupidly brilliant, or brilliantly stupid.  You decide.  Three stars.

Another Rib, by John J. Wells and Marion Zimmer Bradley

Just 16 men, the crew of humanity's first interstellar expedition, are all that remain of homo sapiens after catastrophe claims our mother star.  All hope seems lost for our species…until a native of Proxima Centauri offers to surgically alter some of the spacemen, expressing their latent female reproductive organs.

Rib is an interesting exploration of what it means to be a man, and the varying degree of push required (if any!) for a person to transition from one gender to another.  A bold piece.  Four stars.

There Are No More Good Stories About Mars Because We Need No More Good Stories About Mars, by Brian Aldiss

Things wrap up with a bitter poem about how science has ruined Mars for SF, but who cares — we'll always have Barsoom.  Three stars.

The resulting issue is a solid house made of the finest bricks albeit rather low quality mortar.  Good G-d, even Davidson's editorial openings are decent now.  Maybe he reads my column…