Category Archives: Serial

[June 10, 1969] Points West and Above (July 1969 Galaxy)

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

The Orient

Thanks to centuries of tradition, we tend to think of the Far East as…well…east!  But for us, going to Japan means a 12-hour flight west—literally into tomorrow, as we cross the International Date Line to do it. 

This week marked the beginning of our fourteenth trip to Japan.  How things have changed since we first went back in 1948, when flying via Northwest Orient meant an entire day of travel with multiple stops.  Travel these days is practically instantaneous by comparison.

We were even able to hop on a same-day domestic flight from Tokyo to Fukuoka, which is where I'm writing this.  I've been able to develop my first roll of color film, the results of which I am happy to share:

The Alient

The latest issue of Galaxy is, like this month's IF, the first under the helm of Ejler Jakobsson, and it's also a month late.  Will it be more interesting than the rather dull IF?  Well, it's certainly different.  After all, the lead piece is one I would have expected to appear in Analog.  Why wouldn't Campbell want the sequel to the incredibly popular and presumably lucrative Dune.  Dunno… but here it is:


by Dan Adkins

Dune Messiah (Part 1 of 5), by Frank Herbert


by Jack Gaughan

And so we return to Arrakis, the Dune planet, the only source of the spice melange, which gives the power of prophecy, allows the navigators of the Guild to ply the hyperspace lanes, and is the only currency of note in the Empire.

Last time, Paul Atreides, son of the murdered Duke of Arrakis, had seized his destiny as the kwizatz haderach, leading his army of desert Fremen against the Padisha Emperor in a coup that placed the young general in charge of a galactic domain.

It is now twelve years later, and disparate factions are plotting to overthrow Paul, who has become a figurehead in an interstellar Jihad.  The plotters include the Bene Geneserit, the sisterhood that manipulated Paul and his sister, Aria's, genetic destiny; the navigators' Guild, and Irulan, wife of Paul, and daughter of the cruel Baron Harkonnen, who wrested Arrakis from Paul's father. 

We know there's a plot because it is the subject of an endless scene at the beginning of the serial installment.  And because Paul then discusses the plot at length with his companins at an endless meeting of state in the latter part of the serial.  The plot involves predestination, an heir for Paul (his true love, the Fremen Chani, is being kept secretly sterile by Irulan, who wants to beat the child), and the reincarnated form of Duncan Idaho, one of Paul's comrades in the last book.

There.  Now you don't actually have to read this chapter, which is all for the best, as it's as deadly dull and motionless as the worst parts of Dune.  At least the viewpoints don't change every five sentences.

Two stars so far.

Full Commitment, by Robert S. Martin

Senator Clint is on an investigative junket to Burma, where America is in an endless war against… the Capitalists?  What happened to the Communists?  And why do all the soldiers parrot the exact same line when explaining why they're there to fight?

Brainwashing, obviously…which is how Clint is ultimately disposed of.

A pointless story, poorly done.  One star.

The City That Was the World, by James Blish


by Dan Adkins

James Blish tells the story of a man who makes Howard Hughes look like a piker.  John Hillary Dane is a man with vision…or perhaps visions is more appropriate.  First, he builds an enormous pair of telescopes four miles high in the Andes.  Then he erects a mile-high skyscraper in Denver, the mile-high city.  While the reason for the former is never really explained (other than the obvious reasons—the seeing is much better above the majority of the atmosphere), the purpose of the immense building is the point of the story.

I don't really want to spoil things, so I'll just say that the tale deals with time travel, Malthusian overpopulation, and the value (or lack thereof) of friendship.  It's a good story, although few of the elements are really plausible.

Four stars (and the best piece in the issue).

For Your Information: Eugen Sanger and the Rocket-Propelled Airplane, by Willy Ley

Willy Ley's article is on Eugen Saenger, the Austrian cum German rocket scientists perhaps best known for his design of the America Bomber—a rocket-plane that would fly high enough to skip on the upper atmosphere until it reached New York.  There's a lot of good information that probably can't easily be found elsewhere, since Ley relies on at least one personal source.  That said, it's kind of a dull piece.

Three stars.

A Brief History of the Revolution, by David Lunde and James Sallis

In a piece that might well have come out in Fantasy and Science Fiction (or maybe the old Galaxy sister mag, Beyond), we have a young couple hounded by their animate furniture until they are effectively evicted.  The cause of all this appears to be the wife's desire to have a child.

Not very good.  Two stars.

The Kinsolving's Planet Irregulars, by A. Bertram Chandler


by Reese

Last up is the latest journey of Commodore John Grimes, the famed skipper of the Galactic Rim.  In a direct sequel to The Rim Gods, Grimes and his First Mate (though likely not his first mate) Sonya head back to Kinsolving’s Planet.  You may recall from the last story (or the review thereof) that the team Grimes escorted tried to exploit some time-space weakness to psionically summon Jehovah.  Instead, they incarnated the Olympian pantheon.

This time, their efforts throw Grimes into a fantasy land populated exclusively by fictional characters, from a certain Baker Street detective to larger-than-life but real people like Oedipus and Achilles.  Things get really weird when Grimes starts to question his own reality…

I always enjoy Chandler's Rim stories, but this one is just a bit too cute.  It also looks like the author is tired of the Grimes series and would love to end it…if only the money weren't good.

Three stars.

Things that came and things to come

And that's that.  Quality-wise, a thoroughly unremarkable issue.  Indeed, the only real bit of note is how many of the stories seem to be in the wrong magazine.  I confess I am kind of looking forward to the post-Pohl era.  I want to see how things change for this venerable magazine.

Of course, I also know to be careful what I wish for…

(and stay tuned for more updates from Japan!)






[June 6, 1969] Blue Skies (July 1969 Amazing)


by John Boston

Samuel Johnson described second marriages as the triumph of hope over experience.  It is tempting to say something similar about changes of editor at Amazing.  But that impulse is at least postponed by the upbeat mien of this July issue.


by Johnny Bruck

That sky is about as blue as any I've seen on a magazine cover, and more importantly, the cover goes some way to answer the cry for a good cover by Johnny Bruck, whose hackneyed spaceships and guys with guns have become so tiresome on recent issues.  This one is a bit cartoonish, but at least it’s clever and amusing—a spaceport scene with some impressive-looking spacecraft, but the people on the ground have eyes only for the bright yellow futuristic automobile, with huge tailfins, a transparent dome over the passenger compartment, and whitewall tires.  Oh, it has side fins too.  Maybe it flies.

The magazine’s contents also lean in a promising direction.  Almost half of the magazine (70 of 144 pages, excluding the front and back covers) is devoted to the first part of Robert Silverberg’s serialized novel Up the Line.  It’s rare for magazines to give that big a chunk of available space to a serial installment, but it makes sense in a bimonthly magazine. As a side benefit, it leaves less room for the reprints, which take up only 27 pages.  The book review column is back, with substantial reviews by William Atheling, Jr. (James Blish) and editor White.  The letter column is here again, and the promised fanzine review column has now appeared, nine pages worth, by John D. Berry.  White’s editorial says that the fan feature in Fantastic will be reprints of selected fanzine articles.  The guest editorials in Amazing will be gone—the editorial spot’s going to be his. It all gives a sense of an energetic editor getting a quick start at implementing his desires.

A more dubious innovation is the new typeface.  Multiple typefaces are nothing new at Amazing, but Silverberg’s serial, Leon Stover’s article, and the book and fanzine reviews and letter column are set in a tiny typeface that challenges my ill-made eyes (see the glasses in my photo?).  Microscopic type for things like letter columns is an old tradition—just check your copies of the Hugo Gernsback Amazing if the silverfish haven’t gotten to them—but for this much of the magazine it spells headache for me and I suspect many others.

Up the Line (Part 1 of 2), by Robert Silverberg

The biggest deal in this issue is of course Robert Silverberg’s serialized novel Up the Line.  Silverberg, formerly a capable journeyman magazine-filler, has in recent years become a much more powerful and original writer. In just the past two years he has produced four novels that put him in a different league entirely than did his earlier work: Thorns, To Open the Sky, Hawksbill Station, and The Masks of Time, with several more out or on the way this year. 


by Dan Adkins

Per my practice, I will hold off reviewing and rating Up the Line until it is finished.  But a quick peek reveals that it is a time travel story, told in the first person by a young man at loose ends who joins the Time Couriers—not the Time Police, the Couriers’ nemesis—and that it is a considerable departure from the relatively serious recent works mentioned above.  Parts of it suggest that the author wrote with the stage in mind.  The vaudeville stage, that is.  E.g., as the protagonist explains to his new friend the Time Courier why he abandoned his budding career as law clerk to a Judge Mattachine:

“My uncle is Justice Elliott of the U.S. Higher Supreme Court.  He thought I ought to get into a decent line of work.”

“You don’t have to go to law school to be a law clerk?”

“Not any more,” I explained.  “The machines do all the data retrieval, anyway.  The clerks are just courtiers.  They congratulate the judge on his brilliance, procure for him, submit to him, and so forth.  I stuck it out for eight days and podded out.”

“You have troubles,” Sam said sagely.

“Yes.  I’ve got a simultaneous attack of restlessness, weltschmerz, tax liens, and unfocused ambition.”

“Want to try for tertiary syphilis?” Helen asked.

“Not just now.”

So Mr. Silverberg appears to be having a good time.  Reading a little further confirms that he also seems to be trying to offend everyone in sight, which may explain why this new novel by a fast-rising author is appearing in the field’s lowest-paying magazine, rather than in the more stately mansions of Pohl, Ferman, or JWC, Jr.  In any case, I look forward to completing these scabrous revels.

Only Yesterday, by Ted White

Editor White’s Only Yesterday is a more somber time travel story, in which the ill-at-ease protagonist Bob approaches a young woman as she gets off a train, asks if he can walk with her, says he’s a friend of a friend (she suggestibly supplies the friend’s name, and he agrees), and she invites him in for refreshments and to meet the family.  He hits it off with her and her brothers and her parents, and offers to tell her fortune—a futuristic vision which turns into nightmarish war.  She’s shocked and disturbed, and he quickly says he was making it up, offers a more palatable vision, and beats a hasty retreat.  Revelation of who he is and why he’s there follows.  It’s smoothly written and well visualized, but the ease with which Bob inserts himself into the family setting is too implausible to overlook.  Still, nice try, very readable, three stars. 

Hue and Cry, by Bob Shaw

Bob Shaw’s Hue and Cry is about as far as one can get from his very well received Light of Other Days.  It's a cartoonish story in which a spaceship full of humans lands among sentient carnivorous reptilians who think of them only as food, scheme to eat them all, and are thwarted with a silly gimmick.  Two stars, generously.

Poison Pen, by Milton Lesser

The reprints in this issue are a mostly malodorous batch from the doldrums of the mid-1950s.  The best that can be said for them is that they don’t take up much space.

Milton Lesser’s Poison Pen (from Amazing, December 1955) is a silly botch of a story.  For thirty years, humanity has been under the thumb of the extraterrestrial Masters.  Now they’ve left, and people are dancing in the streets.  The main thing we know about the Masters is that they made people keep diaries and read from them in neighborhood gatherings, and that practice continues.  Why?  Dr. Trillis says it’s because the Masters taught everyone “from the cradle” to be compulsive exhibitionists (how?) so they could control people, “and the older generation either had to go along with it or feel left out.” So people ought to stop with the diaries and the readings, he says.  But they don’t.  Worse, they start stealing other people’s diaries and making fake entries in them—false confessions of having been “co-operationists.” Executions begin.  Our hero helps Dr. Trillis escape and they wind up in a settlement of people “who somehow haven’t been contaminated,” in New Jersey.


by Paul Orban

If the description sounds sketchy and incoherent, that’s because the story is.  It’s an insult to the readers, pretty clearly dashed off without a thought of anything but a quick check.  One star.

No Place to Go, by Henry Slesar


by Erwin Schroeder

Henry Slesar’s No Place to Go (Amazing, July 1958), by contrast, is at least a competent piece of yard goods.  A crack team of astronauts goes to the Moon, takes a look outside, and sees Earth blow up, leaving them alive but stranded. Shortly, some of the astronauts are blowing up too.  But wait—April fool!  It was all a test!  They were drugged with a hypnotic chemical, visions planted in their heads while they slept!  The captain then tells the guy who didn’t blow up that he’s now second in command, and he’ll be going to Mars.  It's cliches wrapped around a gimmick, but unlike Lesser’s story, it doesn’t reek of contempt for the readership.  Three stars, generously.

Note that in our crude rating system, what I’ve just described as “cliches wrapped around a gimmick” gets the same grade as White’s much more capable effort.  Just remember that there’s a lot of space between 3.0 and 3.9.

Puzzle in Yellow, by Randall Garrett


by Leo R. Summers

Randall Garrett’s Puzzle in Yellow (Amazing, November 1956) is a trivial gimmick story on that ever-popular theme, the Stupid Alien.  Extra-terrestrial Ghevil is scoping out Earth for invasion and pillage by the “hordes of Archeron.” He wants to check out an isolated military installation, so he finds a remote building with big walls and turrets, and figures he’s found what he’s looking for.  He kills the first person he sees emerge from the building, and disguises himself in the man’s uniform.  He tries to enter and is shot dead.  Take a wild guess what the installation he tried to enter actually is. The yellow of the title, by the way, refers to Ghevil’s blood.  Two stars, barely.

The Pendant Spectator, by Leon E. Stover

Leon Stover’s “Science of Man” article this month is The Pendant Spectator, a phrase he got from Samuel Johnson’s novel Rasselas, which means, more or less, someone with a view from a height.  “Spaceship Earth” is also invoked.  Stover seems to have abandoned his project of educating us all about anthropology.  Here we have a protracted editorial on the necessity for humanity to get its act together and get right with the biosphere, limiting population, developing energy sources (i.e., the sun) that will neither pollute the atmosphere like fuel combustion nor overheat the place like nuclear power, engaging in international cooperation, accepting a degree of coercive regulation in these and other causes, etc.  It’s hard to argue with any of it, but it’s also hard to imagine that the SF readership is who needs to hear it, so it seems a bit pointless.  This series seems about ready to die a natural death.  Two stars.

Summing Up

So the harbingers seem to be blowing in the right direction, even if the actual fiction contents, possibly excepting Silverberg, are not much changed from the recent norm.  “Looking good” would be premature, but “looking like it might look good” would fit.  Or—as I’ve said more times than I can count about this magazine—promising.






[June 2, 1969] The ever-whirling wheel (July 1969 IF)


by David Levinson

A change is gonna come

Regular readers of Galactic Journey or of SF magazines in general may have noticed that neither Galaxy nor IF published last month. With a bit of detective work, I’ve put together what happened.

The clues are on the masthead. Editor Fred Pohl is now listed as Editor Emeritus, while the editor is Ejler Jakobsson. The publisher is no longer Robert M. Guinn, but Arnold E. Abramson, and Galaxy Publishing has been replaced by Universal Publishing. (That last worried me for a moment, but I quickly remembered that Amazing and Fantastic are put out by Ultimate Publishing under Sol Cohen.)

There’s also an editorial from Fred, talking about the changes. Most importantly, he’s stepping back to focus more on writing. That and the fact that he’s sticking around to look over the new editor’s shoulder (Fred’s words) for a while suggests his departure is voluntary and doesn’t suggest any misgivings about the new ownership on his part. Plus, we should be getting new stuff from him more often.

Who is Ejler Jakobsson? He had a few horror stories back in the late 30s, cowritten with his wife Edith, but if his name sounds familiar, it’s most likely because he was the editor for the revival of Super Science Stories from 1949-1951. Coincidentally, that magazine had been edited by Fred Pohl before it was shut down by wartime paper shortages.

What changes can we expect? Fred prefers to let us see them as they happen, but the promo for next month hints at some. IF is getting a book review column by Lester del Rey. That may or may not mean the end of his “If… and When” column. We’re also getting a twelve part series by Willy Ley, “The Story of Our Earth.” That might suggest some changes over at Galaxy.

Of course, the biggest question is what sort of stories Jakobsson will buy. It will be a while before we get a good feel for that, since there’s bound to be a backlog of stories selected by Pohl. It took several months for the Fermans over at Fantasy and Science Fiction to change the course set by Avram Davidson, but Ted White has wrestled Amazing and Fantastic into a new direction almost immediately. We’ll see, but we should have a good idea by the time we start the new decade.

A bang or a whimper?

Since this is the last issue under Fred Pohl’s leadership, it’s fair to ask what sort of note he goes out on. Will he put out a strong issue, go out on a high note and remind us why this magazine has won three straight Hugos? Or will it be utterly awful and make us glad he’s gone? Not to ruin the suspense, but the July issue is really just another typical, middle-of-the-road example. There’s some good stuff and some not so good. Let’s start with the cover.

Art credited only as couresy of Three Lions, Inc. but actually by German artist Johnny Bruck.

You may recall that the last issue had a similar uncredited cover that Robert Bloch apparently used for his story Groovyland. Once again we have a Johnny Bruck cover, originally for Perry Rhodan #102, which an American author has used for inspiration. This time Keith Laumer has come up with a story much more clearly based on the art than Bloch’s was. I’m not keen on this trend, though it’s slightly better than what they do over at Amazing and Fantastic.

Here’s the original art by Johnny Bruck.

The Towns Must Roll (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

Long-time readers of Mack Reynolds’s work will be familiar with his stories of People’s Capitalism. That appears to be giving way to what he calls the Meritocracy. The biggest difference so far is the replacement of every citizen’s ten shares of Inalienable Basic with a Negative Income Tax.

In Mack’s latest novel, the NIT enables people to pick up and move to places anywhere in the world where the cost of living is lower. They often gather in rolling towns that consist of mobile homes that make the fanciest Airstream trailer look like a pup tent. Our protagonist is Bat Hardin, a man of mixed race who provides police services to a town on its way to South America. After crossing into Mexico, the town encounters unexpected hostility from the locals, including credible threats of extreme violence. Meanwhile, Bat’s authority in the town is being threatened by an extremely racist, newer resident. To be concluded.

Bat has been kidnapped to deliver a message: Gringos go home. Art by Gaughan

This is typical Reynolds of the better sort. He’s not just rehashing the same tired plot points, and while there’s the usual lectures on history and economics, they’re reasonably concise and to the point. Mack is quicker to point out the flaws in the system, but also subtler than usual. As a man who thinks he has no future in the Meritocracy because an Army test rated his IQ as 93, Bat is an interesting character, though he seems much brighter than that; we’ll see if whether that will be relevant to the plot or just Reynolds not being able to write someone of low average intelligence. Plus, we’ve got a tense situation. I look forward to seeing how this all plays out.

A solid three stars.

On the Dead Star, by Jack L. Austin

An explorer aboard a one-man scout, with only the ship’s computer intelligence for company, discovers an impossible structure on the surface of a Black Dwarf.

This month’s new author gets off to a good start. The writing was sound and the situation intriguing. Unfortunately, Austin loses his way. The story just goes on too long; it could easily have been half the length. As is often the case in such tales, the conclusion winds up being rushed. It doesn’t come out of nowhere, but the whole thing wraps up in a couple of paragraphs, with the action taking place off-screen. It could be better, but Austin is only 20 and has room to grow. I’ll give him a chance.

A low three stars.

Autohuman 14, by Bruce McAllister

This story of policeman Grabe Massel is hard to summarize without giving away the big mid-point revelation (though you’ll probably see it coming). Let’s just say he has a very close relationship with his car.

There’s probably a really good story to be told with this set-up, but I’m not sure this is it. There’s some excellent writing here, particularly the use of engine noise, but it also feels like there’s a barrier that dulls the impact of the narrative on the reader. Still, it may be the best thing McAllister has written. He may finally be getting close to a breakthrough.

Three stars.

Spork Conquers Civilization, by Perry Chapdelaine

Tarzan… er, Spork is back. This time he and the Ayor travel to a human-occupied planet and deal with an evil dictator. Along with the mix of A.E. van Vogt and Edgar Rice Burroughs that the previous stories have offered, this one has a large dollop of Doc Smith. There’s probably more to come, since Spork appears to be Lord Greystoke… er, a lost prince, but I’m not looking forward to seeing any of it.

Barely three stars.

Spork and an Ayor. Art by Reese

Authorgraphs: An Interview with Robert Bloch

In this month’s interview, Robert Bloch talks about discovering science fiction, learning his trade with the Milwaukee Fictioneers, particularly Stanley Weinbaum, and making ends meet during the Depression. I would have liked a few words about his relationship with H.P. Lovecraft, but it’s a good interview overall.

Three stars.

Portrait by Gaughan

The Half Man, by Keith Laumer

Long cut off from the rest of humanity, the planet Meries is being considered for reintegration into the human community. At some point in the past, the people and domestic animals of the planet became acquatic through genetic manipulation. Part of the team assessing the planet is Gon, the son of an itinerant trader and a local woman. Gon was raised on Earth and is having trouble making contact with the locals. He finally does so on the last day of the mission.

Gon has an encounter with a descendant of Earth dogs gone wild. Art by Barr

Keith Laumer tends to write stories that are either meant as humorous satire or two-fisted Competent Man adventures. Once in a while, though, he writes something deep and thoughtful. This is one of those rare occasions, despite the fact that it was written based on art created for another story in another language. Actually, it’s probably weaker for using that Johnny Bruck cover as the climax of the story. Still, it’s one of Laumer’s better pieces.

A high three stars.

A Day for Dying, by Charles Nuetzel

Charles Travers is arrested on false charges of treason and condemned to participate in the Tele-Games. His odds of survival are practically nil.

Nuetzel is unknown to me, but he’s apparently sold a few stories to a minor publisher and the semi-pro zine Spaceway. This story is fine, but nothing special. There’s a sting in the tail, but it doesn’t bite as hard as I think Nuetzel wanted it to.

Three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

How common is life in the universe? That’s a question that has had many answers over the years. Del Rey looks at those answers and how they’ve changed, along with the experiments and scientific findings that have caused those changes.

Four stars.

Where the Beast Runs, by Dean R. Koontz

Three hunters go after a creature that has killed several other groups just as experienced as they are. One of them will also have to confront a traumatic experience from his childhood.

The beast reflects Andy’s trauma back at him. Art by Adkins

With a few changes, this could have been a straight adventure set in Africa or South America. Like Bruce McAllister, Koontz shows a lot of promise, but never quite crosses the threshhold to being really good. He keeps getting close and does so here, but doesn’t quite get there.

Three stars.

Summing up

There it is. The last IF that is fully Fred Pohl’s. There’s nothing spectacularly good, but nothing spectacularly bad. As for the future under Ejler Jakobsson, we’ll have to wait and see. I’ll miss If… and When if it gets dropped for another book column. There’s also no letter column this month, but that might be to make space for some longer pieces as well as be an artifact of Pohl’s departure from the big chair. We are getting a new issue of Worlds of Fantasy in a few months. Let’s just hope that for IF and Galaxy all this, to paraphrase President Kennedy, symbolizes a beginning as well as an end, “signifying renewal as well as change.”

A sign of the changes to come. At least the Chapdelaine doesn’t look like more Spork.






[May 20, 1969] Ad Astra et Infernum (June 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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

To the Stars

Venus has gotten a lot of attention from Earth's superpowers.  Part of it is its tremendous similarity to our home in some ways: similar mass, similar composition, similar distance from the Sun (as such things go).  But the biggest reason why so many probes have been dispatched to the Solar System's second world (to wit: Mariner 2, Mariner 5, Venera 1, Veneras 2 and 3, and Venera 4) is because it's the closest planet to Earth.  Every 19 months, Earth and Venus are aligned such that a minimum of rocket is required to send a maximum of scientific payload toward the Planet of Love.  Since 1961, every opportunity has seen missions launched from at least one side of the Pole.

This year's was no exception: on January 5 and 10, the USSR launched Venera (Venus) 5 and 6 toward the second planet, and this month (the 16th and the 18th), they arrived.

Our conception of Venus has changed radically since spaceships started probing the world.  Just read our article on the planet, written back in 1959, before the world had been analyzed with radar and close-up instruments.  Now we know that the planet's surface is the hottest place in the Solar System outside the Sun: perhaps 980 degrees Fahrenheit!  The largely carbon dioxide and nitrogen atmosphere crushes the ground at up to 100 atmospheres of pressure.  The planet rotates very slowly backward, but there is virtually no difference between temperatures on the day and night sides due to the thick atmosphere.  There is no appreciable magnetic field (probably because the planet spins so slowly) so no equivalent to our Van Allen Belts or aurorae.

This is all information returned from outside the Venusian atmosphere.  Inference.  To get the full dope, one has to plunge through the air.  Venera 4 did that, returning lower temperatures and air pressures.  This was curious, but it makes sense if you don't believe the Soviet claim that the probe's instruments worked all the way to the ground—a dubious assertion given the incredibly hostile environment.  No, Venera 4 probably stopped working long before it touched down.

The same may be true of Veneras 5 and 6.  TASS has not released data yet, but while the two probes were successfully delivered onto Venus' surface, we have no way of knowing that they returned telemetry all the way down.  Indeed, the Soviet reports are rather terse and highlight the delivery of medals and a portrait of Lenin to Venus, eschewing any mention of soft landing.  The news does spend a lot of time talking about solar wind measurements on the way to Venus—useful information, to be sure, but beside the point.


The Venera spacecraft and lander capsule

Anyway, at the very least, we can probably hope to get some clarity on what goes on in the Venusian air.  It may have to wait until next time before we learn just what's happening on the ground, however.

To Hell

I bitched last month about the lousy issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  Well, I am happy to say that the May issue is more than redeemed by this June 1969 issue, which, if not stellar throughout, has sufficient high points to impress and delight.


by Gray Morrow

Sundance, Robert Silverberg

Silverbob has a knack for poetic, evocative writing as well as rich settings.  He has successfully made the transition from '50s hack SF author to New Wave vanguard.  Which is why this rather forgettable tale is all the more disappointing.

It's about a Sioux spaceman named Tom Two Ribbons who is part of a terraforming contingent on a virgin planet.  Except what his compatriots call terraforming, he calls genocide, for the millions of indigenous Eaters that they are clearing out to make room for farms are, he claims, intelligent.  To prove his point, he goes out among the aliens, dancing their way and his way, hoping to avert catastrophe. 

But is any of it real?  Or is it all a figment of his traumatized mind?

I just found it all a bit hollow and affected, and also confusing.  Not bad, but nowhere near Silverbob's best.

Three stars.

Pull Devil, Pull Baker!, Michael Harrison

A Jewish dentist finds himself implacably hostile to an Aryan patient, and, to his dismay, finds himself wanting to cause him pain in the examination chair.  Turns out the two have a history that goes back centuries to another life, when the drill was in the other hand, so to speak.

So unfolds an age-crossing riddle, at the end of which lies a treasure of untold riches, if only it can be deciphered.

I dug this one.  Maybe I'm biased.  Four stars.

The Landlocked Indian Ocean, L. Sprague de Camp

De Camp offers himself up as a sort of half-rate Willy Ley, explaining why, for so long, the Indian Ocean was conceived of as a big lake rather than part of the world sea.  There's a lot of good information here, but it's not quite as compellingly presented as it could be.

Three stars.

A Short and Happy Life, Joanna Russ

Here's a great little prose-poem on ingenuity involving a barometer.  Good stuff.  Four stars.

A Run of Deuces, Jack Wodhams

Aboard a superluminary cruise ship, the bored passengers come up with a betting pool to relieve their ennui: the winner of the pot is whomever guesses at what distance from their destination the ship will pop out of hyperspace.

A lot of sex.  A lot of languour.  A predictable ending.  A low three (or a high two, if you're not in a good mood).

Operation Changeling (Part 2 of 2), Poul Anderson

Last month, we were (re-)introduced to the Matuchek family: Steve the werewolf, Virginia the combat wizard, Valeria the moppet, and Svartalf the familiar.  When Valeria was kidnapped by the agents of Hell, it was only a matter of time before her parents (and their cat!) would have to penetrate the perverse underworld to retrieve her.

Enlisting the aid of a pair of dead mathematical geniuses, in this installment, the trio warps into the infernal dimension, where they must face off against hordes of demons, baffling spatial topography, and the most evil of beings humanity has ever known.

There is good Anderson, there is boring Anderson, and there is middlin' Anderson.  This story is firmly in the "good" camp, with vivid descriptions, engaging (and often funny) characters, and the sort of light, fantastic adventure we haven't seen from Anderson since Three Hearts and Three Lions.  Poul does somber, dour, very well, so I think it's more work for him to keep things light—even as our heroes are arrayed against the forces of darkness!  It's never frivolous, but there's a fey quality that keeps things on the right side of horrific.

And that episode in Hell!  I've never read the like.  My only regret is that it's not longer, with a little more time for the Matuchek squad to come up with their novel solutions so that the reader can better follow along.  Perhaps it'll get expanded into a full length book at some point.  I hope so!

Four stars for this installment and the book as a whole.

The Fateful Lightning, Isaac Asimov

A boffo piece on the discovery of electricity.  It's good, although I found the explanation of how lightning rods actually work somewhat incomplete.

Four stars.

Repeat Business, Jon Lucas

A mom-and-pop boat charter take on a quartet of "travel agents" who are obviously (to the reader, at least) a bunch of aliens.  The E-Ts are sussing out the charterers and their sailing vessel to see if they might be a hit back home on Sirius or Spica or wherever they're from.

It's not a badly written tale, but it's so obvious, and the protagonists so clueless, that it feels sub-par.  Maybe this would have passed muster a couple of decades ago.  Now it's old hat.

Two stars.

Back to Earth

And there you have it: big news in the skies and in the SFnal pages of F&SF.  There's really no unpleasant reading at all in this month's mag, even if it isn't all novel or cutting edge, and the Anderson really ends with a bang—or a flash of brimstone, perhaps.  Combined with the exciting space news, and the recent launch of Apollo 10 (article to come!) I am really feeling over the Moon.

If you read this month's issue, and watch the ongoing Apollo coverage, I'm sure you will be, too!






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

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

Goodnight, Percy

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

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


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

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


with Ryan O'Neal

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


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

Goodnight, Johnny


by Kelly Freas

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

Dragon's Teeth, by M. R. Anver


by Kelly Freas

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

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

Three stars.

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

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

Two stars.

Operation M. I., by R. Hamblen


by Leo Summers

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

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

Terrible piece.  One star.

Persistence, by Joseph P. Martino


by Kelly Freas

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

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

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

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

Two stars.

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


by Kelly Freas

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

He stared at the screen in disbelief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Initial Contact, by Perry A. Chapdelaine


by Kelly Freas

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

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


by Kelly Freas

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

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

Goodnight May

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

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

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






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

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

Impending collapse

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

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

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

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

Impending mediocrity

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


by Jack Gaughan

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

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

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

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

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

Four stars so far.

The Beast of Mouryessa, by William C. Abeel

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

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

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

London Melancholy, by M. John Harrison

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

One star.

For the Sake of Grace, by Suzette Haden Elgin

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

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

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

Four stars.

The Power of Progression, by Isaac Asimov

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

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

Three stars.

Copstate, by Ron Goulart

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

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

Two stars.

The Flower Kid Cashes In, by George Malko

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

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

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

The Body Count

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

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






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


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

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

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

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

Anyway, on to this month’s issue. 

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

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

Lead-In by The Publishers

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

The Moment of Eclipse by Brian W Aldiss

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

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

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

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

The Negotiators by Harvey Jacobs

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

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

Article: The Responsive Environment by Charles Platt

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

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

3 out of 5.

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

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

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

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

Poems by Libby Houston

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

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

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

the hurt by Marek Obtuowicz

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Book Reviews: From Alice with Malice by James Cawthorn

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

Book Reviews: Against the Juggernaut by John Clute

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

Book Reviews: The Nondescript Heroes by Charles Platt

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

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

Summing up New Worlds

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

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

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

Anyway, that’s it, until next time.





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

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

Instant Classic

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

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

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

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

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


by Vaughn Bodé

Little Blue Hawk, by Sydney J. Van Scyoc

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

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


by Reese

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

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

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

Two stars.

The Open Secrets, by Larry Eisenberg

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

Frivolous, but not terrible.  Two stars.

Star Dream, by Terry Carr and Alexei Panshin

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

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

Three stars.

Coloured Element, by William Carlson and Alice Laurance

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

Two stars.

Killerbot!, by Dean R. Koontz

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

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

Three stars.

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

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

Four stars.

A Man Spekith, by Richard Wilson


by Peñuñuri

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

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

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

The Man Inside, by Bruce McAllister

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

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

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


by Jack Gaughan

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

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

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

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

Four stars.

Back to (un)reality

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

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






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


by David Levinson

A simmering conflict

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

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

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

A map showing the location of Chenpao/Damansky Island

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

Chinese soldiers pose with their captured Russian tank

Confronting the past

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

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

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

Here’s the original art by Johnny Bruck.

Groovyland, by Robert Bloch

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

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

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

Barely three stars.

If… and When, by Lester del Rey

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

Three stars.

Mad Ship, by C.C. MacApp

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

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

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

A high three stars, falling just short of four.

Spork and the Beast, by Perry Chapdelaine

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

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

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

A low three stars.

Destroyer, by Robert Weinberg

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

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

A high three stars.

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

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

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

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

A low three stars.

Authorgraphs: An Interview with Lester del Rey

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

Three stars.

Portrait by Gaughan

Summing up

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

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






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

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

Mars ho!

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

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

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

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

Mack ho!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey But No Presto, by Jack Wodhams

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three stars.

Cultural Interference, by Walter L. Kleine

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

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

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

Two stars.

Opportunist, by Guy McCord

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

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

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

I din't like it.  Two stars.

Oh ho!

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

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

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

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