Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 16, 1965] Crime and Punishment (January 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Breaking The Law On Stage

An incident in the United Kingdom earlier this month caught my attention and made me think about the limitations on artistic expression. The play Saved by Edward Bond had its premiere on November 3rd at the Royal Court Theatre in London. What does this have to do with violations of the law? Well, that requires a bit of explanation, particularly for those of us on this side of the Atlantic.

You see, ever since 1843, all plays produced for the public in England have to be licensed by the Lord Chamberlain. (Please don't ask me to explain what a Lord Chamberlain might be. That's far beyond my feeble American mind.)

The current Lord Chamberlain refused to grant a license to Saved unless it were severely censored. The folks at the Royal Court Theatre put it on anyway, trying to get around the letter of the law by calling it a private performance. From what I hear, they're going to get in trouble with the authorities anyway.


A scene from the play, in which a baby is stoned to death. You can see why this might be considered controversial.

Justice Between The Pages

Fittingly, many of the stories, and even a nonfiction article, in the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow deal with criminals and crimefighters, in literal or in metaphorical ways.


Cover art by Mclane. Once again, the only thing I can find out about this artist is a last name.

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


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

It takes a while for the crime aspect of this novel to show up. Meanwhile, let's recap a bit.

In the future, the Cold War has evolved into a purely symbolic struggle. Each side has a psychic who uses drugs to perceive visions of designs for weapons. The trick is that these things are really used to manufacture odd consumer items. The ruling government, capitalist or communist, fools the public into thinking it's winning the arms race. When threatening alien spacecraft show up, the two powers bring the psychics together, hoping that they will be able to come up with a real weapon.


The invaders, who never directly appear in the story.

Things get pretty darn complicated in the second half of the novel. We find out quickly that the weapon designs perceived by the psychics come from a trashy comic book, which doesn't offer much hope for victory against the aliens. They're a serious menace, as we learn when entire cities disappear behind obscuring mists. Meanwhile, romance blooms between the two psychics, leading to a classic example of the Eternal Triangle.


Jealousy rears its green-eyed head.

Add in androids and time travel, and you've got a convoluted plot that leaves the reader dizzy. Oh, and the criminal subplot I hinted at above? That comes in the form of a nasty fellow who, for his own petty reasons, plots to assassinate members of the government who rejected him. He even kills folks who were foolish enough to join his conspiracy.


A man and his gun.

The author tosses everything but the kitchen sink into this yarn. At times, I thought he was making fun of science fiction, given the large number of mixed-up SF elements. There's definitely a touch of satire here and there, but it's not a comic novel. Some parts, in fact, are tragic. It definitely held my interest throughout, even if the climax seems to be thrown together hastily.

Four stars.

The Sleuth in Science Fiction, by Sam Moskowitz

The indefatigable historian of fantastic fiction traces the development of detective stories in the field. Starting with a nod to Edgar Allan Poe, he delves into the dusty pages of very early pulp magazines. Much of the stuff he digs up has to do with lie detection technology. This article takes the reader up to about 1930, and a sequel is promised.

Moskowitz certainly has an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject. I can admire his scholarship, but the resulting essay makes for very dry reading.

Two stars.

Sunk Without Trace, by Fritz Leiber

The weird creatures on the cover of the magazine appear in this story. One of them has a dream about an object that landed on their world, while his more practical wife insists that he get back to processing the seaweed that serves as their food. It's clear from the start that the thing is a spacecraft from Earth — the editor's blurb gives it away, too — but the rest of the plot may be a bit more surprising.

There's not much to this work other than the premise and the setting, but those are intriguing enough to make it worth a look. Of course, Leiber is incapable of writing a bad sentence, so the style adds a lot. Overall, it's a decent effort from an author who often does much better.

Three stars.

At Journey's End, by J. T. McIntosh


Illustrations by Dan Adkins.

We jump right into a confrontation between criminals and law enforcement, in a particularly crude form, near the beginning of this story of a starship on its way to a new home for humanity.

After decades of travel, it seems that tensions among the crew have reached the boiling point. A couple of murders result, and the captain acts as judge, jury, and executioner, killing those guilty on the spot. Without giving too much away, let's just say that justice is truly blind here, playing no favorites at all.

After this grim opening, we watch the ship approach the planet. They have a big surprise waiting for them when they arrive. It all leads up to a darkly ironic ending.


Our three protagonists, awaiting their fate.

At first glance, I thought the first part didn't have much to do with the resolution. After musing over it for a while, however, I realize that the author intended the two scenes to provide a sort of thematic contrast. Some of what happens may be predictable. Taken as a whole, this is a serviceable, if undistinguished, story.

Three stars.

Stars, Won't You Hide Me?, by Ben Bova

In this case, the criminal is the human race as a whole, and the punishment comes from aliens determined to wipe out the entire species. When the story begins, in fact, there is only one human being left alive, alone in his automated spaceship, wandering through the cosmos in an attempt to escape judgment.

During his eons-long journey, which leads him across gigantic distances in space, he learns of humanity's crime and discovers what became of Earth. The climax leads to a final scene of almost unimaginable immensity.

The most notable thing about this story is the vastness of the author's vision. I don't think I've read anything that covers such enormous amounts of time, except maybe the works of Olaf Stapledon. In addition to that, there's a great deal of emotional appeal. If you think Bova is just a decent science writer, you may be surprised.

Five stars.

How To Understand Aliens, by Robert M. W. Dixon

Let's get away from criminology for a while and talk about linguistics. The author imagines the difficulty of communicating with the inhabitants of other worlds. As examples, he creates beings who spend most of their time burrowing underground, as well as aliens who fly. The point seems to be that culture has an important effect on language, and it's not just a matter of translating things word-for-word.

Dixon seems to know his stuff, as evidenced by his discussion of human languages unfamiliar to most speakers of English. The fictional aliens make the article more readable than just a dry discussion of the topic.

Three stars.

Buggaratz, by John Jakes

The military has its own system of justice, dealing with such crimes as lack of discipline. That's a problem for the commander of a small outfit on another planet. The only function of the unit is to produce inflatable uniforms as toys. Given this dull and trivial chore, it's not a shock to find out that things have gotten awfully lax around the place.

A visit from an inspecting officer threatens to expose how badly the situation has gotten out of hand. The presence of the habit-forming substance named in the title doesn't help matters.

This is a pretty silly comedy, with maybe a trace of satire directed at military thinking. It's an inoffensive bit of fluff, unlikely to make much of an impression on you.

Two stars.

Riverworld, by Philip Jose Farmer


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan.

As you may recall, one year ago the magazine offered Farmer's novella Day of the Great Shout, wherein everybody who ever lived on Earth was resurrected on a planet dominated by one huge river. This new tale takes place in the same setting.

The hero is cowboy movie star Tom Mix. Along with a woman who lived during the time of Moses, and a man who died nearly two thousand years ago, he sails down the river, escaping a brutal religious dictatorship. The trio join forces with some friendly folks from the Renaissance, and war breaks out with the bad guys.


A battle along the river.

There's lots of violent action, to be sure, but that's not really the most important part of the story. The author deals with religion in ways that may seem blasphemous to many readers.

The identity of the fellow traveling with Tom Mix is clear from the start, but I won't reveal it here. Suffice to say that this is likely to be the most controversial part of the story. The fact that the two men look almost exactly alike raises a lot of questions in my mind, which seem likely to remain unanswered.

Farmer has his hands on a strong premise here, with lots of possibilities. (Another story in the series is promised for the next issue.) I'll definitely keep reading to find out who else I'll run into along the river.

Four stars.

The Verdict

In the case of The People v. FP et al., the court dismisses all charges against PKD and PJF, with special commendation for BB. The other defendants are released with a warning to avoid tedium in the future, an admonition particularly directed at SM and JJ. The court further directs FP, leader of the accused, to retain the services of a good lawyer, in case of further charges in the future.


I don't think this guy ever lost a case.




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Movies

[November 14, 1965] A Teenage Dream (The Mating Game)

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by Lorelei Marcus

With the announcement of TV game show Password's hiatus, so were my glimpses of my favorite actor in his best form put on hold.  Left with only the occasional episodes of What's My Line where I could hope to expect maybe two minutes of his handsome face on my screen, and the schlock reruns of his stardom in the 50's that even the projectionists didn't care to watch, my chances of seeing my crush seemed bleak and scarce.

Last Sunday was a cold, dreary day that I'd spent staring at my signed photograph of Tony Randall, contemplating my dark fate, when hope burst through my door.  Hope in the form of my father and a cramped drive-in schedule that included, wedged into the afternoon slot, a movie starring the object of my dreams.

Never have I gotten into a car so fast.

The Mating Game

I went in with low expectations.  The horrid experiences of The Brass Bottle and Fluffy only furthered the trend of Randall's name in the credits being a bad omen for the quality of the movie.  That's why it was such a pleasant surprise when the film opened on a sprawling "Maryland" landscape, settling in on the hustle and bustle of the Larkin family farm.  Pa Larkin (Paul Douglas) and his children are introduced trying to sneak their neighbor's boar onto their truck after "borrowing" it for stud services.  The farm is cluttered with knicknacks, appliances, and an abundance of farm animals, all fundamental parts of Pa's "trading" business, with which he earns his living.


Paradise.

An aspiring self-sufficient homesteader myself, I liked this setup quite a bit. 

Of course, conflict quickly arises when Pa tries to return the boar to Mr. Burnshaw, who's a longtime enemy of the Larkin family.  Finally fed up with their antics, Burnshaw calls up the Internal Revenue Service and demands an income tax investigation.  It turns out that the Larkins have never paid income tax, never even filed a return.  A federal agent is assigned to the case.

Enter our leading man, Mr. Tony Randall, himself.  Luckily, contained as I was in our car, I was able to squeal to my utmost ability, only to the detriment of my father's hearing.

Randall, as the improbably named "Lorenzo Charlton", fares about as well on the assignment as you might expect any respectable government worker trying to apply law and order to an old fashioned farm.  That is to say utter chaos ensues as the whole Larkin family takes every opportunity to make Charlton feel at home when all he wants to do is get the job done.

Worse still for his work is Pa's beautiful, fun-loving daugher, Mariette (Debbie Reynolds) who takes an aggressive liking to Charlton.  (If there were ever an accurate representation of the Young Traveler on the silver screen, tomboyish, hellraising, Tony-Randall loving Mariette is it!)


Love at first sight.


Lorenzo's heart starts to thaw on the set of Forbidden Planet.

All sorts of high jinks ensue, ranging from the theft of Charlton's motor by Pa's two boys (ostensibly to keep it from burning oil; in reality, to keep the taxman in the house long enough to fall for Mariette) to a scene featuring a very drunk Charlton dancing around in his underwear.  It's an absolute romping delight to witness.


Tony Randall in his underwear.  That's all I needed to know.

Unfortunately, the fun doesn't last, as unfriendly neighbor Burnshaw calls up Charlton's boss and demands to know why the Larkins haven't been completely ruined yet.  The future looks dim as Charlton's boss comes to the farm himself, threatens to fire Charlton if he doesn't leave, and then determines that the Larkins, in fact, owe Uncle Sam $50,000!

The newly budding love between Charlton and Mariette cut off a the root, the Larkin family property on the block…whatever shall our heroes do?


Lorenzo is sent on his way.


Mariette plans to take on the IRS single-handedly.

Well, to give it away, the movie has a happy ending.  And it comes in an unpaid Civil War era government contract worth considerably more than what the Larkins owe.  In an act of heroism, Charlton convinces no less a personage than the Treasury Department's Inspector General to go to the farm and make good on the debt. 


Charlton takes on the IRS single-fingeredly.

The Larkins are happy not to owe but resistant to the idea of being millionaires, or as Pa repeatedly says:

"We eat good, sleep good, feel good. What more do we need?"

Charlton makes the brilliant suggestion of allocating the government debt to the Larkins to cover any current and future tax obligation, to which the IG gladly agrees. 

Charlton (now universally called "Charlie") and Mariette run off to roll in the haybales together, and everyone lives happily ever after.

The Mating Game is an unexpected delight with a fun premise carried by fine acting.  Paul Douglas (in his last role) and Una Merkel have wonderful chemistry as Pa and Ma, warming every scene they're in.  Debbie Reynolds does an excellent job capturing the wild charm of a young farmgirl, especially when she's dashing up and down, being chased around the barn by suitors, or riding her horse over path and fence.  Even the child actors, all four of them, are good, adding just the right punch lines to already hysterical scenes.

And of course, as always, Tony Randall is superb.  His delivery is crisp, his growing exasperation appears genuine, and his "bad" inebriated dancing is still incredibly impressive.  It is such a relief that, for once, he was able to play a competent and likable character.  To the girls I overheard in the car next over saying that "they should have gotten a more handsome leading man," I ask, "ARE YOU BLIND?"  The fastidious but charming Charlton couldn't possibly have been played better by anyone else!

But in the end, I was bound to love this movie.  It is my dream set to celluloid: living on a farm with Tony Randall.  And though the story is quite silly at times, and the ending a little too good to be true, The Mating Game serves its purpose as a sweet escape from reality.  If the tumultuous year of 1965 has gotten to be too much for you, then I strongly advise (check local cinema and TV listings of course) a trip to green Maryland with Tony Randall on your arm.

Just be sure to give him back when you're done — I do have a big fat crush on him, after all.

Until then, this is the Young Traveler, signing off.




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 12, 1965] Doldrumming (December 1965 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Off Days

The December Amazing, boasting Cordwainer Smith, Murray Leinster, Edmond Hamilton, Robert Sheckley, and Chad Oliver, looks promising despite the hideous front cover by Hector Castellon.  Unfortunately, the unifying theme of the issue is Off Days of Big Names.


by Hector Castellon

But first, let’s survey the terrain.  The Smith and Leinster stories are new, and informed rumor has it they are the first purchases of the new editor after the exhaustion of Cele Lalli’s leavings.  They are long, so the three reprints make up a smaller proportion of the magazine than in the previous issue, less than half of the total page count.  Almost all the the issue’s contents are fiction.  The editorial is one page, as is the letter column, and that’s it: no article, no book reviews.

The editorial by Joseph Ross cocks a fairly vapid snook at outside critics of SF, most recent example being Kurt Vonnegut, who isn’t entirely outside, and the letter column—both the letters and the editor’s responses—are calculated to cheer on the magazine and celebrate the true pulp quill, with a sideswipe at the previous editor’s attempts at something a little more elevated.

Killer Ship (Part 2 of 2), by Murray Leinster

The longest item is the conclusion of Murray Leinster’s serial Killer Ship, which inhabits the subgenre of Reactionary Science Fiction.  This is not a political designation, but a description of stories that suggest—nay, insist—that the future will, conveniently for the lazy reader and writer, not be much different from the past.  This one began last issue with: “He came of a long line of ship-captains, which probably explains the whole matter.”


by Norman Nodel

There follows a genealogy of the protagonist Captain Trent’s space- and sea-faring ancestors back to the eighteenth century, followed by several paragraphs about the similarity between the dangers of space travel and those of eighteenth-century sea voyaging, complete with Trent’s ancestor sailing into port with the hanged bodies of pirates swinging from the yardarms.  There’s no indication of what Trent knows or how he has been influenced by these ancestors’ doings, so how his lineage “explains the whole matter” is a bit murky.

A couple of pages later, after it is disclosed that the ship-owners who have hired Captain Trent for a trading voyage in pirate-infested waters, er, space, would be just as happy if he gets pirated so they can collect the insurance: “It didn’t bother him.  He came of a long line of ship-captains, and others had accepted similar commands in their time.”

Six pages further on, when it appears Trent’s ship has spotted a lurking pirate: “The report of a reading on the drive-detector was equivalent to a bellowed ‘Sail ho!’ from a sailing brig’s crosstrees.  Trent’s painstaking use of signal-analysis instruments was equal to his ancestor’s going aloft to use his telescope on a minute speck at the horizon.  What might follow could continue to duplicate in utterly changed conditions what had happened in simpler times, in sailing-ship days.”

Later still: “The arrival of the Yarrow in port on Sira was not too much unlike the arrival of a much earlier Captain Trent at a seaport on Earth in the eighteenth century.” I will spare you the extensive elaboration.  And I can’t resist one more, towards the end as the Captain and his men are mustering for the final battle: “When they gathered, crowding, to get into the Yarrow’s spaceboats, the feel of things was curiously like a forgotten incident in the life of a Captain Trent of the late eighteenth century.” (Again, spare the details.) There is no suggestion that the current Captain Trent is in any way aware of this incident.  Hey, the author just said it’s forgotten!

At this point it is tempting to ask, Why bother?  Why not just swing by the library and pick up a stack of old C.S. Forester novels, and take your eighteenth century straight?

Another conspicuous feature is its pervasive verbosity.  Consider the following passage, right after the discovery that there’s another spaceship lying low very close.  Trent throws a switch that turns on the signal-analyzing instruments and goes to work.  Now:

“There was silence save for that small assortment of noises any ship makes while it is driving.  It means that the ship is going somewhere, hence that it will eventually arrive somewhere.  A ship in port with all operating devices cut off seems gruesomely dead.  Few spacemen will stay aboard-ship in a spaceport.  It is too still.  The silence is too oppressive.  They go aground and will do anything at all rather than loaf on a really silent ship.  But there were all sorts of tiny noises assuring that the Yarrow was alive.  The air apparatus hummed faintly.  The temperature-control made small, unrelated sounds.  Somewhere somebody off-watch had a tiny microtape player on, the Aldonian music too soft to be heard unless one listened especially for it.”

Next: “The signal-analyzer clicked.” Intermission over!  Story starts up again! 

And here’s another one, short but telling.  Captain Trent and the captain of a pirate-bashed ship whose crew Trent has rescued are about to travel from one ship to the other.  “The Yarrow’s bulk loomed up not forty feet away, but beneath and between the ships lay an unthinkable abyss.  Stars shown up from between their feet.  One could fall for millions of years and never cease to plummet through nothingness.” Then they snap on lines and are hauled across the 40 feet, sans plummeting or any actual risk or fear of it.

A little later (we’re up to page 29 of the October issue), there is a long description of the pirates repairing the damage to their ship that Captain Trent inflicted by ramming them.  This is actually a nice vivid word-picture.  But then:

“While this highly necessary work went on, the stars watched abstractedly.  They were not interested.  They were suns, with families of planets of their own; besides, some of them had comets and meteoric streams and asteroid belts to take up their attention.  There was nothing really novel in mere mechanical repair-work some thousands of millions of miles away from even the nearest of them.”

And it goes on, and on, appearing everywhere like water seeping up through the floorboards of a flooding house.  It’s enough to make a body wonder if paying by the word is really such a good policy.

Oh, yes, there is also a story here, fitfully visible through the padding and the constant eruptions of the eighteenth century.  Trent takes on a job carrying a cargo through pirate territory, partly to make some money and party because he hates pirates.  He has an encounter with some pirates, captures some of their crew, and rescues the boss’s daughter (boss meaning owner of the pirated spaceship, and also a planetary president).  She thinks he’s the cat’s meow for rescuing her, and he sort of likes her too, but duty calls.  Then everybody foolishly thinks it’s safe to travel again because Trent defeated this lot of pirates.  The boss’s daughter gets kidnapped by pirates again.  Trent cleverly figures out where she and the other hostages must be, goes there with his crew, confronts the pirates in their lair, rescues boss’s daughter again, wedding bells clearly to follow. 

There are some clever plot twists along the hackneyed way, as one would expect from a guy who’s been at this for well over four decades.  There are also characters, sort of.  Captain Trent is the strong laconic guy who may have inner turmoil but keeps it to himself.  Everybody else is essentially a cartoon, notably Trent’s crew, who play a big part in his success, and who are essentially a bunch of roughnecks the Captain has recruited from barroom brawls and who follow him because he’s a pretty good brawler too.  Finally, there is the definitive happy ending: “This novel will be published in the winter by Ace Books under the title ‘SPACE CAPTAIN.’ ”

One star for both parts.  That’s the average of two stars for smooth professionalism, and zero stars for polished vacuity; life’s too short to waste time on this.

On the Sand Planet, by Cordwainer Smith

All right, Henry, wheel that one out and release it to the next of kin.  Who’s on the next slab?  Oh, Cordwainer Smith.  Sounds promising.  Except . . . 

On the Sand Planet seems to be the last in the Instrumentality series featuring one Casher O’Neill that began with On the Gem Planet and On the Storm Planet, with Three to a Given Star tangentially related.  They were all published in Galaxy, to considerable praise from the Traveler.  But . . . if the others appeared in Galaxy, what is this one doing here at the bottom of the market?  Unfortunately, suspicions confirmed.


by Jack Gaughan

Casher O’Neill has been on a mission to relieve his home planet Mizzer of the tyrant Wedder, and to that end has circuitously toured the galaxy and has obtained various superpowers, apparently courtesy of T’ruth, an Underperson derived from a turtle.  That’s all before this story opens.  Now, he’s landing on Mizzer again, walks into town and into Wedder’s citadel, and using his superpowers, rearranges Wedder’s head and portions of his supporting anatomy, turning him into a pussycat.  Metaphorically, I mean.  While he’s at it, Casher restores the intelligence of an idiot child. 

Now that Casher is done with his life’s work, he drops in on his mother, who has mixed feelings about him, and his daughter, who has her own life and would just as soon he went away.  So he decides to go to the Ninth Nile (this city Kazeer is at the confluence of a whole lot of Niles, it seems), though he is warned he will need iron shoes for the volcanic glass.

At the Ninth Nile, Casher meets D’alma, an elderly dog-underperson and an old acquaintance, who accompanies him, first to the gaudy City of Hopeless Hope, where everyone seems to be engaged in the practice of one religion or another, and D’alma warns that they are “the ones who are so sure that they are right that they never will be right.” Then, to the place of the Jwinds, “the perfect ones,” who destroy intruders who don’t meet their high standards.  But Casher, who contains multitudes in his enhanced cranium, is too much for them.  On to Mortoval, where a gatekeeper lets them pass when Casher again musters his superpowers to invoke “old multitudes of crying throngs.” The gatekeeper asks, “How can I cope with you?”

“ ‘Make us us,’ said Casher firmly.
“ ‘Make you you,’ replied the machine.  ‘Make you you.  How can I make you you when I do not know who you are, when you flit like ghosts and you confuse my computers?’ ”

On to Kermesse Dorgueil, where D’alma warns “here we may lose our way because this is the place where all the happy things of this world come together, but where the man and the two pieces of wood never filter through,” and a guy named Howard explains, “We live well here, and we have a nice life, not like those two places across the river that stay away from life,” and they make no claim to perfection. 

Here Casher encounters a woman, Celalta, who is dancing and singing, having resigned as a lady of the Instrumentality, and Casher recruits her as traveling companion by grabbing her wrist and not letting go.  Also he introduces himself by telepathy-dump, including “the two pieces of wood, the image of a man in pain,” and tells her it’s “the call of the First Forbidden One and the Second Forbidden One and the Third Forbidden One.” The Trinity, like you’ve never seen them (or it) before!  I guess.

Onward, past the Deep Dry Lake of the Damned Irene, resisting the temptation to lie down with the skeletons and die, to “the final source and the mystery, the Quel of the Thirteenth Nile,” where there are trees and caves, and fruits, melons, and grain growing, and evidence that other people used to live there, and also some surviving chickens running around.  Celalta declares, “We’re Adam and Eve in a way.  It’s not up to us to be given a god or to be given a faith.  It’s up to us to find the power, and this is the quietest and last of the searching places.” Et cetera.  Celalta says she’ll start the fire if O’Neill will go catch some chickens.

Well, this is pretty ridiculous.  It’s obviously some sort of religious allegory, reminding me a little of my ill-fated glancing encounter with The Pilgrim’s Progress, told in an often sonorous style but a plain vocabulary, like a negotiation between the King James Bible and Fun with Dick and Jane (that’s not a complaint).  But the point is a little elusive.  I get that at least one of the two is thinking about Adam and Eve, since she says it straight out.  But then what?  Mr. Smith owes us one more story in the series, catching up with Casher and Celalta and their inevitable children after ten years or so in isolation, living on feral chickens roasted in a cave.  But you know it won’t happen.

Two stars for this shaggy God epic.  As exasperating follies go, it’s at least readable and amusing.

The Comet Doom, by Edmond Hamilton

The reprints are an exceedingly mixed bag.  Surprisingly, the best is also the most archaic, Edmond Hamilton’s The Comet Doom, from the January 1928 Amazing.  There’s a big green comet passing by, and it turns out it’s inhabited by atomic-powered metal beings with tentacles who used to have organic bodies but gave them up.  These folks have about used up the comet’s resources and want to replenish their stores by carrying off a handy planet, ours to be precise.  In fact they have just yanked the Earth out of its orbit.  To further their scheme, they land on a lake island and snatch our heroes, Coburn and Hanley, and offer them metal bodies and immortality if they will help out in the liquidation of their species.

Hanley goes for it, Coburn escapes.  About this time, Marlin—the story’s narrator—is passing by the island in a boat which is half-destroyed by the comet, swims to shore, and encounters Coburn, who recruits him to the human cause.  They attack the cometeers and Coburn is killed, but the already-transplanted Hanley, in a final moment of human loyalty, destroys the machine that is steering Earth towards the comet, along with the comet-people present.  Doom is foiled.

This one is reasonably readable, mostly done in a style that reflects close attention to H.G. Wells, with echoes of both The Star and The War of the Worlds, despite the pulpish plot.  Two stars by today’s standards, probably a standout by those of its time.

Restricted Area, by Robert Sheckley

The other reprints are from the brief high-budget, and relatively high-brow, flowering of the Ziff-Davis magazines during 1952 and 1953, immediately after the magazine went from pulp size to digest size.  Robert Sheckley’s Restricted Area, from the June-July 1953 Amazing, is one of the slick but empty and cartoony pieces he produced in quantity at the beginning of his career, along with the more incisive ones. 


by Greisha Dotzenko

Space explorers land on a paradisical planet–wonderful climate, no germs, no rocks, lots of colorful friendly animals ready to hang out and play, and a giant steel shaft ascending to the clouds.  But after a while, the animals start to slow down and keel over.  Connect the dots.  Glib and facile, and the author knows it—this one hasn’t been in any of Sheckley’s multiple collections to date.  Two stars, barely.

Final Exam, by Chad Oliver


by Ashman

Final Exam by the sometimes redoubtable Chad Oliver, from the November/December 1952 Fantastic, is also from what we might call the Intermission, or Respite, between the Ziff-Davis magazines’ last gasp as pulps and their monotonous and purposely formulaic low-budget era of the mid- and late 1950s.  Like much of Oliver’s work, it reflects his anthropological bent (actually, a pretty straight-line bent—he’s become an anthropology professor at the University of Texas), but strikes an unusually sour note.  Professor La Farge’s class in Advanced Martian History is on a field trip to see and condescend to some of the colorful and primitive surviving Martians, but the time for the Martians to turn the tables has arrived in this heavy-handed satire.  Two stars, barely. 

Summing Up

Well, a couple more hours we’ll never get back, and not much to show for it, except an eccentric misfire from a sometimes brilliant writer, and a tolerable relic of a bygone era.  Next?

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge! Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 10, 1965] Strangers in Strange Lands (December 1965 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

Time for the Stars

I was having a lovely conversation with fellow traveler Kris about the mixed reviews for the British anthology show, Out of the Unknown.  Some critics are saying the stories aired would have been better served in a conventional setting rather than on Mars or wherever.

Indeed, this has been a common complaint for decades, that science fiction should be uniquely SF with stories that depend on some kind of scientific difference/unique setting, even if many of the trappings are familiar.

Galaxy is a magazine that has led this charge since its inception in 1950 and it therefore comes as no surprise that this month's issue features a myriad of settings that are in no way conventional, backdrops for stories that could take place in no genre but science fiction.

Citizens of the Galaxy


by John Pederson, Jr.

The Mercurymen, by C. C. MacApp

On the face of things, Mercury would seem a most inhospitable planet for colonization.  Until this year, the general conception of things was that the innermost planet of our solar system was tidally locked, presenting just one baked hemisphere eternally toward the sun, while the other remained in perpetual frigid night.


by Gray Morrow

C. C. MacApp offers up a most imaginative tale set on this half-cooked world.  The planet, or at least the twilight zone between the hot and cold sides, is overrun with the vines of a plant, the interiors of which are large enough and contain sufficient air and water to support human inhabitants.  How they plant came about or how the settlers came to dwell in them is a mystery, but hundreds of years later, the colonists have reverted to near savagery.  The ecosystem of the vines provides most of their needs: latex for vacuum suits, luminescent mold for light, oxygen-producing fungus for air.  But for precious metals and for new soil for crops, the denizens must venture into the airless waste outside.

Similarly, population pressure periodically forces tribes to split, members of a certain age tasked to form a new settlement further along the vine. The Mercurymen is the tale of Lem, eldest son of a recently expired chief, who leads a party out over the bleak landscape of Mercury in search of a new hope.  Along the way, he must deal with a deadly environment, hostile tribes, and treachery within the group.

Because so many of the concepts are alien, even as the characters are human, The Mercurymen can occasionally be a detailed, hard read.  Nevertheless, I appreciated MacApp's world building quite a lot, and I was carried along with Lem on his engaging, difficult adventure.  The novella would merit expansion into full length novel though the following discovery may require a complete change in setting to make it work:

From Nature, Volume 208, Issue 5008, pp. 375 (October 1965):

Rotation Period of the Planet Mercury, by McGovern, W. E.

The recent radar measurements of Mercury indicate that the period of rotation of the planet is 59 +/- 5 days1. This result is in complete disagreement with the previously quoted value of 88 days based on the visual observations of the markings on Mercury2-6. In this communication we show that the same visual observations can not only be reconciled with the radar-determined rotation period of Mercury but, in addition, can be used to derive an improved value for the period of rotation of the planet, namely, 58.4 +/- 0.4 days.

Yes, Mercury isn't tidally locked at all, and the stories that made use of this presumption are now all obsolete.  Editor Pohl may even have known this even when he put this issue to bed, as the news first broke in June.

Still, it's a good story, and again, you can squint your eyes and pretend it takes place on a different one-face world entirely.

Three stars.

Galactic Consumer Reports No. 1: Inexpensive Time Machines, by John Brunner

The latest Galaxy non-fact article is written in the style of the venerable magazine Consumer Reports, offering evaluation of six cut-rate personal time machines. 

The aforementioned Kris noted that there seem to be two John Brunners: one who writes Hugo-worthy material like The Whole Man and Listen! The Stars… and another who churns out hackwork.  I'd say this piece is representative of a third Brunner, neither outstanding nor unworthy.  It's a cute piece, although I would have appreciated a little more time travel in it.

Three stars.

Laugh Along With Franz, by Norman Kagan


by John Giunta

In a disaffected future, "None of the Above" (the so-called "Kafka" vote) threatens to become the electoral candidate of choice.

More pastiche of outlandish societal explorations than tale, I found myself falling asleep every few pages.  I'm afraid Norm Kagan continues not to do it for me.

One star.

For Your Information: The Healthfull Aromatick Herbe, by Willy Ley

A rather defensive Willy Ley discusses the history of tobacco in his latest science article.  It's actually pretty interesting, though I am no closer to taking up the still-ubiquitous pasttime than I was before.

Four stars.

The Warriors of Light, by Robert Silverberg


by Jack Gaughan

In the previously published story, Blue Fire, Silverberg introduced us to an Earth of the late 21st Century, one that worships the Vorster cult.  Vorster and his disciples cloak the scientific pursuit of immortality with a bunch of religious mumbo jumbo, complete with a rosary of the wavelengths of light.

Warriors of Light is not a sequel to Blue Fire, per se.  Instead, it is a story from a completely different perspective, that of an initiate of Vorsterianism who is recruited by a heretical group to steal some of the cult's deepest serets.

Reportedly, Silverbob produces 50,000 words of salable material per week, enough to make it seem like SF is his full time career even though it's just a fraction of his overall output.  Light is not the brilliant piece that its predecessor was, but the Cobalt-90 worshipping future Earth remains an intriguing setting, and I look forward to the next story that takes place therein.

Three stars.

"Repent, Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman, by Harlan Ellison

In Ellison's latest tale, The Master Timekeeper, a.k.a. the Ticktockman, is the arbiter of justice for a chronologically regulated humanity.  Everything runs to schedule; tardiness is punishable by the lost of years from one's lifespan.  There is no room for deviation, nonconformity.

Yet one clownish fellow, known as The Harlequin, cannot be restrained.  His antics distract, his capers disrupt, his personality compells.  This dangerous threat must be stopped.  But in erasing the heretic, can even the master inquisitor escape just a little of the nonconformist contagion?

This is the most symbolic of Ellison's work to date, and with a deliberate, almost juvenile storytelling aspect that veers toward the Vonnegutian.  I appreciate what Harlan is doing here, but there's a lack of subtlety, a ham-handedness that makes the piece less effective than much of his other work.

Oh, my telephone is ringing.  One moment. 

Ah.  Harlan says I'm an ignorant so-and-so and if I withdrew my head from my seat, I might be able to better comprehend his work.  (Note: this is not an exact transliteration).

Anyway, three stars.

The Age of the Pussyfoot (Part 2 of 3), by Frederik Pohl


by Wallace Wood

Last up is the continuation of last month's serial by editor Pohl, who is indulging himself in his first love, writing.  Forrester, who died in the late 1960s only to be ressurrected in the 25th Century when medical technology was up to the task, has run out of dough and has become employed by the one boss who will have him, an alien from Sirius, member of a race with whom Earth is currently in a Cold War.

In this installment, we learn about how this state of not-quite conflict came to be, as well as about the Forgotten Men, the penniless humans who make a living outside of normal society.  We also learn how difficult it is to survive when one cannot pay the bill on one's "joymaker," the ubiquitous hand-held combination telephone, personal computer, and electronic valet. 

Let us hope that we never get so reliant on this kind of technology that we find ourselves similarly helpless without them!

Pussyfoot continues to be entertaining and imaginative, far more effective in execution of its subject than similarly themed Kagan piece, though less satirical in its second installment than its first.

Four stars.

Beyond This Horizon

My Heinlein motif for the article section titles may be a little misplaced given that R.A.H. doesn't appear in the pages of Galaxy this month. Call it artistic license since his most recent novels are coming out (or have come out) in sister mags Worlds of Tomorrow and IF.

Anyway, at the very least, the stories in the December 1965 Galaxy hold to the Heinlein tradition of fundamentally incorporating unique settings. No transplanted Westerns or soap operas here!

For the most part, it works, resulting in a solid 3-star issue. Why don't you pick up a copy, Space Cadet, and see if you agree!




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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[November 8, 1965] You Must Be Mythtaken (Doctor Who: The Myth Makers)

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By Jessica Holmes

Yes, I am quite proud of myself for that title. This month, we’re taking a trip back to a time where the line between myth, legend and fact becomes blurred. Doctor Who has a new producer in John Wiles, who has some big boots to fill, and a new writer for this serial, one Donald Cotton. Let’s dive in and see how they got on.

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Movies

[November 4, 1965] The Best Bad Science Fiction Wrestling Can Offer (A Review of Two Films of El Santo)

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Ginevra Gafaro

There is nothing that hits the spot like a good bad science fiction film. For the best bad science fiction, there is nothing quite so satisfying as the genre of masked wrestler movies.

These films are required to balance plot, science fiction, and actual wrestling all while operating on a tight budget and being filmed in a short number of weeks. The ingenuity required of the cast and crew is nothing short of extraordinary. There are no stunt doubles and little room for error.

Two of the best examples of the new genre, Invasion of the Zombies and Samson Versus the Vampire Women, are now showing in a double feature at the Fort Lauderdale Thunderbird Drive In Theater — dubbed in English, but I've seen the originals, and I had to see them again in any format possible, they're that good.

Why These Films are Good

The plots of both films follow a simple premise: science fiction shenanigans occur and the best person to help resolve it is the masked wrestler Samson. It is easy to extrapolate how it ends from there. The beauty of these films is in the fast pace that keeps viewers at the edge of their seat and frankly, that they offer some of the most impressive wrestling matches ever seen on the screen.

El Santo
The masked wrestler himself, El Santo.

Both of these films star actual masked wrestler Rodolfo “El Santo” Guzman Huerta essentially playing himself on the big screen. Both films are produced by Alberto Lopez with cinematography by Jose Ortiz Ramos. Starring opposite El Santo is Jaime Fernandez who technically plays a character named Detective Rodriguez in one film and a character named Inspector Carlos in the other, but it is easy to imagine them as the same character.

Invasion of the Zombies

Title shot of Invasion of the Zombies in Spanish
Title shot from the original film, Santo Contra Los Zombies. This was later released in English under the name Invasion of the Zombies.

Invasion of the Zombies opens exactly as you might expect: on a ring match between Samson and another wrestler. The bout is a combination of choppy greco wrestling and some impressive lucha libre moves. One lovely highlight is when Samson jumps, grabs his opponent around the neck with his ankles and throws him flat on his back over on the other side of the ring. Incredible.

Ankles
Gorgeous.

The match goes on for about ten minutes before the actual plot begins (which is just fine). A young woman, Gloria, reaches out to local police after her father disappears. He had just finished his book on zombies. Three detectives agree to take the case, and they head over to her house to investigate. They find no leads but they do meet her uncle and his dedicated caretaker, who are distraught about the missing relative.

The film cuts to three men breaking into a jewelry store while moving in unison. They use what appears to be a laser wand to burn through a jewelry vault. A man walks in and shoots one of the three men. The bullets don’t affect him in the slightest, not even when one is shot directly in his head! The shooter is knocked unconscious by what is clearly a zombie and the three robbers leave. As they approach their getaway car, the police attempt to stop them. Again, bullets have no effect on these men, who are all obviously zombies, and the police are easily defeated.

Three men dressed in grecco style clothing while emptying out the safe deposit boxes.
Three robbers, who may or may not be zombies, empty out safe deposit boxes.

And Now For Samson

The officers explain the events to the police chief back at their station. No one uses the word zombie but it’s pretty clear this was not the typical robbery. The police chief calls local masked wrestler Sampson for help on his audio/visual communications system. Clearly the strange circumstances can only be resolved with his assistance.

Police Chief and Santo communicate through communication devices.
Samson talks with the Police Chief regarding his request for assistance.

Meanwhile the private investigators looking for the missing professor come to the same conclusions as the police chief: they decide to ask Samson for his help in their investigation. No explanation is given, but really, at this point does anyone need to provide one?

Samson somehow manages to use his communications system to spy on the black hooded villain controlling robbers. He sees the villain order the three robbers to steal children from the local orphanage. Samson rushes over to stop them. When he arrives, the zombies have children under each arm and the orphanage is on fire.

Zombies steal children from an orphanage. Typical zombie nonsense. Zombies steal children from the orphanage and light it on fire. Because they're evil.

Luring them outside to fight in the grass, a three-on-one battle ensues, Samson keeping them busy until the police appear. The good guys then all band together to stop the three robbers and yet the robbers still manage to defeat them. Not all is lost; the zombies escape without stealing any children.

The officers manage to identify the robbers and are shocked to discover they are all dead men. It is at this point that someone proposes that these people are zombies. The police chief cannot believe it.

To The Shock of No One, Things Escalate

The black hooded villain decides something must be done about Samson. He abducts Samson’s next wrestling opponent and injects him with an unknown substance.

In the ring match against Samson, the opponent shows superhuman strength and skill, nearly choking Samson to death. Samson notices something strange under his opponent's tights and pulls open the hem of his pants. The tug causes smoke to pour out from the pants and the opponent falls over in the ring. His body disappears right in front of everyone, leaving behind a strange belt on fire.

The villain then decides to try to kidnap the Mayor and Gloria. Like you do.

The villain sends three zombies out to do his bidding.
The villain gives his orders to his three favorite zombies.

Samson and the team of detectives trace the villain down to his lair, Samson battling the villain while the police fight the zombie horde. He manages to slay him and break the zombie controlling machine. The identity of the villain is revealed and the zombies disappear in a mesmerizing special effect.


Zombie Horde.

Here the story ends with a beautiful comment from Samson: “When men violate the rules of God, they become victims of their own misdeeds.” It is a more thoughtful ending than one would expect for a movie about a masked wrestler fighting zombies.

Samson Versus the Vampire Women

Title shot of Samson Versus the Vampire Women
Original title shot of Santo vs. Las Mujeres Vampiro, later released in English under the title Samson vs. the Vampire Women

Samson Versus the Vampire Women starts strong with haunting music and beautiful close ups. A vampire woman, Tundra, slips from her coffin to awaken three male vampires from their slumber. The men have been chained to granite slabs while the women rest comfortably in underground coffins.

The aesthetics of their home are stunning, a fine line between Gothic and Grecian. The special effects on the audio render the opening monologue nearly unintelligible but the beauty of the film makes it irrelevant.

The film cuts to a young woman, Diana, playing Moonlight Sonata on the piano for her brother and father. She stops playing and claims she felt summoned by the face of a beautiful woman.

The beautiful woman that Diana claims is watching her.
This is the beautiful woman Diana believes is watching her. She's right.

Diana and her brother retire for the evening, leaving their father to pull out some papers covered in large hieroglyphics. He starts to translate the document, stating that in 200 years a descendant of the woman named Rebecca will be called when she turns 21 to be put through the rituals of the vampire women.

This appears to be a universe where 200 years prior, people recorded information by using rudimentary hieroglyphics as a cipher to prevent the information from falling into the wrong hands. This is the only explanation one can surmise for the use of hieroglyphics spelling out gibberish and being read in the wrong order.

The professor calls Samson for assistance on his audio/visual communications device. Samson enters his office through the balcony, and the professor explains that Samson is the masculine equivalent of Rebecca with the condensed force of masculine strength. The actor's ability to deliver that bit of dialogue is impressive. The professor asks Samson for his assistance in keeping his daughter Diana safe. It is believed that she is the descendant of Rebecca. It’s either that, or she’s the descendant of Sappho.


The professor speaks with his friend Samson. I wonder how they became friends.

It is very important for you to know that Samson spends this entire film wearing tights, his mask, and an optional cape. It’s a good look.

Samson looking very handsome and shirtless.
Samson looking very handsome in his shirt optional attire.

We Now Interrupt Your Plot for Wrestling

Here the film cuts to Samson at a wrestling match. The match goes on for quite a while, but it’s composed of excellent fight choreography. And if you didn't come here for the wrestling, why did you come here?

Afterwards, the film moves back and forth between some quick scenes:

The vampire woman from the beginning of the movie bites Diana’s neck and drinks her blood before running off. The Carmilla similarities are off the charts.

Vampire woman leans down to drink Diana's blood.
The vampire leans down to drink Diana's blood.

A group of vampire women corner a man and drain him of blood in their lair.

The vampires discuss how they will take Diana on her 21st birthday. It is just as absurd as you can imagine, a cross between a high school girls sleepover and a cult militia. I am torn at this point in the movie. On one hand, clearly Diana would be happy with these young women considering that this is being presented as some sort of destiny plot. On the other hand, she can do better.

Vampire woman gather to discuss stealing Diana.
The vampires gather to discuss the abduction of Diana. My enemy, rubber bat on a string, makes an appearance.

In the evening, the professor throws a birthday party for Diana. The front door is guarded by two men who are charged with making sure no one enters without an invitation. A male and female vampire put him into a trance and slip in among the party guests. Not proficient at mingling, the vampires are discovered and Samson shows up to fight them. He manages to drive them off. A man is found dead from vampire bites. The group gathers to discuss next steps.

Two vampires walk into a party.
Two vampires walk into a party. They talked their way into an invitation.

Plot Relevant Wrestling Commences

Samson is forced to leave in order to fight in his next wrestling match. His opponent wears a black mask and fights with inhuman strength. Things are touch and go but Samson unmasks his opponent only to reveal a hideous vampire face. The spectators and officials riot. In the confusion, the vampire escapes and is next seen abducting Diana in a taxi.

Officers and wrestling fans alike riot.
Nearby officers try to stop the vampire while wrestling fans riot.

Her father consults his books and thus determines the location of the vampire lair. Samson immediately heads over… and walks into a trap. The vampires chain him down on one of the granite coffins but the foxy Samson manages to escape. He keeps the vampires busy but they pin him down, reaching for his mask. Just as they are about to reveal him, the sun comes in from the windows and sets the vampires on fire. A few manage to escape to the underground lair, but Samson is determined to stop them. He grabs a flaming torch and sets all of their coffins to blaze.


Samson sets fire to the vampire coffins.

Triumphant, Samson carries Diana out of the lair. He hands her back to her family and drives off into the distance.

It Sounds Terrible. Why Bother Watching?

So is it worth watching a pair of import SF films about a wrestler fighting the evil forces of the supernatural? In a word, yes. Invasion of the Zombies offers some stunning visuals and a clever version of zombies not seen before on the silver screen. Using a belt and computers to control zombies? Brilliant. Similarly, the soundscaping in Samson Versus the Vampire Women really cannot be overpraised — creepy, haunting, and beautiful in equal measures. And El Santo is always a joy to watch, one of the greatest athletes to appear on the silver screen.

True, there is also some awful film making. Invasion of the Zombies doesn’t even bother to attempt to explain why a masked wrestler is the ideal person to fight zombies or search for a man in a missing persons case. For every jaw dropping action sequence in both films, there was at least one very stupid on screen event. The ancient Egyptian bit was particularly enraging.

But the gravest sin of all, dear readers, is the use of a cheap rubber bat on a visible string in multiple shots of Samson Versus the Vampire Women. The bats weren’t even necessary for the film’s progression.

Still, for all the faults, at the heart of both films is a sincerity. Their creators clearly tried to make a product greater than the sum of its parts. That the films end up a joy to watch despite their admitted flaws is evidence that the creators have succeeded.

These two movies are truly some of the best bad science fiction that wrestling has to offer.

Samson waves goodbye from his car.
Samson waves goodbye.




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Magazine/Anthology, 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

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Magazine/Anthology, 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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Movies

[October 29, 1965] Oater, West German style (The movie, Winnetou Part 3)

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Cora 'faxed this piece from West Germany along with yesterday's comics article. It was such a delightful snapshot into the state of Westerns in Europe that we're giving it an off-schedule publication. Enjoy!


by Cora Buhlert

Not a dry eye in the house:

Winnetou Part 3

West German cinemas are currently dominated by the heroic Apache chief Winnetou and his white blood brother Old Shatterhand from the adventure novels of Karl May.

Karl May (1842 to 1912) was a small time criminal turned writer of pulpy adventure stories and continues to be one of Germany's most popular authors more than fifty years after his death. Generations of German youths have devoured the glorious adventures of May's heroes in the Middle East, Mexico and the Old West, adventures the author assures us are autobiographical, even though May never left Germany. The most popular are the novels and stories May wrote about the adventures of Old Shatterhand, a Saxonian engineer and thinly veiled May stand-in, and his friend and blood brother Winnetou. When I was twelve, I was going to marry Old Shatterhand and my best friend Dagmar was going to marry Winnetou.

In 1962, Horst Wendlandt, producer of the popular Edgar Wallace films, began adapting May's novel for the big screen. Two weeks ago, the long-awaited Winnetou Part 3 hit West German cinemas, starring Hollywood star Lex Barker as Old Shatterhand and French actor Pierre Brice as Winnetou. In spite of the numbering, this is already the seventh movie about the adventures of the heroic Apache chief – the number three only refers to the fact that this movie is the adaptation of the third volume of May's Winnetou trilogy.

Now everybody who has read the novels (and is there anybody in Germany who hasn't?) already knows that Winnetou heroically gives his life to save his friend and blood brother Old Shatterhand at the end of the story. Nonetheless, there was not a dry eye in the theatre when Winnetou tragically expires in the arms of his best friend to the soaring theme music by Martin Böttcher.

Winnetou and Old Shatterhand
Friendship beyond death: Winnetou (Pierre Brice) and Old Shatterhand (Lex Barker)

Producer Horst Wendlandt and actor Rik Battaglia, who played the man who shot Winnetou, reportedly received threats. However, fans need not fear, for the Winnetou movies are still a cash cow for Wendlandt and so the heroic Apache chief will be back in German theatres in only two months in the prequel Old Surehand, Part 1.

Will you be buying a ticket?




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Magazine/Anthology, 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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