Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

Book, Magazine

[October 12, 1964] Slow Cruising (November 1964 Amazing)

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by John Boston

It’s a cliche that those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.  What can one say about those who don’t learn even from what they see around them?  At the University of California at Berkeley, a city within a city in which many thousands of people study, work, and in many cases live, the administration recently decided it will strictly enforce rules prohibiting political advocacy and speech, appearances by political candidates, and recruitment and fundraising by student organizations at a heavily-travelled area (an intersection of the city’s main street!) where such activities were routinely conducted.

Let’s pause for station identification.  This is 1964.  All over the United States, people are standing up for the rights and freedom of individuals, including political rights, most notably the right to vote.  Most of them are Negroes, but you’d think people in responsible positions would realize that a few white people (as apparently are most of Berkeley’s students) might get some funny ideas too—like the ideas of direct action and civil disobedience that they have been seeing on TV, and in some cases in person, for several years. 

You’d also think they would be aware that a significant number of their own students and some faculty members just got back from the Freedom Summer activities in the segregated South, where they lived daily with the risk of physical assault and even death, and are unlikely to be too fearful of university administrators.

So on October 1, the campus police arrested a guy named Jack Weinberg—one of those who went south this past summer—who was sitting at an information table for the Congress of Racial Equality and refused to show his identification.  A crowd formed around the police car, preventing it from moving, and the car became a speaker’s podium for a crowd said to have swelled to three thousand people.  This went on for 32 hours until the university agreed not to press charges against Weinberg, and also agreed to . . . what else? . . . form a committee!  This is to be a student/faculty/administration committee to discuss “all aspects of political behavior on campus and its control, and to make recommendations to the administration.”

What next? Nobody knows.  But one thing seems to be clear: increasingly, infringement on the rights that politically active Americans have come to expect to exercise will be challenged using the tools we all see on TV every week from the civil rights movement.  Authority is no longer its own justification, and those in positions of power, some of whom seem to look to Louis XVI as their role model, will need to change their approach to survive.  As that folksinger put it—I forget his name, the one with the frizzy hair and nasal voice—“you’d better start swimming or you’ll sink like a stone.”

The Issue at Hand


by Alex Schomburg

More prosaically—back to science fiction.  The November 1964 Amazing is distinguished by being the second consecutive issue with a cover depicting a guy in a flying chair, calling to mind the observation of the Hon. Jimmy Walker, erstwhile Mayor of New York City, before fleeing the country to avoid a corruption prosecution: “Never follow a banjo act with another banjo act.” Alex Schomburg’s rather static and solemn depiction of the device contrasts amusingly with Virgil Finlay’s interior illustration, which attempts to imbue the same gadget with all the energy and drama that the cover picture lacks.  Can we say Apollonian versus Dionysian?  I thought not.  Forget I mentioned it.

Rider in the Sky, by Raymond F. Jones


by Virgil Finlay

The story itself, Raymond F. Jones’s long novelet Rider in the Sky, is unfortunately pretty inane, a hardware opera that reads as if it had been dumbed down for prime-time TV.  In the near future, private enterprise is starting to get into the act in space, and Space Products, Inc., has developed the Moon Hopper, essentially a rocket-propelled chair in which a space-suited person can sit and fly over the lunar surface, untroubled by the quantities of fine dust covering it.  But how to market this device?

The Space Products boys (usage highly intentional) decide on a publicity stunt—they’ll get somebody to fly the Moon Hopper from Earth orbit to the moon.  Who?  They’ll ask for volunteers from within the company!  They get one—Sam Burnham, a company accountant and secret space buff, who knows he doesn’t have the right stuff but has indulged his fantasies to the point of installing a centrifuge and an imitation space capsule in his basement. 

Sam’s wife Edna, who spends her copious spare time supporting the cause of the orphans of Afghanistan, is appalled, and leverages her Afghan-symp connections to start a national movement to keep Sam Earthbound.  This, and Edna, are presented in a spirit of condescending sexual oppression of the sort one finds in, say, True: The Man’s Magazine.  I forget if the author refers to “the little woman,” and I’m not going back to look, but that’s the attitude.

After much machination, with the President getting into the act, Sam goes, and his trip takes an unexpected turn, plot mechanics unwind reasonably cleverly, and he and the story are brought to a soft landing.  But the treatment of women, and the smarmy faux-folksy style in which a lot of the story is told, make it difficult to appreciate the admittedly limited virtues of the story.  Two stars, barely.

Enigma From Tantalus (Part 2 of 2), by John Brunner


by Ed Emshwiller

John Brunner’s two-part serial Enigma from Tantalus concludes in this issue.  While it’s not the pretentious mess that his previous effort The Bridge to Azrael was, Brunner has not regained the form of (as I keep saying) his sequence of smart and well turned novellas in the UK magazines. 

Here, humans have discovered Tantalus, a planet inhabited by a singular intelligent life-form with separate units linked telepathically and capable of being molded into a variety of forms and functions.  The crisis that drives the plot is that the Tantalan is believed to have made a fake human (presumably disposing of the real one) and dispatched it on a spaceship to Earth; we can’t let it loose on our planet!  (There is an acknowledgement along the way that the Tantalan appears to be studying humanity just as humanity is studying it.)

So, there’s a bunch of people confined in a small space, and we must learn which is the alien!  This is not exactly an original plot, but Brunner plays it more in the style of a country-house mystery than that of its distinguished and horrific predecessor, Campbell’s Who Goes There?, spiced up by the fact that the passengers are as eccentric a bunch of freaks and neurotics as one could wish for.

Brunner manages the latter parts of the plot capably and trickily enough, but overall the story has two sore-thumb-level problems.  One is that by far the most interesting part is the discovery and opening of communication with the Tantalan, all of which happens off-stage—in fact, before the story opens—and we learn about it only in fragments.  In that sense the story is much too short. 

In another sense, it’s too long.  The other big problem is that here as in The Bridge to Azrael, Brunner wants to wrestle with Big Thinks, in this case chiefly that technological development and affluence have left the run of humanity with a sense of helplessness and lack of purpose.  But his attempts to integrate this notion into the story are perfunctory, or worse; for example, he invokes it to explain the manipulative and nymphomaniacal female journalist who is confined in the spaceship and chewing the furniture.  (This is a conspicuous sour note from a writer whose prior work is notable for strong and relatively cliche-free female characters.) So this exercise in speculative social psychology in the end contributes nothing to the story but verbiage.

Another problem, at least to my mind, is that when something comes up that the machines can’t handle in the ordinary course, Earth is essentially governed by a tiny elite called the “Powers of Earth” (a particularly arrogant and irascible specimen of which conducts the inquiry of the spaceship passengers).  These “Powers” apparently exercise unchecked authority based on their extraordinary powers of deducing correct conclusions from limited information. 

This seems to me a sort of magical thinking, no better than (not much different from, in fact) the recurring notion in another magazine that the future will be dominated by a psionic elite, and about as plausible and useful for thinking about the future as the depiction by Edmond Hamilton and others of galactic empires ruled by hereditary nobles with pompous titles.

One might ask if this criticism is too big a demand to make of popular fiction in newsstand magazines, but Brunner invites it by posing the questions himself.  I don’t want to be hard on the guy for essaying too much, but his ambition is outrunning the format he is writing in, and he will have to find better ways to integrate them, or move on to a different kind of writing.  Anyway, three stars for a nice but flawed try.

Your Name Shall Be … Darkness, by Norman Spinrad


by George Schelling

Norman Spinrad displays his own brand of ambition with Your Name Shall Be . . . Darkness, about an Army psychiatrist captured and subjected to sophisticated brainwashing in the Korean War. He is repatriated, seemingly intact, but . . . .  This is essentially The Manchurian Candidate as applied social psychology, and pretty clever, though done in an overly bombastic style for my taste.  Still, it’s effective: three stars verging on four.

The Seminarian, by Jack Sharkey


by Virgil Finlay

And, last of the fiction, Jack Sharkey . . . is Jack Sharkey, with The Seminarian, about a guy, the son of missionaries, reared on a South Sea island without significant technology who comes to the States to conduct his own missionary work.  It’s a tribute to Sharkey’s superficial skills that his facility distracts one from the story’s complete implausibility.  Two stars.  Sure you don’t want to go into advertising, Jack?

The Lying Stones of Dr. Beringer, by Robert Silverberg


by Virgil Finlay

There’s a new byline on this month’s non-fiction: Robert Silverberg (also now the regular book reviewer) contributes The Lying Stones of Dr. Beringer, apparently the first of a series—it’s labelled “Scientific Hoaxes #1.” It’s about a 16th-Century German scholar who was taken in by a large aggregation of fake fossils, an interesting story in itself (especially in the hands of Silverberg, a much more capable writer than the usual suspect Ben Bova) and one which contributed to a shift in understanding of what fossils actually are.  Three stars.

Summing Up

So, business as usual at Amazing: a couple of nice tries, one dreary failure, one lighter-than-air piece of trivia, plus a better article than usual.  Steady as she goes.

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




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Book, Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 10, 1964] Drop The Bomb and We All Go Down (Sidney Lumet's Fail Safe)

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By Rosemary Benton

The Rogue Element

Grim and uncertain times can seemingly serve as interesting creative fuel. As the world becomes embroiled further and further in the mounting crisis between Cuba and the US, Hollywood has scheduled a list of releases this year that look both critically and comically at current world affairs. This month the much-plagued movie Fail Safe, directed by Sidney Lumet and featuring a star studded cast of actors, was released. Boy, is this one a rollercoaster.

Based on the 1962 novel of the same name (initially released as a serial for the Saturday Evening Post) by Eugene Burdick and Harvey Wheeler, Fail Safe covers the topical issue of mutually assured destruction. It is supposed to be a deterrent to war — it's also the inevitable conclusion when our technology and policy fail us.

Picture this scenario: an unknown aircraft enters US air space and triggers preparations for a possible enemy attack, US bombers are sent to their holding (fail-safe) points on the Soviet borders. Everyone of importance is called in (select members of congress, the President, Air Force command and political advisors), but when Strategic Air Command in Washington learns that the craft is merely a commercial vessel off course, the situation is deescalated and the surveillance system within the Control Room is reset.

But an error causes an attack order to be sent to a group of bombers at their fail-safe point. Unaware of the error and gravely realizing the enormity of what an attack order means, the bombers nevertheless begin flying towards Moscow with the intention of razing it to the ground with their 40 megaton payloads. Back at Command, the error is spotted; all attempts are made to contact the bombers and call them back, but it's too late.

If this all sounds familiar then you have either seen Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (or read the book that inspired that film – "Red Alert" (1958) by Peter George aka Peter Bryant), or you, like me, just saw the premiere of Fail Safe. Both films are produced by Columbia Pictures, and initially both films were scheduled to be released in 1964 around the same date! The logic of this is baffling, and understandably it ruffled some feathers. The inside scoop is that Kubrick put a great deal of pressure on Columbia Pictures in order to have his film released at the beginning of the year decently spaced from the other.

Predictably, the eerily similar plots of Wheeler and Burdick's story compared to George's story resulted in a very public lawsuit – Kubrick and George vs Wheeler and Burdick, McGraw-Hill, Curtis Publishing Company, and Entertainment Corporation of America. The suit, initiated by George and Kubrick, claimed that Wheeler and Burdick lifted significant plot points from plaintiff Peter George's book. Evidently the matter was settled privately, as the American public is now able to see Fail Safe in many major theaters.

Initial Impressions

Despite their glaring story parallels, Fail Safe is a different animal entirely from Dr. Strangelove. It's hard to describe the experience of watching this film. The violence of the opening scene, wherein a veteran bomber pilot finds himself both observer and victim at a bullfight, sets the audience up with a baseline anxiety that grows and wanes, but never dissipates. The plot doesn't introduce the error (in this movie, caused by a machine rather than a person) until over 20 minutes into the movie. Prior to that we see haunting scenes that manage to capture intense raw emotions and family moments instrumental to defining our surprisingly complex and fascinating characters.

Dan O'Herlihy, Walter Matthau, 1964

The suspense as the disaster gets wildly out of control builds relentlessly. For the audience, stuck in their seats with the knowledge that this is all very relevant to our country's current situation, there's an accompanying sense of angry futility. It's a hard truth that the general public (in the theater and on the screen) is blind to the national procedures set in place, and ultimately powerless to influence the decisions being made by the ranks of command. During the film's two and a half hour runtime this fury grew intense. By the end of the film I was actually teary eyed with a kind of writhing rage in my gut. It was especially fueled by the unbearably unfair price the Soviet and American civilian populations pay. Millions of people in both countries die minutes apart, or more accurately, are murdered. All for a technical error.

The Blame Game

The issue of blame and responsibility for a crime against humanity like the deployment of nuclear weapons is central to the plot in Fail Safe. As the cast discuss their options for the impending nuclear strike, the issue of how it could have happened in the first place is intensely debated by the characters. There are numerous people who keep saying that blame can't be assigned because the whole situation is an accident. No human hand sent the mission to the bombers streaking towards Moscow. A reset error caused the order to be delivered. It was always a possibility that the machines could malfunction. It's a risk of new technology that they could fail. As such everyone can be reasonably absolved of guilt. Absolving oneself of guilt and responsibility is a natural gut reaction in everyone when they are charged with making a mistake. But a crime against humanity? Of this magnitude? Someone has to take responsibility for that.

Even though it is explained earlier that he has no direct oversight of the checks and fail safes set in place to prevent such a tech error, the U. S. President (Henry Fonda) feels that the blame must lie with those at the highest peak of authority, and the actions he takes to address the situation reflect this. He verbally underlines this point in his angry statement near the end of the film to the Soviet premier that the blame for the dead lies with both men. Both men wield the destructive force of 20 megaton bombs as part of the unspoken detente of mutually assured destruction. Their use is ultimately the responsibility of the men in power. The President implores his Soviet counterpart, and the generals and senior officials on both sides, that they all must learn from this disaster to make sure it doesn't happen again. We don't hear what the Soviets have to say to this, and are left to wonder if they feel the same way about the shared responsibility and guilt.

But can people overcome the trap technology sets for us? Early in the film we see two WWII-veteran Air Force pilots playing pool and bemoaning the studiousness and "impersonal" attitudes of the new recruits grimly reading technical manuals at the tables next to them. Their conversation foreshadows the attitudes of many other characters. This film does an extremely good job of linking the fear of technology and the heavy responsibility of those who "control" it. Nearly all of the cast express, or hold firm to, the sentiment that technology is pulling people away from one another and will ultimately replace humanity in the resolution (and creation) of conflicts.

Another example of assigning blame to technology is in the Control Room when Congressman Raskob (Sorrell Booke) is given a tour of the new tech and an update on the emergency. He is disgusted and angry that a technical failure caused the orders to be sent, describing it as as humanity losing control of its inventions.

The scene revealing his feelings on the matter is very well executed. Congressman Raskob has just been shown how American satellites can monitor submarine movements and can zoom in nearly down to street level! He's also made aware that foreign surveillance is occurring within an alarmingly close proximity to the US shoreline. What disturbs him even more than all of this highly evolved (and very plausible) surveillance technology is that no one knows who is overseeing it. When he asks who double and triple checks the fail safes set up to monitor the machines, he is given different answers simultaneously: "The President" and "No one". That is profoundly disturbing, and Raskob knows it. He replies, "The only thing that everyone can agree on is that no one's responsible".

Final Thoughts

While Fail Safe offers a horrifyingly plausible solution to address the catastrophe shown in the film, neither the movie nor the best-selling book that the movie is based on offer any answers on how such a catastrophe could be avoided. Per the film, such an attack is the ultimate avalanche of events. It is the inevitable collapse of a shaky, hastily built structure rigged with cheap materials and patched with quick-fixes. Is it already too late to stop something like this from happening? Fail Safe asks this question, but suggests that there is no answer.

May sleep come easy to you tonight…

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Book, Conventions/Performances

[October 8, 1964] Through Time and Space (November 1964 IF)

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by Gideon Marcus

In the presence of greatness

This weekend, I attended a small gathering of SF fans in San Diego.  I'd been invited to give a talk on the first season of Doctor Who, a new science fiction show currently playing across the Atlantic in the UK.  While I've never actually seen any episodes (it doesn't air here, of course), thanks to the wonderful summaries of Jessica Holmes, and various promotional pictures and script transcripts I obtained, I was able to do a reasonable job of summarizing the Doctor's first year of adventures.

It appeared I wasn't the only one at this gathering who was familiar with Doctor Who — some enterprising fan had mocked up a full-size Dalek, one of the aliens featured on the show.  It even had a little engine in it!  Either that or the rope used to pull it along the floor was well-camouflaged…

What I absolutely did not expect was a surprise appearance from none other than Verity Lambert, herself — she is the youngest and only woman producer for the BBC, and she runs the production of Doctor Who. 

Does her presence in the States mean that her show will debut soon on American airwaves?  Stranger things have happened — after all, Danger Man (Secret Agent) made the jump in 1961, not to mention Supercar and Fireball XL5.

Fingers crossed!

The Issue at Hand

In the quiet spaces of the day, I pulled out my copy of the latest issue of IF, which clearly was supposed to have an October cover date, but thanks to problems with the printer, went out with one for November.  While this latest edition didn't have moments quite as stunning as those that transpired at the fan gathering, it was still worthy entertainment.


by Ed Emshwiller

The Hounds of Hell (Part 1 of 2), by Keith Laumer

We start on the baked desert city of Tamboula in the Free Republic of Algeria.  It is the early 21st Century, and this Mahgreb city is a latter-day Casablanca where intrigue abounds by night, and by day, warring Moroccans and Algerians drink together in an intoxicated armistice.  Enter Brigadier John Bravais, a secret agent posing as a journalist, sent to get the inside story on the North African conflict.  At first, the story reads like an Earth-bound Retief tale, with a smart-allecky agent quipping his way out of the hearts of the local authorities.

But in the middle of a battle-torn wasteland, John encounters something most horrifying — a wolf-headed, human-handed alien, fearsome and supremely powerful, appears and kills an Algerian officer with his mind, proceeding to surgically remove and store his brain. 


by Ed Emshwiller

The Brigadier is able to kill the alien, but when he returns to Tamboula to alert the authorities, he finds that the aliens are everywhere, in human guise, and with (apparently) android servants.  Now Bravais must make it back to the United States before he is captured…but who will he find when he gets there?

Keith Laumer is a facile action writer, and once he settles in, this piece is engaging.  The problem is, Bravais is a virtual cipher — his background, his personality, his motivations.  The setting is a mere thumbnail (unlike, say, the future Africa of Mack Reynolds).  And Laumer struggles with the bugaboo all writers (including me!) face when writing the first person viewpoint: excessive use of sentences starting with "I".

It may well be that this is a chopped down version, and when this two part serial be novelized, we'll get some expansion.  As is, Hounds is a decent adventure but will not be one of Laumer's enduring classics.

Three stars.

The Perfect People, by Simon Tully

Thirty years to finish a doctoral thesis?  It's possible, especially when the alien race you're studying remains stubbornly enigmatic.  The "symetroids" spend their day strolling and eating, making perfect circuits of their sea-side area over the course of several months.  They don't converse or use tools, yet their investigator is certain their is a pattern to their movements, a code to their sentience that he just needs a little more time to crack.  Sometimes perfection is perfectly impenetrable. 

Sadly, while this tale by neophyte Tully shows promise, its end does not pay off the beginning.

A high two stars.

The Ultimate Racer, by Gary Wright


by Ed Emshwiller

Newcomer Gary Wright's first work appeared in IF nearly two years ago.  Captain of the Kali was an interesting tale of naval combat on an alien world.  Wright's second work is more down to Earth, literally. 

In Racer, it is the 1990s, and auto racing has become truly "auto" — due to the lethality of the sport, humans have been banned from the driver seat, and cars are remote controlled or self-driving.  Among the sleek IBM-GMs and Volgas and Lotuses, one aging duo insists on racing their vintage 1980 Ferrarri.  But on the eve of the big race, one of the car's solenoids goes kaput, making telemetered driving impossible.

If you've read the classic Matheson story, Steel, then you'll recognize where this is going.  It gets there vividly and with great affection for the sport, but it also takes too a bit too long to reach the finish line.

Three stars.

The Diogenes Planet, by L. J. Stecher, Jr

How can a space merchant captain make a living if he's compelled to be 100% honest?  It all hinges on what truths he decides to tell…

If this shaggy dog tale is not one for the ages, there is certainly nothing unpleasant about it.  A good three stars.

Assassin & Son, by Thomas M. Disch

There's been much discussion here about how newcomer Tom Disch ranges from superb to, well, disappointingly less superb than he can be.  Rest easy — this is one of the good ones.

Around the far sun of Sepharad lies a hot world inhabited by the blob-like and telepathic Sephradim.  These seven-gendered aliens possess a particular racial quirk: when one is murdered, the killer augments their own powers with that of the victim.  For this reason, murder is specifically and rigorously outlawed.

By other Sephradim.

And so, a busy import business of human assassins has built up.  Highly esteemed and ritualized, the assassin tradition is a proud one, passed on from father to son.  But what role can a second-born have in such a system?  It's all a matter of opportunity.

Disch spins a beautiful tapestry here, creating truly alien extraterrestrials, and defining a unique culture that is as compelling as that of Frank Herbert's Dune World, developed with far fewer words.  My only complaint is that the novelette reads like the first few chapters of a book.  While being left wanting is usually a good sign, there is far too much left to be said!

Four stars…and fervent hopes for expansion.

Father of the Stars, by Frederik Pohl


by Ed Emshwiller

So far as I know, Fred Pohl is the only editor who contributes significant amounts of his own material to his magazines.  Far from being a self-aggrandizing enterprise, the issues in which his stuff appears are generally the better for it.

This concluding novelette features the last days of the man who gave humanity the stars, spending his fortune and life to fund 26 slower-than-light generation ships, only to see the development of FTL drives before any of the slowboats make planetfall.  What place can this superseded man have in history?

While Pohl never turns in a bad piece, there's not a great deal to this story.  This is a shame because the premise is fantastic, and I'd love to see a novel that expands on this theme.  Imagine generations of humans living and dying in their tiny mobile world, and once they reach their destination, it's already fully inhabited.  I know there have been stories that touch on the subject, but I don't think any have made it the central premise.

Add to that the superfluous bits about spacers grafting their consciousnesses to chimpanzees while their bodies remain in suspended animation, and the piece feels both undeveloped and misfocused.

But not bad.  Three stars.

Things to Come

Between meeting Ms. Lambert and exploring the wealth of worlds offered in this month's IF, October has started with a bang.  I can't wait to see what wonders the coming weeks have to offer!

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




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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 2, 1964] Terrestrial Adventures (October 1964 Analog)

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age.  If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Gideon Marcus

Close to Home

Time was, science fiction meant space adventure.  As far back as Burroughs, trips to Venus and Mars were commonplace, and by the '50s, authors routinely took us to the stars.

But while each week sees a new satellite launched toward the heavens, tremendous advances are taking place here on Earth, too.  In just the last week, the news has been filled with some stunning achievements in the field of travel.

In the Air

For instance, the YF-12A interceptor, a Mach 3+ interceptor capable of flying at 100,000 feet, was just publicly unveiled.  It's a beautiful, wicked-looking machine, and unlike the X-15 rocketplane, it's about to be an operational part of the Air Force's inventory.

With planes like the F-12, it's no wonder that this Mach 3 bomber, the B-70 Valkyrie, has been restricted to just two prototypes — fast as it is, it's not fast enough to evade modern interceptors!  Still, it's a beautiful bird, and I think engineers will get useful data from flying it — if for nothing else, lessons to be learned for the upcoming Concorde trans-Atlantic passenger jet!

On Land

The new "Shinkansen" train, linking the cities of Tokyo and Osaka, may not be jet-propelled; nevertheless, the speed with which it whizzes across the Japanese countryside is certainly Jet Age.  Now, one can travel between Japan's two principal cities in less than three hours. 

I can't wait for Governor Brown to build one of these babies between Los Angeles and San Francisco!

At Sea

Operation Sea Orbit is coming to an end: the three nuclear-powered ships, CVAN Enterprise, CGN Long Beach, and DLGN Bainbridge circled the Earth without refueling, the first global showing of the flag since Teddy Roosevelt's "Great White Fleet". 

Between the Navy's nuclear ships, the Air Force's atomic space drives, and the proliferation of nuclear power plants around the county, the latter 20th Century will definitely be the Age of the Atom!

And on Paper

With all this big news of Earthbound traveling, it's perhaps no surprise that Analog, the most read science fiction magazine has most of the stories of its October 1964 issue set on our planet. 


by Robert Swanson

Inconstant Moon, by Joseph H. Jackson

Or, in the case of the science article, the Earth's closest neighbor.  It has been speculated for some time that there may be some kind of vulcanism going on under the dead-seeming crust of the Moon.  In support of that are the occasional observations by astronomers of new craters, of colored puffs of smoke, and other oddities.

There is something of a breathless quality to Jackson's piece, and the fact that it appears in Campbell's Analog makes it more suspect.  In any event, it sure would have been nice if there were color pictures of these phenomena instead of the black and whites included in the article.

Three meteorites.

Sweet Dreams, Sweet Princes (Part 1 of 3), by Mack Reynolds

Author Reynolds is no stranger to the Eastern Bloc, having extensively traveled through it in the '50s (as well as many other parts of the world).  It's no surprise, then, that his stories set in the nearish future, in which the Soviet Union has reached parity with the West, smack of plausibility if not inevitability.

Mack first projected the future with his African series starring Black American Homer Crawford, who goes to the continent to unify its northern portions.  It's a flawed pair of books, but the political scene is well developed.

The subsequent series starring Joe Mauser, in which everyone is on the dole and corporate disputes are resolved by division-level mercenary engagements, is better.  It may well be in the same universe, just further along in time. 

The background is that the North America has evolved into a stratified society, employing "People's Capitalism" wherein all get a basic income and a supply of tranquilizers and television entertainment.  Maybe a quarter of the populace is employed.  Behind the Iron Curtain, the "Sov-World" has developed similarly, though the external trappings remain Marxist-Leninist.

Between them lie Common Europe, led by the ambitious French under The Gaulle, and the "Neut World", the underdeveloped fourth corner of the power square.


by Robert Swanson

Unlike the previous stories in this universe, we get a new protagonist, Etruscan Studies professor Denny Land, of the "Middle Middle" class.  His enthusiasm for researching ancient combats gets him embroiled in the new gladiatorial games, which to his great surprise, he ends up winning.  But when he tries to go back to teaching, he finds that his superior, a member of the 1% "Upper" caste, resents Land's fame and sends him on indefinite leave.

This leaves Land ripe to be recruited by the American government as a spy, providing cover for a mission to Spain to turn, kidnap, or eliminate a French professor whose recent invention could break the decades-long balance of power of the early 21st Century.

There is something compelling yet mechanical about Reynolds' writing — it always makes you want to turn the page, but it is never flashy or inspiring.  His world building is fascinating, however. 

I think, in the end, it merits four stars.  I suspect the latter parts will fall into the standard three star zone, but we'll see.

The Mary Celeste Move, by Frank Herbert


by John Schoenherr

Do you remember that sense of trepidation when you first got on Ike's superhighway system?  The panic you felt when you realized you had to navigate four lanes of traffic to get around?

Frank Herbert offers up this minor piece in which the freeway system has become something like the jet-speed expressways of Rick Raphael's Code Three universe.  The problem at hand is that people are getting on, panicking, and deciding it's easier to resettle at the other end of the country than to risk the nerve racking trip home.

Two cars.

Flying Fish, by John T. Phillifent


by John Schoenherr

On a distant planet (this is the one off-planet story), humanity meets an alien race that tells us we are limited and incapable of advancing to their lofty level.  This being an Analog story, of course it's the alien that's wrong — and limited, to boot — and anyway, if humanity has limits, those only make us better.

It's not a great story, and I rolled my eyes at the pivotal character, Captain Beefcake, being infinitely selfless and flawless (as proven mathematically by the protagonist!) Still, it's not poorly written, and I was about to give it three stars until I wrote the above and convinced myself out of it.

Two ubermenschen.

Professional Dilemma, by Leonard Lockhard


by Leo Summers

Lockhard (really attorney Thedore L. Thomas) has penned some interesting stories of the intersection of patent law and science fiction.  This one is of the same subject matter but not the same quality — it rambles, it's not really SF, and it's conclusion is a ho hum.

Two trademarks.

Situation Unbearable, by Herbert Pembroke


by Michael Arndt

Our last story, by a brand-new author, begins with the premise of Brian Aldiss' recent novel, Greybeard.  To wit, humanity's birth rate has declined to almost nothing, and nobody seems to know why.  Well, almost nobody, but the one geneticist who might have a clue seems to have gone catatonic after encountering some horrific truth.

Can he be snapped out of it before it's too late?

This one takes a long time to get going, and the ending is a bit silly (the story is presented as a mystery, but the embedded hints aren't strong enough — did any of you guess what was going on?) I think Pembroke has the makings of a decent thriller writer, but he whiffed on this one.

Two baby bottles.

Summing up

All told, this was not a stellar issue of Analog, clocking in at just 2.6 stars.  I don't think it has anything to do with where the stories took place, though — this is just becoming a tired mag whose heyday was two decades ago.  Still, I am interested to see where the Reynolds goes.

As for the other mags, Science Fantasy was the clear winner, garnering an impress 3.5 stars with its first issue under new management.  Worlds of Tomorrow was also worthy, scoring 3.1 stars. 

Everything else was pretty dismal.  Amazing is tentatively a 2.7 (jury remaining out on the Brunner serial), Fantasy and Science Fiction got 2.7 stars, Galaxy was an unusually low 2.6, as was IF (also a Pohl mag), and Fantastic finished at 2.4.

Women writers got extremely short shrift.  We only saw a 6% participation; "Partners in Wonder" indeed.

As dreary as those numbers are, most magazines had at least one piece to recommend them, often their longest.  You could take all the better than average stuff from this month's crop and fill two magazines.  Thin ones.

Which gives me hope for next month, on or off the planet.  Come space travel with me?

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 28, 1964] Revelation (Science Fantasy, September-October 1964)

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

Well, this is a pleasant, if unexpected, surprise. I have been getting used to writing about New Worlds magazine every other month.

However, whilst looking at the racks in my local newsagent the other day, to my surprise there was a copy of Science Fantasy, so I bought it. It is the first I’ve seen in a long while, and certainly the first under its new editorialship by Kyril Bonfiglioli, so I am very interested to see what it is like.


Note: Picture is not actually of the author…

I am hoping that this increased visibility is a good sign – an improvement in noticeability can only mean more potential sales. Let’s hope New Worlds can follow. I mentioned in my last article that there was a rumour about the circulation of New Worlds. It seems that readership is up, and that the print run is now nearly double what it was under Carnell. That is wonderful news, although I am aware that New Worlds not only needs to get those numbers of people reading, but also keep them.

Whilst not quite as much as its older companion, it looks like Science Fantasy has also increased its sales.

More on that in a minute.

What else has happened since we last met? Well, the rumoured General Election was announced on 14th September, to no one’s real surprise. The currently governing Conservative Party, having being in power for 13 years or so, seem fairly confident about their chances of returning. Personally, though, I don’t know. The youngsters that I know of all seem to be enthused about the Labour Party under Harold Wilson, claiming that now is the time for change. With what’s been happening socially, and the empowerment of young men and women, Wilson might just stand a chance.

Sierra Exif JPEG

In terms of music, there’s been some change. My favourite track of last month, You Really Got Me by The Kinks actually got to Number One for two weeks, which shows that it isn’t just me who likes it. Currently the saccharine pop of Herman’s Hermits is at the top of charts with I’m Into Something Good. Much more radio-friendly perhaps, but it shows how varied our music is at the moment.

Poster from my local Odeon cinema.

But my biggest news is that I’ve managed to see the latest James Bond, the one the Traveller mentioned last week in his ongoing news ticker. Named Goldfinger, and based on Ian Fleming’s book, of course, I think it’s the best Bond film so far. There’s clearly been a lot of money spent on gadgets and special effects, but most importantly Sean Connery seems to be settling in nicely to the lead role. Gert Frobe makes an admirable bad-guy, although his henchman known as 'Odd Job' is more memorable, for reasons I won't spoil here. Good to see ex-Avenger Honor Blackman in a film (rather than television) as well. There has to be more of these, judging by what I saw. Great stuff.

The Issue At Hand

Well, this is a classier cover than the one on New Worlds, although there’s not much of the ‘Fantasy’ about it. Looks like an ancient alfresco classical painting, which I am sure is deliberate. The two red dots for nipples made me laugh, though.

The editorial is an interesting one. This Science Fantasy editorial from Kyril Bonfiglioni comes across as more straightforward than the Moorcock New Worlds editorials, and combines humour with a tad bit of grumpiness. It’s also rather defensive in its choices, here defending Rudyard Kipling as a Science Fiction writer to beat H G Wells had he continued to write more. However, the editor’s put-down of a disgruntled reader in New York is quite amusing. All in all it’s a great introduction to the issue.

To the stories themselves.

The Blue Monkeys, by Thomas Burnett Swann

So we begin with something that I understand is not typical of Science Fantasy, in that it is the first of a three-parter. This is something common in New Worlds, but judging by the comments by the editor, less so here.

The Blue Monkeys is a story that dips into the well of ideas that is  ancient Grecian myths. In this place giants exist, as do many of the mythological creatures we accept as stories today. It’s a nice set up.

It’s really an alternate story of the Minotaur, through the eyes of Thea and Icarus, two young elf-like children of the Cretan prince Aeacus. They encounter the boorish Ajax, who tries to make moves on the young sixteen year old Thea. Unsurprisingly, Thea and Icarus try to escape and in doing so are rescued by the Minotaur. The twist in the story is that the Minotaur’s reputation is more fearsome than the reality.

If you like tales where the emphasis is on telling a story, I think you’ll like this one. Think of it as a more adult version of the myths and legends of Ancient Greece. It reads very smoothly, and I was engrossed until the point where it ended. I look forward to the next part in the next issue. A great start to the story and the issue. 4 out of 5.

Period of Gestation, by Thom Keyes

And then we have a change of gear,  to an odd science-fiction story that wouldn’t be out of place in New Worlds. Imagine the consequences of unending travel with a group of other men for sixteen years. This tale shows us the result. Frankly it's not pretty, although the editor prefers to refer to it in his Editorial as 'controversial'.  Mad delusions, visions of deity and the resurrection of Jesus Christ are mixed with orgies of chocolate and male pregnancy. Period of Gestation tries to combine humour and satire but becomes too absurd for my tastes. It’s certainly memorable but didn’t really work for me. 3 out of 5.

Anita, by Keith Roberts

Anita is the first of two stories by this author in this issue.

I’m usually suspicious when we get two stories by the same author in one issue. New Worlds does this a lot – it published two Brian Aldiss stories in the June 1964 issue, for example. But I can’t help feeling that surely if the stories are that good it makes sense to spread them out over a number of issues?

Having said that, this first one is pretty good. It is the story of a young girl’s moral awakening as she experiences a wider world. Anita is a young and rather lonely witch whose experience of normal mortals is limited. When her Granny insists that Anita go out of the house to see more of the world and practice her magic, Anita encounters cars, tarmacked roads and makes new friends. Despite warnings from her Granny, Anita becomes friends with a girl named Ruth and her Romany lover Jem. It does not end well, for when Jem leaves Ruth she commits suicide. In a rather Fritz Leiber-style twist, Anita finds herself in the care of an animated zombie.

Anita is a nicely developed character – an innocent who wants to do well, yet who is also lonely and wants to make friends, even if they are human. On the downside, Granny’s strangled language, meant to represent a local dialect, is a bit irritating, but overall Anita’s a nice enough story that brings to light the complications that could be created if the world of magic coexisted with the more mundane Human world. 4 out of 5.

Dummy Run, by Colin Hume

A writer new to me. Another attempt to write a humorous science fiction tale, one where Percy Winkley, a mild-mannered ventriloquist, single-handedly halts a Martian invasion with the use of his ventriloquist’s dummy. Like most of these stories, I find, it’s a minor story that doesn’t always work for me, one that is supposed to amuse but really made me groan. Although it is better than some of the similar stories I’ve read in New Worlds, this is not worth comparing with similar works by more skilled humourists such as Brian Aldiss, Robert Sheckley or John Sladek. 3 out of 5.

Easy as A.B.C., by Rudyard Kipling

I must admit that I’m usually wary of reprints, even when they are good. On a practical level they tend to be for reasons of financial expediency rather than literary merit in my experience, or in a literary sense are old-fashioned and dated.

However, this story, first published in 1912, is worthy of a read as an early proto-sf story from an author not usually remembered for his genre work. The Aerial Board of Control (A.B.C.) is “a semi-elected, semi-nominated body of a few-score persons” who control “The Planet”.

It’s the story of how a global government deals with a global crisis – in this case, when North Illinois takes itself out of the system, causing communication breakdowns and other sorts of chaos. A crack team of A.B.C. operatives are sent to find out why and, if necessary, bring North Illinois back in line.

The issue seems to be that a group of dissidents wish to have more democracy and hold public meetings, which are in defiance of the relatively benign rules of The A.B.C. because invasion of privacy – which these demands impose upon – is seen as a capital offense.

The team realise that action has to be taken quickly in order to quell a rapidly escalating problem. Their solution is to use a new weapon that makes those who hear it temporarily blind and deaf on the populace of Chicago. The dissidents are then rounded up and taken to the World Capital of London, where they are put on display for the entertainment of the masses.

Kyril says in his Editorial that “Kipling was far ahead of his time as a science fiction writer”, and As Easy As A.B.C. shows some interesting if controversial ideas – even today. The story raises the issue of what right an authoritative power has in taking actions to defend the views of the masses, even when such views are different to our own.
It’s not too difficult to see this as a parallel version of the British Empire throwing its considerable weight around. Readers may consider this to be either an acceptable consequence of being ruled by a benign World Council or regard it with horror as the inevitable consequence of accruing and maintaining control. The ending reminded me of the show-trials at the end of the Second World War, or even the more recent McCarthy trials in the USA, and not in a good way.

Some readers may dislike the use of terms such as “Nigger” and characters being referred to derogatorily as “Wandering Jews”, which are a product of their time but sit uneasily with a more contemporary readership. But there are some interesting ideas here that make you think, even when it is not a total success. For all of its issues I can see why Kyril thinks it worth bringing to our attention again.

3 out of 5.

Symbiote, by George Rigg

Another writer new to me. In the blurb George is described as “an Oxford don whose specialism is medieval literature.” However, those expecting an Arthurian romance will be surprised, for instead this is a very short story of the awakening of a form whose purpose for existence appears only to be around ‘the Creature’ – a human alcoholic with delusions. It is very short, verbose and minor in importance, but perhaps a welcome relief to counter the denser tales before it.

3 out of 5.

Escapism, by Keith Roberts

The second of the two stories by this author in this issue. Escapism is a story of what happens when an out-of-the-way, dilapidated little picture house is hired to check the rushes of a movie being made about the ancient battle of Sedgemoor. Nothing too unusual there – except that the movie is so realistic that the audience feels like it is there, with surround sound.

Perhaps my favourite story of the issue. There’s humour which works and characters I really liked.
5 out of 5.

Love Feast, by Johnny Byrne

And yet another writer new to me, but one who I gather is quite well known and popular in British genre circles. Love Feast is a weird little short-short about a creature offering itself up to be eaten by another. Odd – which may be the point, but not a favourite for me. 2 out of 5.

Notice: no book review section or letters page (which is why the Editor used a letter in his editorial this month, I guess): that’s your lot. Unlike New Worlds, in Science Fantasy it’s all about the fiction within, which again makes a refreshing change.

Summing up

I’m pleased I got a hold of this issue. Like Moorcock in New Worlds, Bonfiglioli is clearly determined to make his mark on the magazine. The two magazines are definitely different, but not entirely to the exclusion of the other.

I suppose that if New Worlds is the British equivalent of Analog, then Science Fantasy must be the British equivalent of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction – something that should amuse fellow Traveller Gideon, as I gather from his recent reports that he’s not too keen on F&SF at the moment! But the comparison seems apt to me.

Out of the two, I think that Science Fantasy has broader appeal but is more conservative than New Worlds. Yes, it is trying to break new ground – there’s a very interesting comment made by Kyril about Conan-esque sword and sorcery in this issue, for example – but it’s not as ‘out there’ as New Worlds.

This may not necessarily be a bad thing. I wasn’t expecting to say this, but out of the two most recent issues of the magazines the revelation for me is that I think Science Fantasy is a stronger, or at least more enjoyable, issue. Or at least it may appeal to a wider readership. If sales have increased, I think I can see why.

In short, I am impressed, and I hope that my ability to get issues of this magazine will continue. There are three stories here I loved (the two Keith Roberts’ and Thomas Burnett Swann’s reimaging of Greek myths) and the rest are not a disaster. I’ll have to look at a subscription, like I do for New Worlds, perhaps. The next issue will be out at the end of November.

However, I should be back to a new issue of New Worlds next month. Until next time…

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Movies, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 26, 1964] A Mystery Mastermind Double-Feature: The Ringer and The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age. If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Cora Buhlert

After a wet and cool summer, the rain continued right into September. We can only imagine what carpenter Armando Rodrigues de Sá thought when he arrived in rainy Cologne from sunny Portugal and became the one millionth so-called "guest worker", immigrant workers from Southern Europe contracted to work in West German factories to alleviate the labour shortage. In Cologne, Mr. Rodrigues de Sá was welcomed by journalists, cameras and a representative of the employers' association and presented with a flower bouquet and a motorbike.

One millionth guest worker
Portuguese immigrant worker Armando Rodrigues de Sá is welcomed to West Germany with a flower bouquet and a brand-new motorbike

Another visitor who received a warm welcome in Germany was American Civil Rights icon Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., when he visited Berlin earlier this month. The official reason for the visit was a memorial service for John F. Kennedy, but Dr. King also used the opportunity to visit the Berlin Wall, where only hours before a young man had been shot during an attempt to flee East Berlin and only survived due to the heroic actions of an US Army sergeant who pulled him to safety, a sad reminder that about fifty people have already been killed trying to surmount the Berlin Wall.

Martin Luther King at the Berlin Wall
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at the Berlin Wall

The East German government is hostile to religion, but supportive of the Civil Rights movement in the US. And so Dr. King was allowed to visit East Berlin, where he held a sermon in the packed Marienkirche and spontaneously intoned "Let My People Go". I'm not sure if the East German authorities got the message, but the people of East Berlin certainly did.

Martin Luther King in Berlin
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Berlin with West Berlin's mayor Willy Brandt and Otto Dibelius, Lutheran bishop of Berlin-Brandenburg.

Rainy days are perfect for going to the movies and luckily, West German cinemas have plenty of thrills to offer. A few months ago, I introduced you to the two series of science fictional thrillers, which are currently dominating West German cinemas, namely the Edgar Wallace and the Dr. Mabuse series. Fans of both have reason to rejoice, because this fall has brought us both a new Edgar Wallace and a new Dr. Mabuse film.

A New High for Edgar Wallace

Poster The RingerDer Hexer (The Ringer) is the twentieth Edgar Wallace adaptation produced by Rialto Film and one of the best, if not the best movie in the series so far. The Ringer is a pure delight and a distillation of everything that has made the Edgar Wallace series so successful. The balance of humour and thrills is just right and The Ringer will have you both rolling on the floor with laughter and on the edge of your seat with suspense. There are nefarious crimes, a mysterious figure – for once not the villain – whose true identity is not revealed until the final reel and a twisting and turning plot that still has a twist or two in store, even after the Ringer has been unmasked.

Der Hexer novel coverThe Ringer is based on Edgar Wallace's 1925 novel The Gaunt Stranger and its 1926 stage version The Ringer, though the literal translation of the German title would be "The Witcher". It's certainly apt, for the titular character is not just a master of disguise, but also has nigh sorcerous abilities to evade Scotland Yard's finest.

Apprehending an antagonist is cunning as the Ringer certainly requires the best Scotland Yard has to offer and so The Ringer is the first film to unite the three actors who usually play inspectors in the Edgar Wallace movies, namely the young and dashing Joachim Fuchsberger and Heinz Drache and the older and decidedly not dashing Siegfried Lowitz. They are aided – or hindered, depending on your point of view – by Wallace veteran Siegfried Schürenberg in his customary role as Sir John Walker, head of Scotland Yard.

Like most Edgar Wallace movies, The Ringer begins with a murder before the title sequence. A young secretary is spying on her boss, dodgy lawyer Maurice Messer (Jochen Brockmann), when she is strangled by an unseen assailant. The movie then cuts to her dead eyes staring at us from the glass dome of a mini-submarine that slowly dives into an underground pool. Cue the titles and Peter Thomas' delightfully squeaky theme music.

That Ain't Witchcraft

The Ringer program bookUnbeknownst to the killers, the murdered woman was Gwenda Milton, the younger sister of Arthur Milton, the vigilante known only as the Ringer for his uncanny ability to disguise himself as anybody he pleases. Years ago, Arthur Milton had given up his career of vigilantism and retired to Australia, far beyond the reach of the British law. But now he is back to take revenge on the murderers of his sister. Of course, both the villains and Scotland Yard are only too eager to capture the Ringer. There is only one problem. No one knows what he looks like.

What follows is a merry chase, as the Ringer pits the villains, four pillars of society who operate a human trafficking ring out of a church-run home for wayward girls, against each other, while three police inspectors and Sir John fall over each other's feet to arrest him. Also along for the ride are Archibald Finch (Edgar Wallace stalwart Eddi Arent), a reformed pickpocket (or is he?) turned butler, and Cora Ann Milton (Margot Trooger), the Ringer's glamorous and loyal wife. The result is so much fun that you barely notice that the plot doesn't make a whole lot of sense (but then, Edgar Wallace movies often don't) and that occasionally the Ringer has to move things forward by handing either Scotland Yard or the villains a clue – literally on a silver platter in one case.

Siegfried Lowitz and Margot Trooger in The Ringer
Inspector Warren (Siegfried Lowitz) confronts Cora Ann Milton (Margot Trooger) in "The Ringer"

Women in Edgar Wallace movies usually come in one of two flavours, the wide-eyed ingenue who will go on to marry the dashing inspector after he has saved her from certain death and the villainous femme fatale who will usually end up dead, after vamping her way through the movie. The Ringer breaks this pattern, for while Margot Trooger as Cora Ann takes the part of the femme fatale, she is neither a villainess nor does she die. Cora Ann is not a henchwoman, but a true partner to her husband and also very much in love with him. She is my favourite female character in the Edgar Wallace series so far. The ending leaves open the possibility of a sequel and I for one would love to see the continuing crime fighting adventures of Arthur and Cora Ann Milton.

Sophie Hardy, Joachim Fuchsberger and Siefried Lowitz in The Ringer
Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger) and Inspector Warren (Siegfried Lowitz) have just survived a murder attempt via venomous snake, while Elise (Sophie Hardy) screams.

The heroine is played by French actress Sophie Hardy as Elise Fenton, the girlfriend of Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger). Elise is no wide-eyed ingenue either – indeed it is quite openly hinted that she and Higgins are living together, even though they are not (yet) married. Elise probably seemed modern and liberated on paper. Alas, she comes across as annoying in the movie itself, a nagging, jealous and catty woman whose only goal in life seems to be to entrap Higgins (or "Higgy", as she calls him) into marriage. Maybe Karin Dor could have given the character more depth – alas, she was too busy playing Winnetou's true love Ribanna in Horst Wendlandt's other hugely successful film series. As it is, I found myself hoping that Higgins would ditch the annoying Elise for Sir John's attractive secretary Jean (Finnish actress Ann Savo).

Ann Savo and Joachim Fuchsberger in The Ringer
Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger) flirts with Jean (Ann Savo) in "The Ringer"

The Ringer Unmasked

While the romance subplot isn't quite successful, the movie excels in keeping the audience guessing the identity of the Ringer. The script steers suspicion towards two characters, the mysterious Australian James Westby (Heinz Drache) and pickpocket turned butler Archibald Finch (Eddi Arent), who always seems to know much more than he should. To anybody who's been watching the Edgar Wallace movies for a while, both suspects seem equally unlikely, for Heinz Drache usually plays heroic inspectors, while Eddi Arent inevitably plays bumbling comic relief characters. However, the Wallace movies are not afraid to cast against type on occasion: the heroic investigator is revealed to be the villain in The Red Circle (1959) and in Feburary's Room 13, the wide-eyed ingenue turned out to be a cold-blooded murderess.

Joachim Fuchsberger, Siegfried Schürenberg and Eddi Arent in The Ringer
Inspector Higgins (Joachim Fuchsberger) and Sir John (Siegfried Schürenberg) confront the mysterious Archibald Finch (Eddi Arent) in "The Ringer"

In the end, the Ringer is revealed to be a character no one ever suspected, even though the rest of the cast and the audience have no reason to believe or trust him. It’s a testament to the cleverness of the story that we don’t even notice this until the final unmasking. And indeed, producer Horst Wendlandt and director Alfred Vohrer went to great lengths to keep the true identity of the Ringer secret even from the cast and crew. The final few pages of the script were locked away in Wendlandt's safe to prevent leaks. When the Ringer is finally unmasked, the face behind the latex mask is that of Luxembourgian actor René Deltgen. Portly, balding and fifty-four years old, Deltgen is no one's idea of a criminal mastermind and dashing vigilante, but then the entire movie defies expectations and shows that the Edgar Wallace series still hasn't gone stale after twenty instalments.

Cast of The Ringer
The cast of "The Ringer" implores audiences not to spoil the ending.

Dr. Mabuse Returns – Again

Poster Death ray of Dr. MabuseUnfortunately, the same cannot be said for the latest movie in the other great West German thriller series. For while the Dr. Mabuse series has been very good at reinventing itself in the five movies made post WWII (plus two made during the Weimar Republic) so far, the latest instalment Die Todesstrahlen des Dr. Mabuse (The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse) shows definite signs of the series going stale.

When we last saw Mabuse in 1963's Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse, he had not only failed to establish a reign of crime and chaos in the UK, but his malevolent spirit had also vacated the body of psychiatrist Professor Pohland (Walter Rilla), leaving the poor man uttering "It wasn't me, it was Mabuse. He used my brain" over and over again. Pohland was locked up in an insane asylum, because that worked so wonderfully when Mabuse was apprehended in The Testament of Dr. Mabuse – twice. The opening of The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse finds Pohland still in the asylum and still muttering the same lines over and over again. When the British send intelligence officer Major Bob Anders (Peter van Eyck) to interrogate Pohland, Pohland utters the word "death ray" and promptly vanishes. This is the third time German-American actor Peter van Eyck takes the lead in a Mabuse movie after The 1000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse and Scotland Yard vs. Dr. Mabuse. All three characters have different names, though Major Bill Tern from Scotland Yard and Major Bob Anders from Death Ray are so similar they might as well be the same character.

Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse titles

A Game of Spies

The Death ray of Dr. Mabuse program bookNot long after Pohland's disappearance, Anders is given a new assignment – to investigate spy activities in Malta, where a scientist named Professor Larsen is working on an invention that will change the world. And that invention just happens to be a death ray. Anders no more thinks that this is a coincidence than the audience does. So he hastens to Malta, taking along Judy (former Miss Greece Rika Dialina), one of his many girlfriends, to pose as a newlywed couple on their honeymoon.

Since everybody in Malta knows who Anders is anyway, the ruse is completely unnecessary. And indeed, I wish that the movie had omitted Judy, who adds nothing to the plot except prancing about in bikinis and scanty nightwear and moaning that Anders isn't paying enough attention to her. Because if Elise from The Ringer was annoying, Judy is certainly giving her a run for her money. As with Elise, Judy's sole aim in life seems to be to entrap Anders into marriage. I really hope that the appearance of two similarly grating female characters in two high profile West German movies in the space of less than a month is just a coincidence and not a new trend. After all, it's 1964 and young women these days are focussed on more than just snagging a husband.

Peter van Eyck and Rika Dialina in The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse
Major Bob Anders (Peter Van Eyck) spies on Mabuse, while Judy (Rika Dialina) has other ideas.

In Malta, we are quickly introduced to the rest of the players, Professor Larsen (O.E. Hasse), his assistant Dr. Krishna (Valéry Inkijinoff), Larsen's niece Gilda (Yvonne Furneaux), Gilda's fiancé Mario Monta (Gustava Rojo), whose brother Jason (Massimo Pietrobon) owns the local fishing fleet and may be working for Mabuse as well as Fausto Botani (Claudio Gora), an elderly man who always tends to the grave of his late wife in a cemetery that is a hotbed of suspicious activities. We also get a techno-babble laden introduction to Professor Larsen's death ray projector, which can burn every city on Earth to a crisp.

Valery Injikoff and O.E. Hasse in The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse
Professor Larsen (O.E. Hasse) and Dr. Krishna (Valery Injikoff) in the death ray lab.

The bulk of the movie is a succession of action sequences, as Mabuse and his henchmen try to infiltrate Professor Larsen's laboratory, while Anders tries to stop them. And indeed the action sequences, whether it's a fist fight in a church tower, a car chase or an underwater fight involving several scuba divers, are exciting and well choreographed. Director Hugo Fregonese is best known for helming B-westerns in Hollywood and his experience certainly shows.

Scuba Divers in The Daeth Ray of Dr. Mabuse
Mabuse's scuba diving henchmen report for duty

Regarding the identity of Mabuse, the script directs suspicion at Larsen's assistant Dr. Krishna, playing on unpleasant yellow peril stereotypes. In the end, however, the seemingly harmless Fausto Botani is unmasked as Mabuse's latest host body, just in time for Mabuse's spirit to leave and seek his fortune elsewhere. In one of the most chilling sequences of the film, Botani is left to mutter "It wasn't me, it was Mabuse. He used my brain" over and over again, while his faithful dog Pluto – implied to be the same German shepherd that already accompanied Wolfgang Preiss as Mabuse in The 1000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse – runs off, presumably to seek out his master's next host body.

Mabuse goes Bond

The greatest strength of the Dr. Mabuse series is its versatility. Mabuse's nature as a body-hopping malevolent spirit allows producer Artur Brauner to plug the character into any kind of scenario. And so Mabuse's postwar adventures have ranged from exploring Cold War paranoia and economic fears via offbeat gangster films and science fiction horror movies to a Mabuse film pretending to be an Edgar Wallace movie. With this latest movie, Dr. Mabuse tries out yet another genre, namely that of the James Bond influenced spy thriller.

Yoko Tani and Peter Van Eyck in The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse
The villainous Mercedes (Yoko Tani) tries to get in a shot at Major Bob Anders (Peter Van Eyck)

The James Bond movies – the most recent one of which, Goldfinger, premiered in the UK on the same day as The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse, though West German audiences won't get to see it until January – are enormously popular in Europe. Exotic locations, pulpy adventure and outlandish villains are a large part of the appeal of the Bond movies and since these ingredients can also be found in the Mabuse series, Mabuse and Bond should be a match made in heaven. And while Peter Van Eyck is no Sean Connery and a little old for an action hero (fifty-one compared to Connery's thirty-four), he certainly has the required charm and square-jawed handsomeness to play a Bond stand-in.

Yvonne Furneaux and Peter Van Eyck in The Death ray of Dr. Mabuse
Major Bob Anders (Peter Van Eyck) tangles with Gilda Larsen (Yvonne Furneaux) in "The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse"

There is only one problem. The Death Ray of Dr. Mabuse just doesn't work, neither as a Mabuse movie nor as a Bond look-alike. The main issue here is that the James Bond movies present their exotic locations and beautiful women in full Technicolor glory, while the Mabuse films have always worked best when imitating the atmospheric black and white look of the expressionist cinema of the Weimar Republic which gave birth to the character. Mabuse thrives in the shadows, but Death Ray drags him into the bright Mediterranean sunshine. As a result, the exterior scenes feel overlit and washed out, while the extensive underwater scenes seem blurry and murky. I have no doubt that the coast of Malta – or rather the coast of Italy standing in for the coast of Malta – is beautiful, but in this movie it is just grey.

Would Death Ray have worked better, if it had been shot in colour? I suspect we'll never know. However, I'm not the only one who is dissatisfied with the movie, since the box office performance of Death Ray has been underwhelming so far. Opening against Winnetou II, one of the most highly anticipated movies of the year, didn't help either.

So what's next for Dr. Mabuse? Producer Artur Brauner has indicated that he still has plans for two more Mabuse movies. And the nature of the character and the series allows Brauner to forget that Death Ray ever existed and just start over with a new lead actor in a new location. The only question now is, what form will the next incarnation of Dr. Mabuse take.

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




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 24, 1964] Looking Backward (October 1964 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

The Past is Prologue

The closing of two amusement parks in recent days caused many to look back nostalgically on the innocent fun of yesteryear.

Freedomland U.S.A., only four years old, shut its doors for good this month. Located in the Bronx, this Disneyland-with-a-New-York-accent featured several theme areas, including fun-filled, if not very accurate, recreations of the past and the future.


The world's largest, but not the most successful.

Only a few days later, the Coney Island attraction Steeplechase Park, which opened way back in 1897, received its last visitors as well.


Were you there six decades ago?

Popular music also turned to the past, as a new version of the folk song The House of the Rising Sun by the British rockers The Animals reached the top of the American charts early this month. It is still Number One as I type these words.


That's really lousy cover art for such a great song.

It's not unusual for a remake of an old number to become a hit, but this is an extreme example. Musicologists tell us the song's origins may go back as far as Sixteenth Century England, although this is a matter of debate. In any case, I was stunned, in a pleasant way, when I first heard this version. Eric Burdon's powerful vocals and Alan Price's compelling electronic organ solo make this a new classic, if you'll pardon the oxymoron.

In a similar way, the two longest stories in the latest issue of Fantastic seem to have come out of the yellowing pages of an old pulp magazine.

Gimme That Old-Time Sci-Fi, It's Good Enough For Me


Cover art by George Schelling

Beyond the Ebon Wall, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by Michael Arndt

This yarn starts off with the hero making a routine survey of a distant solar system. He finds a bizarre planet, half of which is missing, cut away from the other half by a black wall. Don't expect a hard SF story in the tradition of Hal Clement, with a scientific explanation for the weird phenomenon. Once the guy lands on the planet, the story becomes pure fantasy, of the sword-and-sorcery kind.

He meets four men, one of whom is an elderly fellow with a scarred face. There is also a pair of naked men fighting near the black wall. These two vanish into the wall, and the hero rather foolishly follows them. He finds himself trapped in another world, where he encounters another scarred old man, who seems to be the twin of the first one. We also get our first strong clue that we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto, when a magpie recites a prophetic poem to him.

What follows is an adventure story, full of action, and yet somehow leisurely. The hero is captured, and becomes the slave of a seafaring merchant who treats him decently. He becomes good buddies with a huge guy, who serves as our source of exposition. The two of them act as bait during the hunt for a dangerous animal. Surprisingly, the creature becomes as loyal to him as a friendly dog.


Does this look like a good house pet to you?

Stir in a pirate captain, a sorcerer, battles, escapes, and chase scenes. The hero eventually winds up where he started, and the story ends with a confusing time travel paradox.

The space exploration opening adds nothing to the plot, and even the time travel theme could have been the result of black magic. Other than the awkward blending of genres, this is an old-fashioned swashbuckler right out of Weird Tales. The hero and his giant pal are likable enough, but their adventures don't lead to very much.

Two stars.

The Grooves, by Jack Sharkey


Illustration by George Schelling

A foolhardy young man tells his grandmother that he's going to go into the underground lair of a troll and steal its gold. The old lady warns him that he must never kill a troll. We also find out that trolls have inverted souls, so they walk on the ceilings of their caverns. (No, that didn't make much sense to me, either.)

At this point, I thought that the trolls were going to turn out to be aliens, or maybe people in spacesuits. Nothing of the kind happens. The story is pure fantasy, and the plot is as simple as can be. The stupid protagonist discovers why he shouldn't kill a troll, and learns the meaning of a couple of marks on the wall of the cave, the secret of which is neither surprising nor interesting.

Two stars.

Seed of Eloraspon (Part One of Two), by Manly Banister


Illustration by George Schelling

Allow me to indulge in a little reminiscing of my own. My very first article for Galactic Journey, almost exactly three years ago, was about the October 1961 issue of Fantastic. Included in the magazine was the second half of the short novel Magnanthropus by Manly Banister. For reasons I cannot explain, this work was very popular with readers. Here comes the sequel.

In the first novel, the main character crossed over from a future Earth to the planet Eloraspon when the two worlds somehow collided with each other across dimensions. As far as he knew, Earth was destroyed. He also found out that he was a Magnanthropus, which is a kind of superman with special mental powers.

The sequel begins with the hero traveling from the northern continent of Eloraspon to the southern one, in search of the city of Surandanish, the ancient capital of an advanced civilization, now vanished. (His Magnanthropus powers direct him to seek out the place, for reasons not yet clear.) Along the way he meets the fairy-like beings we saw in the first story, although they don't have anything to do with the plot, so far.


The charming but irrelevant butterfly people.

He rescues a beautiful warrior princess from a monster and they fall in love so fast it'll make your head spin. Interfering with their romance are the Tharn, a bunch of nasty, ugly folks who live only to kill and enslave. The hero battles one Tharn who used to be a regular fellow, but who lost his good looks when he consumed some of the addictive substance that makes the Tharn so hideous and mean. (Take a look at the cover art for a portrait of a Tharn. The real thing isn't anywhere near that big, however, only a little larger than a non-Tharn.)

Defeated in battle, the Tharn-who-wasn't-always-a-Tharn becomes the hero's loyal companion. Together they set out after the princess, who was captured while they were fighting. They get thrown in a dungeon, but the hero uses his convenient Magnanthropus abilities to travel through walls and attack their captors.


Take that, Tharn scum!

He also acquires another ally, a fellow Earthman who tells him that the world wasn't really destroyed, although it was badly shook up. They meet the mysterious Bronze Men, who are supposed to be immortal, although the hero apparently kills one of them pretty quickly. Our trio of Good Guys wind up captured again, and this half of the novel ends as they are about to be slain by a flying monster, while the princess is held captive by the leader of the Tharn.

Like the lead novelette by MacApp, this is an old-fashioned fantasy adventure with some science fiction trappings. I suspect that fans of Edgar Rice Burroughs made up a good portion of those who praised the first novel, with a comment like they don't write 'em like that anymore. Frankly, I'm glad they don't.

Two stars.

Home to Zero, by David R. Bunch

Nobody will ever accuse this author of rehashing old-time stories. His latest offering is a typically opaque and depressing bit of prose, written in his usual eccentric style. As far as I can tell, it has something to do with a being who used to be a man, but is now all machine. He, or it, or possibly humanity in general, sent probes out to the ends of the cosmos. Now it, or he, seeks only nothingness. Maybe. Your guess is as good as mine. At least it's weird enough, and short enough, to avoid boredom.

Two stars.

Encounter, by Piers Anthony


Illustration by Robert Adragna

The protagonist lives in an ultra-urbanized future, where most people never leave their homes. He travels an incredibly long road through a deserted area, inhabited by packs of feral dogs and hordes of rats. Although the setting is the Atlantic coast of North America, he also encounters savage peccaries, and, most amazingly, a tiger. The man and the cat become wary allies in their mutual battle against the wild pigs.

It was a relief to read a story that was neither corny nor incomprehensible. It's a reasonably enjoyable little tale, which achieves its modest goals in an efficient, if unspectacular, way.

Three stars.

Midnight in the Mirror World, by Fritz Leiber


Illustration by Virgil Finlay

One of the easiest ways to look back at things is to gaze into a mirror. It's not a coincidence, I believe, that the word reflection can refer to an image seen in a shiny surface, or to the act of musing over one's experiences. Such were my thoughts, anyway, when I read the newest creation by a master of imaginative fiction.

The protagonist is a man in late middle age, divorced and living alone, who sleeps during the day and enjoys his three hobbies of astronomy, correspondence chess, and playing classical music on his piano at night. (Sounds like a pretty nice lifestyle to me, to tell the truth.)

As part of his nightly routine, each midnight he passes between two parallel mirrors on his way to the piano. As many of us have experienced, this creates the illusion of an infinite number of selves within the glass. One night, he sees a dark figure touching one of his reflections, which seems terrified. Each night the figure comes closer, until he recognizes it. Inevitably, the figure emerges, leading to a final encounter.

The synopsis I've provided makes this sound like a supernatural horror story, and that's certainly an accurate description. Will you believe me if I tell you that it's also a love story, and that the frightening ending can also be seen as a happy one?

Beautifully written, with the author's elegant style and gift for striking images on full display, this quietly chilling tale draws the reader into its world of darkness and light. The conclusion may not be completely unexpected, but it's a fine story nonetheless.

Four stars.

Nostalgia Ain't What It Used To Be

So how was this literary trip down memory lane? Disappointing, for the most part. I suppose it's only natural to yearn for the things one enjoyed at a much younger age, but science fiction and fantasy have progressed, I think, over the past several decades. It's no longer enough to have mighty heroes combating fiendish villains in an exotic setting.

The avant-garde writings of Bunch warn us, however, that's it's possible to go too far the other way, and throw out the baby of clarity with the bathwater of familiarity. Leiber, and to a lesser extent, Anthony, understand this, and manage to provide readers with something new, while paying the proper amount of tribute to literary traditions.

I wonder if, sometime in the Twenty-First Century, SF fans will look back at the stories of the Sixties with a wistful sigh, and crack open the brittle pages of an old magazine in an attempt to bring back the sensations that felt so new at the time.


An old science fiction classic worth revisiting.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 22, 1964] Fall back!  (October 1964 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age.  If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Gideon Marcus

To every thing there is a season

Even in timeless southern California, we have seasons.  In the Imperial Valley, it is joked, there are four: Hot, Bug, Stink, and Wind.  Here in San Diego, spring comes in summer, summer comes in fall, fall comes in winter, and winter not at all.

Yet here and there, we see a deciduous tree start to change color.  The end-of-summer mornings have a hint of chill in them.  Things proceed in an endless cycle.

The same is true of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  Last month, I raved over a superlative issue, an increasing rarity under the current editorship of one Avram Davidson.  I am sad to report that things are back to form in this month's issue.

I think part of the problem is that, as Davidson cheerfully confesses, he's not really into science fiction.  He bounces off the truly hard stuff, like Martin Caidin's quite good Countdown and fills his magazine with fantastic fluff…and then has the temerity to complain that people don't sent him plain old rocket stories anymore!

On the other hand, the rumor has been confirmed — Davidson has moved to Berkeley from Mexico, and someone else is taking over the magazine.  I hear that Joe Ferman, currently publisher, will take the helm, but that his son, Ed, will do all the work.  I look forward to seeing what they bring to the table.

But first, let's take a look at what is possibly Davidson's last editorial effort, what he optimistically calls an "All Star Issue".

Autumn Harvest


by Chesley Bonstell

Once again, the cover is stunning — and utterly unrelated to the contents of the issue.  It's a depiction of an ion-drive propelled ship off of Mars, and it's from the book Beyond the Solar System, presumably available on bookshelves near you.

Purple Priestess of the Mad Moon, by Leigh Brackett

The first of the All Stars is the legendary Leigh Brackett, queen of pulp and accomplished screenwriter.  This tale actually began as a joke nine years ago, when a fictional title was created to represent the kind of fiction Brackett excelled at.  Purple Priestess is the author's attempt to turn a joke into reality.

It has all the hallmarks of a pulp Mars, from the thin air to the drying canals, the ancient natives who speak High and Low Martian.  And, of course, out in the frigid deserts lies an antediluvian evil so terrible that none can experience its presence and fail to gibber.

I enjoyed Lovecraft's stories well enough in the '30s , but I'm disappointed to find one presented unironically in what was once the premier SF mag.  Two stars.

The Pro, by Edmond Hamilton

The subsequent piece, by Brackett's husband (of similar vintage) is better.  One can't help but see a bit of the autobiographical in this story about a science fiction author who finally gets to see the rocketships he created in fiction become reality at the Cape.  Only the launching of the latest of them is not a joyous occasion, for the writer's child is the pilot.  Even if the mission goes well, it marks a final rift between father and son, one the writer is sure can never be bridged.

A bit maudlin but enjoyable.  Three stars.

Stomata, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas' latest short story idea disguised as a non-fiction article takes the idea of stomata, the pores that allow plants to respire, and posits an race that uses them for everything — breathing, eating, excreting.

I don't know how plausible the idea is.  On the other hand, Pinky the Blob, debuting in one of my upcoming books, employs exactly this mechanism.  Great minds think alike.

Three stars.

Maid to Measure, by Damon Knight

Five years ago, Damon Knight came out with What Rough Beast, a story so excellent that I'm reading it again in the Spanish edition of F&SF. 

Maid to Measure, a joke-ending vignette about a shape-changing girl, is as trivial as Beast is momentous.

Two stars.

Little Anton, by Reginald Bretnor

Bretnor is perhaps better known to the readers of F&SF as Grendall Briarton, composer of the recently finished series of "Feghoot" pun stories.  After reading this awful reprint, the story of an idiot savant inventor with a tedious Swiss accent and a penchant for pinching posteriors, I'm actually nostalgic for Briarton.

One star.

First and Rearmost, by Isaac Asimov

Doc A. turns in an above average science article this month, all about how gravity stacks up to the other three primal forces of the universe: electromagnetism, the weak nuclear force, and the strong nuclear force (his omission of love and money are probably deliberate).  It's all stuff I knew already, but he lays it out nicely for laymen.

Four stars.

The Year of the Earthman, by Hogan Smith

An old, radiation-scarred astronaut goes AWOL to marry a lovely extraterrestrial lass, dying just moments after he learns that they will have a son.  And then we learn the truth of the space traveler's existence.

Not a bad tale, though it makes little scientific sense.  Also, Hogan Smith is the opposite of an All Star — this is is first story!  But he's from San Diego, so all is forgiven.

Three stars.

In What Cavern of the Deep, by Robert F. Young

Robert F. Young's little autobiography at the front of Cavern is quite interesting.  Like me, he came into the genre by way of Burroughs and then Wells, and also like me, he tried making an honest living before deciding that writing is the most fun one can have with their hands — especially if one gets paid for it!

Young writes stories inspired by mythology and folklore, and while he has come out with some of my very favorite stories, his works from the last several years have been disappointing and mawkish.  His latest falls somewhere inbetween.

David Stuart is a poor young man made rich through inheritance from an uncle.  While investigating the deceased's estate, he comes across two swimming sisters and promptly falls in love with Helen, the blonder of them.  But the ensuing marital bliss is dashed by the revelation that Helen is growing taller by the week, approaching titanic proportions after just a year.  It's sort of an inverse of Richard Matheson's The Incredible Shrinking Man.  At the same time, David's wife becomes more and more enamored with bodies of water, swimming constantly and even growing gill slits.

Is Helen a beast of the sea?  An alien?  And is the story going to end horrifically (as set up in the prologue) with David hurtling five smooth stones to smite his monstrous love?

Cavern is a bit of a departure from Young's previous stories in that, though he makes conscious references to the biblical King David, this is more to obscure the plot than to outline it.  The piece is told with Young's usual excellent facility, and I found myself eager to get to the end.

On the other hand, the end is just a bit too pat, too clearly presented to be very satisfying.  What could have been a 4 or even 5 star story ends up on the high end of 3.

Empty Cornucopia

If this be Davidson's swansong, he picked a sad note to go out on.  Maybe he's got one issue more in him before he shuffles off F&SF's bridge — I'd like to have fonder memories of this phase of his career!

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




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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 20, 1964] Apocalypses and other trivia (Galactoscope)

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age.  If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)]

[This month's Galactoscope features two global catastrophes, two collections, and four authors you've almost certainly heard of!]


by Jason Sacks

The Penultimate Truth, by Philip K. Dick

Like many fans, I first became really aware of Philip K. Dick after he won the 1963 Hugo Award for Best Novel for his remarkable The Man in the High Castle. That book dazzled in its chronicle of an alternate history in which the Nazis and Japanese won World War II (which opened up many areas of thought and conversation for me and my friends) as well as in its brilliant world-building and the fascinating, multifaceted characters at the heart of Dick's award-winner.

High Castle was also an amazingly tight novel, packing a dense plot into its mere 240 pages. As many of us Dick fans have learned, not all of his works are quite so tightly plotted. I adored his Martian Time-Slip and Dr. Bloodmoney from last year, but those books tended to both delight and annoy in their meandering, nearly stream-of-consciousness styles.

The newest Philip K. Dick novel, The Penultimate Truth (just out in paperback from Belmont) fills a bit of the gap between his ’62 masterpiece and the challenging ’63 books. This thoroughly delightful book wanders a bit but always held me in its comforting grasp.

The Penultimate Truth is shambolic and episodic, but that approach serves the work well. Its main characters are living shambolic lives, which Dick depicts as full of odd episodes which occasionally have great and beautiful moments of transcendence, even in the post-apocalyptic wasteland in which the book is set.

Note that this review will reveal elements of the book, comments that "spoil", if you will, so skip down to the next review if you love surprises in your fiction.

In the future world of this book, much of humanity lives in massive underground bunkers, nicknamed anthills, in which they build weapons and medical devices for the nuclear war they believe is ravaging the surface of the Earth. When Nick St. James, the president of one anthill, makes his way to the surface, St. James discovers his people have been lied to. The world on the surface has survived nuclear devastation and has emerged into a unique and odd civilization. Needless to say, the revelation of the relatively peaceful world surface changes nearly everything.

What makes this novel so special, though, is that those revelations don't change the way St. James views his world. He doesn’t become a noble crusader for truth or a vengeful destroyer of the new civilization. Instead our protagonist goes the opposite way of most heroic leads. Instead of rebelling, he goes out of his way to allow the world to stay in its current state. He will not let the truth of his world change life in the anthill. The penultimate truth of the story is the truth behind the nuclear war. But the ultimate truth is more powerful: it is the special bond society creates, the relationships created and enduring for decades, and the lies and half-truths that are necessary to perpetuate that society.

This description makes The Penultimate Truth sound heady and brainy, and it is filled with a intriguing level of intelligence and wisdom about human nature. But it is also has the several elements we have come to expect from Dick’s finest work.

First and foremost, this is an exciting story, with scenes of high adventure, escapes and shootouts which keep the reader turning the page. There are mysteries piled upon mysteries, characters who shift and change as the story proceeds only to have them revealed in ways for which the reader was foreshadowed but for which he likely could not have anticipated.

Secondly, this is a wise and fascinating study of human nature. The Penultimate Truth is about jealousy and lust for power balanced with trust and love for family and friends. It sets stability and chaos in opposite sides of the metaphorical coin in ways few other novels of any type have explored, and in doing so shows the power of novelistic science fiction in the hands of a master of the medium.

Thirdly, this book seems to explode with ideas, from the anthills (an idea Dick has explored in some of his short fiction such as “Second Variety”) to the vast demesnes in which the surface dwellers live, to the vast conspiracies used to keep ordinary people following their leaders. In fact, it is in that last set of ideas that Dick falls down a bit for me. I had trouble imagining a government systematically lying to its people in the way described here. In a world in which leaders are elected by the governed, there is no reason for leaders to lie to their people. [Oh, my sweet country mouse…(Ed.)]

And the last element I’ve come to love in Dick’s work comes from the very end of the book. In my mind there are two endings to this novel, and in fact I won’t reveal them here so you can experience them yourself. But I’m curious how many readers wish The Penultimate Truth had ended with the deeply ironic penultimate chapter as its conclusion as opposed to those who preferred the redemptive final chapter.

Throw in some gorgeously descriptive language and you have one of the finest science fiction novels of 1964. I hope Mr. Dick brings home another Hugo next year from London.

4.5 stars


by Gideon Marcus

Tongues of the Moon, by Philip J. Farmer

Three years ago, just before John Boston started reviewing Amazing for us, Philip Jose Farmer had a short story called Tongues of the Moon.  The tale began with a literal bang: the Axis of southern nations launched a preemptive strike on the Communist Northern Hemisphere (including a subjugated United States kept pacified with skull-mounted pain inducers!), and the entire world was destroyed.  At the same time, the "Axes" attacked their enemies throughout the solar system — from Mercury to the Mars, Copernicus to Callisto.  Our hero, a scientist named Broward, is caught in a crossfire at what was supposed to be a lunar peace conference.  Together with the monomaniacal American, Scone, he manages to escape the fight and deactivate the central pain induction center on the Moon.  Now free agents, Scone finds himself the leader of some of the very few human beings left alive.  Can he knit together a new human race from the four hundred survivors representing dozens of nations and ideologies?  Can a viable culture be created when men outnumber women 4:1?

These are all excellent questions, and I'm not surprised that Farmer decided to expand his novelette into a full novel.  Unfortunately, what could have been a fascinating sociological study is subverted in favor of a fairly pedestrian adventure story and a series of treasure hunts.

In the expanded portion of the book, Broward is dispatched to the ruined Earth to find a planet-destroying bomb.  The plan is to destroy the last significant Axis presence in the system, their colony on Mars, so that the Moon is safe.  But Broward recognizes paranoia when he sees it, and he is reluctant to carry out Scone's plan, which will cause yet more decimation of the human population.  He also, understandably so, has issues with Scone's plan to condemn the remaining women to forced multiple marriages.  And so begins a merry excursion — to the caves of Siberia, the undersea domes of the Mediterranean, the vastness of outerspace, the tunnels of Mars.  Tongues never stops to take a breath, and each sequence is more or less self-contained.  The most interesting bit involves the Siberian expedition, when Broward takes along as co-pilot the last Jew in the world (and probably the last person of Japanese extraction, too).  In this section are tantalizing hints of what the story might have been.  Alas, all development is tossed for more running and chasing.

It has been said of Farmer that he is "always almost good", which is not nearly as nice as "almost always good."  This latest book continues the trend.  Someday he'll make a masterpiece.  Until then, he's just a decent writer who can never quite deliver.

3.5 stars


by Rosemary Benton

Ace Double: "The Million Year Hunt" by Kenneth Bulmer and "Ships to the Stars" by Fritz Leiber

Ace Double novels are always a treat. Even though they are largely reprints of stories from the 1950s I always feel like I have rediscovered something special when I pick up one of these books at the bookstore. This month's release features titles by veteran authors Fritz Leiber and Kenneth Bulmer. Given the styles of each author I was intrigued to see how they would read back to back. Sadly to say, this was not one of the better lineups from Ace.

"The Million Year Hunt" by Kenneth Bulmer

Kenneth Bulmer's contribution to this month's Ace Double follows the adventures of a scrap yard worker turned savior of the human race. The story begins as we drop in on the aftermath of a prank pulled by protagonist Arthur Ross Carson, a mischievous young colonist on a back-water planet with few prospects. In short order he finds himself contending with the unjust killing of his fiancé Lucy, startling news of his parentage, and the piteous million-year mission of an alien conscious that enters his body. This is a lot to unwrap within less than 150 pages, and that's not even the full extent of the plot. Bulmer goes on to reveal a slew of converging political schemes to control the universe, including a program to selectively breed a successor to lead the intergalactic police force known as the Galactic Guard.

I felt like I was reading a much larger story that had been brutally and awkwardly chopped down to fit a page count limit. Up to the very last sentence the story is rife with major plot points that are not resolved, gawky transitions of emotion within the cast of characters, and plot twists that feel last minute and cheap. I can't overstate the issue that lies with the jerking sensation the reader gets as the story shifts from scene to scene. So awkward and halting was the pace that I just couldn't believe Bulmer was the one to give it a final proof read before sending it to publication. There was just no way a man as prolific as him could have been satisfied with this story, a public presentation by which he would be judged as a writer, going to press in the state it's in.

If "The Million Year Hunt" is indeed the butchered result of a much larger manuscript, then the most tragic victims of its murder were the emotional transitions of the characters and the quirky, adventurous and lighthearted atmosphere that was so desperately trying to take hold. The easy and funny dialogue between Arthur Ross Carson and the alien conscious that strapped itself to him nervous system is very entertaining to read. Their banter actually comprises some of the best scenes in this story. Instead of clunky exposition their conversations dynamically teased out information on their respective pasts, personalities, and surroundings.

If only Bulmer could have let the characters be themselves stumbling through space on adventures loosely tied to an end goal, specifically Carson's mission of revenge and his origin as the "savior" of the Galactic Guard, then this would have been a fantastic story. Unfortunately in its current state "The Million Year Hunt" is not a story that should have made it to print.

[Apparently, The Million Year Hunt is a fix-up of sorts, created from Scarlet Denial in Science Fiction Adventures No. 26, and Scarlet Dawn in Science Fiction Adventures No. 28. Both came out in 1962, published in the United Kingdom. The text is unchanged from the originals. (ed)]

"Ships to the Stars" by Fritz Leiber

On the other side of this Ace Double is a collection of six short stories by power house actor and novelist Fritz Leiber. In contrast to Bulmer's story, Leiber's "Dr. Kometevsky's Day", "The Big Trek", "The Enchanted Forest", "Deadly Moon", "The Snowbank Orbit", and "The Ship Sails at Midnight" are all well structured with tight plots and developed characters. Leiber's writing also demonstrates a more measured understanding of how to maintain the flow of a story. The tendency of his characters to repeatedly ponder the effects fear has on them makes them fragile, fallible, and very true to the duality of human nature. They want to know and see everything, but there are limits to what they can understand and what their eyes have access to. Leiber's inclusion of these relatable and basic human failings forms a tension in his stories that would be otherwise missing if he had held full faith in humanity's ability to rationalize everything with science.

The strongest short stories in this small selection were "The Big Trek" and "The Ship Sails at Midnight". In these two tales the reader can really see Leiber's deep connection with the gothic authors whom he draws inspiration from. In "The Big Trek" Leiber writes from the first-person perspective of a man joining a feverish march of bizarre beings from across the universe. The employment of fluctuating space and loose concepts of time's passage echoes William Hope Hodgson's "The House on the Borderland" (1908) and pretty much any piece by Edgar Allan Poe. The narrator's awe and trepidation touched with excitement are also very similar to Arthur Machen's inner voice within "The White People" (1904).

Like H. P. Lovecraft and Lord Dunsany, Leiber's strongest talent as a writer is keeping his characters grounded by the weighty truth that humans are far from the most powerful forces in the universe. All of Leiber's stories have humans sprinting to stay out of the way of some larger, stronger entity charging through with little interest in our species’ plight. "The Ship Sails at Midnight" best encapsulates this with its accompanying message that humans have such potential but are so readily self-sabotaging.

The joy of reading Fritz Leiber’s short stories greatly made up for my disappointment in Kenneth Bulmer’s novella. Fast paced, thoughtful and touching, they make this Ace Double a worthwhile purchase. I will absolutely be looking forward to reading more of his work in the future.

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Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 18, 1964] Split Personality (October 1964 IF)

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[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age.  If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)


by Gideon Marcus

Which one is it?

It's election season, and the commercials are already out in force.  Maybe it's just my neighborhood, but it seems that LBJ is crowding the airwaves a lot more than Barry Goldwater at this point.  One effective ad notes several times the GOP candidate has made mutually contradictory statements and asks "How is a Republican supposed to note on his ballot which Barry he's voting for?"

This piece is a pretty low blow.  Make no mistake — there's no way I'm voting for a reactionary this November, but if there's one thing one can say for Barry, he's consistent.  I'd rather see some positive messaging.  Lord knows LBJ has plenty of successes to run on.

But while Goldwater's split personality may all be a Madison Avenue construct, the schizophrenic nature of IF, Worlds of Science Fiction magazine is very real.  IF has always been Galaxy's experimental little sister, the place where the more offbeat stories, the lesser known writers are featured.  As a result, it is the more variable mag, with higher highs and lower lows, often within the same issue. 

This dual nature is perfectly represented in microcosm with the latest October 1964 issue:


by Paul E. Wenzel (note the obscured "September 1964")

The first thing you might notice is that the issue was clearly intended to have a September date.  IF went to a monthly schedule in August (after years as a bi-monthly), but there was trouble at the printers, and things got delayed.

When the issue finally came, it was very much a mixed bag, with trouble appearing right from the start:

The Castle of Light, by Keith Laumer


by Jack Gaughan

Within the pages of IF, Keith Laumer's name is inextricably linked with that of his creation, Retief, that sardonic super-spy in diplomat's clothing.  What began as a more tongue-in-cheek version of Harrison's "Stainless Steel Rat" is becoming a tired series of retreads.  This particular story involves an invasion by the squamous Groaci, who take legal possession of a planet by landing 50,000 troops in cities abandoned by the native populace during a global religious ceremony.  The piece rambles, and the jokes — like the characters — are flatter than usual.

Two stars.

Mad Man, by R. A. Lafferty

The ever-whimsical Lafferty offers up a piece about androids who only attain genius capability when given their daily dose of anger enzyme.  Said extraction is provided by a group of human individuals kept thoroughly miserable through poor working conditions and constant aggravation by paid actors.  But when one android develops a kinship for her donor, the formerly angry man's heart melts, and his biochemistry becomes useless.  Can a replacement be found?

I imagine some will like this story.  I found it contrived, cruel, and rather pointless.

Two stars.

Gremmie's Reef, by Hayden Howard


by Virgil Finlay

In which a teenage surfer is delighted to find a perfect wave break on a formerly unpromising beach, thanks to a new reef.  Turns out the reef is an alien biological probe, and as might be expected, it's not a friendly one.

The surfing scenes are nicely rendered, but the third-person omniscient viewpoint, the shrieky characters, and the Twilight Zone ending all suggested a young novice of a writer.  Imagine my surprise when I checked my notes and found that Hayden Howard has been writing for more than a decade, and I've even covered one of his stories before!

Nice try, but it's another two.

Rescue Mission, by Kit Reed

Science teacher goes on sabbatical to the mountains and finds his cottage besieged with bugs.  Turns out they are the servants of Mavna, the alien beauty who resides one cottage over, and she is using the crawlies to send the prof a message: (paraphrased) "Help me fend off these three oafs I'm staying with so I can sacrifice myself for the operation of our interstellar matter transmitter!"

Reed, an author I'm quite fond of, has written exclusively for F&SF since she started half a decade ago.  This rather silly piece would fit better in that magazine.  That it wasn't published there is not surprising — it's probably the weakest story Reed has produced.

Two stars.

Monster Tracks, by Robert E. Margroff

The last piece of short fiction in the issue is by a genuinely new author, about a boy raised in a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by aliens.  They came in "peace", disguised as tourists, bringing gifts and cute pets, but it was all a ploy.  Their gifts were bombs, their luggage was guns, and their pets are poison.  Our young protagonist is almost taken in by a cute rabbit-like creature before being saved by his savvy uncle.

Not much to this one.  Two stars.

Farnham's Freehold (Part 3 of 3), by Robert A. Heinlein


by Jack Gaughan

"Where's the split?" I hear you ask.  So far, this issue has been a solid disappointment — how could it be a mixed bag?

Well, editor Fred Pohl got a ringer.

Robert Heinlein is one of the masters of the field with dozens of classic titles to his name.  To be sure, his record has been tarnished a bit lately by such substandard works as Stranger in a Strange Land and Podkayne of Mars.  Moreover, the first installment of his latest serial, Farnham's Freehold, got off to a stultifying start.

But then it got better.  In Part 1, Hubert Farnham and his family (including his house-servant and his side-girlfriend) are whisked thousands of years into the future thanks to a new Russkie bomb.  That first bit reads like a cross between a libertarian screed and the Boy Scout Handbook.  But in Part 2, we meet the inheritors of the atomically ravaged Earth, the dark-skinned peoples of Africa and India.  Hugh and co. are made privileged slaves — except for Joseph, Hugh's servant.  His Black skin makes him a de facto member of the ruling caste, and he is afforded the privileges thereof.  We learn a lot about the new society, and this section is genuinely interesting.

Part 3 more-or-less sticks the landing.  It is all about Hugh's attempt to escape his gilded cage along with mistress Barbara and their newly born twin sons.  While his first attempts end in failure (and this part is not unlike the middle section of Have Spacesuit Will Travel — thrilling but ultimately pointless), Hugh's kindly master ends up sending him and his family back in time to just before the Bomb goes off, and they have a second chance at life.

It's a thrilling page-turner, and I liked the central message: decadence and depravity have nothing to do with color or national origin.  It all boils down to Lord Acton's dictum, "Power corrupts".  I especially appreciated that the story recognized the unequal status of Joseph, and does not condemn him for throwing his lot in with America's new rulers.  Whatever loyalty Joe had to Hugh, he has found his Earthly paradise — unfair to others, perhaps, but wasn't that just after a lifetime of discrimination?  Hugh is dismayed, but not surprised.  After all, whatever his libertarian aspirations, he was part of the problem.

I'd give this last part five stars except that the ending is awfully abrupt.  All told, I think the novel earns an aggregate of 3.75 stars and, if you can get through the beginning, suggests a return to form of the author.

Making Whole

This latest issue of IF reminds me of Analog a few years back, when the serials were generally good and the other material sub-par (I note with bemusement that while Heinlein's Farnham would fit stylistically in Analog, the editor of said mag would never allow a storyline where the Whites are slaves…) When all is computed, the magazine actually scores above the 3-star middle, which tells you how good the second half is compared to the first.

In any event, the vice of a split-personality magazine is also its virtue: if one can always count on one or more stories not being very good, one can also expect at least one nugget of gold. 

And wasn't my entire state founded on the search for such nuggets?

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