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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 2, 1965] Revolution! (December 1965 IF)

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by David Levinson

Americans have an odd relationship with revolution. They’re quite proud of their own, but extremely leery of anyone else’s. But revolution seems to be the natural order of things in the 20th century. Not all of them have been violent, nor have all of them been political. And no doubt we will see many more – political, scientific, economic, social and even sexual – before the decade, let alone the century is out.

Revolution turned upside-down

Since the end of the War, the major colonial powers of the 19th century have been gradually handing over control of their colonies to the native people. It hasn’t always been voluntary, nor has it always been smooth. But the British seem to be doing better than the others at handing over power. Most transitions have gone smoothly, though not perfectly. Until now.

Negotiations have been ongoing with Rhodesia since last year. The sticking point has been an improvement in the status of Black Rhodesians and an end to racial discrimination, insisted on by the United Kingdom. The white Rhodesian government led by Prime Minister Ian Smith is vigorously opposed the idea of equality for Blacks.

Talks broke down on October 8th over the issue of majority rule. With rumors circulating that Rhodesia will declare independence, the U. N. General Assembly voted 107-2 to call on the United Kingdom to use military force to prevent such an event. Ten days later, the Organization of African Unity passed a similar declaration. British Prime Minister Harold Wilson has gone to Rhodesia to continue negotiations, apparently without success. On the 30th, Wilson gave a press conference before returning home in which he stated that a unilateral declaration of independence would be treason, but that the United Kingdom would rely on trade sanctions and ruled out the use of military force against “kith and kin”. A peaceful resolution does not seem to be at hand.


Harold Wilson (l.) and Ian Smith (r.)

Revolutions start to finish

Americans may not like the idea of revolution in the real world, but as part of their national mythology it turns up frequently in fiction. This month’s IF is filled with revolution, both political and otherwise.


There’s no clue what this odd revolutionary slogan means. Fred Pohl promises an answer next month. Art by Morrow

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress (Part 1 of 5), by Robert A. Heinlein

In 2075, the Moon has been a penal colony for nearly a century. A prison without walls or guards, because there’s nowhere to run, and after just a few months, permanent physiological changes caused by the low gravity mean no one can go back to Earth. That means that many people living there are free men and women descended from former prisoners, but still subject to the Lunar Authority.

One such is Manuel Garcia O’Kelly-Davis. Mannie, who lost his left arm in a mining accident and has several interesting prosthetics, is a computer repairman. One of his jobs is maintaining the Lunar Authority’s central computer, a High-Optional, Logical, Multi-Evaluation Supervisor, Mark IV – a HOLMES FOUR. Somewhere along the way, so many different modules were added to the computer it gained consciousness. Only Mannie has noticed and dubbed this new “person” Mycroft, Mike for short, after Sherlock Holmes’s smarter brother. Mike is quite the joker, with a fondness for practical jokes and puns, but he’s lonely, since everyone else is too stupid to have figured out that he’s alive.

At Mike’s request, Mannie attends a political meeting where he is introduced to Wyoming Knott, a rabble-rouser from Hong Kong Luna, and runs into his old teacher, Professor Bernardo de la Paz. After Wyoh (as she prefers to be called) gives a stirring speech encouraging revolution against the Authority and the Prof agrees with her goals but pokes holes in her methods, the meeting is broken up by the Warden’s goons and turns deadly.

Mannie helps Wyoh escape and, while they’re hiding out, introduces her to Mike, who eventually creates a feminine personality called Michelle to talk to Wyoh. The next day, they meet with the Prof and have a discussion about revolution. Mannie and Wyoh exchange a knowing look when the Prof points out the importance of communications; that’s one of Mike’s bailiwicks. After the Prof expounds on the idea of revolutionary cells, Mannie suggests a few improvements and suddenly finds himself nominated to head the revolution. To be continued.


Mannie wearing his Number Three arm. Art by Morrow

All but the most rabid Heinlein fans will agree that his last few novels have been uneven at best. But this is Heinlein at his best. We have the standard Heinlein characters here: Mannie, the competent man who mostly goes along to get along until pushed to do more by circumstance; Wyoh, the strong, beautiful, brilliant woman who does the pushing (though not a love interest so far); and the Prof, the older man who loves teaching and the sound of his own voice. Mike is a bit different. He obviously has a role to play, but we need to see more.

Not much really happens in these 50 pages, but Heinlein keeps you reading, even through long discussions of Lunar marriage customs and revolutionary organization. And once again, Heinlein has slipped a minority protagonist into his work. Mannie is not only Latin as his name suggests, but he probably counts as Black, with a grandfather deported from South Africa. When he first sees her, Mannie notes that pale, blonde Wyoh is clearly first generation since the genes tend to get all mixed up pretty quickly, so most of the people we meet are probably of mixed race.

Four stars and I’m eager to see more.

Security Syndrome, by Gerald Pearce

Professor James Brown has arrived at the regional headquarters of the Society to report someone as politically unreliable: himself. Despite his double-A rating, he feels that his sensitive position and his exposure to older texts full of “unescoism” have rendered him unfit. To say more would give the whole story away.

The United States has clearly undergone a revolution prior to the time of this story. The unnamed Society merely advises the government on the political reliability of citizens, and we hear of a second Bill of Rights, which includes a guarantee of “freedom from seditious, false and heretical doctrines”. It also seems that Brown’s actions are going to trigger another revolution.

This is a good story, though not without problems. I had some difficulty keeping the various Society members straight, and the story sagged in places. Still, a solid three stars.

Toys for Debbie, by David A. Kyle

Six-year-old Debbie Curtis likes to play with toys for both girls and boys, but she does have a tendency to break them. Insurance salesman Mr. Black has offered her father some excellent terms and occasionally drops by with a present for Debbie. What could be the harm?

I often complain that an author has attempted a “Twilight Zone ending”, an ironic twist that hasn’t really been set up. Long-time fan David Kyle (who most recently appeared in these pages as an artist) has written what would be an excellent episode of The Twilight Zone. It’s easy to imagine Rod Serling popping up at the end to offer a terse epilogue. Every moment is earned, and it ends not with a twist, but a shudder. Three stars.

St. George and the Dragonmotive, by Robert F. Young

Lieutenant George St. George of the International Pastpolice has gone to sixth century England to investigate an anachronism. There he meets a few knights, including one from Camelot, hunting for a dragon which has devoured a fair maiden and several peasants, who miraculously remain “on live”. The dragon proves to be a train, resembling the Stourbridge Lion, driven by a young woman he dubs Cassiana Jones. Train-lover George must work his way into her favor to track down the source of this industrial revolution.


An unusual comic style for Gray Morrow, but the best thing about this story. Art by Morrow

Typically for Young, the protagonist is an addlepated twerp. Worse, though he falls in love with the engineer, it’s clear he’s more in love with the idea of driving a train. Worse than that, she doesn’t get a name in her own right until the very end. It’s also far too long for such a thin story. Two stars.

The Girls on USSF 193, by Stephen Goldin

Astronauts are coming back from their tours of duty in space with weakened hearts, because they won’t do the cardiac exercises prescribed by the National Space Agency. Director Jess Hawkins came up with a plan that is dubious to say the least, morally questionable and probably illegal.

You sometimes hear the phrase “sexual revolution” about changing attitudes towards sex. In the past it’s sometimes meant being open about what people are doing anyway, and sometimes it’s about real changes in sexual attitudes. This story dabbles in the latter, but is highly implausible. It hinges on a career bureaucrat making a move that puts his job on the line, a job he knows others are gunning for.

Goldin is this month’s first time author. The writing here is decent, despite the implausible plot, but the attitudes towards women are deeply questionable. Two stars.

LONCON II or Through a Monocle? Darkly, by Robert Bloch

Bloch’s report on this year’s Worldcon was allegedly written on a hotel typewriter between the end of the con and his departure for home. I believe it. This rambling nonsense reads like it was written by a man short of sleep with his brain in a different time zone. You’ll learn much more about the con from our colleague Kris Vyas-Myall’s report. One star.

Mercury, by J. M. McFadden

Mercury is an alien predator with an unusual hunting style. She is captured by an expedition and brought to an Earth zoo. There will be consequences.

The story is quite obvious and depends on some rather stupid behavior, but it’s short and not a bad read despite all that. This is McFadden’s second sale, and I’m not averse to seeing more from him. Three stars.

Retief’s War (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Laumer

Retief continues his search for Fifi. Unable to find his army, he joins forces with the remaining Terries and prepares for a last stand against the Voion hordes. Rescue arrives at the last minute in the form of the Federated Quoppina army led by Fifi, who is none other than Retief’s cousin Princess Fianna Glorian Deliciosa Hermione Arianne de Retief et du Lille. A typical Retief plan is put together to save the rest of the CDT mission, knock Ikk and his Voions out of power, quash Groaci schemes and get Retief mostly out of trouble.


Tief-Tief rides to the rescue. Art by Gaughan

What a disappointing ending. A number of things happen that make little or no sense, but happen to move plot forward. Back in the first part, I noted that there was more room for things to develop, but Laumer seems to have run out of room anyway and it all rushes to a slam-bang ending. Two stars for this part and a very low three for the novel as a whole.

Summing up

There’s lots of revolution in these pages, political, industrial and sexual. But there’s nothing revolutionary. IF is by no means mired in the past like Analog and the outward forms often acknowledge the changes happening to the genre, but the bones are still those of a decade ago or more. IF is still worth reading, and Fred Pohl has never struck me as averse to change, but he really needs to pick one of his three magazines to at least experiment with bringing them into the 1960s and beyond.


Nothing here looks terribly new either.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[October 31, 1965] Finished and Unfinished Business (November 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Spooks and SF

All Hallow's Eve is upon us, that annual moment when the barrier between the worlds of the living and the dead is at its weakest. The departed spirits of those with unfinished business return to fulfil their goals. And puckish souls, alive and passed, spread mischief.

And amidst all this, there is candy.

In this light, the November 1965 issue of Analog is the perfect companion for Halloween. There are familiar faces, a significant departed face, delicious trifles, and sad tricks.

Tricks and Treats


John Schoenherr

Down Styphon!, by H. Beam Piper

If you read H. Beam Piper's Gunpowder God this time last year, you're familiar with Calvin Morrison, a Pennsylvania cop who got whisked to an alternate world where Aryan tribes settled the Americas and the precursors to our Amerinds stayed in Asia.  Calvin encountered a feudal patchwork where the United States had been, and he quickly took advantage of his military prowess and knowledge to help break the gunpowder monopoly of the House of Styphon, becoming Lord Kalvan of the principality of Hostigo in the process.

If you haven't read Gunpowder God, you'll be rather lost reading Down Styphon!, which is a direct sequel.  After winning its first battle against its neighbors, Hostigo now finds itself about to be attacked by neighboring Nostor and a host of Styphon-funded mercenaries.  Only by developing a mobile force and the science of military cartography can Kalvan and Hostigo hope to repel the vastly superior forces of the invaders.

Down Styphon! is little more than a campaign log, chronicling the ebb and flow of the fight from the initial preparations, to the attempted Nostorian breakthrough, to their ultimate rout. It's clearly a middle third to a novel of Kalvan's story, started in Gunpowder God.  Indeed, the tale ends on a cliffhanger: it is clear that Styphon has one more trick up their sleeve and will not go down without a fight.

The problem, of course, is that readers of Analog may never get a conclusion to this tale.  Sadly, Mr. Piper took his own life last November, and Down Styphon! is touted as the author's last published story.

On the other hand, a novel of Lord Kalvan (Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen) came out recently, and it may well have the resolution to the story.  It's also possible that editor John Campbell will license the last part of the book to finish the saga in Analog.

One hopes so.  While Down Styphon! is clearly incomplete and focused primarily on a single battle, it is yet one of the best and most riveting recountings of a military campaign I've read.  There is such rich detail that I could easily see Avalon Hill making a wargame out of it.

So I give this tale four stars for what it accomplishes and in appreciation for what it could have been (and perhaps might be — fingers crossed).

Even Chance, by John Brunner


John Schoenherr

A young Kalang tribesman in the remote mountains of Java rushes to meet a party of foreign anthropologists.  He bears a shard of a crashed vehicle, one he's certain will convince the expedition to regale him with gifts, as had happened during the War when a pilot had set down his crate and had to be nursed back to health.

But the fragment is highly radioactive, and the craft it comes from is not of Earthly construction.

That's a great setup for a story, but in (the oddly titled) Even Chance, the setup is the whole story.  You know its outcome from the beginning, and the thing reads like something from the 1940s.

A high two — it's not offensive, but it could use finishing.

A Long Way to Go, by Robert Conquest


Kelly Freas

A Mr. Randall from modern day is transported 500 years into the future.  Unlike other contemporaries who had made the trip, Randall is allowed to keep his memories of the 20th Century even if it means he'll have trouble adjusting to the 26th, the better for anthropologists to study him.

At the end, however, it is decided that it is better for Randall to be acclimatized after all.  The time traveler takes the news philosophically, noting that the future seems to have solved all of today's problems. But, his future host sadly informs him, they have unique problems of their own.

Once more, we have a fine setup to a story that fails to go anywhere. Indeed, I'm not quite sure what the point of the tale was.

Another high two.

Some Preliminary Notes on FASEG, by Laurence M. Janifer and Frederick W. Kantor

Here's a cute quasi-scientific piece on the generation of fairy godmothers, done in the style of a short journal article.

Three stars.

Onward and Upward with Space Power, by J. Frank Coneybear

On the other hand, Coneybear's longwinded piece on steam power in space keenly suffers for want of an introduction, a conclusion, and subheadings.  I suppose it's better than pseudoscience, but Analog really needs a dedicated science writer like F&SF's Asimov and Galaxy's Ley.

Space Pioneer (Part 3 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


Kelly Freas

At last we come to something that does finish: Reynolds' latest serial.  When last we left Ender Castriota (who had assumed the identity of Rog Bock to join the roster of the colony ship Titov on its way to complete a blood feud against the last of the Peshkopi clan, rumored to be on the vessel), the colony of New Arizona had been attacked by natives.  As the first intelligent aliens encountered by humanity, their presence on the planet not only poses an existential threat to the new settlement, it also invalidates the colonial charter.

A war ensues, egged on by the Captain of the Titov, who, not wanting to see his lucrative opportunity fade away, insists the aliens are simple animals.  That these "animals" wield crossbows and religious totems makes no difference to him.

Curiously, the "kogs" (as the indigenes are derogatorily called) are extremely humanoid in appearance.  Stranger still, they appear to be confined to the island on which the Titov landed.  I'm sure you can guess, as I did, the true origin of the "aliens."

Space Pioneer's third part is, like Down Styphon!, primarily a chronicle of battle and, like the Piper story, a deftly executed one.  Reynolds is good at that kind of thing.  The Peshkopi feud issue is resolved, and not as I expected it to be, and there is some good development of the relationship between Castriota and Zorilla, the one member of the colonial board who seems to be a decent man.  I was disappointed that Cathy Bergman, advocate for the non-charter member colonists had a minimal role in the third segment, however.

All told, I'd give Part Three four stars, and the book as a whole three and a half.  Good stuff, but it likely won't make the nomination for this year's Galactic Stars.

Assorted Sweets

With all of its ups and downs, Analog clocks in at exactly three stars.  However, as with any Halloween grab bag, you can always skip the candy you don't like and concentrate on what you like.  There's certainly much to enjoy in this month's first and last thirds.

Analog is surpassed this month by Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.7), Science Fantasy (3.2), and New Worlds (3.1).

Campbell's magazine is better than this month's largely reprint Fantastic (2.8) and the perennially lackluster IF (2.6).

Only one story out of the 30 new pieces was written by a woman, which makes Science Fantasy the winner of this month's SF equal opportunity award without trying very hard. 

Sad as that statistic may be, there was far more worthy reading this month than usual.  One could easily fill two big magazines with nothing but 4-star stuff.

So grab yourself this month's digests, stuff them in your trick or treat bag, and have a swell spooky holiday of haunting.  I know I will!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[October 26, 1965] Mythology and Multiple Earths Science Fantasy and New Worlds, November 1965

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

It is getting to be a routine now, but the issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy..

The covers by Keith Roberts are still an acquired taste, but his art is starting to grow on me. Compared with some of his other efforts, I quite liked this one! It clearly illustrates Brian Aldiss’s lead story this month.

This month’s Editorial is for the second month by someone other than Kyril – where is Kyril, I wonder? Surely not still star-gazing? Nevertheless, it is another interesting one. Brian Stableford is an up and coming fan who has his first story published in this issue. As a fairly new “neo-fan”, it is his turn to try and define science fiction in the Editorial in the form of an open letter. It’s a good attempt, thoughtful and seemingly well-read. I expect to read more from this young man, who I believe is only about 18 years old.

To the actual stories.

The Day of the Doomed King, by Brian W. Aldiss

Serbian King Vukasan is wounded and in retreat after being defeated by the Turks. With his General he sets out for the Turkish capital city, but sees what he regards as an ominous omen – a magpie with a lizard in his mouth, which then dies. Troubled by this Vukasan detours to a monastery to seek understanding. There Vukasan gets two opposing visions. One is of a Serbian Empire, greater than ever, the other where the Turkish army triumph and effectively erase the memory of his monarchy. There is then a twist in the story, which you may find either intriguing or annoying, but for me the story ended satisfactorily.

Brian has been a continuous presence in the magazines this year, as a writer, commentator – and Dr Peristyle! One of the things I have noticed is the range of material showcased. Some his works are clearly science fiction and others much less so, some horror, some psychological study and even some comedy.

This one emphasises the Fantasy aspect of Brian’s work, and makes an interesting counterpoint to Robert Burnett Swann’s The Weirwoods, also in this issue. Like Burnett Swann’s tale, this is knowingly literate, written in a style clearly determined to evoke a sense of earlier times. Although Aldiss’s world is traditional Middle Ages fantasy (the back cover calls it a “tale of ancient Yugoslavia”), rather than something older, I was impressed by how much the tone of the story is set through its lyrical language, like Burnett Swann’s so often is.

For me King was one of Aldiss’s better efforts of late and shows the reader how good he can be. Whilst I suspect your enjoyment of the story will depend on how convinced you are by the ending, I enjoyed it very much. A strong start to the issue. 4 out of 5.

The Saga of Sid, by Ernest Hill

Ernest’s latest is one of his efforts to write lighter humorous tales. It is initially about a vicar who, whilst watching a baptism finds that the baby, about to be called Sid, speaks to him. Understandably chaos ensues, and a bell-ringer, who is also a local reporter and who also heard the baby talk, tries to kidnap him and sell him to a circus owner. Sid, realising a scam in action, acts like a typical baby until the men have gone. Having survived all of this, it becomes clear as Sid grows up that he is unusual. He talks of Asgard and other non-worldly things in such a way that his mother, believing him to be possessed, attempts to instigate an exorcism. The consequence of this is that during the exorcism a flying saucer appears to Sid, and Norse gods Odin and Frigg take back from Sid the soul of Baldur. This leaves him as a ‘normal’ child in the end.

This one is as silly as it sounds, but long-winded to boot. For those who find the thought of a child named Sid funny. Not for me. 2 out of 5.

Beyond Time’s Aegis, by Brian Craig

Although the story is published here as by “Brian Craig”, it is really written by two writers, Craig A. Mackintosh and Brian Stableford (who I mentioned before.) Having enjoyed the Editorial by Stableford, I was expecting great things from this novella. But, oh, this one starts badly, so much so that initially I thought that the first paragraph was meant to be a parody of epic space opera. No, its pompousness and pretentiousness is genuine.

To be fair, once past this ominous beginning, the tale settles down a little, although throughout I kept feeling that at any moment the story could disappear into a pool of its own portentousness.

The story begins in the style of a medieval-esque fantasy, yet we soon realise that this is some sort of post-apocalyptic world where travel between worlds is possible and there are mentions of technology beyond the imagination of most of the people there. It is about someone who calls himself “The Firefly”, who I at first thought was a satire of Asimov’s character “The Mule”, who is on a quest to find the “Man Who Walked Through Time” who The Firefly believes can transport him back in history to a time where this world was not in decline.

On his journey The Firefly meets a diverse variety of odd characters, who all seem to spout strange homilies and portents.

It has an almost Elric-esque tone to it, but is weighed down by the ominously weighty words of great meaning the characters seem to give at every opportunity. Each character is an allegory of something else, which becomes a little wearying. It also doesn’t help that towards the end one of the characters strangles a dialect so well that he could give Keith Roberts’ Granny Thompson a run for her money.

Far too long, and rather too derivative of Jack Vance’s Dying Earth stories for me, it is better by the end, but clearly a debut work, and an overworked one at that. 3 out of 5.

The Wall, by Josephine Saxton

A newcomer, but again nice to see a woman author in this male-dominated bastion of genre. And this was interesting, if odd. One of those allegory-stories about a city at the bottom of a saucer-shaped valley with a wall running through the middle bisecting the circle.

Two lovers, whose only contact initially is by touching hands through the wall, decide to escape the valley together, only to come to a sticky end. Weird yet vividly written, if bleak. 3 out of 5.

Yesterdays’ Gardens, by Johnny Byrne

Either I am starting to get more acclimatised to Johnny Byrne’s odd stories, or he is just getting better at writing them. This is another I quite liked. Uncle Ernie is told by a young girl of the man who lives in a silver cup in the garden. As the story progresses, all is not what it seems as we discover some sort of post-nuclear holocaust has happened. 3 out of 5.

The Weirwoods (Part 2 of 2), by Thomas Burnett Swann

We ended the first part on a bit of a cliff-hanger where the mythical creatures of the Weir were about to attack the human city of Sutrium to free Vel the Water Sprite and take some sort of revenge on the humans there.

This story begins with Tanaquil watched over by cats. She is freed by witch-queen Vegoia, who explains that a spell by Vel meant to use the city cats to disable the guards has actually led to a massacre in Sutrium. She takes Tanaquil to Arnth and encourages them to escape the city. Tanaquil, after finding her father dead, agrees. The slaves, now freed, have revolted and the journey is difficult. Vegoia finds a secret way through the forest for them to safety. At the lake they meet Vel again. Vegoia seduces Arinth, much to Tanaquil’s jealousy.

Vegoia then sends Arith to make love to Tanaquil, but is rejected by her, not wanting to be one of Vegoia’s cast-offs. Vel appears and attacks Tanaquil, but is killed. Tanaquil grieves. We discover that Vegoia is ill and she eventually dies. In the end, Vegoia and Arith, now a couple, leave for Rome to start a new life.

The second part of this serial is shorter than the first, and not quite as enjoyable, although there is much in this part to like. Burnett Swann’s descriptions of the Weir Ones' way of life are as poetic as ever, but I found the ending somewhat sad. Whilst the humans are happy, the death of Vel and Vegoia leave a sadness as their lives have been changed by dealing with humans. Whilst Vegoia has shared love with Arith, Vel in particular is an innocent who would have continued a happy and contented life had it not been for the interference of humans.

Nevertheless, though the second half did not quite match the set-up of the first part, it is undeniable that Burnett Swann’s story still has a lyrical magic that many others seem to lack – although Aldiss has a good stab at emulating it with his story this month. For that reason, still 4 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

A mixture of odd tales this month. I enjoyed the Aldiss story the most, although I suspect the twist at the end will make some readers groan. Whilst Thomas Burnett Swann’s serial was good, I did feel that it did not quite hold the potential that the first part suggested it would. The rest of the issue is, like last month, not really bad, but often not for me.

Onto this month’s New Worlds.

The Second Issue At Hand

This month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock starts by praising an author I’ve never heard of before in his attempt to broaden our literary knowledge. Alfred Jarry is “the father of the literary surrealist movement” and given Moorcock’s enthusiasm for such stories he is therefore effusive in his review of a recent collection. He then goes on to point out that, like issue 152, the emphasis this month is on new, young writers.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Wrecks of Time (Part 1 of 3)), by James Colvin

In his Editorial Mike Moorcock states that James Colvin’s (who is also Mike Moorcock, don’t forget) serial is “pretty straightforward stuff”, and it is, but I liked it. It’s not particularly new but I like the premise that there are fifteen alternate Earths, all in slightly different stages of development. Our hero, Professor Faustaff (clearly influenced by Shakespeare’s Falstaff) travels his way through them all with a group of varied assistants. He is in constant conflict with his nemesis Herr Steifflomeis and the nefarious D-Squad, who for reasons initially unknown seem determined to attack Faustaff’s teams and cause chaos, destroying alternate Earths by creating Unstable Matter Situations (UMSs).

This one is straight out of Doctor Who with a bit of The Avengers or even your Man from UNCLE thrown in, the sort of free-wheeling caper not too adrift from the old pulp fiction of yesteryear, but given a modern sensibility. It also helps that I liked Faustaff, who appears to me as a much more likeable version of Heinlein’s Jubal Harshaw. (I have a sneaking suspicion that this is Moorcock’s version of a Heinlein novel.) Not to be taken seriously at all, and great fun. But why write it as Colvin instead of Moorcock? I can see this one working in the same way that Moorcock’s Jeremiah Cornelius does. I’m pleased to read that it continues next month. 4 out of 5.

The Music Makers, by Langdon Jones

Time for Moorcock’s second-in-command to do some writing instead of editing. Set on a colonised Mars with ancient Martian cities straight out of Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles, the story is based around a musician who after performing the Berg Violin Concerto tries to come to terms with the importance of music. This is an ambitious tale, if limited by the fact that it is trying to describe the emotions generated by music in prose. The ending is a little overdone. 3 out of 5.

Until We Meet, by Colin Hume

A story of people who have lived for thousands of years, with an ending straight out of Brian Aldiss’s story in Science Fantasy. There are some nicely written parts, but that conclusion is grim. 2 out of 5.

Time’s Fool, by Richard Gordon

The latest story by Richard Gordon (last seen in July’s New Worlds with A Light in the Sky) is one that, like Good Night, Sweet Prince by Philip Wordley in last month’s Science Fantasy, revisits history by using a famous person. Last month it was Shakespeare; this month it is a person more infamous – the Marquis de Sade. A person perhaps best known for his perverse sexual predilections, this story gives de Sade chance to answer his accusers as he is put on trial in order to address the rather grotesque impression people have of him being one of the most evil men who has ever lived.

I liked the general idea, but felt that its purpose was more to shock than to debate de Sade’s ideas, which it does. De Sade actually comes out well from the experience. It reminded me of Moorcock’s recent story The Pleasure Garden of Felipe Sagittarius which used Hitler and Eva Braun in a similar way, as characters in the story. (Hitler even gets mentioned in this one.) This time around, prepare for “New Worlds Magazine writes positively about old pervert!” type headlines. Provocative and readable. 3 out of 5.

Night Dweller, by Terry Pratchett

A new author to me. I gather that Terry is very young – Moorcock mentions that he is sixteen in the Editorial – and if this is so, then this is an impressive story for someone his age. It is the tale of a suicide run, three men on their way to destroy an all-encompassing world eater passing through the Solar System, knowing that it will cost them their lives. Quite effective. 3 out of 5.

50% Me, At Least, by Graham Harris

After an accident, Bob Forton is restored to health to find that half of his body has been restored by artificial replacements. His outpouring of emotion at surviving is regarded as an anomaly by the doctors and nurses looking after him. An interesting one this, in that it deals with the issue of disability and makes the reader question how much of a person’s personality is based on their physical attributes rather than their other characteristics. It’s a shame I guessed the ending before-hand – the title rather gives it away. 3 out of 5.

Cultural Invasion, by Charles Platt

After his evisceration of Heinlein’s A Stranger in a Strange Land last month, Charles is back with some writing of his own this month. His last story, Lone Zone, was generally well-received, a gritty story of post-apocalyptic gangs. This time around, it’s a ‘humorous’ story of the consequences of a Russian spaceship, with cosmonauts aboard, landing by accident in Willy-in-the-Mud, a village in rural Hertfordshire. For a story so frenetic in action it is surprisingly mundane, with a weak twist in the tale. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

After a few issues of few book reviews, Moorcock promised in his Editorial that there would be more this month. And so there is – there are reviews of Fifth Planet by Fred Hoyle, (“better”, but not to James Colvin’s tastes), Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut, which I thought would be more typical of Colvin’s interests, but is given grudging praise here.

Frederik Pohl and C.M. Kornbluth’s collaboration The Space Merchants is recommended for light-reading. Theodore Sturgeon’s More Than Human is given a tremendous thumbs-up as “his best work yet.” Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth is reissued in its best translated version so far, Eric Frank Russell’s Men, Martians and Machines story collection is all “readable, well-polished jobs”, if too American in style for Colvin’s tastes.

Surprisingly, John Carnell’s collection of horror stories, Weird Shadows from Beyond was found to be better than expected – “not the usual old rubbish at all”. How much of this positivity is based on Moorcock’s appreciation of Carnell I was less certain about. Martin Caidin’s Marooned was “a bore” to read, Prodigal Sun by Philip High has little of merit other than to have a good cover. The Demons by Kenneth Bulmer is “Bulmer at his best.” Lastly, Colvin can’t resist reviewing himself as he reviews Blades of Mars by “E.P. Bradbury”, although his criticism as “harmless and unpretentious enough” is quite refreshing.

Hilary Bailey reviews the “lively, varied collection” New Writings in SF 5 edited by the aforementioned John Carnell. Continuing the standard set by Charles Platt last month it may be unsurprising to regular readers to find that Farnham’s Freehold by Robert Heinlein is ”not.. a very good book.”

But no Dr. Peristyle this month.

Alan Dodd reviews a Russian science-fiction film, Cosmonauts On Venus, which is better than it sounds, even if the best actor is a robot.

Summing up New Worlds

I said last month that I hoped this issue would be a fresh start. And so it is. Moorcock admits at the beginning of this issue that this is an issue full of promising new potential rather than well-known authors, and he has kept to his word. There were surprises in this issue for me. The Pratchett was a surprise, as too the de Sade story, even if they tread familiar territory.

Nevertheless, whilst I agree that new talent should be nurtured, my overall impression this that this is an issue that smoulders rather than sparkles. There’s a lot I liked, but none that I really loved.

 

Summing up overall

As much as I liked the Colvin serial (so much more than Harrison’s recent effort!) the two big stories of Science Fantasy from Aldiss and Burnett Swann make Science Fantasy an easy winner this month for me.

As I type this it is nearly Halloween, one of my favourite times of the year. I hope that your celebrations are glorious and everything that they can be.


Whilst the Beatles collect their MBE's, WHO's playing at the Cavern this Halloween?

Until the next…



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[October 18, 1965] Turn, Turn, Turn (November 1965 Fantasy & Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Winds of Change

History is divided into eras: The Stone Age, The Middle Ages, The Renaissance.  There are Golden Ages and Dark Ages.  The Jazz Age.  The Gilded Age.  One is never quite sure of a period's exact delineations, the precise moments of its beginning or end, until the next one is well on its way.  It is possible to tell when one is in an age, however, and also to feel keenly the wistful uncertain sense one gets in the doldrums between epochs.  Who can't have felt that way in the year succeeding President Kennedy's assassination, when his civil rights program, American involvement in Indochina, even the character of government in general hung in the balance.  And who can doubt that, for better or worse, the Johnson era has clearly begun?

I've lived through two sea changes in music.  The first was in 1954, when the overripe swing and schmaltz on the radio was overrun with a wave of rock and roll, particularly if you tuned into the Black stations (luckily, a radio tuner cannot easily be segregated).  By 1963, the winds of change had become muddled.  With folk, pop, motown, surf, and country vying for our eardrums, it was quite impossible to know then where the next two years would take us.  Then the Beatles spearheaded the biggest British invasion since 1812, and a new age was upon us.

Science fiction has its ages, too.  When I got into SF in a big way, the genre was clearly plumb in the middle of one.  It was 1954, four years after Galaxy's editor, Horace Gold, had thrown the gauntlet down at the feet of puerile pulp SF, five years after the new Fantasy and Science Fiction established a literary benchmark for the genre that has yet to be exceeded.  Science fiction primarily came in digest sized magazines, and the market was aflood with them.  Quality ranged from the penny-a-word mags which were little above the pulps that preceded them to stellar new fiction that burst beyond our solar system and ranged deep into our pysches.

As the 60s dawned, the genre had become anemic.  Almost all of the monthly digests had gone out of print.  The old stalwart, Astounding, had changed its name to Analog, but is fiction remained stolidly fixed in an older mode.  Gold retired from Galaxy and Fred Pohl struggled to keep it and its sister mags fresh as its reliable stable of authors left for greener (as in the color of money) pastures.  F&SF's helm passed on to Avram Davidson, whose whimsical style did the magazine few favors.

But the genre seems to have found its feet and is stomping off in a new direction.  Propelled by a "New Wave," again largely based in Britain, the science fiction I've been reading these days no longer feels like retreads of familiar stories.  They have the stamp of a modern era, an indisputable sense of 1960s.  And no single issue of a single magazine has represented this renaissance in SF better than the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

A Fresh Breeze


by Gray Morrow (illustrating the many perils of … And Call Me Conrad (Part 2 of 2)

Come to Venus Melancholy, by Thomas M. Disch

Disch is one of the flagbearers of the new era.  In just three years, this new author has produced more than 20 stories, some of them quite brilliant.  In this one (set on an obviously pre-Mariner Venus), a lonely cyborg staffer of a trading post literally holds you captive while she tells the sad story of how she lost her love.

By turns horrifying and heartbreaking, it's a moving piece.  Four stars.

The Peacock King, by Larry McCombs and Ted White

Less effective though more experimental is this piece on the first successful hyperdrive jaunt.  After four failures, it is determined that the transition to hyperspace bears similarities to drug-induced schizophrenia.  One couple, so in love as to practically share a consciousness, is fed a regimen of psychoactives to prepare them for the trip.

Somewhat roughly written, and perhaps too short, it is nevertheless a fascinatingly "now" story delving into new territory.

Three stars.

Insect Attractant, by Theodore L. Thomas

This usually disappointing column of sf-story ideas masquerading as short science articles starts promisingly, discussing how insect pests could be eradicated through synthesis of female sex pheromones, which could then be sprayed to disrupt their breeding cycles.  A fine alternative to DDT.

But then he goes on to suggest that human females have similar pheromones, and that distillation and application of same could be used by marriage counselors, as if love is purely a matter of chemical compatibility. Perhaps the author has never been in love, let alone gotten married.  Of course, Mr. Thomas may have meant the piece in jest, though I also resented its casually sexist overtones.  Either way, it's not worth the page it occupies.

Two stars — and let's please 86 this column, Mr. Ferman?

… And Call Me Conrad (Part 2 of 2), by Roger Zelazny

When last we left Konstantin Karaghiosis, Minister for Cultural Sites on an atomics-devastated Earth, he was giving a tour of Greece to a blue-skinned Vegan, name of Cort Vishtigo, and his human entourage.  Ostensibly, the alien was on Earth to write a travelogue.  His true purpose is unknown, but the members of the Radpol movement believe Vishtigo's trip is a real estate survey, prelude to the Vegans buying up the planet to plunder.  An assassination attempt is in the offing, and Karaghiosis (virtually immortal and currently going by the name of Conrad) believes that the alien's bodyguard, Hassan, is the likely killer. 

That's the context, but the tale Zelazny weaves reads like a modern interpretation of mythology, with Conrad's party encountering a host of radiation mutated beasts, humans, and everything in-between.  Conrad is a tale of survival, of derring do, of proving worth.  It's also a pretty good mystery with a satisfying, if a touch too pat, ending.

At first, I was leery of Zelazny's style, a first person macho that threatens to become precious.  But there's enough self-deprecatory humor to make it work, and I found the pages flying.  There's enough action to keep it moving, enough depth to keep you thinking.

Four stars for this segment, and the novel as a whole is elevated to this rank as well.

El Numero Uno, by Sasha Gilien

It used to be that Death attended to matters personally.  Now, the business has boomed, and he requires field agents armed with legal contracts instead of scythes.  This particular case involves a harried operative on the sports beat and a particularly recalcitrant matador scheduled for expiration.

Good stuff in the style of Ron Goulart.  Four stars.

Squ-u-u-ush!, by Isaac Asimov

Having previously discussed the shortest measure of time, the largest measures of dimension, the hottest heat, and the coldest cold, the Good Doctor now explores the densest densities, starting with ordinary matter and proceeding the greatest crushes in the universe: the interior of giant stars.

Cutting edge stuff, and it's the first time I learned of neutronium, a state of matter even more compressed than that found inside a white dwarf.

Four stars.

A Few Kindred Spirits, by John Christopher

Last up, the much heralded author of No Blade of Grass offers up a tale combining a queer (in both senses of the word) group of dogs, the concept of reincarnation, and the pursuit of literary laurels.  A character study cum literal shaggy dog story, it's perhaps the most conventional piece of the issue — save for the rather daring (and refreshingly uncondemned) discussion of alternate sexual preferences.

Four stars.

The Sound of Shoes Dropping

It is clear that, after a long many-tacked jaunt in trackless seas, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has set a bold new course.  I have high hopes and more than a little suspicion that this New Wave era has many more exciting years left to it.

After quite a few lean years, I'm finally getting my dessert again!




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[October 2, 1965] Gimmickry (November 1965 IF)

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by David Levinson

When I was a boy, a gimmick was either much the same thing as a gadget or the sort of device a crooked casino owner would use to make sure the roulette wheel comes up 22. These days, of course, it means an ingenious new angle or a trick to draw attention in advertising. It can also be the sort of thing that makes a story work or at least that the author hopes will make the story interesting.

America’s Pastime

Baseball is no stranger to gimmicks. From sending midgets up to bat to exploding scoreboards, owners and general managers will do anything to get fans to come out to the park. After starting the season by losing 21 of their first 26 games, the Kansas City Athletics have been mired in the cellar all season. Desperate to get people into the stands as the season winds down, owner Charlie Finley came up with a couple of gimmicks in the last month. September 8th, was Campy Camp Night and regular shortstop Bert “Campy” Campaneris played all nine positions in a single game. Up against the Los Angeles Angels (or I guess California by that time, speaking of gimmicks), Campy started at shortstop and moved from position to position each inning. In the eighth, he took the mound and even switch pitched, throwing right-handed to right-handed batters and left-handed to left-handed batters. Alas, while catching in the ninth, Campy was injured in collision at the plate and had to sit out a few games.

On the 25th, Finley invited several old player from the Negro Leagues to be present when Satchel Paige took the mound against the Boston Red Sox. At 59, he’s the oldest person ever to play in the big leagues (and at 34 Athletics’ manager Haywood Sullivan is the youngest manager). Satch sat in a rocking chair in the bullpen between innings, being served coffee by a “nurse”. He pitched three innings, giving up only one hit. He came out to the mound to start the fourth, but as planned he was removed. The lights were dimmed, and the crowd held up lighters and lit matches and sang “The Old Gray Mare” as Paige walked off.


Left: Bert Campaneris. Right: Satchel Paige, with “nurse”

Baseball also saw a couple of milestones. On September 9th, Sandy Koufax of the Los Angeles Dodgers pitched a perfect game against the Chicago Cubs. (For non-baseball fans, that means Koufax and the Dodgers did not allow a single opposing player to get on base through any means.) Pity Cubs pitcher Bob Hendley, who gave up only one hit in the game. Four days later, on the 13th, San Francisco Giants player Willie Mays became the fifth player and first Black player to hit 500 career home runs. Congratulations to both men, whose teams, at the time of writing, are still vying to see which will make it to the World Series. Good luck to both (though I’m rooting for the Dodgers).


Left: Sandy Koufax. Right: Willie Mays

Gimmicks good and bad

This month’s IF is not without its gimmicks. Let’s get to it.


In orbit around a collapsed star. Art by Morrow

Tiger Green, by Gordon R. Dickson

Exploration Team Five-Twenty-Nine has run into more than they can handle on the second planet of Star 83476. There are communication problems with the natives, the jungle is trying to digest their ship and eight of the twelve men in the team have gone violently insane. Navigator Jerry McWhin can feel a berserk rage building in him. As tempers flare among the remaining crew, Jerry locks the others in sick bay and heads for the native village in a bid to resolve the situation.


Jerry and the natives attempt to cure his madness. Their ideas of what either of those terms means may differ. Art by Adkins

Despite its flaws, this is a pretty solid story. There was probably room for some cuts in the first third or so to improve the pacing, and the need for several pages of expository dialog to explain what happened is a real weakness. All of which have cost the story a fourth star. Nevertheless, Dickson seems to have matured into a very good writer. He does still need to work on his female characters (of whom there are none in this story), but otherwise I look forward to a lot more from him. Three stars.

Time of War, by Mack Reynolds

Atomic war has devastated the Earth. Handfuls of civilians struggle to survive in the few areas where the radiation isn’t lethal. Alex remotely operates a “beetle” from a base on the Moon, hunting and killing civilians who may or may not be from the other side. The enemy, the Comics, do the same, flying their manned buzz-fighters from a super-sputnik in orbit.

A rather bleak tale. I rather wonder if the two sides really would attempt to utterly wipe out enemy civilians, eventually not caring if their victims were on the other side or not. I also question if it would be possible to remotely operate an aerial vehicle on Earth from the Moon, let alone engage in dogfights. The time delay of over a second each way ought to make that virtually impossible. In any case, the gimmick here lies solely on the nature of the Comics. It’s clear what Reynolds was trying to do, but that’s not enough for this piece. It either needs a lot more plot or a lot fewer words. A high two stars.

Masque of the Red Shift, by Fred Saberhagen

Seven years after the Battle of Stone Place, Felipe Nogara, the ruler of Esteel and arguably the most powerful man in the galaxy, has brought his flagship Nirvana outside the galaxy to examine a collapsed star (sometimes called a black hole). The body of his half-brother Johann Karlsen, the hero of Stone Place, who recently put down a rebellion on Flammland has arrived in cryogenic suspension. Most believe Karlsen the victim of a plague, but Nogara has had him frozen, because he feared his brother’s growing popularity.

Meanwhile, a second courier – carrying Janda, the leader of the rebellion, brain-damaged by his treatment since his arrest, and his sister Lucinda – is captured by a new form of Berserker. The Berserkers will use Janda’s body to sneak a killing machine aboard the Nirvana to make sure that Karlsen is dead.


”We willingly bring in the semblance of the terror outside!” Art by Gaughan

Saberhagen continues to impress. The Berserkers could easily have become a simple gimmick for stories about space battles. Instead, he uses them as a backdrop to write stories about people. Another author might also have paralleled the Poe story which inspired this much more closely. It’s quite good, though not quite enough for four stars; a very high three stars.

Retief’s War (Part 2 of 3), by Keith Laumer

We left Retief crashed in the jungle and threatened with becoming dinner. Naturally, he manages to talk his way out of that and instead begins uniting diverse tribes of Quoppina to fight the Voion. An emissary sent out to parlay with “Tief-Tief” proves to be Groaci General Hish, disguised, like Retief, as a native. Upon learning that the human women who also crashed in the jungle have been captured, Retief allows himself to be taken prisoner. It turns out the women have escaped, so he does as well and trails them through the wilderness, making new allies along the way. He finally catches up with them, but the mysterious Fifi has left to try and reach the army forming to fight the Voion. To be concluded.


Retief makes a friend. Art by Gaughan

There’s really not much to this installment, just Retief bantering with various natives and General Hish. There’s a hint of humor in his escape, but it could have been a lot funnier. A low three stars.

The Lonely Hours, by W. I. McLaughlin

George Rock is fleeing through space from a creature that lives in the dark between galaxies. He has a plan to set a psychic trap for it using the corpse of a creature composed of ion sheets. This somehow involves visions of Ahab and burning witches.

McLaughlin is this month’s new writer. Fred must be desperate for stories from unpublished writers, because this is awful. None of it makes any sense, and the protagonist is unpleasant. One star.

The Doomsday Men, by Kenneth Bulmer

Robin Carver is a member of ridforce. If his team can get to the body of someone who died violently within 3 minutes of death, he can explore that person’s memories to find out how they died. He was once an agent of the Americas, but was declared unstable when his wife abandoned him and their infant daughter. While investigating the death of a “gaiety girl”, he thinks he sees his now teenage daughter at a wild party in the victim’s memory.

Carol Bursham is a scientist working for Whitcliffe, the man who invented the process that allows the investigation of the minds of the recently dead. They are trying to come up with a way of recording those minds, so that there will be less pressure on the few people who can handle immersing themselves in someone else’s mind. She and Carver discover a plot which threatens the Shield which seals the Americas off from the threat of atomic attack and the rest of the world. A plot which reaches into the upper echelons of society.


Carver makes a disturbing discovery in the mind of a murder victim. Art by Morrow

Line by line, the writing is sound and there are some interesting pieces here, but they fit together poorly. The ending also involves both a rather abrupt shift in attitudes that isn’t earned and an implication that doesn’t make much sense. Points for having a couple of female characters who actually do things and aren’t there just to be rescued. On the other hand, the way Carol thinks about men is very clearly written by a man. Still, it’s a reasonably decent read. Three stars.

Summing Up

Another issue that just sort of meanders around, deviating for the most part only slightly from average. The real problem here is the story from the first-timer. The IF First program is a seemingly good idea, but it could very easily turn into just a gimmick if the editors start sacrificing quality just to run a story from a new author. There’ve been some good stories to come out of the policy, but so far I think the only real success has been Larry Niven. Well, while there’s life, there’s hope.




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[September 30, 1965] Big and Little Bangs (October 1965 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Big One

Billions of years ago, the entire universe was smaller than the head of a pin.  For an endless eternity, or perhaps just an instant, it remained in this state – and then it exploded outward with the force of creation, ultimately becoming all that we see today.

Until this year, this "Big Bang" theory was as yet unconfirmed.  It had stiff competition in the "Steady State" hypothesis, which postulated that the universe is indeed expanding, but because of matter being constantly created.  This was fundamental to the plot of Pohl and Williamson's recent novels set in the reefs of space at the edges of our solar system.

But last year, Arno Penzias and Robert Wilson at the Bell Telephone Laboratories in Murray Hill, New Jersey noticed an excess of radio noise in the receiver they were building, an excess that closely resembled the Cosmic Microwave Background predicted by physicists Ralph Alpherin, Robert Herman, and George Gamow.  This extremely low level but pervasive energy is what's left of the heat of the primeval explosion, reduced to microwaves by the expansion of the universe.


The Murray Hill facility where the echoes of the Big Bang were discovered

Smaller Ones

Here on Earth, it seems our planet is anxious to imitate the violence of the universe at large.  On September 28, the Taan Volcano off the coast of the Philippine island of Luzon exploded, killing hundreds of Filipinos.

And less of a bang and more of a blaaat, we've just finished ringing in the Jewish new year with the traditional blowing of a ram's horn.

The Littlest One

Meanwhile, editor John W. Campbell, Jr. seems content to not rock the boat, providing a mixed bag of diverting fare and stale garbage in the latest issue of Analog, a combination that is unlikely to knock anyone off their feet.


by John Schoenherr

Overproof, by Johnathan Blake MacKenzie

On a planet two hundred light years from home, a husband and wife pair of anthropologists come across a horrifying discovery.  The native Darotha, an amphibian race resembling across between a cat and an octopus, are eating humans.  At least, it seems that way – the Yahoos, apelike herd animals on their planet, bear a striking resemblance to homo sapiens.  Are the Darothans really mass murderers?  Or are looks deceiving?


by John Schoenherr

This is an interesting piece that Randall Garrett (under a pseudonym) has offered up.  Unusually for an Analog story, the Darothans are a well-drawn alien race and not played for inferiority – indeed, they are treated with sensitivity not only by the author but by the Terran colonists on the planet, who see them as exciting as potential partners and as an example of non-human society.  In the end, the story is essentially an inverse of Piper's Fuzzy stories, where the question is not whether the humanoid Yahoos possess the spark of humanity, but whether they don't.

It's not a perfect story.  The conclusion is pretty obvious from the beginning, it meanders and repeats a bit, but it's more subtle than what I usually see in Analog, and it kept me interested.

Three stars.

The Veteran, by Robert Conquest

Humans from the future, who have forgotten the art of war, summon someone from the past to lead them in a war against alien nasties.  Unfortunately for them, the person they've found is a devout pacifist.  But luckily, the fellow discovers the battle lust within that he needs to fulfill his role.

Rather offensive, simplistic, and for some reason, the aliens conquer our solar system in reverse order of distance from the Sun even though it's unlikely that they'd all be lined up so obligingly.

Two stars.

Snakebite!, by Alexander W. Hulett, M.D. and William Hulett

For some reason, Campbell saw fit to include this high school science project discussing the use of snake venom to produce antivenom blood serum in rodents.  As an actual article, it might have been mildly interesting, but in its current form, it's pretty pointless.

Two stars.

The Mischief Maker, by Richard Olin


by John Schoenherr

A story told in epistolary, Maker describes how a crackpot professor with a grudge stumbles across the great power of the Law of Analogy, which he uses to destroy the leaders of America through various bits of voodoo and witchcraft.  Truth be told, my eyes glazed over when the author mentioned the Hieronymous Machine, that psychic amplifier requiring no power source that editor Campbell is so enamored of.

Two stars.

Space Pioneer (Part 2 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by John Schoenherr

Last but not least, we have the continuation of Reynolds' serial that began last month.  When last we'd seen the assassin impersonating Rog Bock, shareholder in the colonial venture on New Arizona, his masquerade had been discovered by at least one other shareholder.

Part 2 begins with the colony ship Titov landing on its virgin planet destination, so closely resembling Earth as to be a near twin.  The rapaciousness of the shareholders' goal becomes clear as the 2000 colonists find they have virtually no rights, that the shareholders plan to sell the valuable resource rights to outside entities almost immediately, and that the crew of the ship largely comprise ex-military personnel to make them a ready police force to keep the settlers in line.

Unrest threatens to boil over as the colony teeters on the brink of collapse, reeling from colonist indolence and sabotage by unknown persons – but by the end of this installment, they all have bigger concerns to worry about…

Again, Pioneer has only the barest trappings of science fiction.  Nevertheless, this is one of Reynolds' more deft tales, and I'm enjoying it a lot.

Four stars for this bit.

Seismographic Data

Where does this leave us for the month?  Well, Analog clocks in at just 2.7 stars, below Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4), Science Fantasy (3.3), New Worlds (2.8), and Worlds of Tomorrow (2.8); it is just tied with the lackluster Galaxy.

It did manage to beat out the disappointing Amazing (2.6), IF (2.3), and the truly awful Gamma (1.5), however.

There were just two and a half pieces written by women (one was co-written) out of 58: 4.3%.  Surprisingly, the women-penned tales were all in the UK mags, which are usually all stag.  No women authors were included in either of the "All Star" Galaxy and F&SF issues this month, which is a real shame.  Where are Evelyn Smith and Margaret St. Clair?

Perhaps they are planning to return with a bang.  I certainly expect to herald their next stories with fireworks!

Looking for good science fiction by women?  Look no further than Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), the bestseller containing 14 of our favorite stories of the Journey era!




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[September 26, 1965] Allegory and Mythology Science Fantasy and New Worlds, October 1965

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After all the excitement about the Worldcon in London at the end of last month (I gather a good time was had by all!) we are back to normal this month.

The issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy.

The cover by Agosta Morol hearkens back to mythology, as did the cover of the September-October 1964 issue. It’s clearly deliberate as the main story then, as now, was by Thomas Burnett Swann, who is by now developing quite a reputation for revisiting ancient myths and revising them for a modern-day readership.

After last month’s Guest Editorial by Brian Aldiss, this month the Editorial this month is by Kyril’s second-in-command. It rather makes me wonder what has happened to Mr. Bonfiglioni, although the top of the editorial states that he is away in Venice, stargazing – lucky thing!

Having said that, the Editorial is not that different to normal. Mr. James Parkhill-Rathbone begins in a roundabout way by talking of architecture and design before going on to make the point that because humans have a lack of logic then future trends are nearly impossible to predict accurately. I liked it – there’s an entertaining mix of anecdotal humour and serious point-age going on.

To the actual stories.

The Weirwoods (Part 1 of 2), by Thomas Burnett Swann

And so straight in with a bang. If you have been following my writings here, you may know that I really like Burnett-Swann’s re-imaginings of ancient myths and folklore. His story The Blue Monkeys was the first issue of Science Fantasy I reviewed here way back in September 1964, and since then his material has always entertained. So, having tackled Greek myths and Persian myths, this time he is telling a tale from Etruria. It is the story of two cultures – one human, the other mythological – and the difficult relationship the two groups have with each other. At the beginning there is a reluctant trade between the Etruscan people of the city of Sutrium and the many different species of the neighbouring Weirwood, where we have Centaurs, Sprites, Nymphs, Fauns and the like.

The main characters are Lars Velcha of Spina and his daughter Tanaquil. Whilst moving to Sutrium they stop at a lake, and Lars captures a young teenage Water Sprite called Vel to make him a slave for Tanaquil. When travelling troubadour Arnth visits Sutrium and is invited to stay at their house, he decides to free Vel and return him to his people of the lake. This involves Arnth going to the lake and negotiating with Vegoia, who is the sorceress of the Weir people. They return to Sutrium and end the story on a cliffhanger to be concluded in the second part next month.

Once again Burnett Swann entices with his expressive descriptions and context. His writing clearly shows an intelligent understanding of ancient myths. In this mystical land before the Romans he manages to eloquently and lyrically describe the different cultures. The Weir folk are appropriately unearthly, whilst the humans seem to reflect both the innocence and the avarice of human nature.

Although parts do read like a fairytale, it is definitely a story for adults. Whilst Thomas’s previous stories have always had an element of sexuality to them, The Weirwoods is perhaps the most explicit yet. There’s sex and a lot of nakedness and men in loincloths which may be too frank or even shocking to some readers – most of the men-slaves and the male creatures are naked, for example, and the author spends some time giving details of this. He doesn’t hold back too much on the youthful desire the virginal Tanaquil has for Vel and Arnth, either, or indeed the relationship of Arnth and the weir woman Vegoia. There’s also explicit scenes in the entertaining stories Vel tells his audience as part of his performances. Such aspects lend a certain degree of maturity to the story that, whilst not for everyone, add depth and detail.

It is a sign of confidence that the serial fills over 70 pages of the magazine’s 130 this month. As ever, literate and entertaining without being obtuse. 4 out of 5.

Ragtime, by Pamela Adams

A new name to me, and – good heavens! – a woman writer! (Actually, I think that both magazines have tried hard to include women writers in the last couple of years, although there is a noticeable dearth generally.) The story is really a ghost story told by a woman about the disappearance of her husband one night whilst staying on a river boat. There’s some “Be warned – I should tell you about the weird goings-on…” type of comments, but it is readable, if a tad predictable. 3 out of 5.

Green Goblins Yet, by W Price

Another new name. This month’s lightest tale is one of those jokey-style shaggy dog stories set in a diner, where a mysterious stranger immediately nicknamed ‘Egghead’ comes looking for a goblin after a newspaper story of sheep being savaged in the Kinder Scout area. After asking the locals in the diner for advice, Jigsy and Spike agree to help find it – which they do. A story in that category I normally think of that starts, “You’ll never believe it, but…” Entertaining enough. 3 out of 5.

State of Mind, by E. C. Tubb

The popular return of one of the old guard, E.C.’s story is about a man who begins to suspect that his wife, who he has been married to for more than fifteen years, is not who he thought she is. Is it the sign of a mental breakdown, or something more sinister? It is well told, but a lesser tale of paranoia and perception, one that slow-burns until the violent end. One for the Twilight Zone fans, I guess. (We still haven’t seen the television series here in Britain, by the way.) 3 out of 5.

The Foreigner, by Johnny Byrne

I said last month that Johnny has produced some very strange stories in the past, with varying degrees of success for me. This is another oddity, a story told by a man meeting his seemingly-eccentric new neighbour, who insists on trying to throw himself out of his window wrapped in a mattress plugged into the mains electricity. The reason for this is typical Byrne material, but I quite liked it. 3 out of 5.

Goodnight, Sweet Prince, by Philip Wordley

Philip last appeared in the May 1965 issue of Science Fantasy with Timmy and the Angel. This time his story (quoting Hamlet, literary fans!) is of a future where people can time-travel into the past. On this particular occasion film magnate Art Kirbitz and his crew have travelled to Shakespearean England to film an original version of Hamlet. Director Harry Gorrin goes in search of the original manuscript in Shakespeare’s own writing, but finds a letter being written by the Bard that puts a very different slant on the man. The twist in the tale at the end is nothing really new, but I quite liked this one, although the modern-day patois between the financier and his modern crew, full of “beefy cats” and “gonnas”, is a little too unsubtle for my liking. However, this is the best story I’ve read from Philip. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Any issue that has Thomas Burnett Swann makes me happy – entertaining storytelling giving us a glimpse into a different world. I’m pleased that this one doesn’t let me down and I’m already looking forward to next month’s continuation. The rest of the issue is a little more variable but, in the end, rather pedestrian. Not really a bad story there, but generally too bland for me. Overall then, a rather middling issue, dominated by the raunchy Burnett Swann.

Onto this month’s New Worlds.

The Second Issue At Hand


After the Aldiss issue last month, we’re almost back to normal with this month’s arrival of New Worlds. This includes a dreadful uncredited cover.

This month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock is short and rather perfunctory. He points out that the stories this month are “closer to the imaginative fantasies of Kafka, Peake or Borges than, say, the work of Asimov or Heinlein” before then reviewing an issue of one of the semi-professional magazines and finally making the point that emotion is as important in sf as much as conceptual ideas. It feels like a mixed hodge-podge of ideas without too much thought.

To the stories!

Bill, the Galactic Hero, Part 3: E=mc2 – OR BUST, by Harry Harrison

Straight into the final part of Harry Harrison’s parodic serial, where hapless Bill finds himself in court for desertion. He is placed in prison to do hard labour for one year and then sent back to the battlefront on a reduced rank. The place Bill goes to reminded me of Harrison’s other recent novel, Deathworld, as it is a deadly planet, and the story seems much more serious at this point. He meets old friends and enemies there. The end of the story turns full circle.

I really want to like this story, and I know many that do, but despite trying I just can’t warm to it. This one seems to totally run out of steam. In addition, the creation of a character that is an “Arabic-Jewish-Irish con man” seems to be wanting to offend as many people as possible. Others however find it hilarious. 3 out of 5.

The Golden Barge, by William Barclay

The first of Moorcock’s vaunted allegorical stories. (William Barclay is actually Michael Moorcock in another of his guises.) Jephraim Tallow finds himself chasing a golden barge down a river. His boat runs aground on a sandbar. Floundering onto land, he meets Pandora, a strange woman with green eyes, who takes him home. She seduces him and he falls in love with her. However, this idyll is interrupted when a group of drunken revellers turn up. After some sort of orgy, Tallow realises that he must continue his journey on the river, but to do so means leaving Pandora. Pleading by Pandora to stay leads to a sad end.

I get that the story is really a tale of a man’s life-journey and how he must continue to travel through life, despite the distractions that come his way. At times, the story is quite lyrical, but otherwise it didn’t really do much for me. I suspect that some of the allegory is beyond me. 3 out of 5.

Heat of the Moment, by R. M. Bennett

Nuts-and-bolts salesman Chris Parker finds himself rescued out of a burning building to be abducted by Collectors of the Prime Government of the Second Planet of Rigel as a sample of the fauna of Sol Three. Despite the good intentions of the aliens, the situation doesn’t end well. A one-trick tale that seems fairly pointless. 3 out of 5.

Emancipation, by Daphne Castell

For the second time in two months we have that rare event of a story written by a woman. It is something that we should see more of in these magazines and Ms Castell takes her opportunity well. Emancipation initially reads like an old-style fantasy tale with seemingly primitive alien lizard-men keeping the seemingly less intelligent women of the tribe penned up and looked after as if they were animals.

With names like “Krug of Stok”, at first I thought that this was a parody of the Robert E Howard Conan stories, although we later discover that the Stokka are a seemingly primitive race living on the planet Stok. When Krug hears from Skag and Lopp, Lopp tells them of the technological gifts that space-faring Terrans from Sunward 3 bring to newly discovered planets. The Stokka men realise that in return for the setting-up of a space beacon and a Galactic Embassy they could gain technological power, wealth and status on their rather run-down planet. The aliens decide it would be a good idea to fete the humans, despite their cultural differences, and to show willingness re-educate some of the Stok women into the ways of the Terrans. This leads to cultural change previously unimagined by the men.

Another ‘comedy’ story, this time a comedy of manners and different cultures, based around the idea that how people see different cultures is funny. It’s really one of those old adventure stories where explorers act as missionaries to primitive tribes, but in a science fictional setting.

In the end, the story was better than I thought it was going to be – as comedy I enjoyed it more than Bill’s story, for example – but not a memorable one. 3 out of 5.

Jake in the Forest, by David Harvey

This story describes a series of lifecycles. Firstly, Jake travels through a forest, marvelling at the complex ways in which patterns and processes are present. Like in the Golden Barge, he meets a woman who feeds him and puts him to bed, after which he appears to be back in the forest in a different form. Approaching a megalith, he appears to be buried by it but instead takes another form, appears in a cavern by a lake and then the sea. Finally, he appears to be in bed in a forest cottage, gets up, washes, eats and drinks, and meets a beautiful woman. It appears that this cycle keeps him eternal.

Another allegorical story, quoting Ibsen but little more than a series of expressive set pieces. Poetic in its descriptions, but it did little for me. Seems to want to be Ballard. Despite Moorcock’s attempt in the Editorial to explain its purpose here in the issue – it is written “from a creative need to find fresh methods of telling a story and making a point” – it gives lots of description but the point is weak, not to mention unintelligible. Not for me. 2 out of 5.

… And Isles Where Good Men Lie, by Bob Shaw


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The return of Bob Shaw after a long absence from this magazine is a good thing, although at first glance this one reads like a traditional sf space opera story. Lt. Col. John Fortune is commander of a military base at United Nations Planetary Defence Unit N186. Nesster spaceship Number 1753 looks like it is due to land at his base, and the unit is put on alert. The legendary ‘Captain Johnny’ is put on display to the press as a sign that all is well, as a hero of the Nesster War.

However, despite all of the surface sheen and bluster, behind the scenes the story is less rosy. Fortune’s friend and scientific genius, Bill Geisler, is asked by Fortune to try and find the guiding spaceship and shoot it down before it lands.

More so, Fortune’s personal life is falling apart. His wife, Christine, is clearly having an affair with charismatic youngster Pavel Efimov, something they barely seem to hide. The plot edges into a soap opera melodrama, rather than a space opera.

Nevertheless, all is resolved at the end.

An odd one this, in that Bob has taken a somewhat traditional sf plot and given it some modern, if unusual touches. Fortune is overweight and yet a figurehead hero, with a domestic life that is about as far from the American ideal as you’d expect. I liked the fact that it was set in Iceland, again somewhere different from the typical US missile base. There’s also some debate about what to do with the aliens, once seen as a threat and now possibly something more. On the downside though, at times the story can come across as a tale of macho-posturing which at times veers into near- hysteria. It’s good to see Bob back, but this is not one of his best. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews and Dr Peristyle

In the review section, amusingly titled Self-Conscious Sex, only one book is reviewed this month. Charles Platt reviews Robert A Heinlein’s A Stranger in a Strange Land as “a remarkably dull book”, where “Stylistically, cloying American cliché and banter merge with a coyness…inconsistent with the self-consciously bold aim to be frank about sex…” Clearly not a fan.

In happier news, “Dr. Peristyle” (aka Brian Aldiss) is back. This month he holds forth on topics as wide-ranging as religion, the function of sf as ‘literature’, the importance of scientific accuracy and whether publishers are producing quantity rather than quality. It continues to make me laugh.

Summing up New Worlds

An issue with lofty ambitions but for me surprisingly mundane. The allegorical tone of some of the material is a worthy attempt to be different, but left me unimpressed. And whilst many readers will be sad to see Bill the Galactic Hero go, (see the ratings for the first part in issue 153 below), I won’t. Here’s to a fresh restart next issue.

Summing up overall

Although neither issue is an outstanding one, as you might gather, it is pretty clear which issue I enjoyed most this month. I appreciate what Moorcock is trying to do in New Worlds, but for me the more memorable read is Science Fantasy by far.

Until the next…



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Magazine, Serial

[September 20, 1965] Unfinished Business (October Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Leaving things hanging

There's something compelling about things left incomplete – from Schubert's Unfinished Symphony to President Kennedy's first term.  In the gaps of what could have been, we can fill in countless possibilities rather than just the one.

This month's Fantasy and Science Fiction (like this month's Galaxy, an "All-Star" anniverary issue) trades almost exclusively in incompletes, its pieces ending in ellipses dots rather than hard stops.

Does this make for an effective magazine?  Let's dig in and find out:

Beginnings…


by Chesley Bonestell

… And Call Me Conrad (Part 1 of 2), by Roger Zelazny

Hundreds of years from now, a war-ravaged, radiation-scoured Earth is little more than a colony of the blue-skinned Vegans who lease our planet out of historical curiosity.  Humanity is much reduced, confined to the former backwaters of civilization. 

Against this backdrop, we are introduced to Conrad Nomikos, head of the world's antiquities preservation bureau, who is tapped to escort a Vegan journalist as the alien gathers information for a travelogue of blasted Earth.

But there is far more to Conrad than he likes to let on.  Something of a rogue, and possessed of pretenatural strength, skills, and psychic abilities, he is actually Konstantin Karaghiosis – mutated into a Methusaleh by radiation and erstwhile leader of a radical anti-Vegan colonial movement that had, decades before, spiked Vegan ambitions to take all of Earth.

Now Conrad finds himself embroiled in multiple intertwined plots as the Vegan journalist becomes the target of an assassination attempt, his mission to Earth having a more significant goal than just a John Gunther volume.  Conrad, too, is personally imperiled, though who wants him dead and why are open questions.

This first part of a serial leaves off just as the second attempt on Conrad's life (if such they were; he cannot be certain) has failed.  It looks as if Conrad may well have to resume the revolutionary mantle of Konstantin to navigate the crisis.

Zelazny can sometimes be a tough pill for me to swallow.  One of the Journey's regular readers observed that he's done more than any current SF writer to bring Hemingway to our genre, and I feel that Roger sometimes trades readability for that stylistic choice.  That said, after a somewhat plodding beginning, the fleshed out background and advanced storyline becomes quite compelling.

Call it three stars for now, but with potential for the ending (if and when it come) to raise things retrospectively.

Mirror, Mirror, by Avram Davidson

Milquetoasty fan of A. Merritt spends his spare hours scouring local second-hand shops for jade mirrors with which to escape our reality into something more fantastical and swashbuckling.  What he doesn't count on is someone from another reality with a similar passion finding their way to his world.

As a premise, it's a fantastic mirror to works like The Incomplete Enchanter.  As a vignette, however, it suffers for an overlong beginning (relative to the length of the piece) and the lack of a real resolution.  In this case, unfinished means unsatisfying.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

(here's a rather pointless doodle by Mr. Wilson, one that doesn't even pertain to our genre; the reason for its inclusion escapes me)

The Future, Its Promoters and False Prophets by E. Brandis and V. Dmitrevskiy, and
Replies by Poul Anderson and Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury and Mack Reynolds

Here's an interesting piece: a critique of American science fiction by two Soviets followed by replies by the authors specifically mentioned (including reference to Asimov's foreword to More Soviet Science Fiction).  It makes for a fascinating debate, one that is clearly ongoing.  I hope F&SF continues to cover it.

Five stars.

No Jokes on Mars, by James Blish

A journalist is sent to the Red Planet to check up on a colleague whose work has become perfunctory and cynical.  While on a tour of the Martian wilderness, her escorts poach a pomander from the pouch of a native dune-cat; the aromatic ball is of high value on Earth as a perfumed ornament, but its heist dooms the Martian creatures (who prove to be sentient) to a slow death.  Can she make it off Mars with the story?

It's a good story, but it suffers both for its 1950s depiction of Mars and the extremely sudden ending, which I ended up reading several times, wondering if I'd missed a paragraph or two somewhere.  Here, the unfinished nature left me wanting rather than dreaming.

Three stars.

The Glorious Fourth, by Jack Sharkey

Three astronauts from Earth land on an Eden teeming with an ecology so vigorous that its creatures refuse to die.  One of the crew, despairing of service under the martinet captain, goes native – literally.  And while the process is pleasant for him, the interaction between the remaining two and the planet's life forms is ultimately less enjoyable.

Jack Sharkey's byline is one I'm normally wary of, but he delivers a decent story here, and the vague ending, only hinting at the horrors the two spacemen will face (and the reason for their unpleasantness), is effective.

Three stars.

Minutes of A Meeting At The Mitre, by Robert F. Young

Old Nick meets Samuel Johnson.  With a punchline telegraphed from the beginning, the only motivation for this piece seems to be Young's desire to do a Boswell pastiche. 

Well, the story may have finished, but it's clear that the hoary "Deal with the Devil" subgenre of fantasy is not.

Two stars.

The Land of Mu, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor picks up where he left in his elementary physical particles, this time discussing the differences between electrons and mu mesons (muons).  It's an absolutely fascinating piece, and it's very clear from its conclusion that there is still so very much we don't know about the universe's tiniest components.

Five stars.

Something Else, by Robert J. Tilley

A punctilious, nature-hating music professor crashlands on a deserted planet with only a clarinet and box of jazz music spools to keep him company.  Well, not quite deserted: there is also a solitary shaggy alien with the ability to mimic music perfectly.  Thus begins an interspecies friendship.

Perhaps intentionally, the ultimate story in this collection does have a definite ending, which is sadly to its detriment.  Rather than building to some kind of revelatory peak offering some sort of interesting insight on the human condition, there is, instead, a pointless downer of a conclusion, better suited to a lesser episode of The Twilight Zone.  Tilley, the piece's author, is also about 20% more wordy than he needs to be.

Three stars.

Endings?

I would say that this month's reliance on the unfinished story had mixed results.  However, at the very least, I am now looking forward to the conclusion of the Zelazny piece; at most, I find my thoughts returning to the other uncertain endings, imagining the myriad outcomes that might have better resolved these otherwise unsettled lines.

Art reflects reality indeed!

Our next Journey Show: At the Movies, is going to be a blast!

DON'T MISS IT!




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[September 16, 1965] Blessed Are The Peacemakers (November 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Ain't Gonna Study War No More

As my esteemed colleague David Levinson recently noted, war is currently raging, as it so often does, in various places around the globe. Fortunately, voices are beginning to be raised against this lamentably common human evil.


Benjamin Spock, the famous baby doctor, leads a group of folks protesting the conflict in Vietnam on a march to the United Nations in April of this year.

Whether these peace-loving people will have any effect on the escalating presence of American forces in Southeast Asia remains to be seen. Meanwhile, we can turn to the pages of the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow for a fictional look at an unusual way to change war into peace.

They Shall Beat Their Swords Into Plowshares


The cover reproduces, in shrunken and edited form, various illustrations from the pen of Virgil Finlay, subject of an article within the magazine. I recognize the one in the middle, showing the face of a ape-man, as coming from the January 1965 issue. Maybe some of you clever readers can tell me the sources of the others.

Project Plowshare (Part One of Two), by Philip K. Dick


Illustrations by Gray Morrow. I don't know if that artist also came up with the rather eccentric, pseudo-archaic introductory paragraph shown here. Maybe it's the work of the author, or possibly editor Frederik Pohl. In any case, it's very odd, not really in keeping with the mood of the novel.

The time is the early twenty-first century. There are references to space travel within the solar system, but that's way in the background. We have the usual flying cars and such that we're used to in tales of the fairly near future.


Like I said, flying cars. Also, people wear capes and funny-looking hats.

Our main character — I can't really call him the hero — is one Lars Powderdry. I assume his peculiar name is an allusion to the phrase keep your powder dry, attributed to Oliver Cromwell. The intent must be ironic, as Lars does the exact opposite of getting ready for battle (the literal meaning) and is not otherwise prepared for future events (the metaphoric meaning.)

That requires some explanation. You see, Lars has a most peculiar job. He's a weapons fashion designer. This is even weirder than it sounds. It involves going into a trance, with the aid of mind-altering drugs, in order to enhance his natural psychic abilities. While in this state, he perceives images of complex designs for very strange weapons. These are passed along to military folks, who in turn give them to manufacturers.

Why, then, do I say that Lars is not keeping his powder dry? That's because the so-called weapons are nothing of the kind. The elites make the ordinary folks think they are, but in reality the designs are used to make unusual consumer products, generally of a trivial, frivolous nature.


Here's an example, taken from a sidebar in the magazine. Again, I don't know if this is the work of the author or the editor.

In order to fool the public, the manufacturers produce faked films showing the phony weapons in action. This situation came about because of a secret agreement between the two sides in the Cold War. The ignorant masses believe their governments are ready to attack the other side, while their rulers avoid the possibility of a real, destructive war.


An example of the deception in action. The zombie-like guys, supposedly criminals subjected to the mind-destroying guns shown here, are really robots.

Lars has a counterpart on the other side, a woman named Lilo Topchev. Although he doesn't know anything about her, having only seen a photograph so blurry that it doesn't reveal anything at all, he feels an unexplained attraction to her. (The author doesn't say, but maybe this has something to do with their extrasensory powers.)

There's another woman in his life as well. Maren Faine runs the Paris office of his weapons fashion house. She's also his mistress. They annoy each other much of the time, but there seems to be genuine affection between the two. Their relationship has a touch of sadomasochism to it. Maren enjoys mocking her lover, who is well aware that he's not as smart as she is.


Maren Faine. The artist nicely captures her personality. Intelligent, capable, self-assured, cynical, and maybe a little bit cruel.

While visiting her in Paris, Lars finds a device made from one of the ersatz weapons he dreams up in his trance states. The gizmo is a sphere that answers questions. For most people, it's just a toy, sort of like a super-fancy version of those Magic 8 Ball things most of us have fooled around with.


Did I have one of these things? Reply hazy, try again later.

Lars treats the sphere more seriously, asking it about himself. He gets some uncomfortable answers, discovering that his reservations about the way he's helping the elite deceive the public aren't really a matter of ethics, but due to his own fears of losing his psychic powers.


Lars and the mechanical oracle.

As if that were not enough of a painful look into his soul, Maren is a bit psychic herself, able to detect her lover's subconscious emotions. She knows about his obsession with Lilo, for example, explaining it in Freudian terms.

Things get complicated when satellites appear in orbit, not launched by either side. Robots sent to investigate the objects are destroyed. The assumption is that they are the work of hostile aliens. Faced with the possibility of an attack by extraterrestrials, the elite bring Lars and Lilo together in Iceland. Their mission is clear. Work together, using their psychic abilities to come up with a design for a real weapon, or face the consequences.


An agent for the other side shows Lars what the consequences will be.

There's lots of other stuff I haven't mentioned. In particular, an important subplot involves an unpleasant fellow named Surley G. Febbs, who is drafted to become one of the six average citizens who work with the military, dealing with the designs envisioned by Lars. It's not yet clear what part he'll play in the plot, but I suspect it will be a vital one.

Although not a comedy, there's a strong satiric edge to this novel. Both sides in the bloodless Cold War engage the services of the same private espionage agency, which gives them just enough information to keep them paying for more.

The many characters are complex and varied, with flaws and quirks that make them seem real. (A notable exception: There's one minor character whose only function seems to be to have the author describe her breasts.) I'm definitely interested enough to wonder what's going to happen two months from now.

Four stars.

Me, Myself, and Us, by Michael Girdansky

This nonfiction article deals with the connections between the two halves of the brain, and what happens when they are cut. The author goes on to describe a highly speculative way in which to give someone two separate personalities in one body, making reference to the well-known story Beyond Bedlam by Wyman Guin. The suggestion is that such a person would be the perfect spy.


Cover art by Emsh.

Although there's some interesting information here, I found it distressing to read. Not only is the suggested creation of a human being with two minds disturbing, but the author describes real surgical experiments on animals that are horrifying. Maybe that's only my squeamishness, but I wish he had just talked about those unfortunate people who have had the link between the hemispheres of their brains severed.

Two stars.

Last of a Noble Breed, by Mack Reynolds


Illustrations by Normal Nodel.

We begin in the city of Estoril, Portugal, a luxurious resort community. A couple married for only six months is there for business as well as pleasure. The husband, a nuclear engineer, is trying to win a position by meeting with various members of the European upper class.

In this future world, being an aristocrat is vital to one's success. Annoyed by the snobs and a little drunk, the man half-jokingly announces that his wife's grandmother was the hereditary Sachem of the Cherokees, which is true enough. This leads to a worldwide movement to have the United States government restore tribal lands to her people, even though the woman is only one-quarter Cherokee, at most. (Her grandmother, whom she met exactly once, might not have been one hundred percent Cherokee.)


Uncle Sam faces a problem. I'm not sure what that sign is supposed to say. Unfair to what? Queens? That doesn't make sense, as a Sachem is not at all a monarch.

This isn't the most plausible premise in the world, even for a comedy. There are some enjoyable bits of satire, and the author provides some accurate information about the Cherokee people, as far as I can tell. But the lighthearted mood doesn't match well with the truly tragic history of the Cherokees. The husband has a habit of calling his wife a squaw, which annoys me as much as it does her.

Two stars.

The Sightseers, by Thomas M. Disch

Rich people have themselves placed in suspended animation for thousands of years at a time, emerging to enjoy a lavish lifestyle for a while, then jumping back inside their time capsule. Oddly, things never seem to change. These time tourists stick to the fabulous hotels and restaurants that cater to them, which remain unaltered over millennia.

The only other people they encounter are the Nubians who serve their every whim. The suspension device breaks down, and a couple of the tourists, more curious than their much older consorts, investigate the world outside their sumptuous lodgings.

You'll probably predict the true nature of the Nubians, and why vast amounts of time appear to have no effect on the world. Although there are no surprises, the story is decently written. Disch has a knack for this kind of sardonic tale.

Three stars.

Virgil Finlay, Dean of Science Fiction Artists, by Sam Moskowitz

Here's a detailed biography and account of the career of a great talent. I don't know where the author dug up all of this information, but you'll learn a heck of a lot about the artist's life and work. There's only one problem.

No illustrations!

I know there are probably legal and budgetary reasons why this article doesn't include any examples of Finlay's drawings, but it's really frustrating to read about his artwork and not see it. In particular, Finlay's illustration for Robert Bloch's story The Faceless Gods, from the May 1936 issue of Weird Tales, is talked about quite a bit. We're told that readers were excited by it, and that H. P Lovecraft even wrote a poem about it. At least we get half of the poem, but we have no clue what the illustration looked like.

To save you from the same agony I underwent, I dug deep into piles of moldering old pulps and pulled out the drawing, as well as the complete poem. You're welcome.

Two stars.

Worldmaster, by Keith Laumer


Illustrations by John Giunta.

The narrator is the sole survivor of a huge space battle. Both sides were completely destroyed. It turns out that this was deliberate on the part of the admiral who directed his side of the battle. He held back his gigantic flagship, which would have won a victory without the loss of the other vessels in his fleet.

His plan is to return to Earth in command of the only remaining warship, and thus take control of the planet. (Apparently this takes place at a time when the Cold War has heated up, but only in space. We're told that planetary forces are of little importance.)


And there are flying cars.

He offers the narrator the opportunity to join him, but our hero refuses. A couple of goons try to kill him, but he overpowers them and manages to get back to Earth through trickery. What follows is a series of chases and fight scenes, as the narrator tries to stop the admiral's fiendish plan.


And there's a big fire.

Typical for the author in his action/adventure mode, this story moves at a breakneck pace, and features a protagonist who overcomes all obstacles with wits, fists, and not a little luck. It's an efficient example of that sort of thing.

Three stars.

Mother, Is the Battle Over?

We started off with peace disguised as war, and wound up with the aftermath of war. Was it worth fighting for? Well, Philip K. Dick's novel-in-progress definitely piques my interest, although I suspect it will not appeal to all tastes. The rest of the issue is something of a disappointment, like a hasty retreat after an inconclusive skirmish. At least the only casualties of the conflicts inside these pages are imaginary ones. There are far too many in the real world. I wish you all peace.


The design scrawled on this guitar case, spotted on the campus of the University of California at Berkeley this year, was created by British pacifist Gerald Holtom, as a symbol for the nuclear disarmament movement. It has since shown up a lot of places, as a sign for peace in general. I like it.




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Magazine, Serial

[September 14, 1965] The Face is Familiar (October 1965 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

In all the old familiar places…

All summer long, the Traveler family's television tradition has included the game show, Password.  Though it may seem odd that such a program should rival in importance to us such stand-outs as Secret Agent and Burke's Law, if you read my recent round-up of the excellent TV of the 64-65 season, you'll understand why we like the show.

Sadly, the September 9 episode marked the beginning of a hiatus and, perhaps, an outright cancellation of the show.  No more primetime Password, nor the daily afternoon editions either.  Whither host extraordinaire Allen Ludden?

Apparently, What's my Line!  Both Ludden and his wife, Betty White, were the mystery guests last week; I guess they had the free time.  They were absolutely charming together, and it's clear they are still very much in love two years into their marriage.

Speaking of anniversaries, Galaxy, one of the genre's most esteemed monthly digests, is celebrating its 15th.  To mark the occasion, editor Fred Pohl has assembled a table of contents contributed by some of the magazine's biggest names (though I note with sadness that neither Evelyn Smith nor Katherine MacLean are represented among them).  These "all-star" issues (as Fantasy and Science Fiction calls them) often fail to impress as much as ones larded with newer writers, but one never knows until one reads, does one?

So, without further ado, let's get stuck in and see how Galaxy is doing, fifteen years on:

The issue at hand


by John Pederson, Jr.

The Age of the Pussyfoot (Part 1 of 3), by Frederik Pohl

The editor of Galaxy has a penchant for providing a great deal of his own material to his magazines.  Normally, I'd be worried about this.  It could be a sign of an editor taking advantage of position to guarantee sale of work that might not cut the mustard.  And even if the work is worthy, there is the real danger of overcommitment when one takes on the double role of boss and employee.

That said, some editors just find creation too fun to give up (yours truly included) and in the case of Pohl, he usually turns in a good tale, as he has for decades, so I won't begrudge him the practice.

Indeed, Pussyfoot is a welcome addition to the mag.  A variation on the classic The Sleeper Awakes theme, in this case, the time traveling is done via the rather new technology of cryogenics.  Indeed, protagonist Charles Forester, 37-year old erstwhile fireman, is one of the very first corpses to be frozen circa 1969, and wakes up in the overcrowded but utopian world of 2527 A.D.


by Wallace Wood

Feeling immortal (with some justification – no one really dies anymore; they just get put on ice until they can be brought back, often within minutes) and also wealthy (but $250,000 doesn't stretch as far as it used to) Forester takes a while to really come to grips with his new situation, always just a touch too clueless for his own good, and perhaps plausibility.

Very quickly, he learns that things are not perfect in the future: being immortal means one can be murdered on a lark and the culprits go unpunished.  Inflation has rendered Forester's fortune valueless.  He must get a job, any job.  But the one he finds that will employ an unskilled applicant turns out to be the one no one wants: personal assistant to a disgusting alien!

There's some really good worldbuilding stuff in this story, particularly the little rod-shaped "joymakers" everyone carries that are telephone, computer terminal, personal assistant, drug dispenser, and more.  I also liked the inclusion of inflation, which is usually neglected in stories of the future.  It all reads a bit like a Sheckley story writ long, something Sheckley's always had trouble with.  It's not perfect, but it is fun and just serious enough to avoid being farce.

Four stars for now,

Inside Man, by H. L. Gold

The first editor of Galaxy started out as a writer, but even though he turned over the helm of his magazine four years ago (officially – it was probably earlier), he hasn't published in a long time, so it's exciting to see his byline again.  Inside Man is a nice, if nor particularly momentous, story about a fellow with a telepathy for machines.  And since machines are usually in some state of disrepair, it's not a very pleasant gift.

Three stars.

The Machines, Beyond Shylock, by Ray Bradbury

Judith Merril sums up Bradbury beautifully in this month's F&SF, describing him as the avatar of science fiction to the lay population, but deemed a mixed bag by the genre community.  His short poem, about how the human spirit will always have something robots do not, is typically oversentimental and not a little opaque.  And it's not just the font Pohl used.

Two stars.

Fifteen Years of Galaxy — Thirteen Years of F.Y.I., by Willy Ley

The science columns of Willy Ley comprised one of main draws for Galaxy back when I first got my subscription.  In this article, Ley goes over the various topics of moment he's covered over the last decade and a half, providing updates where appropriate.  It's a neat little tour of his tenure with the magazine.

Four stars.

A Better Mousehole, by Edgar Pangborn

Pangborn, like Bradbury, is another of the genre's sentimentalists.  When he does it well, he does it better than anyone.  This weird story, told in hard-to-read first person, said protagonist being a bartender who finds alien, thought-controlling blue bugs in his shop, is a slog.

Two stars.

Three to a Given Star, by Cordwainer Smith

Oh frabjous day!  A new Instrumentality story!  This one tells the tale of three unique humans sent off to pacify the gabbling, cackling cannibals of Linschoten XV: "Folly", once a beautiful woman and now a 11-meter spaceship; "SAMM" a quarter-mile long bronze statue possessing a frightening armory; and "Finsternis", a giant cube as dark as night, and with the ability to extinguish suns.


by Gray Morrow

Guest appearances are made by Casher O' Neill and Lady Ceralta, two of humanity's most powerful telepaths whom we met in previous stories.

I've made no secret of my admiration for the Instrumentality stories, which together create a sweeping and beautiful epic of humanity's far future.  Three has a bit of a perfunctory character, somehow, and thus misses being a classic.

Still, even feeble Smith earns three stars.

Small Deer, by Clifford D. Simak

In Deer, a fellow makes a time machine, goes back to see the death of the dinosaurs, and discovers that aliens were rounding them up for meat… and that they might come back again now that humanity has teemed over the Earth.

A throwback of a story and definitely not up to Simak's standard.  A high two (or a low three if you're feeling generous and/or missed the last thirty years of science fiction).

The Good New Days, by Fritz Leiber

On an overcrowded Earth, steady work is a thing of the past.  Folks get multiple part time gigs to fill the time, including frivolous occupations like smiling at people on the way to work.  Satirical but overindulgent, I had trouble getting through it.  Two stars.

Founding Father, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A was lured back into the world of fiction after an eight-year almost complete hiatus; apparently he can be cajoled into almost anything.  In Father, based on this month's cover, five marooned space travelers try to cleanse a planet of its poisonous ammonia content before their dwindling oxygen supplies run out.

It's a fair story, but I had real issues with the blitheness with which the astronauts plan to destroy an entire ecosystem that requires ammonia to survive.  In the end, when terrestrial plants manage to take root on the planet, spelling doom for the native life, it's heralded as a victory.

Two stars.

Shall We Have a Little Talk?, by Robert Sheckley


by Jack Gaughan

Bob Sheckley was a Galaxy staple (under his own name and several pseudonyms) for most of the 1950s.  His short stories are posssibly the best of anyone's, but he eschewed them for novels that just didn't have the same brilliance.

Well, he's back, and his first short story in Galaxy in ages is simply marvelous.  It involves a representative of a rapacious Terra who travels to a distant world to establish relations, said contact a prelude to its ultimate subjugation.  But first, he has to establish meaningful communications.

Fiercely satirical and hysterical to boot, Talk is Sheckley in full form.

Mun, er, five stars.

Summing up

In the end, this all-star issue was, as usual, something of a mixed bag.  Still, there's enough gold here to show that the river Gold established is still well worth panning.  Here's to another fifteen years!

[Journey Press now has three excellent titles for your reading pleasure! Why not pick up a copy or three? Not only will you enjoy them all — you'll be helping out the Journey!]




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