Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 4, 1965] A Sign of the Times (Michael Moorcock’s Books of 1965)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Across Britain, there has been a recent explosion of road signage. These are designed to establish safer traffic rules and to give people direction on how to use the area who would otherwise be unfamiliar. The one flaw with this is most people are confused as to what they mean.

No Overtaking
No overtaking…or dual carriageway?

In a recent survey only 60 percent of road users knew a black and red car in red circle meant no overtaking, with others believing it meant things like dual carriageway or overtake on the inside.

No Entry
No entry…or cross here?

Pedestrians do not fare much better. Only a small fraction knew that a white bar on a red circle means no entry, with many believing it meant something different, such as a pedestrian crossing.

This responses to the signage is similar to the relationship between science fiction readers and the new wave. For some they are stories full of meaningless symbols that go nowhere, for others it is an essential step in moving science fiction forward. And right at the centre of the new wave is Michael Moorcock.

Michael Moorcock
Michael Moorcock at LonCon this year

In spite of being only 25 years old, Moorcock is one of the core figures in British science fiction. He previously edited both Tarzan Adventures and The Sexton Blake Library before taking over New Worlds magazine last year. For the last 5 years he has been a regular contributor to Carnell’s trio of magazines and has published books before such as The Stealer of Souls.

With Roberts & Vinter Ltd. taking over the magazine and wanting to launch their own paperback publishing arm, the way had been paved for an explosion of Moorcock books on to the market.

However, his output has been of variable quality, so I have decided to rank them from worst to best.

Starting at the bottom of the pile:

5. Warriors of Mars\Blades of Mars\Barbarians of Mars, by Edward P. Bradbury

Michael Kane of Mars

Moorcock is on record as a big fan of Edgar Rice Burroughs, stating one of the first books for adults he read was The Master Mind of Mars. So, it should be no surprise he would write his own version of the Barsoom stories. In these Michael Kane is an American physicist who is transported to Mars in the past and then goes through a series of swashbuckling adventures on the Red Planet.

From what I have heard, Moorcock sat down and wrote the entire trilogy over the course of the week and, unfortunately, it shows. They are horrendously overwritten. Just a sample passage:

His skin was dark, mottled blue. Like the folk of Varnal, he did not wear what we should think of as clothing. His body was a mass of padded leather armour and on his seemingly hairless head with a tough cap, also of padded leather but reinforced with steel.

His face was broad yet tapering, with slitted eyes and a great gash of a mouth that was open now in laughing anticipation of my rapid demise. A mouth full of black teeth, uneven and jagged. The ears were pointed and large sweeping back from the skull. The arms were bare save for wrist-guards, and strongly muscled on a fantastic scale. The fingers were covered – encrusted would be a better description – with crudely cut precious stones.

This level of description just goes on and on. There is also no real depth to these stories, just jumping from one encounter to another.

I suppose this may appeal to the Barsoom fans. But given how regularly Burroughs books are reprinted, why wouldn’t you just pick up the originals?

One star across the whole trilogy

4. The Best of New Worlds, Ed. by Michael Moorcock

The Best of New Worlds

Rather than a novel, this is an anthology he edited (although it does indeed include two of his own stories as should surprise no one). Unlike its title might suggest, this is not so much the best across all of New Worlds' history; rather, it acts as a comparative collection, with 6 from the end of the 50s and 9 from around the recent handover between Carnell and Moorcock’s editorship (3 from the former, 6 from the latter).

As such, what it really provides for an interesting look at how New Worlds has changed over time and the significant difference between James White’s Sector General tales and Hilary Bailey’s The Fall of Frenchy Steiner. Whilst not the best stories themselves it is an interesting concept, nonetheless.

A high three stars

3. Stormbringer, by Michael Moorcock

This collects the remaining four Elric stories from Science Fantasy, meaning between this and The Stealer of Souls you can now own almost the entire Elric saga (the final story published in Fantastic is available in the Carnell anthology Weird Shadows from Beyond, published by Corgi). In these final tales we get the albino Elric's battles against the forces of chaos, as order and chaos battle for domination of the world.

The ideas in Stormbringer are not new and there are solid shades of Howard, Tolkien, and Anderson throughout. A couple of things raise the stories up. Firstly, here Moorcock manages to make his descriptive style evocative without becoming stodgy, really elevating the mood. Secondly, there is the cosmic level these stories go to. More than any other fantasy story we get a sense of scale I have yet to see achieved, reminding me more of Star Maker than Conan.

Four Stars

2. The Fireclown, by Michael Moorcock

In the underground city of Switzerland, elections for the solar government are taking place. Yet, in the lower levels a prophet known as The Fireclown is preaching a return to nature. Is he mad, a danger to mankind, or its saviour?

There is definitely something in the air right now with political distrust and the desire for a strange outsider to save us. Maybe it is the political scandals that have been emerging with increasing frequency. Maybe it is the emergence of demagogues like Barry Goldwater. Whatever the reason, this is reminiscent of Reynolds’ Of Godlike Power and Ellison’s Repent Harlequin…

However, Moorcock goes in his own direction with this idea, adding political intrigue, weird philosophy, and a general distrust of everyone in authority. Graham Hall dismissed this as hack writing. If so, then I am happy to see Moorcock continue to hack away.

A high Four Stars

1. The Sundered Worlds, by Michael Moorcock

This is fixed up from two tales from the end of Science Fiction Adventures, Carnell’s magazine for longer fiction. In fact, the second half appeared in the final ever issue of that great publication. In this story the whole of reality is at threat of collapse and is up to the psychic Renark to seek out the problem. He travels to the Sundered Worlds, a system outside the normal rule of time and space, and must fight to save humanity.

When I think of Moorcock I think of the weird and conceptual, and this is certainly that. This story is frenetically paced, throwing you through multiple ideas, challenges, and worlds, not allowing you to catch your breath. But I never felt myself being let down or confused by any of it. Instead I loved the intense journey I was on. It is not even one I can easily summarise; it has to be experienced.

This is going to be a controversial choice for my favourite of his works as I have heard it loathed by some as obscure and incoherent, but I consider it to instead be astounding and challenging. An amazing trip to go on.

Five Stars

More Moorcock Please!

Whilst his work is not always to be my tastes, when he is willing to try to be ambitious, this young talent is able to create some truly astounding works that may well be considered future classics. With these writings, along with his editorship of New Worlds, Moorcock seems to be pushing science fiction in an interesting direction. And I look forward to what he puts out in the future.

But, if you wouldn’t mind, Michael, no more Kane of Mars stories…

The holidays are coming! Looking for the perfect gift for a niece, nephew, or other young relative? Kitra is the hopeful, found family novel that they've been waiting for. Buy a copy for them today…and perhaps one for yourself!




[December 2, 1965] Superiority Complex (January 1966 IF)


by David Levinson

Some people are objectively better at some things than everybody else. Sandy Koufax can pitch a baseball better than almost anybody, and Muhammad Ali is arguably the best boxer we’ve seen in his weight class in a long time.


The problem arises when that excellence in a specialized area leads to an assumption of excellence in other, unrelated areas. I certainly wouldn’t turn to either of the aforementioned men for suggestions on nuclear policy or to bring peace to South-east Asia. Worse still is when whole groups assume superiority over others based solely on an accident of birth.

Heart of Darkness

Last month, I discussed the difficulties faced by the United Kingdom in handing over power to the locals in Rhodesia due to an unwillingness on the part of the white government under Ian Smith and the Rhodesian Front to share power with Black Rhodesians. Alas, the situation has now collapsed completely. On November 5th, the colonial governor declared a state of emergency, blaming Smith and two African nationalist organizations, the Zimbabwe African People’s Union and the Zimbabwe African National Union.


Ian Smith signs the Unilateral Declaration of Independence

On the 11th, the Smith government unilaterally declared independence. Within hours, the United Nations Security Council condemned the action 10-0 with France abstaining. British Prime Minister Harold Wilson has been granted the authority to rule Rhodesia by decree, though what good that might do is hard to see. Wilson steadfastly refuses a military solution and expects economic embargoes to force Smith to capitulate. But with two neighboring nations, South Africa and the Portuguese colony of Mozambique, more than willing to ignore any embargoes, it is likely to be a long time before we see a resolution to this situation.

Conflicts Great and Small

Fittingly, there’s plenty of superiority, assumed and otherwise, in this month’s IF. Let’s get to it.


This art for “Cindy-Me” bears absolutely no relation to the story. Art by Morrow

Continue reading [December 2, 1965] Superiority Complex (January 1966 IF)

[November 30, 1965] War is Swell (December 1965 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

The Thrill of Combat

It was just twenty years ago that the second war to end all wars drew to an explosive close. Two titans of tyranny (and their little brother) were defeated by the Arsenal of Democracy.  Clearly, World War 2 was "the good war:" there's a reason it is now as popular on television and in wargames as the Western and the Civil War.

And just in time.  After the sloggish stalemate of Korea and the painful "escalatio" in Vietnam (credit to Tom Lehrer), war needs to be fun again.  I suppose it's no surprise that war is not only a common theme in science fiction, but the good and fun kind of war is the thread that ties together the December 1965 issue of Analog, notoriously the most conservative (reactionary?) of the outlets in our visionary genre.

One War after Another


by Kelly Freas

Beehive (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

Ronny Bronston, forgettably faced but utterly competent agent for Earth's "Section G" is back.  Last we saw him, he'd been on the trail of interstellar troublemaker, Tommy Paine, spurring revolution on dozens of worlds.  Turned out that Paine was actually Section G, itself, skirting the non-interference clauses of the galactic charter to ensure that the colony worlds didn't stagnate.

In Beehive, we find out why: a century ago, the first sentient alien was found.  Well, actually, its corpse — it had been a casualty of a war of extermination.  And we still don't know who their enemy was, or if they'll soon be knocking on our doors.  That's why the super secret service has been surreptitiously trying to speed of progress on all of the colony worlds so that when the aliens do come, we'll be as ready as possible.

One of the more successful colonies, the putatively libertarian but actually authoritarian world of Phrygia appears to be making a play to turn the galactic society into an Empire, and Bronston is dispatched to get the facts on the ground.  But when he gets there, the agent discovers that the wheels have wheels within them, and the Phrygian dictator knows far more about the alien threat than Section G.


by Kelly Freas

While this serial has a definite hook of a cliffhanger, for the most part, it's not Reynolds' best…or even his middlin'.  There's a glib, breezy quality to it that is both smug and serves to reduce the tension.  The central idea is repugnant, too — that Earth knows best, and their underhanded means of stimulating progress are justified.  But then Campbell probably didn't watch that recent documentary on how the CIA messed up in Guatemala.

Anyway, I'll keep reading, but it's two stars right now.

Warrior, by Gordon R. Dickson


by Kelly Freas

Another sequel and another war.  In Dickson's Dorsai universe, humanity has spread to thirteen worlds, each focusing on an aspect of cultural development.  The Dorsai have made war their profession, turning it into a sublime art, and they are the most esteemed and feared mercenaries.

In the novella/novel, Soldier, Ask Not, we were introduced to twin brother generals, Kenzie and Ian Graeme.  The former is a charismatic leader, the latter a sullen but matchless strategician.

Ian Graeme returns in Warrior, traveling to Earth to seek justice for 32 of his men, slaughtered when their glory-hunting captain disobeyed orders to lead a hopeless charge.  The officer was court martialed and executed, but Graeme knows that the real culprit is his gangster brother.  Warrior tells the tale of Graeme and the brother's eventual and climactic confrontation.

There are a lot of inches in this story devoted to the obvious prowess of Mr. Graeme, his dark eminence, his barely suppressed strength, his intimidating military demeanor that requires no uniform, etc. etc.  Frankly, it all runs thin early on.

Still, it's a pretty good story (breathlessly recommended by my nephew David…but then so was Beehive), and the display of Dorsai tactics, trapping the brother within the trap being laid for Graeme, was effective.

Three stars.

Heavy Elements , by Edward C. Walterscheid

Ever wonder how the transuranium elements were fashioned?  Walterschied returns for a very comprehensive article on the subject.  There's a lot of good information here, and it's reasonably well delivered.  It's also very dense (no pun intended), certainly not in the Asimov style.  It took me a few sittings to get through.

Three stars.

Mission "Red Clash", by Joe Poyer


by Gray Morrow

Joe Poyer's first story is essentially the Analog version of the MacLean novel, Ice Station Zebra.  The pilot of a next-generation recon plane, the hypersonic X-17, is forced to bail out over Norway after being shot down by a Russian interceptor.  Now he, and the three men dispatched from the nuclear cruiser John F. Kennedy, must evade squads of Soviets and survive frigid conditions to get critical intelligence back to our side.

Told with technophiliac details so lurid that I felt it belonged under rather than on the counter, there's not much of a story here.  Mission lacks context, characterization, and conclusion, leaving a competently told middle section of an unfinished novel.  It's low budget Martin Caidin.

Two stars.

Countercommandment, by Patrick Meadows


by Domenic Iaia

Last up, a computer scientists is rushed to NORAD to find out why, three hours after World War 3 was declared by the Chinese, the Big Brain has not executed a countersrike.  And why, despite the efforts of the enemy, their missiles haven't launched either.

This is a two page story padded to ten with the gimmick that the computers, having access to our most sacred documents, which all speak to the sanctity of human life, could not in good conscience end humanity.

It might work in Heinlein's new serial currently running in IF.  It makes no sense for computers of 1970s vintage, and it comes off as mawkish.

One star.

One Million Deaths is a Statistic

This war-soaked issue of Analog scores a dismal 2.2, barely beating out the truly awful Amazing (1.8).

Above it, we have IF (2.6), New Writings #6 (2.9), Galaxy and New Worlds (3), Science Fantasy (3.1), and the superlative Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.9)

In keeping with the (not entirely accurate) notion that war is a "man's game", there were no entries by women this month.  Zero.  Goose egg.  Color me dismayed.

And on that note, we are done with all of the science fiction magazines with a 1965 cover date.  Rest assured, we have compiled all of the statistics from the past year, and our Journey-Vac will be spitting out a fine edition of the '65 Galactic Stars at the end of next month. 

You won't want to miss it!



And speaking of stars…

If you caught my review last year of Tom Purdom's I Want the Stars, then you know why I was so excited at the chance to reprint it. And now it can be yours! This new Journey Press edition also comes with a special 'making-of' section.

Get yourself a copy, and maybe one for a friend!




[November 28, 1965] A Fantastic European Duo (Alphaville & The Saragossa Manuscript)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

It may be a product of my age but I think cinema peaked in the early fifties, when I was just exiting my teenage years. Back then studios were willing to put out quiet meditative films. Today it is hard to see anyone making films like Harvey, The Day the Earth Stood Still or The Bishop’s Wife.

Greatest Show on Earth

Then came the rise of television and the Cecil B. DeMille response. Since The Greatest Show On Earth, most science fiction and fantasy cinema seems to have moved away from doing anything deep or meaningful in favour of a spectacle of flashy explosions. The closest we have got are probably the bomb films like Dr. Strangelove or The Bedford Incident, which are only science fiction by the tiniest margin.

London Film Festival

As such, when a good friend of mine got tickets to the Ninth London Film Festival, I wanted to see if there was anything I could see that would convince me that cinema still had the power to be a great speculative medium. Thankfully two European Films were able to do just that.

Alphaville: A Strange Case of Lemmy Caution

Alphaville

Jean Luc-Godard seems an odd choice to be doing science fiction, with his previous work always being much more centred in the real-world. I am primarily familiar with him from his crime thrillers, the très chic Breathless and his tongue-in-cheek The Outsiders, which speak to someone of a high cultural awareness but with little interest in the speculative side of film making.

“Everything weird is normal in this damn town!”

As Alphaville starts, it seems like it could be a standard spy thriller. Lemmy Caution arrives in Alphaville and checks into the hotel under a false name, claiming to be a journalist from the outer countries. The woman in the hotel room offers to sleep with him but he refuses. A man tries to kill him but he sees him off. So far, so Danger Man. Then things start to get stranger…

Alphaville 1

First off, the woman reveals herself to be a level-three seductress. We then just get causally dropped in:

Something was definitely awry in this galaxy’s capital.

Putting us straight into the science-fictional realm but said in a way that we might expect Bogart to reference New York or LA.

Lemmy receives a call telling him a Natacha Von Braun is here to be of service to him. Pulling out two photos we see one of them has written on the back:

Professor Leonard Von Braun inventor of the death ray and Alpha Rays. Must be brought in alive. Must be killed.

And a second photo is of a Henry Dickson with an address attached. He gets Natascha (Leonard’s daughter) to take him to Alex’s address

Alphaville 2

Lemmy finds him at The Red Star Hotel. Henry explains that people who cannot adapt to Alphaville are killed by the authorities or kill themselves. Enquiring about Alpha 60, we learn it is a supercomputer but incredibly more advanced governing Alphaville entirely by logic. Finally, we learn Leonard Von Braun was formerly an agent like Dickson and Caution, but he is now a “slave to the logic”.

Whilst a huge amount of heavy lifting is done by this conversation, it doesn’t feel like we are being spoonfed, rather just like two agents talking to each other. We also get put in the mind of 30s and 40s noir with both the intense dialogue and the agents having names from media of the period.

Alphaville 3

Going forward from here, it is largely a battle of identities between Leonard’s vision of a completely computerized society, Lemmy’s romantic vision of the importance of art and freedom, and Natascha somewhere between the two. In the end Lemmy kills Leonard, disrupts the control of Alpha 60, and helps Natascha leave Alphaville, hoping that it can become a happy place once again.

“Sometimes reality can be too complex to be conveyed by the spoken word”

Alphaville 4

Writing this synopsis doesn’t really do justice to this film. It could easily have ended up as a forgettable sub-Orwellian thriller, but instead is more like seeing Orson Welles adapt a Philip K. Dick Novel. There are a few reasons for this:

Eddie Constantine is excellent as a cynical hard-edged agent. He is angry at the injustice around him and unwilling to play by the rules of Alphaville. He is very much playing by Raymond Chandler’s much quoted maxim:

…down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean

But then he is also both our entry point into our world and the mouthpiece for the idea that art and love are more important than technological progress and logic.

Now there are many science fiction stories at the moment on the theme of the danger of a highly computerized society. But Godard manages to strike the balance well enough that you can treat it as being critique of a number of areas. Specificity of allegory can be a curse, as there is a tendency to see the story as just a mystery to be solved. By keeping it wide Godard allows for multiple interpretations of the piece.

Finally, I have to mention Godard’s direction which manages to create an amazing sense of unease throughout. I believe this is by constantly counterpointing everything we see to balance between the familiar and the strange. The music played often being the opposite of the mood of the scene we are watching, characters shake their head for yes and nod for no, and the we see technology that is both contemporary and futuristic side-by-side.

If I have one critique of this film, it is that most of the women are treated like possessions. However, as this is so literal, with women being in glass cabinets or having catalogue numbers shown I feel this is a definite attempt at satire.

I would give this a full five stars and also be willing to say it is my favourite science fiction film I have ever seen.

The other film I saw was one that may well be that in the realm of fantasy.

The Saragossa Manuscript

Saragossa Manuscript

Unlike Godard I am completely unfamiliar with Wojeich Has’s work, nor do think have I seen a Polish film before. However, this is film impressed me greatly with its richness and complexity. I will definitely be looking out for others from Has in future.

"I don’t know where reality ends and fantasy begins"

Saragossa Manuscript 1

During the Peninsular War two soldiers find a book that the Captain says it is about his grandfather, Count Alfonse Ollavedez.

Ollavdez is finds an abandoned inn, Venta Queneda and is brought to a palace in the mountains. In the cave he meets two Tunisian princesses, who claim to be his cousins. They wish to marry him but only if he agrees to convert. After drinking from a skull chalice he awakes outside. Ollavdez tries to go to the palace again but only finds a small cave filled with bones and rats.

Riding on, he then comes to a small chapel with a hermit. Ollavdez tells how his father met his mother in these mountains. We also meet Pacheco who tells of a similar experience to Ollavdez’s at Venta Queneda.

After a night in the chapel, Ollavdez travels on but is arrested by the Inquisition. As he is being tortured, the princesses come to rescue him and they all flee back to the palace. The princesses then ask him to take their throne but a Sheik enters and he says he will kill him soon, telling him to once more drink from the skull chalice. Again, Ollavdez finds himself outside, however a Kabbalist is also there.

In order to avoid the inquisition, the Kabbalist says they should all head to his castle nearby.

That is where part one leaves off. Whilst this first half feels like Gawain and The Green Knight, the second half is closer to a Shakespearean comedy.

"Frasquetta told her story to Busqueros. He told it Lopez Soarez, who told it to Senor Avadoro. It’s crazy."

Saragossa Manuscript 2

At the castle, Ollavdez looks through the library and finds a book illustrating the princesses (the same illustrations we saw in the original frame). Separately the Kabbalist is annoyed the book has been left open and worries if Ollavdez has read to the end, it will all be meaningless.

Then, a group of travellers arrive, led by Avedoro. His very intricate story will make up most of the second half:

It primarily concerns Lopez Soarez who is in love with Inez Moro, the daughter of a banker whom his father has an intense rivalry with. His friend Busqueros tries to help him out first by telling the story of Frasquetto whose, husband has her lover killed, and who she then attempts to scare to death until he is killed by a man hired by her lover before his death.

Next he attempts to sneak him in her window but instead he finds the wrong window and convinces an old cavalier he is being haunted by a ghost. Finally, when Lope Soarez comes to town they manage to engineer a situation which causes his father to forgive him and settle the disagreement with the Moro family.

Avedoro concludes his tale and The Kabbalist tells Ollavdez there are important matters he must attend to and so he rides out. Ollavdez follows a rider in black, but ends up back at Venta Queneda again.

Inside the place he finds the princesses and the Sheik. The Sheik reveals he was disguised as the hermit before but is actually the family Sheik. The princesses are pregnant with his children and everything he experienced was a test to see if the last male descendent of the line was worthy.

He drinks from the skull chalice one final time and awakes the book from the Kabbalist’s library. Back in a village, Olavdez writes his tale in the front of the book. However, he sees the princesses again out of the window in a mystical position summoning him.

In triumph he throws the book away (leaving it in the inn where it is found at the start) and rides back to the mountains once more.

“When a decent man is telling you a fascinating story you shouldn’t interrupt”

Saragossa Manuscript 3

As you can probably tell this film is long and very complicated. Yet it never feels boring or contrived. Instead it is like an intricate watch put together in front of you. Even the depth of frame and questions of unreliable narratives never get confusing.

You could read the truth of the story in multiple ways because we do not truly know what happened. It could all have been Ollavdez’s dream from reading a book, it could be a plot engineered by The Sheikh, they could be evil spirits tempting him, perhaps he himself died and is in purgatory, or maybe he is just a Baron Munchausen teller of tall tales?

But it does not matter really as they are all interesting stories that add something to the narrative. Even Pacheco’s tale which we are explicitly told is untrue and does not seem to match the other facts as we know them. But it is still a great horror story that helps mirror Ollavdez’s experience and adds peril to the main tale.

Another element that has to be mentioned is the cinematography throughout the film is truly beautiful and I could have simply filled this review with hundreds of stunning photos and arresting images. Yet unlike other directors, such as Fellini, Has does not make it feel like he is doing so just in order to show his skill but to really tell a story and create an atmosphere.

The sense of the uncanny in this is incredible. During some scenes I was genuinely unnerved and unsure what was real. I don’t tend to be afraid in horror films but ideas about life and death, or the nature of reality are areas where I can encounter existential terror.

The soundtrack is also a really effective tool for displaying mood and period, helping us to be both reminded of where we currently are in the narrative and to move between humour and terror quickly.

This is truly one of the most literary films I have watched and an amazing work of fantasy. Five Stars.

The Future of fantastic cinema?

Going into the festival I worried that we would never see great speculative material on the silver screen again. Coming out of it I am very optimistic for what the future may hold.

I am not sure either of these are likely to appeal to a mass audience but they may well influence other film makers who can make interesting pieces. I hope so as these pictures show that the potential of great cinema is still alive.



The holidays are coming! Looking for the perfect gift for a niece, nephew, or other young relative? Kitra is the hopeful, found family novel that they've been waiting for. Buy a copy for them today…and perhaps one for yourself!




[November 26, 1965] Plagues and Unicorns Science Fantasy and New Worlds, December 1965


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

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

However, the incredibly cheap looking cover did not bode well. I reckon the thankfully-unnamed artist put this together at the end of a spare five minutes. But it is in colour.

This month’s Editorial, like that in New Worlds, is a report on the Worldcon held in London in August. Such is the delay in publishing. Perhaps this is what absentee-editor Kyril has been working on over his two months of absence?

As you might perhaps expect for such a prestigious event – it is only the second time that the Worldcon has been held in England, after all – the comments are generally positive. What is interesting about Kyril’s report is that not having attended one before he is seeing the event with fresh eyes. It is also interesting that much of what happens is not the Worldcon itself – Kyril’s mention of a meeting in Oxford with the likes of Messers. Aldiss, Ballard, Blish and Harrison made me quite envious. Oh, to be a fly on the wall there!

It is clear that such social gatherings have paid off- not only is there going to be an “all-star issue” in the near future, expect more writing from Judith Merrill in both Science Fantasy and New Worlds. Think of that as an early Christmas present.

Kyril’s also been persuaded to have a change of heart and include story ratings, although it must be said in a different way to New Worlds. Here are the ratings for Issue 76 (September 1965) and 77 (October 1965):

To the actual stories.

Plague from Space , by Harry Harrison

And where to start the gap left by Burnett Swann’s serial finishing last month? With another serial, this time from Harry Harrison.

I must admit that I was a little wary, having being underwhelmed by Harry’s most recent serial, that of Bill, the Galactic Hero in New Worlds. This one seems to tread on ground less satirical and more like Harry’s recent novel, Deathworld, which is even referenced in the serial’s banner heading.

A typical science-fiction catastrophe story, it is perhaps unusual to be the lead story in Science Fantasy. Whilst it is entertaining enough – and I found it to be more interesting than the tale of ol’ Bill – it’s sf for the masses, a story that wouldn’t be amiss in a Hammer horror movie. Anyone who remembers the Quatermass television series and movies will know what they’re getting here. It is easy to read and undeniably well-written, but I can see why it is in Science Fantasy and not New Worlds. New Worlds is rapidly outgrowing such dated material. 4 out of 5.

As Others See Us, by E. C. Tubb

Another regular veteran of both magazines, last seen in the October 1965 issue with State of Mind.  This is the story of Mark, who on finding a strange object in the sea, puts it on to wear and finds that it gives him the power of telepathy. The author clearly tries to be lyrical in the telling of the tale, and there’s a lot of introverted navel-gazing at the beginning about the sea, counterpointed by an almost Lovecraftian, weak ending as Mark returns to the sea. 3 out of 5.

A Question of Culture, by Richard A. Gordon

And this is also the return of someone we read last month, with Time’s Fool in New Worlds. Now with an added ‘A’ (presumably to avoid confusion with the more famous writer of the non-genre Doctor books), Richard’s story this month is about a future where men have to have a yearly examination about ‘Kulture’ at the offices of the Aesthetics Council in the National Gallery. Being tested on music, art and literature has dire consequences should Mr. Henry Shepherd fail – a visit to the Cultural Realignment Centre. There’s a point in there about what negative impact the forcing of culture could have upon the general public, and an impressive diatribe from Henry to illustrate the point. I found the thought of the National Gallery being used as some sort of examination centre a little amusing, but overall, it’s an extrapolation taken to rather silly extremes. 3 out of 5.

Democratic Autocracy, by Ernest Hill

Another veteran. This story is a political one. Child Manaton is Minister of Health in some future state in the 41st century, the man entrusted with ‘Eradication’ – a simple, hygienic way of disposing of those who are old or crippled or unable to provide a service to the State. He takes to his work enthusiastically, embodying Jeremy Bentham’s ideas of population control for the greater good, but has a personal crisis when his mistress Lilith finds herself genito-revulsive and therefore a candidate for Eradication. Rather than send her to the Cylinder for execution, Manaton persuades scientists to look for a cure for Lilith instead. The public, realising the unfairness of it all, revolt (Democratic Autocracy, see?), which has consequences for Manaton and Lilith. The story reads well enough, although it has a tendency to over-sell its own importance. 3 out of 5.

Cleaner than Clean, by R. W. Mackelworth

A  story about a man working for the Public Works Department, who has to deal with what seems to be a light-hearted protest about some man’s drains, but which eventually leads to events which are more sinister. The cause of this issue is (believe it or not) a ‘secret ingredient’ in a new brand of washing detergent. It is an unusual style for Mackelworth, whose material tends to deal with more weighty matters. This one wobbles between humour and horror and finishes weakly. In the end, this is inconsequential stuff. 3 out of 5.

Passenger, by Alan Burns

We’ve met Alan Burns before, with the strange story of Housel (in the May 1965 issue). This one is just as strange, but poorly executed. Rankin ‘Rank’ Quayle meets friend and work colleague Cilla O Dare (nicknamed ‘Killer’ – the second story this month with such a nickname) before setting on a caper. It sounds a little like a traditional crime story, but as this is science fiction, Killer is a ‘sensitive’, with telepathic powers and Rank is the muscle guy.

Together they work for Handley, hunting shapeshifting aliens. When they go to meet Handley at his workplace, Killer faints, thus clearly foretelling that nasty things are happening at Handley’s factory. The twist in the story is that – gasp- Killer is not who she appears to be and is actually a human being used to transport an alien in their body, as is Handley, who is really an alien leader. In order to save O Dare, Quayle agrees to transfer the alien from her to himself, but in the end betrays them and foils an alien invasion.

Even if that precis didn’t make you squirm, the story is a mess, filled with errors and poor punctuation, as well as long stretches of exposition that do little to keep the reader engaged. It all reads as bad space opera of the “one bound and he was free” type that we left long ago. I thought that as a new writer Burns had potential with Housel, but it seems he may have reached his peak already. 2 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

This is an issue that plays safe – lots of the regular writers from the British magazines, producing fairly typical and totally expected material. Even the serial story panders to the predictable. It’s a reasonable issue, with some variety, but there’s nothing here that I found particularly memorable. Overall, it feels like a half-hearted effort by Kyril, just back off his holiday. When the most interesting read is the Editorial, it doesn’t exactly sell itself to me.

Onto this month’s New Worlds!

The Second Issue At Hand

After an uninspiring Science Fantasy issue, I was hoping for better with the arrival of New Worlds. However, the cover seems to be an inferior attempt to replicate Jackson Pollock’s abstract expressionism – and whilst refusing to call it “a load of Pollocks”, it hardly makes me want to pick up and read the magazine. It makes me think I’ve spilt something on the cover! But I’ll try and be nice – at least, as with the Science Fantasy, it is in colour.

Like Kyril’s efforts, this month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock praises Worldcon and adds a few more gossipy details to Kyril’s version of events. There was what sounds like an interesting ‘discussion’ on one of the panels between John W Campbell and John Brunner about politics in science fiction, with Campbell doing what he seems to do and taking a view designed to stir up debate – in this case, that slavery is acceptable as a reasonable system of government in science fiction. It does sound like it was fun!

Secondly, Moorcock heralds the arrival of the second issue of a new critical magazine, Science Fiction Horizons, which is so positive that it reads as if Moorcock would rather be there than here – to quote, “SF Horizons [is] still the most stimulating magazine of its kind ever to appear in the sf world.” But then that might be just because there is an interview with William Burroughs in the issue, someone who Moorcock clearly rates as an influence.

To the stories!

The Wrecks of Time (Part 2 of 3)), by James Colvin

Straight into the second part of this entertaining serial. If you remember from last time, this was a story of multiple Earths with a rambunctious hero by the name of Professor Faustaff. With his faithful assistants, Faustaff takes on 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 time, Faustaff begins by being held at gunpoint by Steifflomeis and then held captive by a new adversary, Cardinal Orelli, who appears in a helicopter and takes Faustaff and Steifflomeis away to his camp. Upon taking Faustaff we discover two things – that Orelli has a disruptor weapon that he is clearly not afraid to use and, secondly, two of the D-Men is some form of suspended animation from which Orelli cannot wake them. They travel with the D-Squaders to Earth-4, where Orelli’s headquarters is in a deserted Gothic style church. With the laboratory equipment there it is hoped that Faustaff can revive the D-men, although he actually finds in a shock revelation that they are robots, the creation of some race from beyond the multiple Earths.

Suddenly Faustaff ends up back at his base on Earth One and is reunited with his team. They tell him that a new Earth – called hereafter Earth-Zero – is currently being created by an unknown intelligence. An expedition to destroy Orelli’s headquarters on E4 is organised, but at the same time a crisis has developed on E1 that develops into a War between East and West. Faustaff meets again the oddly emotionless Maggy White from E3, who tries to persuade him to give up his actions and explains some of the bigger picture.

When nuclear war is declared, Faustaff, his colleagues Gordon Ogg, Doctor May and John Mahon and his friend Nancy Hunt travel to E3, from where they hope to gain access to E-Zero and set up a new headquarters there. Lots of things then seem to happen quickly. Multiple Earths are destroyed. Orelli reappears in a base on E3 and Faustaff and his colleagues go to meet him again. Steifflomeis also then reappears. All of them are then transported together to Earth Zero for another sudden ending.

Gun-toting Cardinals, emotionless femme-fatales and snarling adversaries, this serial is still a lot of fast-paced fun. However, as much as I enjoyed this, I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as last month. The general impression is that there’s a lot of running about and the latter part of the story in particular is very talkative, with Faustaff seemingly spending much of it speaking to other characters. There’s a lot of enthusiasm here, but in the end it all felt a bit-one note and consequently quite wearying by the end with its relentless energy. It is very much a middle part of a story, with little resolved. Anyone wandering into this part having not read the first may be rather confused by what is going on, although I suspect that that is partly the point. However, lots of running around and incessant talking makes this 3 out of 5.

Transient, by Langdon Jones

For the second time in two months the second story of the issue is by Moorcock’s second-in-command. (There’s some weird numerology thing going on there…) I liked last month’s story overall, but I think this month’s titular tale is better.

The start of the story is about a man who seems to die but then wakes up in a hospital wondering where he is.

Actually… we discover that the narrator is not a man but a chimpanzee who has had his consciousness raised to the level of a man, so much so that he is able to hold a conversation with his Doctor. Immediately this made me think of Daniel Keyes’ excellent A Flower for Algernon, but the difference here is that the chimpanzee understands that he is going to begin to lose his uplifted abilities after two hours, and his knowing that he is losing his faculties in a few pages is both terrifying and very sad. Good as Transient is, it is sub-Keyes in quality. 4 out of 5.

J Is for Jeanne, by E. C. Tubb

The second story from this regular veteran this month. It’s been a while since we’ve had an author in both issues in a month, isn’t it? This one is different in style from As Others See Us, as it begins with Jeanne (of the title) telling of a repeating nightmare she has to Paul. They go to see Carl, who seems to be a psychologist. There’s lots of discussion of different types of psychological theory to suggest what the dream might be about – the author has clearly done to some research and wishes the reader to know that! – before the reason for this dream is revealed. It is a twist in the ending that’s not really original but I suspect one that Philip K Dick would like. I was less impressed. 3 out of 5.


A grumpy Jerry Cornelius. Illustration by Douthwaite

Further Information, by Michael Moorcock

This is another – the second – in Moorcock’s now seemingly ongoing series of Jerry Cornelius stories, who we first met back in the August 1965 issue with Preliminary Information. And as seems to be the norm now, we are dropped into the story without any knowledge of characters or what is going on. Cornelius, with his assistant Miss Brunner and some others, arrive at a house that used to belong to Jerry’s father (‘Old Cornelius’) but is now owned by his brother Frank. Jerry wants some secret microfilm in the house’s cellar, but Frank does not seem happy to see Jerry, as their attempt to enter the house involve all manner of weapons being exchanged, including hallucinogenic gas, needle guns and nerve bombs, with the expected results. Jerry also tries to retrieve Catherine, but is less successful. It’s all rather frantic and even mystifying but I suspect that that is the point. If readers didn’t realise before now, then the similarity in writing between this story and Colvin’s serial seems pretty obvious to me here.

As enjoyable as this was, putting two similar stories together in one issue may either be too much of a good thing or reflect a hint of desperation to fill the pages on the Editor’s part. 3 out of 5.

Dance of the Cats, by Joseph Green

In the January 1965 issue of New Worlds Joseph introduced us to Silva de Fonseca and Aaron Gunderson, two film makers who travel to different planets to record anthropological customs and culture. This time they are to travel to Epsilon Eridani Two, where they hope to record a legendary dance performed by the cat-like residents known throughout the galaxy. There’s a story to be told of dominant sexy cat-leaders and telepathic subservient dogs here – yes, it really is a story of cats and dogs! – which has a surprisingly dark element to it. The hypnotic element of the dance being recorded leads to Aaron joining in a mass orgy, which afterwards he shamefully feels could be seen as rape. There’s also a sub-plot involving the attempted abduction of the dance troupe by playboy Danyel Burkhalter, who hopes to force them to join his father’s circus. A story that tries to mix light-hearted humour with weightier themes, which although well-written, doesn’t quite succeed for me. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn, which sums up the story quite nicely!

To Possess in Reality, by David Newton

This is a story that begins like a fantasy story, with princes, princesses and unicorns, but then takes a sudden left turn into science fiction with the arrival of Xavier, a starship pilot and salvager. Upon Xavier’s leaving of Fairyland, through use of the macrocosmic Hyperdrive, he inadvertently takes with him a lovestruck Prince and a virginal Princess and returns to Earth, which is a war zone. A visit afterwards to the inevitable Company Psychotelepath leads to a decision that needs to made by Xavier. One of the wackiest stories I’ve recently read, but quite good fun in its send-up of Fantasy themes. 3 out of 5.

A Mind of my Own, by Robert Cheetham

This is a menage a trois tale, the story of what happens when a strapping young half on an expeditionary pair named Mike meets and falls in love with young Juline. The complication is that Mike’s other half of the pair is a telepathic Sensitive who falls in love with Juline as well. Short yet competent. 3 out of 5.

Ernie, by Colin R. Fry

A story of an unnamed rocketman on Mars who gambles in a casino, loses all his money and then is offered a job as an overseer in an etherium mine on the Moon. The work is tough and violent. He meets Pete and Ernie, two of a group of mutant dwarves (yes, really!) working in the mines. It is dangerous work, and Ernie is involved in an accident which blinds him. As a result, the storyteller has to sack Ernie, albeit reluctantly as he can no longer work in the mines. Ernie, led by Pete, manages to escape the mine, which leads to strike action and a knife-fight between some of the miners. The ending is abrupt and rather unconvincing. I was left wondering what the actual point of this story was. Is it a story designed to shock? (It didn’t.) Was it to bring to light the point that in the future slave mines may exist, even on the moon? If so, it is a point emphasised rather bluntly – it is said, for example, that the unnamed lead character is not averse to using a whip, if he has to. But it all seems a bit depressing and pointless to me. 2 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Peristyle and Letters

This month’s Book Reviews may be lacking in the breadth of last month’s reviews, but we do have some depth. Langdon Jones gives a more-than-three-pages review of Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine. Daring to go against the opinion of his Editor-in-chief, Mike Moorcock, Langdon Jones likes it a lot, going so far as to say that it is one of Bradbury’s best. Sentimental, admittedly, and steeped in nostalgia, but “a curiously heady brew” of connected short stories.

There is a briefer review by R. M. Bennett of Eric Frank Russell’s story collection, Somewhere A Voice, which is praised for its versatility and that it is generally an above average collection, although the reviewer is left with a feeling that the author can do better.

Onto Dr. Peristyle (Brian Aldiss) this month. It’s quite short, but brilliantly acerbic. I like these retorts to the science fiction community, but I’m not entirely sure Dr. Peristyle’s sojourn from the pages of the BSFA journal have been entirely successful here. Nevertheless, this month has intriguing responses to questions such as: “Do you believe a science fiction convention advances the cause of science fiction?”

In the letters pages there is comment made on the dichotomy created by Brian Aldiss’s writing (does the respondent know about Dr. Peristyle, I wonder?), a congratulatory agreement for the attempt to broaden the science fiction genre, and praise for Harry Harrison’s recent serial, Bill the Galactic Hero, which you may know that I disagreed with.

Summing up New Worlds

An issue of highs and lows. Langdon Jones’s story is memorable but based around an old theme, whilst the Colvin/Moorcock tale is surprisingly less impressive – I am starting to feel that this is one of those stories that starts with a great idea but fails to reach its potential. Moorcock’s other story was interesting, but too similar to the Colvin for me to fully enjoy it. Joseph Green’s tale was marvellously silly, but the rest are determinedly unmemorable. The predominance of Moorcock’s writings should have meant that I liked the issue more than I did, but I remain curiously unmoved on the whole.

Summing up overall

Well, I wasn’t expecting to say this month that not just one but both issues reviewed are surprisingly rather disappointing. There’s nothing really wrong with them, but I feel rather deflated after reading them. This may be that the Editors were too busy at the Worldcon to spend as much time on the issues as they normally do, or there’s something else amiss behind the scenes. But neither issue is a winner this month, frankly. If I had to pick ‘a winner’, it probably would be New Worlds – but only just.

Now that you have celebrated that event known as Thanksgiving (and we have had Bonfire Night here in Britain), we’re now on the countdown to Christmas. The shops are open, and the trees are blazing with light… I’m starting to get quite excited (albeit in that typically understated British manner!) and New Worlds are trying to make me spend money in the nicest possible way:

Until the next…



[November 24, 1965] Books from Old Blighty (November Galactoscope)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Things are getting a bit depressing in Blighty at the moment. This can be easily seen in the musical charts. The top 4 right now are the cheery combo of Get Off of My Cloud by The Rolling Stones, The Carnival is Over by The Seekers, Yesterday Man by Chris Andrews and Tears by Ken Dodd. A little further down the hit parade are the satirical songs It’s Good News Week and Eve of Destruction.

It is possible these musicians have been looking at the news recently. Conflicts seem to be emerging all over the world. The Rhodesian crisis is continuing to roll on without any solution. In Java there has been a massacre in the continuing Civil War. Israel and its Arab neighbours are continuing to increase each other's death tolls of late. Kashmir continues to be a source of conflict between India and Pakistan, and that is not even touching on Vietnam.

Peter Griffiths
Peter Griffiths, MP for Smethwick

Closer to home a bomb has been sent to the home of Smethwick MP Peter Griffiths (famed for running an anti-immigration campaign to oust a safe Labour MP) with a note apparently claiming responsibility on behalf of an anti-white “Gregory X”. However, the suspicions of the police is that the package is actually from a group of white extremists trying to make trouble. We have also seen two people charged in the so called “moors murders”, where five children were found in shallow graves in Northern England.

This air of gloom has clearly been permeating Carnell’s editorship as well. In the sixth edition, he has produced a much darker and more depressing New Writings anthology than any he has previously put out.

The Inner Wheel by Keith Roberts

Continuing his omnipresence in British SF publications, about a third of this volume is made up by Keith Roberts’ new novella.

Jimmy Strong travels on a train the town of Warwell-on-Starr after his father’s death. However, he cannot work out why he desired to come here and why he has a sense of homecoming to a place he has never been.

Whilst there he becomes unnerved by the apparent “niceness of the town”, the dreamlike logic by which events are occurring, and his recurring dreams of a giant wheel centred on Warwell.
At the same time, we hear a conversation between a person apparently watching Jimmy and unnamed voices in the void.

This an ominous tale that starts as disconcertingly as it means to go on:

The voices are in a void. The void has no colour. Neither is it dark
There are formless shapes in the void. There are soundless Noises. There are swirlings and pressures, twistings and squeezings. The voices fill the gaps between nothingness. The voices are impatient, “Where? they ask “Where…?”

This kind of narrative style helps give it a darker edge, rising it above standard small town terror stories. It was however, for me, too long. It was only exploring one conceit and doesn’t really have much new to say.

I think this is going turn out to be a divisive piece. Personally, I am a fan of weird Roberts over whimsical Roberts, so it appealed to me more than some of his other writings.

A low four stars

Horizontal Man by William Spencer

One of Carnell’s old regulars returning for the first time in a year with a distinctly New Wave tale.

Here we join Timon as he experiences Earth via a time-sphere, a device which creates illusions as real as if he was personally interacting with them. Whilst Timon is a very different creature to us, with claws, a weak spine and only possessing artificial eyes, he is able to experience the world as if he was a human being. However, Timon has been forced to do this for centuries and now finds these same illusions tedious. He simply wants to be able to sleep.

This is a strange and horrifying vision of an immortal life that feels quite unlike anything I can recall reading before. The ending is a little weak, but I will give it strong marks for originality.

Four Stars

The Day Before Never by Robert Presslie

Presslie is another of the British SF magazine writers who seemed to vanish after the end of Carnell’s editorship of New Worlds. It is nice to see him back, although The Day Before Never does not resemble what I used to associate him with.

At first this does not appear to be a speculative piece, but rather a narrative of the thoughts of a killer as he travels across Europe. As it goes on our narrator meets Elke, a Finder, who can help him with his mission.

I am honestly unsure what to make of this. It starts as a dark psychological piece, moves into a travelogue, then on to an apocalyptic thriller. But all veiled with the kind of uncanny sense I have noted in the prior two stories in this anthology.

Three stars with a big question mark attached

The Hands by John Baxter

Baxter is another New Writings regular whose stories I generally look forward to, however this tale is outside of his usual style.

On the planet Huxley a space crew are transformed in various ways. They return to headquarters in a largely abandoned city on another world (possibly New York) and ruminate on how they feel.

I have read this through four times and I am still not sure I understand what has happened or even the point of it. It is certainly a disturbing tale but if there is anything beyond that I have missed it.

Three stars for the atmosphere.

The Seekers by E. C. Tubb

E. C. Tubb has seemed to me to be one of the more reliably traditional British SF writers, with even his recent pieces in New Worlds and Science Fantasy being solid tales without being outstanding (almost every piece reviewed by the Journey has been awarded three stars). This is, however, a more experimental work from the old hand.

We jump between following multiple crew members on a journey to claim a new planet in the name of the Pentarch. Each of them have their own individual grumbles about each other and we get their own expressions of discomfort at the situation.

The prose in this vignette is so florid I wonder if he is trying to satirize the New Wave writers. It is as good a guess as any as to what this is meant to be, as the whole thing is near unreadable.

Maybe best stick to what you are good at, Edwin?

One star

Atrophy by Ernest Hill

Most work is now done by machines and people can experience stimulation through artificial means. In order to avoid atrophy, people are made to use IT, a computer system which they connect to and construct logical thought streams. We follow Elvin, a worker who seems depressed at the world around him.

The most traditional tale in this anthology, reminding me somewhat of The Machine Stops. Solid but nothing surprising comes of it.

A low three stars.

Advantage by John Rackham

Colonel Jack Barclay is head of a unit terraforming planets for colonization, currently working to do so for the planet Oloron. His secretary, Lieutenant Rikki Caddas, has the unusual ability to feel someone else’s pain before they experience it, keeping the accident rate on all projects incredibly low.

Coming to the planet are observers Honey and Wake to inspect the project. Whilst Barclay is determined to keep both his star rating and Caddas’ abilities a secret, Caddas begins to fall for Honey.

Rackham displays his usual degree of solid storytelling ability, taking typical themes of SF and putting his own spin on them. However, there is a significant flaw that cannot be overlooked. Barclay is very anti-woman throughout the novelette and the story seems to agree with him. If there is a moral to this tale it seems to be that getting involved with women will lead to nothing but trouble.

Two stars

Endarkenment

After the very high quality of New Writings 5, number 6 is a bit of a let-down. It is still a pretty reasonable anthology, but Carnell is continuing to rely on his usual Rolodex of writers, where many of them do not seem to be up to the task of producing the kind of experimental tale he wants to feature.

New Writings 7 is not due until January, hopefully the new year will bring in some newer writers, helping these anthologies live up to their name.


Continuing on the theme of British authors…


by Gideon Marcus

The Long Result

There are two John Brunners (or maybe three).  One is the brilliant New Wave writer who gave us classics like last year's Hugo Finalist, The Whole Man, and a standout from a few years ago, Listen…The Stars!.  Then there's the rather conventional, American-style Brunner whose work is competent but not amazing.  (The third Brunner produces work of such embarrassingly low quality that it's hard to believe he's related to Brunner #1 — thankfully, this Brunner rarely makes an appearance.)

The Long Result is definitely a work by Brunner #2.  In brief:

Several hundred years from now, Earth is a stagnating paradise, its torch in the process of being passed on to its more vigorous colonies, particularly that on Epsilon Indi: Starhome.  Roald Savage Vincent is a placid Assistant Chief at the Bureau of Culture, happy to catalog the poetry and sculpture of the Terran colony Viridian, when the xenophobic "The Stars are for Man League" launches a terrorist attack on a clutch of Tau Cetian visitors.  Now, racing against time, Vincent must pursue an attempted murder investigation before the Starhomers capitalize on the incident to declare their independence from Earth.

Brunner builds some decent worlds: the senescent Earth; vigorous, kibbutz-like Starhome; Amish-esque Viridian; the chlorine-breathing Tau Cetians; the nigh-indestructible, clearly superior, yet starflight-less Regulans; these are all nicely fleshed out.  I also liked the concept, which I had not seen before, that star drives are only good for one use.  Thus, spaceships must be big enough to carry spares, greatly limiting their range.

Result is also a decent who/whydunnit story, though elements of it are painfully obvious and it's difficult to watch the otherwise brilliant Vincent struggle with them. 

What keeps Result out of four-star territory is its shallowness.  It all seems rather pat and glib and comes together too easily.  Plus, everyone's emotions and deliveries are dialed up a notch, with exclamation points used with almost as much abandon as is found in comic books.

But as a read, it's extremely brisk and enjoyable, which puts it on the good side of three stars.

Call it three and a half.



The holidays are coming!  Looking for the perfect gift for a niece, nephew, or other young relative?  Kitra is the hopeful, found family novel that they've been waiting for.  Buy a copy for them today…and perhaps one for yourself!




[November 20, 1965] A fine cup of coffee (December 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

The Peak of Flavor

I mentioned in my review of last month's issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction that that venerable veteran of the genre had finally returned to form under the guidance of editor Joe Ferman.  I'm happy to announce that this doesn't seem to be a fluke.  Indeed, reading the current issue was such a delight that it proved difficult to confine myself to just one story a day.

Yet that's what I did, in large part because each story was strong enough to leave a lasting impression, and like with of a good cup of coffee, sometimes you want to savor the flavor after each sip.

So come along with me on a tour of the December 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction, at the end of which, I suspect you'll do your best Tony Randall impression of a DJ, smack your lips, and exclaim, "That's good coffee."

An Overflowing Cup


by Bert Tanner (illustrating Jack Vance's The Overworld)

Breakthrough Gang, by Gordon R. Dickson

Breakthrough Gangship Four, crewed by a small clutch of psionic women and men, is Earth's hole card in an interstellar war against the rapacious Kinsu. If they can stall the retreat of the alien armada long enough for the bulk of the Terran fleet to arrive, the haughty race will have to recognize human superiority and call off the struggle.

But on the eve of activating their ship's secret weapon, tactitian Dave Larson hesitates, certain that though they may win the battle, doing so spells doom for the human race.  Worse yet, this catastrophe seems to have been ordained from an event preceding contact with the Kinsu, perhaps even from a point in human prehistory!

And this inevitability has nothing to do with the Kinsu or human races, but chessmasters far older than either…

There are some parallels between this story and Bova's Stars, won't you hide me? in the January 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow, though not in a more than coincidental way.  If you read them side by side, you'll understand what I mean.

I wavered between awarding three and four stars to this piece, ultimately settling on three.  There's a lot of neat concepts in here, and the story makes you think, but the middle third is repetitive and the last third a bit too dependent on "as you know" exposition. 

In coffee terms, the aroma is pleasant if unsubtle.  But in the end, the value's in the drinking.  Let's dive in for our first sip, shall we?


by Gahan Wilson

O'Grady's Girl, by Leo P. Kelley

At the sunset of her life, an old teacher and her pupil meet Mr. Death and his retinue — and it's most unlike any characterization of the Grim Reaper I've ever seen.

A quintessentially F&SF-ian tale, it's delicious and full-bodied, just lovely.  Five stars.

The Convenient Monster, by Leslie Charteris

Stories of The Saint don't often veer into the realm of the supernatural. This one starts with a sheep and dog that seem to have been prey for the Loch Ness Monster, and Charteris builds it slowly and inexorably to a murder plot that may or may not involve Old Nessie.

Come for the Scottish scenery, stay for the striking denouement.  This java's got bite.

Four stars.

The Firmin Child, by Richard H. Blum

In this first story ever produced by the author's pen, an unhappy and somewhat dysfunctional couple right out of the 1958 sleeper, No Down Payment, find themselves not up to the task of raising a precocious but increasingly erratic, child.  At first, it seems the boy may be a high functioning autist, but we come to realize that his strange behaviors, almost a channeling of other's emotions, derive from something more bizarre.

Some blends of coffee have a bitter undertone.  I give Blum four stars for creating a vivid work, but I can't say I enjoyed the aftertaste…

Water, Water, Everywhere, by Isaac Asimov

What's bigger: The Dead Sea or The Great Salt Lake?  Is the Caspian Sea really a sea?  How many oceans are there in the world?  These and dozens of other hydrographical brain teasers come free in your latest issue of F&SF, courtesy of Dr. Isaac Asimov!

I kid, but geography's a science, too, and one of my favorites.  Four stars.

Minor Alteration, by John Thomas Richards

Walter Bird is plagued by nightly dreams in which he is John Wilkes Booth, and each day/night brings him 24 hours closer to his date with history at the Ford Theater.  Can he prevent tragedy?  Should he?

Richards' tale apparently sat in a drawyer at F&SF HQ for several years before finally being printed.  It doesn't cover much new ground, and the alternate universe it explores is rather implausible.  I can see why the piece languished.

Still, even if it's the weakest tea…er….coffee in the cup, it's not bad.  Three stars.

The Overworld, by Jack Vance

And now we come to the very last swallow.  Will it satisfy or leave us wanting? 

Worry not.  One can always count on Jack Vance for an unusual and interesting tale, and he doesn't disappoint now.  Instead, he offers up the first of the tales of Cugel the Clever, a (literally) lowbrow peddler of fake charms in a magical world.  Cugel is reduced to thievery when his wares don't sell, but he is quickly caught in the act by the powerful Ioucunu the Laughing Magician.  Thenceforth, he is dispatched on a mission for the angered mage, to find a particular violet lens in the far land of Cutz.

If Fritz Leiber's and Robert Howard's creations had mated, this new world of Vance's might have been the result.  Delightfully overwrought but always readable, I look forward to the promised next four stories in the series.

Four stars.

Good to the Last Drop

Do we really have a four star mug of F&SF steaming before us?  I do believe so!  It's been a long time since Mercury Press' science fiction mag delighted me so, but I can't say I'm sorry it happened.

So why don't you cap off your science fiction buffet this month with a delicious helping of F&SF?  Smooth, rich, goes down easy.  Good to the last drop.



The holidays are coming!  Looking for the perfect gift for a niece, nephew, or other young relative?  Kitra is the hopeful, found family novel that they've been waiting for.  Buy a copy for them today…and perhaps one for yourself!




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


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.






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


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.






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


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…]