Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

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[September 16, 1964] The Waiting Game (November 1964 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Patience is a Virtue

If you're like me, you look forward to the arrival of the latest issues of your favorite magazines at the local newsstand. You carefully calculate the exact day they'll show up and get there ahead of time, eager to meet the delivery person who loads all the publications off the truck. There they are, ready for the metal wires that hold them together in bundles to come off so they can go on display.

You may understand my consternation, then, when Worlds of Tomorrow failed to make an appearance on the scheduled date last month. Since it's a relatively new magazine, I figured that, like so many other science fiction publications, it was out of business.

Imagine my delight when I saw it again, thirty days later. Why the delay? Let me hand the microphone to editor Frederik Pohl, who can explain the situation better than I can, and who will also offer us a preview of the next issue.

Thanks for clearing that up, Fred. Now let me take a look at the contents of the current issue.

Better Late Than Never


Cover art by George Schelling

Killer!, by Robert Ray


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

Taking up one-third of the magazine is a novella by an author new to me. The gentleman with the gun, pictured above, is trained as an assassin by the taller man standing next to him, his half-brother. There is no love lost between the two. The intended target is the newly arisen dictator of a planet populated by very human aliens. (The only important difference between the two species is that the aliens are all short, light-skinned, and fair-haired. In this future, almost all human beings are tall, dark-haired, and have black or dark brown skin. Our antihero happens to be one of the rare persons who resemble the aliens.)

The agency for which the half-brothers work believes that the dictator poses a threat to Earth, even though his species does not yet have space travel. If that seems paranoid, well, so do nearly all the characters in this grim story.


The target.

The assassin's mission is to disguise himself as an alien and use a local weapon to kill the dictator, so Earth won't be blamed. What he doesn't know, but the reader does, is that the agency planted a hypnotic suggestion in his brain, so that he will kill himself immediately after the assassination.


Surfing down to the planet.

As soon as he arrives on the alien world, things go wrong. The dictator's forces are far more powerful and technologically advanced than the agency thought, thanks to the secret intervention of another species of alien. (They aren't quite so human, thank goodness, so we can keep track of who's doing what.)


The hero in typical form, about to knock out an innocent bystander.

What follows is an extended series of captures, escapes, chases, and violent battles. The protagonist, formerly ready to murder without qualms, slowly develops a conscience after he kills several aliens.


Take that, alien scum!

He eventually figures out that he's been set up as a sacrificial lamb, and tries to carry out his mission while staying alive. It all leads up to a very dark ending.

This is a fast-moving, action-packed spy adventure, with plenty of twists and turns in the plot. It's a quick read for its length, although some of the author's sentences are a little clumsy. The story's cynical view of espionage reminds me of last year's bestselling novel The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, by John le Carré, although I certainly wouldn't say it's as good. Worth reading, but not a classic by any means.

Three stars.

Natural History of the Kley, by Jerome Bixby

This mock article deals with microscopic intelligent beings who live on animal hairs. Humans only find out about them after they've been wiped out by a substance that kills all animal parasites on Earth. The mood changes from black comedy and satire to sheer silliness, as the author treats us to a series of groan-inducing puns. It's inoffensive, and not as bad as a Feghoot, but that's about the best I can say.

Two stars.

The Long Way, by A. Bertram Chandler and Susan Chandler


Illustration by Norman Nodel

A male space explorer and a female artist at a nudist colony, not quite romantically involved, meet a fellow who believes in dowsing. He's able to demonstrate the procedure successfully. (It seems that dowsing works better when you're naked.) Convinced that there's something to it, the spaceman does his own dowsing, in order to find a missing earring for the artist. Because the earring is shaped like a star, and the man is thinking about interstellar travel at the time, they wind up very far from home indeed. They are able to make their way back to Earth by doing some more dowsing, but things don't turn out the way they hope.

This collaboration between a well-known author and his more obscure wife isn't very convincing, as you can probably tell from the above synopsis. The theme of dowsing makes me wonder if it was intended for the pages of Analog. I think even John W. Campbell, Jr., would reject the premise as too unbelievable. The twist ending adds another layer of implausibility.

Two stars.

The Kicksters, by J. T. McIntosh


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

A group of thrill-seeking teenagers, the sons and daughters of the wealthy, play dangerous games of chicken to see who's the bravest. Their latest competition, as shown above, involves free-falling from a great height while wearing a jet pack. The trick is to turn on the jets at the last possible moment, in order to avoid being smashed into a pulp.

The boldest of the gang is a girl named Peach. Bored with risking her life in the usual ways, she decides on an even more hazardous prank. She and her boyfriend, who tries to convince her to drop the whole thing all the way through the story, travel to the Moon under false identities. She sneaks into the main jet of a spacecraft ready to return to Earth. The ship doesn't use the main jet until it's about to land, so she'll be able to survive inside a spacesuit. The joke is to force the ship to turn around and land on the Moon again. (It doesn't need to use the main jet in the lesser gravity of the satellite.)


Peach, approaching the ship unseen.

The captain of the spacecraft hates spoiled brats, particularly female ones. Since he doesn't have absolute proof that anyone is inside the main jet, even though Peach's boyfriend, as planned, lets everybody know, he refuses to delay his journey to Earth. The second-in-command, desperate to save the girl's life, comes up with various plans, but all of them prove to be impossible. It seems as if Peach is doomed.

The sense that the laws of physics are conspiring to kill the heroine reminds me of the famous story The Cold Equations by Tom Godwin. The story creates genuine suspense as to whether the protagonist is going to live or die. I'll admit that the situation is a bit contrived, but I have to give the author credit for thinking up all possible objections to the premise, and answering them in a logical fashion. Peach, although definitely foolhardy and selfish, also manages to be appealing in some ways. The captain and the second-in-command also turn out to be more complex characters than they might seem at first.

Four stars.

The Carson Effect, by Richard Wilson


Illustration by Norman Nodel

At first, this story seems to be nothing but a series of unrelated vignettes. A newspaper reporter struggles over the writing of an article about something that hasn't happened yet. A man, desperate for money to pay for his wife's operation, makes a feeble attempt at robbing a bank, only to have the teller give him much more cash than he demands, without a word of argument. A woman nervously asks her employer for a small amount of money to make up for the taxi she had to take to perform an errand, and winds up getting hundreds of dollars and the rest of the day off. A six-year-old boy thinks he can buy an extremely expensive brooch for his mother from Tiffany's, and the clerk gladly sells it to him for one dollar. The President of the United States resigns his office, turning it over to the Vice President, who is obviously unfit for the job.

We return to the reporter and discover the reason for these strange events, which I won't reveal here. I also won't talk about the ironic ending, which changes everything that happened before. Suffice to say that the story looks at a very big event from several very small perspectives, and does so in an effective manner.

Four stars.

The Fruit of the Tree, by Lester del Rey

This issue's non-fiction article speculates about the possibility of altering the genetic characteristics of living organisms. By 1980, the author believes, we'll be able to produce fruits and vegetables that will stay edible, without refrigeration, for many years, and even have flavors previously unknown. We'll be able to get edible nuts, maple and/or latex sap, and lumber, better than any used today, from a single tree. New kinds of animals will appear, supplying carnivores with novel cuts of meat. (Vegetarians, like myself, will have plants that taste exactly like meat. I'm not sure I want that.) Scientists will create replacement organs, grown from scratch, for those suffering from disease.

The author lets his imagination run wild, coming up with a lot of ideas for science fiction stories, if nothing else. I doubt I'll see all these wonders a mere sixteen years from now, but I could be wrong. Even if it's hard to believe everything this essay says, it makes for interesting reading.

Three stars.

Somewhere in Space, by C. C. MacApp


Illustrations by John Giunta

Some time before this story begins, people found alien teleportation technology on Mars. Since then, it's been used routinely, with few problems. Up until now, that is. Without explanation, folks without close relatives or friends disappear into thin air after using the teleportation device. The protagonist is a technician who accepts the dangerous but extremely lucrative assignment of figuring out what's going on. Not only does he know as much about the technology as any human being can, he's another loner, expected to vanish when he goes inside the machine.

He winds up on an unknown planet, naked and without any of his equipment. There to meet him is a very human alien, a young woman whose only differences from a human female are the fact that she has no thumbs, and that her skin is an odd color. She's one of the slaves that another group of aliens kidnap from all over, including Earth. (Our hero is very lucky that the slavers aren't around to grab him. They happen to be at some kind of celebration, getting drunk.)

With the help of the woman, the protagonist gets away from the slave facility, facing the challenge of surviving on a strange, alien world. Things get really weird when he reaches a mountain, which is really an ancient, all-powerful being, able to take on any form it pleases.


The ball of light the mountain uses to communicate with the man.

After many adventures, and falling in love with the alien woman, the hero battles the slavers against seemingly impossible odds, using only simple weapons like rocks and wooden spears. Can he possibly defeat the Bad Guys, return to Earth, and win the Girl? Well, maybe with a little help from a deus ex machina, in the form of a god-like mountain-being.


Chaos at the slave camp.

You might be able to tell from my tone that I found it hard to take this wild adventure seriously, although it's certainly not intended as a comedy. The nonstop mishaps that the hero faces kept me reading, even if I didn't believe a second of it. The mountain, alien, god, or whatever you want to call it, is the most interesting character. Although it reminds me of the lead novella in some ways, it's got a much more optimistic mood.

Three stars.

Worth Waiting For?

So, did the delay in receiving this issue have any effect on my reaction to it? Did I have high expectations that it failed to meet? Or, did I assume that the extra month would sour me on the magazine, so that I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy it?

None of the above, really. This is a typical issue. A couple of decent, if not great, adventure yarns; a couple of good stories; a couple of poor stories; and a so-so article. Good enough for half a buck, I'd say.

I guess biding my time until it appeared paid off. It's better than, say, waiting around for somebody who never shows up.

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[14th September, 1964] Hold Off The Execution (Doctor Who: The Reign Of Terror [Part 2]))

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By Jessica Holmes

Put away the guillotine, we don’t need to be chopping anyone's head off for boring me. Not today, at least. The Reign Of Terror doesn’t magically turn into an oeuvre of magnificence at the halfway mark, but it did turn out decent in the end.

THE TYRANT OF FRANCE

Apologies everyone, my television set is playing up again, so there’s a chance that I’ll have missed some details in this episode, but hopefully it won’t be anything too important.

So, in the previous episode of The Reign Of Terror the Doctor got himself a pretty fantastic hat and managed to blag his way into a meeting with Robespierre, so they can talk about how fantastic his hat is. Or lists of people whose heads have been chopped off, but I think the hat should take precedence.

Lemaitre gives Robespierre the execution list.

So, how does this meeting go? Entertainingly. Not one to hold his tongue, the Doctor immediately starts debating a hostile and suspicious Robespierre on the benefits of his Reign Of Terror. I rather admire his guts. Come to think of it, it’d be pretty funny to see the Doctor popping about through time to give tyrants a good scolding. As for Robespierre, he’s showing signs of paranoia, convinced that even his allies are plotting his downfall. Well, Max, if you are going to insist on guillotining everyone who so much as looks at you funny, what do you expect?

Oh, and we actually have a name for the other man, now. The one the Doctor came with. He’s called Lemaitre. Translates to ‘the master’. Quite a good name for a villain, I’d say.

Back at the maison, Susan is still feeling poorly, the poor love, but she’s brought some brandy, so she’ll feel even worse in a second! According to Barbara, a short while earlier Susan kicked off all her clothes and was found shivering upstairs, which sounds to me like she’s suffering from hypothermia. Leon is wary of calling a physician for her (after all, we only know one Doctor we can trust), but after some thought he decides to risk it for her. Good old Leon.

Jules carrying a body through the window

Outside the maison, Jules and Jean (did I introduce Jean last time? I can’t recall. Introducing: Jean) are smuggling a body into the house. Just when we start to worry what sort of people Barbara and Susan have fallen in with, they pull back the tarp covering the body to reveal that it’s Ian!

At the prison, Lemaitre says the Doctor made a good impression on Robespierre. I’m not sure I’d say the same, but if he says so. The Doctor tries to make his excuses and leave, but Lemaitre insists that the Doctor stay, and calls for the jailor to arrange accommodations.
Well, I hope he enjoyed his little game of dress-up.

Remember the treacherous tailor? He’s still here, and now he’s got Lemaitre all to himself. The Doctor tries once more to leave while Lemaitre is busy, but the jailor pulls a gun on him. If he were to let the Doctor go, it’d be his neck on the line.

Dear, dear, Doctor. You’re in trouble now!

Back at the maison, Ian is coming around, and joyfully reunites with Barbara. Does anybody else think they might be a little more than friends, or is that just me? Now conscious, Ian takes the opportunity to ask Jules if he knows the Englishman his dead cellmate told him to look for, one ‘James Stirling’. Unfortunately, Jules hasn’t a clue, which is a shame, because Ian had gone looking for Jules in the hope that he would. Unfortunately for Ian’s poor head, Jules found him first, and, thinking him an enemy spy, clobbered him. That man is going to have serious brain damage before long.

Jules posits that ‘James Stirling’ is an alias, though if anyone knows him, it’d probably be Leon. In fact, for all they know Leon might actually be James. It’s easy to pretend to be English when everyone in France speaks in Recieved Pronunciation. Not that I’m complaining. I find using English regional accents to be vastly preferable to forcing the actors to attempt a dreadful foreign accent. A lot of films and programs do it and it drives me up the wall.

Sadly, Susan is getting worse, and the physician won’t come, so Barbara has no choice but to take Susan herself. The physician takes a bit too much of an interest in how Susan came to be ill, but eventually decides that a spot of blood-letting should do the trick, to the womens’ horror. I mean, what were they expecting? Panadol?

Susan reclines on a couch as Barbara watches over her.

They’d probably do better to just make her some hot water with honey and lemon.

See, here’s the problem with time travel to the past: lots of diseases that the modern immune system doesn’t know what to do with. I hope the Doctor got Susan her vaccinations when they landed on Earth. Imagine if she were to come down with smallpox, or TB!

It seems that Leon was right to be wary about trusting a physician, because the medical man, on the pretence of fetching leeches (lovely), heads up to the prison and turns the women in! Having locked the door behind him, the women are sitting ducks when the soldiers come to arrest them.

Well, with them free, there wasn’t anyone for the rest of the characters to make a daring rescue of, was there?

Ian begins to worry that they’ve been a while, but he has a meeting with Leon to keep, so he heads off in hope of tracking down the mysterious James Stirling.

Back in chains, Susan’s chucked into a cell, and Barbara is marched off for questioning…to none other than the Doctor!

Ian arrives at the crypt of an abandoned church, which is a cool place for a clandestine meeting if I ever saw one. The set’s rather good too. There’s a better attempt at the illusion of size here than we’ve seen in a lot of other sets on this programme.

The set of the crypt, with the background painted to create the illusion of depth.

However, while we’re all admiring the set, a bunch of soldiers turn up. Ian’s walked right into a trap.

Leon, you scoundrel!

Leon points a gun at Ian, offscreen

A BARGAIN OF NECESSITY

The following week, my television continued to act up, rendering visible perhaps one frame in twenty. I tried hitting the top of my tv with a mallet, but it didn’t seem to do anything. Ah, well.

Ian captured, Barbara and Susan in chains once more — things don’t look too good for our companions. So, it’s the perfect time for Barbara to have a nice catch-up with the Doctor. Lemaitre tries to listen in, but the jailor arrives to summon him to a meeting with Robespierre. Lemaitre reluctantly agrees to go, but orders that Susan must be kept in the prison on pain of death. He knows something.

Barbara and the Doctor plot her escape.

With Lemaitre gone, the Doctor reveals his cunning plan to spring Barbara from prison. Get ready. It’s very complicated. She’s going to walk out the front door.

See? Complicated. But it’s actually brilliant, wait and see.

The Doctor spins a tale to the jailor that Barbara is actually deeply involved in the grand conspiracy against Robespierre. So deeply involved, in fact, that she knows the names of every traitor in France! Of course, she’d rather die than give them up, but the Doctor and the jailor are clever, aren’t they? What they’ll do, is they’ll let her escape, and then, when she runs off to her traitor friends, they can follow her, and arrest the whole lot!

Now, a person slightly smarter than a guinea pig would probably be able to see through this plan, but that’s part of why I love it. I love the Doctor’s ability to talk utter nonsense with such authority that it sounds perfectly reasonable.

Down in the crypt, Leon’s giving Ian the trademark villain speech, revealing that he’s always been loyal to the revolution. He thinks that Ian’s in on the English spy ring, so demands that Ian tell him the truth.

Well, you asked for it, Leon.

For reasons nobody could ever hope to fathom, Leon doesn’t believe Ian when he says he’s from the year 1963, and his soldiers are on the point of shooting Ian when Jules arrives, having come back to the maison to find it empty.

A fight ensues, and it might have been exciting, but my television chose that moment to stop showing the picture, leaving me with a bit of generic fight music and the occasional grunt, ending with a gunshot, which I assume hit Leon, because the next time I can actually see the scene, Leon’s dead and Jules is Ian’s knight in frilly armour.

Back at the prison, things become amusing when the jailor asks the Doctor why he isn’t tailing Barbara, and the Doctor retorts asking HIM why HE wasn’t doing it. Whoopsie-daisy! Piling on, the Doctor actually tries the same trick on the jailor again, but to let Susan out this time. As funny as it would have been had he agreed, it’d be a bit convenient, so of course the jailor refuses. He’s not going to risk his neck!

Lemaitre goes to meet Robespierre, who fears that the Convention will turn against him at their next meeting, on the 27th of July… 1794. Hands up, who knows their history?

(Is it still paranoia if they really are all out to get you?)

Now it’s time for Historical Nitpicking With Jessica, where I answer the historical questions that literally nobody asked.

It’s about the date of the meeting: July 27, 1794. This is absolutely correct…by the Gregorian calendar. However, during the Reign Of Terror, France was not using this calendar. They were on the French Republican calendar, so for them, the date was 9 Thermidor. Weird, I know. What’s even weirder is that aside from the timing of the start of the year (the autumn equinox rather than the summer solstice), the French Republican calendar is identical to the ancient Egyptian calendar. Just thought that was interesting.

I would call the French calendar and their decimal time ridiculous, but then I remember how English money works, and how we measure distance, and how an English mile is actually how far Charles II could run in a three-legged race before falling over (or something), so perhaps I shouldn’t throw stones.

Ian makes it back safely, and meets up with Barbara, who is also safe now. They think the Doctor’s antics are pretty funny. And they are. It rather spoils the mood, however, once Jules tells Barbara what happened with Leon. To the men’s surprise, Barbara feels quite sad for him. To them, he was a traitor, but to the Revolution, he’d have been a hero. After all, the Revolution did have a point. Perhaps too sharp a point, but a point all the same.

See, Barbara gets it. History is a bit more nuanced when you look at it from the outside. There’s a difference between believing that a republic would be better for everyone than a monarchy, and wanting to chop the heads off anyone who looks a bit too posh.

Back at the prison, the Doctor lets Susan out, but Lemaitre catches them as they try to escape, and the scene following is a bit awkward, with a noticeable line flub from Hartnell (not for the first time, but I usually give him a pass as it works for the character), and a strange bit of awkward silence which made me wonder if somebody forgot their line or wasn’t on their mark.

Lemaitre reveals to the Doctor what he knows

Once we’re off smoothly again, Lemaitre shows the Doctor the ring the tailor gave him. Lemaitre’s quite a bit smarter than the poor jailor. He’s known full well that the Doctor wasn’t who he claimed to be, and strongly suspected his relation to Susan, which is why he was determined to hold on to her. And now he has iron-clad leverage over the Doctor.

Back at the house, Jules explains to Ian and Barbara that he’s not actually of the aristocracy, he’s just against those who would rule by fear, which is fair enough, I’d say.

As he finishes up the explanation, along comes the Doctor… with Lemaitre.

The Doctor brings Lemaitre to Jules, Barbara and Ian

PRISONERS OF CONCIERGERIE

This one is actually genuinely good. Even more so because my television started working again.

Dun dun duuuun, Lemaitre has arrived to crash the party, sweeping in and explaining at everyone just how clever and cunning he is. So clever and cunning is he, in fact… that he is James Stirling.

That did catch me off guard, I have to admit. It certainly explains the accent.

Lemaitre/Stirling says that he can get safe passage back to England for everyone as soon as his business in France is concluded, and asks Ian what was the message he needed to deliver. Ian wracks his brain to remember it, and they piece together that it was a coded message giving away the location of important meeting which Paul Barras will be attending.

Time for a little espionage. They go to the inn, and pose as staff. Ian dusts off his acting skills and I absolutely love it. He goes to the trouble of putting on a fake voice and everything. I think somebody may have been part of the drama club at Coal Hill!

Barbara and Ian in disguise as innkeepers.

Barbara, on the other hand, is as awkward as anything, and simply asks Barras how many people he’s expecting to meet. Fortunately he doesn’t suspect anything, and tells her it’s just the one, and here he comes now.

It’s Napoleon Bonaparte.

Yes. Really.

A cool reveal? Yes. Ahistorical? Absolutely.

I will leave it to you to decide which is the more important factor in your mind. At any rate, it’s little more than a historical cameo, as he’s only in the episode for as long as it takes to promise Barras his support in return for a role as Consul, and then he swans off to make his own history.

Napoleon Bonaparte conspires with Paul Barras to bring an end to Robespierre and his Reign Of Terror

I hope we get an episode centred on Napoleon some time in the future. Well, I could write a list of historical figures I’d like to see an episode based on, but it’d take me all night.

Stirling is aghast to learn of Napoleon’s intentions, knowing that being Consul won’t be enough for a man like Napoleon. He’s absolutely right, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Or is there?
Well, no. We know that. The Doctor and Barbara know that. Nevertheless, Stirling rushes off to try and prevent the arrest of Robespierre.

Now, I do think this is a bit of a missed opportunity. Had the earlier episodes been better paced, I think this turn of events would have been interesting to devote more time to, with Stirling (and possibly the others) trying to save Robespierre as history stubbornly refuses to be knocked off course. Instead all we get is the same old stuff about history being unchangeable. I am simply intrigued as to how exactly that works. What would happen if, for example, I grabbed myself a musket, aimed it squarely at Napoleon’s head, and fired? Will some unknown law of Time make the gun misfire?

The Terror comes to an end as Robespierre is hauled into the prison, clutching his wounded jaw.

History progresses as it’s written. Robespierre is arrested, shot in the jaw, and hauled off for his appointment with Madame Guillotine, bringing the Reign of Terror to an end. The Doctor returns to the prison and orders that it be made ready for Robespierre and his allies, which of course means clearing out the old cells, which means freeing Susan!

I do think it’s a shame that Susan had nothing to do in this serial other than sit and wait to be rescued.

Back at the TARDIS, Ian, much like myself, wonders what would have happened if they had tried to contact Napoleon and tell him about the future. According to Susan, he’d have lost the information, or forgotten it. I suppose that means we aren’t likely to see time paradoxes and alternate timelines in Doctor Who.

Final Thoughts

All in all, I think the second half of this serial was much better and more interesting than the first half. However, I think that Robespierre should have been given more of a focus in this serial. Imagine watching him unravel as his Reign Of Terror comes to a close and the vultures start circling, not in just a couple of scenes, but gradually, over the course of the story. To add to that, I’d have liked to have seen more of the coup against him, beginning earlier in the story, rather than in the last episode. It was the most exciting bit of the plot and it had hardly any time devoted to it.

All the same, I think the serial did redeem itself. It’s not one I’m a big fan of, but it’s not quite as rage-inducing as that one with the stuck button, which makes it okay in my book.

And with that, this first series of Doctor Who comes to an end. I’ve certainly enjoyed the ride, and I hope you’ve been entertained by my ramblings. Though perhaps not as educational as was first intended, Doctor Who has turned out to be an interesting science fiction programme with a real charm to it, and it has tremendous potential in the future. The only limit is the imagination.

As the crew head off to their next adventure, we end on a rather nice quote which, to me, captures the essence of Doctor Who.

“Our lives are important, at least, to us. But as we see, so we learn … Our destiny is in the stars, so let’s go and search for it.”

Next Episode: Planet Of Giants

3 out of 5 stars

 

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 12, 1964] A Mysterious Affair of Style (October 1964 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Georgia on My Mind

We’ve just seen that standing up for civil rights in the South is a hazardous business from the murder of the civil rights workers Goodman, Chaney, and Schwerner.  It looks like merely being a Negro passing through the South can be just as hazardous, even in the service of one’s country. 

Lemuel Penn was an assistant superintendent in the Washington, D.C., school system, a decorated veteran of World War II, and a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserve.  There’s an annual summer training camp for reservists, and Colonel Penn went to Fort Benning, Georgia, for the occasion.  Driving back to Washington on July 11, Colonel Penn and two fellow reservists were noticed by members of the Ku Klux Klan, who followed them and killed Penn with two shotgun blasts.

The Klansmen were easily identified and brought to trial remarkably quickly—and acquitted last week by an all-white Georgia jury, according to the local custom. 

But the last word may remain to be spoken.  Days before the murder, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which authorizes prosecution of such civil rights violations in federal court by federal authorities, was enacted.  Will it make a difference, before another Southern jury?  And will the federal government reconsider a practice that requires Negroes to travel to the South where their mere presence may provoke local racist whites to homicide?

The Issue at Hand

The October 1964 Amazing is fronted by an Ed Emshwiller cover that is, if anything, more hideous than the one on the July issue, though more capably rendered.  It looks like something a non-SF artist might do satirically for a mainstream magazine article trashing SF as silly and juvenile; more charitably, like a failed attempt at an Ace Double cover that Emshwiller found in the back of his closet.  I wonder if it was meant for one of A.E. van Vogt’s Null-A books.  The guy in the shiny white flying chair (notice how much it looks like he’s sitting on a toilet?) has a forehead high enough to accommodate an extra brain, or two or three.  The contrast between this and Emshwiller's much more sophisticated work for Fantasy and Science Fiction (for example, the April 1964 issue) is nothing short of . . . amazing.

Enigma From Tantalus (Part 1 of 2), by John Brunner

by Ed Emshwiller

The cover story is John Brunner’s Enigma from Tantalus, a two-part serial beginning in this issue, which per my practice I will read and review when it is complete.  Of course its mere presence is a source of trepidation.  Which Brunner are we getting?  The Brunner of the capable and intelligent novelets and novellas he has been publishing for years in the British SF magazines, some of which have been fixed up into fine books such as The Whole Man and Times Without Number?  Or the pretentiously befuddled Brunner of his last appearance here, February’s The Bridge to Azrael?  Stay tuned.  Stars, hold back your radiance.

In the Shadow of the Worm, by Neal Barrett, Jr.

Once past the serial, the major fiction item is In the Shadow of the Worm, a long novelet by the unevenly talented Neal Barrett, Jr.  The blurb telegraphs this one: “The Beautiful Lady . . . the Android who does but may not love her . . . the Mad Villain . . . the Unutterable Menace . . .  These are stock (almost laughing-stock) figures of science fiction.  Now Neal Barrett . . . takes them and makes them vibrant with suspense, with poetry, with meaning.”

Uh-oh.

Well, the bad news is that the story is in large part an exercise in bombastic oratory and striking of poses.  The mitigating news is that Barrett sort of brings it off, at least in its own terms.  The Lady Larrehne (am I the only one tired of a human future festooned with titles of nobility?), with her non-man Steifen, an artificial person programmed to serve and obey her, have crossed space in the good ship Gryphon (“Oh, fearsome and great she is!  A league and a half of terror and love from silver beak to spiked bronze tail—a’shimmer with golden scales from steel-ruffle neck to dragon wings; and each bright horny shield as wide as fifty humans high.”).

They are now on Balimann’s Moon, presided over by the Balimann (sic), which orbits around a planet called Slaughterhouse, which apparently produces meat for the rest of the galaxy, in the form of parodic engineered animals without much to them except the edible (“terrible blind herds stumbling toward death before birth could register on feeble brains”).  Slaughterhouse in turn is ruled by one Garahnell, who ostentatiously stages phony space battles for the visitors.

But why are Larrehne and Steifen here anyway?  To see the Worm, a/k/a the Eater of Worlds, an entity, force, effigy, or something between our galaxy and Andromeda and heading our way, and Balimann’s Moon is the best vantage point (“the last sprinkled mote of sand before the great sea begins”). 

They are also here to visit Slaughterhouse, though somehow that goal gets lost in the proceedings.  Everything is symbolic, of course, as the characters point out in case you missed it.  Says the Lady: “Is there a more cutting parody of the Good and Evil we have known back there, than Garahnell’s mock war—or the birth-death of Slaughterhouse?  When I think of the life we left—Oh, Steifen, it’s hard to say which nightmare mirrors the other!”

There’s more, much more, including but not limited to the fate of humanity, all saved from terminal tiresomeness by Barrett’s sure touch with his contrived and gaudy style.  This is not at all my cup of tea, but I must concede it’s well brewed.  Three stars.

Urned Reprieve, by Arthur Porges


by Robert Adragna

Next is the trivial and annoying Urned Reprieve by Arthur Porges, another contrived little story of Ensign Ruyter triumphing over adversity with very basic science.  Ruyter is about to be sacrificed by primitive aliens to their jealous god but saves himself with a demonstration of air pressure that wows the savages.  This is dreary enough to start, but Porges notes in passing that these aliens “were quite primitive, roughly on the level, it would seem, of the Red Indian tribes of Earth’s infancy.” Doesn’t this guy know anything besides junior high school science?  Maybe he should start with Edmund Wilson’s Apologies to the Iroquois (1960), about some “Red Indians” who were arguably more civilized than the people who subjugated them.  Two stars, grudgingly.

The Intruders, by Robert Rohrer


by Blair

The suddenly prolific Robert Rohrer is here, for the third consecutive issue, with The Intruders, an improvement over its predecessors.  It’s a jolly romp about a maniac with a meat cleaver trying to avoid and defeat his pursuers, from the maniac’s point of view, set in a spaceship rather than a haunted house (and being in the spaceship is what drove him mad—that’s what makes it science fiction and not just an updated rehash of Poe).  (That’s mostly a joke.  Sort of.) The hackneyed extremity of the plot is made tolerable and quite readable by an economical style that focuses on mundane physical detail and agreeably contrasts with its loony content.  This Rohrer is getting pretty good; if he sticks with it he may produce something memorable.  Three stars, towards the high end.

Demigod, by R. Bretnor


by Virgil Finlay

The last piece of fiction here is Demigod, by R(eginald) Bretnor, who has not previously appeared in Amazing, being most frequently found in Fantasy & Science Fiction, with the occasional foray into Harper’s, Esquire, Today’s Woman, and the like.  The Demigod is a giant golden-green humanoid who emerges from his spaceship at “the isle and port of Porquegnan, where Lucullus Sackbutt’s yacht, the Grand Eunuch, swam at anchor in an emerald sea and an atmosphere delicate with hints of duck and truffle and whispered music.”

We are quickly introduced, inter alia, to Mr. Sackbutt, the Mayor Hippolyte Ronchi, “a large, middleaged woman named, of all things, Mme. Bovary, who had come to deliver Lucullus Sackbutt’s more intimate and finer laundry,” Sackbutt’s “little friend,” Prince Alexei Alexandrovitch Tsetsedzedze, “known familiarly as Poupou . . . but who had nonetheless found his way to Lucullus Sackbutt via dress-designing and interior decorating.” Sackbutt has only just come from his bath, with “a pair of lithe, young, naked Nubian girls, whose duty it was to wash him, and who had long since learned that nothing at all exciting was going to happen to them while at work,” while Prince Poupou read to Sackbutt from his projected biography of Sackbutt, patron of the fine arts and arbiter of taste.

So Sackbutt appears to be a stereotyped homosexual, and the story continues in its arch and mannered fashion to parody what was undoubtedly a parody to begin with.  The Demigod approaches Sackbutt and stares at him, from which Sackbutt infers that he has been selected to parade for this first alien visitor all the achievements of Earthly high culture, while the rest of the world looks on, until the Demigod decides he has had enough and carries Sackbutt off to a summary end.  Bretnor is adept enough at this artificial style (reminiscent of an overstimulated P.G. Wodehouse) to keep it amusingly readable enough, as long as one can ignore the fact that the whole thing is an exercise in exploiting the last prejudice that seems to be acceptable everywhere.  Two stars for execution discounted for silliness, a burnt-out cinder for moral stature.

Jack Williamson: Four-Way Pioneer, by Sam Moskowitz

An almost welcome note of the prosaic is sounded by Sam Moskowitz, with his SF Profile, Jack Williamson: Four-Way Pioneer.  This one begins by quoting a New York Times review stating that Williamson’s writing is “only slightly above that of comic strip adventure”—a review which netted Williamson a job writing a comic strip, Beyond Mars in the New York Daily News Sunday edition.  This may not be the credential Mr. Williamson would most like to see heralded.

Aside from this promotion by pratfall, Moskowitz recounts Williamson’s childhood in the wilds, or at least the farmlands, of Mexico and the Arizona Territory, his discovery of this very magazine in 1927, his success at selling A. Merritt pastiches to it starting in 1928, and his development as a more versatile writer in the 1930s.  Moskowitz describes Williamson’s 1939 novella The Crucible of Power as “a giant step towards believability in science fiction” (read it and draw your own conclusions).  As usual, Moskowitz focuses on Williamson’s material of the ‘20s and ‘30s, with less emphasis on the ‘40s and none at all on his post-1950 work (two novels on his own not worked up from earlier writings, plus one in collaboration with James Gunn and four in collaboration with Frederik Pohl, and a dozen-plus short stories); his sole comment is “But science fiction stories continue to trickle out.”

Oh, the four ways?  “He is an author who pioneered superior characterization in a field almost barren of it; new realism in the presentation of human motivation; scientific rationalization of supernatural concepts; and exploitation of the untapped story potentials of anti-matter.” You might think becoming an academic with a specialty in science fiction was one, too.  Anyway, three stars; this one is a little meatier than Moskowitz’s usual.

Summing Up

Who would have thought it?  An issue of Amazing in which the merit, such as it is, of most of the fiction contents turns on the authors’ mastery of style: in Barrett’s and Bretnor’s cases, their ability to maintain a grossly artificial style consistently enough to keep the reader going, as opposed to laughing at their lapses, and in Rohrer’s, his ability to recount bizarre and grotesque events in the plainest and most matter-of-fact language so the story will not seem as far around the bend as its protagonist.  Well, you take what you can get with this hit-or-miss magazine.

[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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TV

[September 10, 1964] Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered (September 1964 Television Debuts)

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[We have exciting news!  Journey Press, the publishing company founded by the team behind Galactic Journey, has just launched its first book.  We know you will enjoy Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), a curated set of fourteen excellent stories introduced by the rising stars of 2019. 

If you enjoy Galactic Journey, you'll want to purchase a copy today — available physically and virtually!]


by Rosemary Benton

Roll 'em!

Television this year has been a dry well in terms of new programming. With the exception of Jeopardy on NBC and the extremely fun variety show Hollywood Palace there haven't been any new programs to really dig into. Granted, most networks don't add new material until September and October roll around, but ever since the finale of The Twilight Zone and with the impending finale of Outer Limits next year, September could not get here fast enough. Given the wealth of new science fiction and horror programs scheduled to debut this month one can only hope that one of these new series will fill the void of these two departing titans of science-fiction/horror TV.

Since the beginning of the year when TV Guide's first January 1964 issue came out there has been significant buzz circulating about this year's September lineup. In particular five shows premiering this month promise to be a real thrill: the action-adventure cartoon Jonny Quest, undersea science fiction adventure series Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, the charming and fantastical Bewitched, and the kooky horror-themed family sitcoms The Addams Family and The Munsters.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, premiering Monday 9/14

This might not be the best example of quality science fiction television coming out this Fall, given its direct connection to the poorly written 1961 nautical science-fiction movie of the same name. But Irwin Allen (writer, director and producer of the 1961 film) is convinced that this is a worthwhile premise for an ongoing adventure series on ABC, and since most of the sets from the movie were apparently still in storage I'm sure that saved the production companies (Cambridge Productions, Inc. and 20th Century Fox Television) a ton of money. The fact that the show will be in black and white certainly can't hurt the budget either.

As Irwin is a director infamous for his liberal use of stock footage, and given that the movie sets are going to be reused for the TV show, I am hesitant to put much faith in the further low-budget adventures of the S.S.R.N. Seaview and her crew. I wouldn't say that Irwin Allen is a stellar talent as a writer, either, the abysmal plot and bizarre science of the 1961 movie being the most concerning threats to the success of this show. But I can at least rest easy knowing that Voyage is just one of this Fall's science fiction, fantasy and horror show lineup.

Bewitched, premiering Thursday 9/17

Bewitched is a lighthearted sitcom centered around the misadventures of newly married witch Samantha (played by Elizabeth Montgomery) to well meaning but insecure Darrin Stephens (played by Dick York). Situational comedy will abound as Samantha tries to adapt to living in the mortal world, and we will surely get a good laugh out of Darrin's attempt to reconcile with a wife who is not only more powerful than him, but whose mother is determined to make his life miserable. 

As if the versatile, powerful acting of Agnes Moorehead as the nosy and witchy mother of Montomery's character wasn't reason enough to tune into this show on the 17th, Bewitched's executive producer is the highly successful network executive and program developer Harry Ackerman. His time as the executive producer on the wildly popular family shows Dennis the Menace and Leave it to Beaver has surely given him invaluable experience managing sitcoms. And with his legion of connections within the entertainment industry I would be shocked if the best and brightest talents weren't brought on board for Bewitched. This show, although advertised as rather fluffy, will undoubtedly become a family favorite.

Jonny Quest, premiering Friday 9/18

Jonny Quest is the next science-fiction themed show of note set to premier this month. Upon its 9/18 release on ABC at 7:30 PM EST Jonny Quest will be the 11th animated television series (closely preceded by their 10th series debut The Peter Potamus Show on September 16th) from the powerhouse duo William Hanna and Joseph Barbera of Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc. From the look of the artwork provided to advertise for the show, this is going to be a very different series in tone and direction compared to earlier Hanna-Barbera creations.

It isn't unfair to characterize the vast majority of Hanna-Barbera shows as goofy looking and brimming with slap-stick humor. Their characters are usually bulbous and colorful with expressive, over the top movements clearly designed to be amusing to young children. Jonny Quest, on the other hand, looks like a comic book come to life!

If one is familiar with science fiction-fantasy anthologies like Alarming Tales from Harvey Comics and DC Comics' Tales of the Unexpected, or any number of western titles from Atlas Comics, then you might recognize the tell tale heavy shadowing and strong jawlines signature to veteran comic book artist and writer Douglas Wildey. To develop the cast and tone for the series Hanna-Barbera brought in this perfectly suited talent to work some artistic magic. It is my sincere hope that this series, with its crisp art and larger budget, will be to Hanna-Barbera what Superman was to Fleischer Studios.

Since writers in comic books are unfortunately not often credited, it's not really feasible to point to a significant number of Wildey's writing assignments in order to predict what type of voice he will bring to the scripts for the show. However, given William Hanna and Joseph Barbera's comments on the upcoming series in their TV Guide interview with Dwight Whitney, I imagine it's safe to say that the signature wacky antics of Hanna-Barbera Productions' earlier works will be tamped down in favor of more gripping story telling. Barbera did say, “If a kid leaves his seat, I'll eat the chair”, after all.

The Addams Family, premiering Friday 9/18

The 18th is going to be a red letter day. Not only do we get Jonny Quest at 7:30 EST on ABC, but at 8:30 EST we get the show I am personally the most excited for – The Addams Family! At long last Charles Addams' New Yorker cartoon about an eccentric and socially clueless gothic family is going to make the jump to film!

Charles Addams did not flesh out his individual characters too much following their initial appearance in 1938. The single panel comics instead focused on the odd juxtaposition of the grandiose macabre behavior of the Addams clan and the astonishment expressed by their wholly average neighbors. Despite the chaos or discomfort that follows in their wake, the Addams' always proceed with unconcerned or oblivious confidence. If the writers can maintain this aloof quality to the central cast of the Addams household then they will have done their job well.

In terms of casting I couldn't think of anyone more fitting to play Morticia Addams than the slim, angularly beautiful Carolyn Jones. John Astin, with his similarly angular face, large eyes and overly enthusiastic smile, is the perfect choice for Gomez Addams. Visually the black and white filming of the show will be right at home with both the macabre fashion sense of the titular family, but it will allow for possible satire of the horror genre as it is now – with Victorian motifs coming off as cliché, and a nostalgic pining for the Universal Studios monsters of the early-mid 20th century.

The Munsters, premiering Thursday 9/24

“Science-Fiction Times” issue 418 sneeringly describes the simultaneous September release of The Addams Family and The Munsters as proof of “just how derivative things can get on TV”. Undeniably, The Munsters is CBS' rival programming to The Addams Family. The main characters in The Munsters are also an extended family of morbid weirdoes living in a crumbling towering manor that is out of place in the nice suburban neighborhood surrounding it. And true, there is a witchy mother figure, along with an eccentric uncle and a Frankenstein's monster-type character.

What immediately stands out between the two shows is one glaringly different character. While the Addams family is unanimous in their attire and foreboding nature, the Munsters' household includes a young conventionally attractive woman. Marilyn Munster (played by Beverly Owen) is a white sheep among dark horses. In sitcoms such a character serves the role of showing contrast and causing plot conflicts. I predict that the main way that this show will stand on its own against The Addams Family by readily acknowledging what the Addams do not – that they are different and that not all of society can coexist harmoniously with theirs.

In some ways this could be viewed as a more mature route to take a sitcom, but I don't think TV audiences need to be worried about The Munsters getting too heavy. After all, the makeup on Herman Munster (played by Fred Gwynne) more closely resembles layered blocks of acrylic paint than makeup designed to look gaunt and sickly. Gwynne's constant dopey grin and hooded eyes also lend a comedic air to his character. Al Lewis' grandfather character is likewise hilariously designed to look like an elderly Dracula ala Bela Lugosi who has really let himself go in the last hundred or so years. Yes, it is superficially similar to The Addams Family, but unless the evidence proves otherwise I think we can safely assume that the two shows will be distinct enough to warrant recognition for their own individual strengths.

Final Thoughts

It seems that for now science-fiction and horror on television will be predominantly paired with a heavy helping of comedy. The use of these genres to critique social concepts will continue unhindered in Bewitched, The Addams Family, and The Munsters, but if the most “serious” science-fiction we can expect this fall is coming from Irwin Allen then it seems like we will need to wait a little longer for the spiritual successor to Twilight Zone and Outer Limits. In the meantime young viewers can enjoy the adventures of the Quest family, and the whole family can tune in to the antics of three new paranormal families trying to make their way in American suburbia. It may be a campy, kooky, and spooky year of TV, but at least it will be fun.

[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 8, 1964] It's War! (The October 1964 Galaxy and the 1964 Hugos)

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[We have exciting news!  Journey Press, the publishing company founded by the team behind Galactic Journey, has just launched its first book.  We know you will enjoy Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), a curated set of fourteen excellent stories introduced by the rising stars of 2019. 

If you enjoy Galactic Journey, you'll want to purchase a copy today — available physically and virtually!]


by Gideon Marcus

It's a War, Man

No matter which way you look these days, fighting has broken out somewhere.  Vietnam?  War.  The Congo?  War.  Yemen?  War.

Worldcon?  You'd better believe it's war.

Back in May, the committee putting on this year's event (in Oakland, called Pacificon II) decided that Walter Breen would not be allowed to attend.  For those of you living in a steel-plated bubble, Breen is a big-name fan in the SF and coin-collecting circles with a gift for inciting dislike in direct proportion to one's proximity.

Oh, and he's also a child molester.

Now there has been much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments over the draconian action taken by the Pacificon committee, likening the arbitrary action to McCarthy's witch trials of the last decade.  As a result, fandom has largely resolved itself into two camps, one defending the attempt to evict Breen from organized fandom, the other vilifying it.

I know we're a kooky bunch of misfits and our tent should be pretty inclusive, but ya gotta draw the line somewhere, don't you?  And what may have been fine for Alexander doesn't hold in the 20th Century.  I guess it's clear which side I fall on.

Well, despite the protests and the boycotts that tainted the Worldcon (which were part of what deterred me from attending this year), they still managed to honor what the fans felt was the best science fiction and fantasy of 1963.  Without further ado, here's how the Hugos went:

Best Novel

Here Gather the Stars, by Clifford Simak (63 votes)

Nominees

For the first time, the Journey had reviewed all of the choices for Best Novel before the nominating ballots had even been counted.  While we didn't pick the Simak for a Galactic Star last year, it's not a bad book, certainly better than the Heinlein and the Herbert, probably better than the Norton.  I suspect the reason the Vonnegut finished so low is that, as a mainstream book, fewer had read it.  Or perhaps just because it was so weird.

Short Fiction

The No Truce with Kings by Poul Anderson (93 votes)

Nominees

We got all of these this year, too.  The Anderson was our clear favorite, being the only one on the list to rate a Galactic Star.  The rest are in the order we had rated them.  Sadly, because this category encompasses so many stories, a great number got cheated out of recognition.  Perhaps they will divide the categories by length in the future.

Best Dramatic Presentation

None this year — insufficient votes cast for any one title to create a proper ballot.

I bet this will change next year what with so many SF shows coming out this Fall season (Rose Benton has got an article coming out in two days on this very subject!)

Best Professional Magazine

Analog ed. by John W. Campbell, Jr. (90 votes)

Nominees

It looks like people voted for the magazines in rough proportion to subscription rates, though F&SF did disproportionately well.  I am happy to say that this is the year we start covering Science-Fantasy…in its new incarnation under the editorship of Kyril Bonfiglioli.

Best Professional Artist

Ed Emshwiller (77 votes)

Nominees

Book covers are showing their influence on the voting — Krenkel and Frazetta don't do the SF mags. 

Best Fanzine

AMRA (72 votes)

Nominees

  • Yandro (51 votes)
  • Starspinkle (48 votes)
  • ERB-dom (45 votes)
  • No Vote (52 votes)
  • No Award (6 votes)

(isn't it interesting how close the ERB fanzine's tally is to Savage Pellucidar's…)

I was glad to see that Warhoon, which is full-throatedly in favor of Walter Breen, was not in the running.  Starspinkle, which makes no secret of its disdain for Breen, is the only one of these I read regularly.

Also, while Galactic Journey was not on the ballot again (for some reason), we did get a whopping 88 write-in votes.  So, unofficially, we are the best fanzine for 1964.  Go us!

Best Publisher

Ace Books (89 votes)

Nominees

  • Pyramid (79 votes)
  • Ballantine (45 votes)
  • Doubleday (35 votes)
  • No Vote (25 votes)
  • No Award (11 votes)

I should keep track of who is publishing what for next year.  The problem is, I usually read novels in serial format.

And that's it for my Hugos report.  It'll be interesting to see if fandom's scars heal at all by next year.

Veterans of Foreign Wars

Given the turmoil in the papers and in fandom, it's not surprising that war is a common theme in science fiction, too.  In fact, the October 1964 issue of Galaxy is bookended by novellas on the subject; together they take up more than half the book.  They also are the best parts.


by George Schelling

Soldier, Ask Not, by Gordon R. Dickson

Centuries from now, after humanity has scattered amongst a dozen or more stars, the species has splintered to specialize in particular traits.  The eggheads of Newton focus on scientific advance while the Cassidans make the building of starships their trade.  The mystical Exotics have devoted their lives to nonviolent pursuit of philosophy.  The Dorsai, of course, are renowned galaxy-wide for their military prowess.  And the hyper-religious "Friendlies" are committed to faith.

Our story's setting is the wartorn Exotic world of St. Marie, where Dorsai mercenaries have been employed to topple the Friendly mercenaries who had conquered the world years prior.  Newsman Tam Olyn has learned that the Friendlies' mission is a forlorn one, and he hopes to leverage that information to force the Christian zealots to do something desperate, illegal, to win the fight.  For Olyn has a grudge to settle with the Friendlies, having watched them slaughter without mercy an entire company of surrendered soldiers several years back.


by Gray Morrow

Set in the same universe as Dickson's prior Dorsai stories, Soldier is a more mature piece, asking a lot of hard questions.  Is Olyn's zeal any less than that of the Friendlies, any more laudable?  If Olyn's actions cause the destruction of an entire sub-branch of humanity, can the species' collective psyche withstand the loss of one of its vital components? 

Of course, the situation turns out to be far more complex than Olyn thought, with the Friendly commandant and the Dorsai commander proving to be independent variables beyond his control.  In the end, nothing goes as planned.

Soldier is not perfect.  It's overwritten in places, although since the tale is a first-person account written by a war correspondent, I wonder if this was intentional.  The omniscience of the Exotic, Padma, who has an understanding of events and factors that would make even Hari Seldon jealous, is a bit convenient as a storytelling device.  The idea that humanity has evolved in a few centuries, not just societally but mentally, such that vital components of our minds have been bred out of existence, is difficult to swallow.

But Dickson is a good writer, and I found myself turning the pages with avid interest. 

Four stars.

Martian Play Song, by John Burress

A variation of patty-cake that will make you chortle.  Three stars.

Be of Good Cheer, by Fritz Leiber

The first of two robot stories, this is a letter from Josh B. Smiley, Director-in-Chief of Level 77's Bureau of Public Morale to one Hermione Fennerghast of Santa Barbara.  It seems she just can't be happy living in a mechanically run world, where robots ignore the people, where people seem to be increasingly scarce, and where both the indoors and outdoors are being reduced to dull grayness.  Smiley does his best to reassure her that all is for the best, but the Director's verbal smile increasingly comes off as forced.

It's cute while it lasts, forgettable when it's over.  Three stars.

The Area of "Accessible Space">, by Willy Ley

Mr. Ley offers us a list of near-Earth celestial targets that could be reached in the near future by rockets and probes.  The author is quite optimistic about our prospect, in fact: "There can hardly be any doubt that a mission to a comet (unmanned) will be flown before a man lands on the moon."

Anyone want to lay odds?

Three stars.

How the Old World Died, by Harry Harrison

Robot story #2: computerized automata are programmed with one overriding desire — to reproduce.  Soon, they take over the entire world, having deconstructed our buildings and machines to make more of them.

The twist ending to the story is not only ridiculous, but it also is in direct contradiction to events described earlier.  Sure, perhaps the narrator (a crotchety grandpa who remembers the good old days) is not reliable.  But if that be true, then 90% of the story is invalid, and what was the point of reading it?

Two stars.

The 1980 President, by Miriam Allen deFord


by Hector Castellon

Have you noticed that every President of the United States elected in a year ending in zero ultimately dies in office?  Perhaps that's why, in 1980, the two big parties have nominated candidates they wouldn't mind losing (though they'd never admit it publicly).

A cute idea for a gag story, I guess.  Except, in this case, the parties have been maneuvered into their actions by alien agent, The Brown Man, and his goal is racial harmony and equality.

Yeah, I found the whole thing a bit too heavy-handed for my tastes, too.  I've liked deFord a lot, but her work lately has seemed kind of primitive, more at home in a less refined era of science fiction.

Three stars, barely.

The Tactful Saboteur, by Frank Herbert


by Jack Gaughan

From bad to worse.  This unreadable piece involves a government with a built in Department of Sabotage to ensure things don't run too smoothly.  I guess.  Maybe you'll get more out of it than I did.

One star.

What's the Name of That Town?, by R. A. Lafferty

A supercomputer is tasked with discovering an event not from the evidence for its existence, but from the conspicuous lack of evidence.  Lafferty's piece is an inverse of deFord's — a great idea rather wasted on a feeble laugh. 

Another barely three-star story.

Maxwell's Monkey, by Edgar Pangborn

What if the monkey on your back was a real monkey?  This monkey is a clunker.

Two stars.

Precious Artifact, by Philip K. Dick

Humanity emerges victorious from a war with the "proxmen", and Milt Biskle, a terraformer on Mars, is granted the right to return to Earth.  He does so only reluctantly, subconsciously dreading a trip to his overcrowded homeworld.

Once there, he is wracked with fears that the teeming masses of people, the burgeoning skylines are all imaginary.  Underneath, he is certain, lies nothing but ruins, smashed by the proxmen — who were actually triumphant and project this illusion to keep the few remaining humans sane.

But there is a level of truth even deeper…

A minor effort from a major author, Dick's latest warrants three stars.

The Children of Night, by Frederik Pohl


by Virgil Finlay

Lastly, Galaxy's editor picks up the pen to deliver a tale of marketing in the early 21st Century.  It's a topic near and dear to Pohl's heart, he having started out as a pretty successful copywriter, and it's no surprise that he often returns to this subject in his stories.

In this particular case, Pohl's protagonist is "Gunner", a fixer for the world's most reputable (and infamous) publicity firm.  They're the kind who'd even try to reform Hitler's image if the were enough Deutschmarks in the deal.  And in 2022, Moultrie & Bigelow's client is no less than the Arcturan insectoids who tried to wipe out humanity in a decade-long interstellar war.  I mean, how do you sell the public on a bunch of stinky bugs who killed indiscriminately and conducted experiments on children that would make Mengele blanch? (Who am I kidding — the bastard would take notes.)

Unlike many of the author's other marketing stories, this one is played straight; and while I don't know that I buy the ending, no one would argue that Fred Pohl can't write.

Four stars.

Picking up the Pieces

At times, the latest issue of Galaxy feels like a battlefield, with definite winners and losers.  In the end, though, this kind of war is a lot more palatable than the other ones going on in the world. 

At four bits, that's affordable and welcome R&R.

[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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Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 4, 1964] (The Soviet novella, From Beyond)

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by Margarita Mospanova

Imagine a picture, dear readers. It’s a rainy day, the light coming in from the windows dark and heavy. You have a day off work and there’s nothing requiring your immediate attention. You make yourself a cup of tea or a mug of coffee and drag your favorite chair to the nearest window. Turn to the bookshelf to grab that novel that you’ve been dying to read but couldn’t find the time to and… several minutes later realize that you’ve been stuck on the first page for a while. You sigh, take a sip of something tasty, and force yourself to muddle through. And yet, the magic of the day is gone, the perfect atmosphere is gone, the enthusiasm for a new book is gone. The novel lies half open on your knees, its pages crinkling softly in protest, and, unreasonably irritated by the whisper of the rain outside, you resign yourself to another wasted day.

Well. That got pretty dark pretty fast. But because that’s happened to me more than once in the past, I now keep a stack of perfect remedies right by the chair. Novels are too long, short stories are, as you might guess, too short, but novellas and novelettes are ideal for when you want to relax for an hour or two but have no desire to commit yourself to something really time-consuming.

And the latest novella I had the pleasure of reading came from the authors easily recognized by our most attentive readers. From Beyond by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky (From the Outside, Strangers, or whatever title the eventual translated edition will bear) started as a small short story and was later reworked into the novella first published in 1960.

Composed of three parts, the story follows professor Lozovsky, an archeologist leading an excavation site in Tajikistan. But each part has its own narrator: a military officer on a camping trip, a scientist from the excavation site, and finally the professor himself.

The structure of the novella deserves a separate mention because not only it is divided by characters and places, but it is also not set chronologically. Which, to my experience, does not happen as often as I would like, being a fan of experimental fiction myself. The first story actually deals with the very end of the professor’s journey and reads a bit like horror to boot!

And for each character the Strugatskys create a completely unique voice which adds a different mood for each chapter. The somewhat direct and down-to-earth officer leads us from a simple hiking trip on a sleeping volcano to a mysterious night encounter with a mad man. The scientist recounts the events in a dry and somewhat formal manner, sticking to facts and nothing but facts. And the professor is a bit naive and as enthusiastic as a child in a candy-shop, which makes his dedication and commitment to science all the more apparent.

All three parts of the novella deal with a first-contact scenario. Or rather a version of it, where humans are not supposed to be a part of the action, so to speak. The novella is fairly short and I do not see a reason to divulge all the details and completely spoil the plot for you, dear readers, but some things are just too good to ignore. As such I will allow myself to gush over one small, but still very much story-relevant part of the novella:

It has a space zoo in it! These two simple words are usually a surefire way for me to completely fall in love with whatever they appear inside. And this novella did not let me down. The zoo was probably my favorite part of it, if I have to choose. Yes, some of the details are a bit hard to believe. Yes, there are plenty of things to nitpick from the science side of things. But let’s be honest here. It’s a space zoo. Very little matters compared to that.

I have to admit that out of all the Soviet science fiction writers the Strugatsky brothers are fast becoming my favorites. So far, most of what I’ve read from them are short stories and I’ve been ready to move onto something bigger for a while now. As such, I am very glad I managed to get my hands on this novella.

No matter the subject, Strugatskys’ characters turn out alive and exceptionally well fleshed out. With just a few word strokes, they paint a picture so vivid, it is better than many a movie I had to suffer through in the past.

And so, it is my great pleasure to award From Beyond by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky five flying tigers out of five.

(Space zoo in zero gravity, dear readers. The tigers aren’t the only ones flying in this one.)

[We have exciting news!  Journey Press, the publishing company founded by the team behind Galactic Journey, has just launched its first book.  We know you will enjoy Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), a curated set of fourteen excellent stories introduced by the rising stars of 2019. 

If you enjoy Galactic Journey, you'll want to purchase a copy today — available physically and virtually!]




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Book, Magazine

[September 2, 1964] Taking on The Man (September 1964 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Tarnished Gold

I am an avid fan of science fiction magazines.  It would not be going too far to say that Galactic Journey's original purpose was to document these delightful digests as they came out (since then, our scope has crept quite a bit, even as far as the opening of a publishing company!)

If you've been following my column, you know that I view some magazine editors more favorably than others.  For instance, I have a great deal of respect for Fred Pohl, who helms Galaxy, IF AND Worlds of Tomorrow, all of them quite good reads.  Then there's Cele Goldsmith (now Lalli) who took on both Amazing and Fantastic, and while neither are unalloyed excellence, they are improved over where they were before she came on, and there's usually something excellent in at least one of the mags every month. 

My relationship with Fantasy and Science Fiction's Avram Davidson is more complicated; I understand he's moved to Berkeley and is retiring from the editorship of that magazine to devote himself to writing.  I think that's probably better for everyone involved.  Still, there have been some good issues under Davidson, and I can't let curses go without some grudging admiration.

And then there's John W. Campbell.

Look.  I recognize that his Astounding kicked off the Golden Age of Science Fiction, and that, for a while, his magazine (and its sister, Unknown) were the best games in town, by far.  But Campbell went off the deep end long, long ago, with his pseudo-science, his reactionary politics, his heavy-handed editorial policy that ensures that White Male Terrans are usually the stars (and writers) of his stories, and his inflammatory editorials that I gave up reading a while ago.

Asimov's long-since turned his back on him.  Even I've rattled sabers with him.  But the most poignant declaration against Campbell is a recent one, given by prominent writer Jeannette Ng at a local conference.  She minced no words, denouncing his male-chauvinism, his racism, his authoritarianism, and urged that the genre be freed from the overlong shadow he casts. 


Jeannette Ng, iconoclast

While Campbell's influence in SF is somewhat on the wane, Analog still has double the circulation of the next biggest competitor, four times that of F&SF, where the majority of the women SF writers publish.  It's people like Ms. Ng, pointing at the naked Emperor and noting the ugliness, who will advance the New Wave, the post-Campbellian era.

All I have to say is "bravo". 

The Issue at Hand

The ironic thing is that the current issue of Analog is actually pretty good (full disclosure: I didn't read the editorial, which is probably awful).  Just the cover, illustrating the latest Lord D'Arcy story is worth the price of admission.


by John Schoenherr

Opening up the pages, things are pretty good inside, too.  At least until the end. 

the risk takers, by Carolyn Meyer

This article on the use of mannequins in aeronautical and medical science is lively, much more Asimovian than most of the non-fiction Campbell has subjected us to recently.  And, it's the first time a woman author has graced the science column of Analog.  While the piece is comparatively brief and perhaps aimed at a more general (dare I say "younger") audience than the average Analog reader, I enjoyed it.

Four stars.

A Case of Identity, Randall Garrett

Randall Garrett is possibly the author I've savaged the most during my tenure running the Journey, but even I have to admit that the fellow's latest series is a winner.  Lord D'Arcy is a magical detective hailing from an alternate 1964.  In this installment, the Marquis of Cherbourg is missing, and coincidentally, an exact double has just been found dead and naked near the docks.  There's witchcraft afoot, and the good Lord, along with his sorcerer assistant, Master Sean O Lochlainn, are on the case.


by John Schoenherr

This story doesn't flow quite as smoothly as the first one, spending many inches on the historical background of this brand-new world.  It's still a superlative tale, however.

Four strong stars.

The Machmen, James H. Schmitz


by John Schoenherr

An interstellar survey group is overpowered by a group of ambitious cyborgs.  The goal of these so-called "Machmen" (presumably pronounced "Mash-men"?) is to forcibly convert the captured team of eggheads into brainwashed cybernetic comrades and start a colony.  But one the scientists has gotten loose, and he has a risky plan to thwart the nefarious scheme that just…might…work.

It's not a bad piece.  In fact it moves quite nicely, far more readily than the author's latest (and disappointing) Telzey Amberdon story.  But on the other hand, it reads like it might have come out in the 1930s.  I wonder if it's been hiding in a desk from the early days of Schmitz' career.

Three stars.

Sheol, Piers Anthony and H. James Hotaling


by John Schoenherr

This is an odd piece about the Government postman who delivers parcels to the oddballs who live in the suburbs.  It's quite deftly written, but there's weird social commentary that, while not offensive, feels Campbellian.  Tailor made for John, or doctored after the fact?  There's no way to tell.

Three stars.

Sleeping Planet (Part 3 of 3), William R. Burkett, Jr.


by Kelly Freas

Last up, we have the conclusion to Sleeping Planet.  What started out as a promising novel about the sudden subjugation of the Earth has ended up exactly as predicted.  The few unsleeping humans, along with their robotic allies (abruptly introduced near the end of the last installment), put on a movie show that convinces the invaders that the dead spirits of Earth are taking out their revenge.  This confusion facilitates the final gambit of the Terrans: to infiltrate and revive one of the planetary defense stations in El Paso.  After that, it's all over but the shouting.

There are several problems with this last part.  First off, it's essentially unnecessary.  There are no surprises, the human plan pretty much going as discussed in the last part.  That's the big picture.  Smaller picture issues include:

  • Why were Earth's defense centers even vulnerable to the sleeping dust in the first place?  Wouldn't it make sense for them to have their own air supplies against chemical/biological attack?
  • The amazingly human-like aliens (another Campbellian feature) are always played for suckers.  I was almost rooting for them to win at the end, so arrogant and annoying were the humans.
  • At the end, Earth's leaders make light of the attack, calling it a brief nap (but a warning as to what might happen NEXT TIME).  I understand this is largely to quell panic and outrage.  At the same time, though, it is mentioned numerous times that hundreds, maybe thousands of women were revived and rendered stupefied so that the might "service" the alien troops.  That this mass rape goes unaddressed and essentially laughed off really bothered me.  Honestly, even including this element was disgusting and unnecessary, especially in a story that mostly kept a light tone.

Two stars for this segment, two-and-a-half for the book as a whole.  We'll see if it gets picked up for separate print.

Summing Up

Thus ends another edition of the magazine that Campbell built, representative of the best and worst of the man.  This time, the positive aspects have won out, resulting in a 3.2 star issue.  This is surpassed this month only by Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4).  There was no IF this month due to a problem at the printers, the result of shifting from bimonthly to monthly.  That leaves the new New Worlds (3.1), Amazing (2.7), and Fantastic (2.6) scoring below Analog and F&SF.  An unusual month, indeed.

Women wrote 6 of 38 pieces (1 of 4 science articles, 5 of 34 fiction pieces), a fairly average month.  Despite the paucity of magazines, there was enough high quality material to make a decently sized issue.  Now that I'm in the anthology business, perhaps I'll do just that…

SPEAKING OF WHICH:

We have exciting news!  Journey Press, the publishing company founded by the team behind Galactic Journey, has just launched its first book.  We know you will enjoy Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), a curated set of fourteen excellent stories introduced by the rising stars of 2019. 

If you enjoy Galactic Journey, you'll want to purchase a copy today — available physically and virtually!  Not only will you find it excellent reading, but it will support our efforts and allow us to make more of the material you enjoy!  Thank you for your support!




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Book

[August 31, 1964] Grow old along with me (Brian Aldiss' Greybeard)

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by Gideon Marcus

A slow burn

The British love writing about the end of the world.

Whether it's J.G. Ballard depicting a drowning world, Nevil Shute showing us clouds of atomic radiation slowly enveloping the globe, the cinema showing the day the Earth caught fire, or John Wyndham terrorizing a blind world with man-eating plants, the UK has been fertile ground for a particular kind of disaster story.  While presenting global catastrophes is not unique to Britain, U.K. authors are more apt to focus on the social ramifications, and also the aftermath, rather than the more flashy destruction scenes.  Moreover, British SF tends to take its time with disasters, letting you stop for a contemplative tea rather than maintaining a continuous mad dash.  Of course, Americans write contemplative post-disaster too (viz. Pat Frank's Alas, Babylon, but it's rarer.

Brian Aldiss, the vanguard of the British "New Wave" of science fiction, had already made his mark in this genre with Hothouse, a portrayal of Earth's far-future where humans have reverted to knee-high savages and plants have displaced virtually all of the animal kingdom.  A popular series and then a fix-up book, Hothouse was a hit, winning a Hugo a couple of years back. 

Now, the prolific Oxonion (by residence, not degree) has produced the latest in inexorable aftermath fiction: Greybeard.

Winding down

The basic premise of Greybeard is like a cross between On the Beach and John Christopher's The Death of Grass (No Blade of Grass in the United States).  In 1981, orbital atomic tests cause the Earth's protective Van Allen Belts to waver, and the Earth is scoured with extraterrestrial radiations.  Most large mammals are adversely affected; they sicken and die, they cease to breed true.  Humans are hit worst of all: half the world's children succumb to the ensuing illness, and virtually all humanity is rendered sterile.

Aldiss begins his story in 2029, after society has largely collapsed.  The viewpoint character is Algernon Timberlane, generally known as "Greybeard" for his signature adornment.  Of course, some fifty years after "the Accident", everyone is grey, but Algy stands out for being among the youngest of humanity's remnants, a spry 54-year-old in a world of old coots.  An intellectual and possessed of vigor, and also married to one of the youngest and loveliest women yet living (Martha Broughton), Greybeard stands out, and he has many years left for adventure.

Adventure he does, in a sort of quiet, understated fashion.  From the first chapter, the book wends in two chronological directions.  Going forward, Algy and Martha leave their authoritarian community of Sparcot after it is overrun with feral stoats, their goal to reach the coast and see what's left of the world before it decays completely to a natural state.  Going backward, we journey stepwise to the immediate aftermath of the Accident, first to the warlord era of 2018, then to the world wars of 2001 as nations struggled to secure the last viable children, and finally to Algy's youth, before humanity is certain of its doomed status.

A British manner of storytelling

Greybeard does an excellent job of exploring humanity with a hollowed out spot where its legacy should be.  It's a fascinating study, a story of old people (men and women equally represented) in a field normally dominated by the young.  At first, our species tries to carry on, business as usual.  We then fall by stages into strife and then a senescent blurriness.  In other words, as a race, we age and begin to die. 

Aldiss is never in a hurry to tell his story, letting the reader soak in the sights and smells of the slowly decaying civilization.  At the same time, neither does the pace lag, with Algy moving around quite a bit and meeting an interesting ragtag of other survivors.  The book is in many ways a travelogue of southeast England, with Aldiss' home of Oxford featuring prominently.  This intimate familiarity with the region adds verisimilitude to a very immediate-feeling tale.

The author also cuts the subtle horror of the situation with an arch sense of humor; for instance, the journalistic organization Algy joins after the wars, in order to document the last days of humanity, is called Documentation of Universal Contemporary History, for which Timberline is assigned to the English branch.  Yes — DOUCH(E).  The advancing senility of the people Greybeard meets is at once deeply chilling and comically ridiculous.  In other words, the situation is hopeless but not serious.

Hope or despair at the bottom of the box?

Of course, the overriding question on everyone's mind (particularly the reader's) is whether or not there are any viable children left on the planet.  There are hints given throughout; however, certain verification yea or nay is reserved for the very end.  Either answer would work, but would result in wildly different tales and messages.  I liked the path Aldiss chose.

In any event, Greybeard is definitely one of the stronger books of the year, and another excellent outing by Mr. Aldiss.  Four stars.


photo by John Bulmer

[We have exciting news!  Journey Press, the publishing company founded by the team behind Galactic Journey, has just launched its first book.  We know you will enjoy Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), a curated set of fourteen excellent stories introduced by the rising stars of 2019. 

If you enjoy Galactic Journey, you'll want to purchase a copy today — available physically and virtually!]




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Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 27, 1964] Change..? ( New Worlds, September-October 1964)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

It seems that the winds of change may be beginning to blow here again in the British Isles. Since we last spoke, we’ve had ex-Prime Minister Winston Churchill retire from Parliament, which may be a sign that the old guard is changing. There are also rumours of a General Election being announced later in the year.

Whilst we are in Parliamentary recess, the signs are that things will get rather intense after the Summer. Should be interesting: Labour have a vibrant new man at their helm, named Harold Wilson, who makes the Conservatives seem staid by comparison.

He’s even met The Beatles, making him the envy of 99% of Britain’s youngsters.

Harold meeting the Fab Four in March 1964

I am tempted to suggest that perhaps the Beatles should be elected – surely with their current global reputation they would stand a good chance. I have enjoyed reading about the US reaction to the A Hard Day’s Night movie, which seems almost as frenzied as the reaction here when I saw it back in July. I decided to wait for the fuss to die down before seeing it myself, but I did enjoy it a lot. If ticket sales are any sign of success, it’s still being shown in cinemas here, with some fans seeing it on a weekly basis.

In terms of music, the seemingly unstoppable Beatles have, after three weeks, had the single A Hard Day’s Night replaced by a slightly more unusual Number One: that by the mighty Manfred Mann (it’s a group and a person!) and their catchy number Doo Wah Diddy Diddy.  My current favourite however is the rather loud and brash You Really Got Me by The Kinks.

If we’re not queuing up to see A Hard Day’s Night again, then the cinema pickings are a little slim. I did enjoy seeing Carry On Spying recently, a comedic spoof of the James Bond genre in that slap-around British manner that is not to be taken at all seriously. The plot is that a top secret chemical formula has been stolen by STENCH (the Society for the Total Extinction of Non-Conforming Humans), and so a bumbling set of trainee spies led by Agent Simpkins (Kenneth Williams) are on the trail, chasing villains such as The Fat Man, Dr Milchman and Dr Crow (really!) around the world.

Movie poster with the inimitable Kenneth Williams (centre)

Ok – it’s not subtle. But it made me laugh, and almost made up for the fact that Ian Fleming is no longer with us – I wonder what he would have made of it.

And whilst I mention Bond, I’m also waiting impatiently for the next Bond movie, Goldfinger, due here next month. Can’t wait.

The signs of change are also here in the newest New Worlds magazine as well. Three issues in of this new version and I think that we’re beginning to see the new format settling down into some kind of order. The good news is that the last couple of issues have been a marked improvement overall for me, although there have been some spectacular mistakes as well – Michael Moorcock’s ‘story’ Goodbye, Miranda in the last issue was just awful.

The Issue At Hand

The cover is another eye-catching one, by ‘Jakubowicz’, in the style of those previously done by Jim Cawthorn. I do like these new covers, they do grab your attention. Can you tell that this is a science fiction magazine? You certainly couldn’t with the last of the John Carnell issues. And we’re also (at last!) seeing some interior illustration as well – it was much missed.

The issue starts with a call-to-arms. We begin with a spirited Editorial from Mike Moorcock attempting to allay concerns that the new artistic approach in the magazine will be at a cost to the entertainment provided by reading old-style science fiction. It’s a convincing argument, although I’m not sure that it will change the views of some of the old-time readers.

The hints are that readership numbers are up on the new magazine – possibly double the print run of the old Nova format. If this is new readers, or lapsed readers, then surely the opinion of ‘the oldsters’ will be less important?

To the stories themselves.

The Shores of Death (Part 1 of 2), by Michael Moorcock

So we begin with the first part of a two-part serial written by the editor of the magazine. And at first glance, the title is straight out of the Pulp-SF era, a tad over-melodramatic.

Look: more artwork! (by James Cawthorn)

Nevertheless, the story is promising, although typically dour. The future for Humanity seems bleak as our galaxy colliding with another means the end of all we know soon.  In addition to this, travel to other places seems to be difficult, if not near impossible – most of those who try to travel long distances away from Earth either die or are driven mad. Our hero of the story, Clovis Marca, is searching for something – an answer, a solution, a source of inner peace before the end, perhaps. He is pursued by people – one is Fastina Cahmin, a young woman, the other the enigmatic Take, who may have an answer for Clovis, though he’s not saying (yet) what it is.

So again, this is an old-style pulp story given new sensibility. There’s sex and lots of inner angst, as Clovis is driven to search for answers. It has that tone of what I’m now noticing as a British theme that the future will be bad and will get worse, and all ends abruptly to be continued next month, but it feels like a lot of fuss about nothing special, which is never good for a story, I find. It’s another so-so effort from the editor, though not as bad as Goodbye Miranda. 3 out of 5.

Private Shape, by Sydney J. Bounds

Another of the old guard making a return to the new magazine. This is an odd one – a Marlow-esque attempt to tell a detective-noir story from the viewpoint of a shape-changing private detective. Didn’t really work for me. 3 out of 5.

Integrity, by P. F. Woods

Another friend of the editor, this is Barrington J. Bailey under his nom de plume, who appeared most recently in the May-June 1964 issue. Integrity is described in the heading as “a story of a Goldwater paradise” about a future ‘Free America’ where shooting everything and everybody for social placement seems common. I get the impression that it’s meant to shock, or at least warn, but it just seems like reality magnified to an unrealistic degree, and therefore loses credibility to me.  3 out of 5.

I Remember, Anita, by Langdon Jones

By contrast I liked this one more. The second story in successive issues by relative newcomer Langdon Jones. I must admit that the title gave me concern as its title reminded me of the Moorcock story last issue, but I’m glad to say that this one was better. It is a love story which initially reads as if it could be published in a mainstream magazine but has a science-fictional twist in the tale at the end. Surprisingly sexy and shocking. This is better than his last story and shows surprising potential. 4 out of 5.

Andromeda, by Clifford C. Reed

Last seen in March 1964, Cliff Reed gives us another dystopian tale. Andromeda is a protest story in a time of strict control, and the consequences to a young woman who dares to speak up in a totalitarian society on “Free Speech Sunday”. It’s another nicely told story, showing how a figure of protest can become a focus point when she chooses to die rather than remain in captivity. A talky tale. 3 out of 5.

New Experience, by E. C. Tubb

I could make a cliched comment about this being a "New Experience", having traditional sf writer Tubb in this new issue of New Worlds, but modesty forbids…

Nevertheless, the return of Tubb is an interesting one. I liked his last serial, Window on the Moon in New Worlds (April – June 1963) at the beginning, although it was a bit of a mess at the end. I was hoping that this story was better.

The story itself is little more than what I can only imagine is a bad drug trip wrapped up in a basic science-fictional idea that scientists are searching for a drug that will remove painful memories. Like a lot of inner-space stories it involves ideas of god-like deities.

It’s certainly different to Window on the Moon, and although it covers similar ideas to stories from the end of the Carnell era – I suspect that it might be one left over in the pile, so to speak – it is better than most of those other drug-addled stories. I can see why Moorcock would like it, as it clearly plays to his William S. Burroughs-ian interests. But for someone like me whose drug-taking extends to the odd cup of tea it leaves me unmoved. Self-obsessed and yet surprisingly dull. 3 out of 5.

The point that the long-established writer’s name has not been used on the front cover of the magazine to sell it, whilst relative new writer Michael Moorcock’s has, is rather telling of the new approach to the magazine. Will Moorcock’s name grab the attention more than Tubb’s?

The return of the book review column shows Burroughs mentioned by Moorcock again as he extols the virtues of J G Ballard and his new book The Terminal Beach.

James Colvin (don’t forget, a pseudonym of Moorcock and Barrington Bayley, which must make editorial meetings interesting!) similarly praises John Carnell’s latest publications – a ‘best-of’ New Worlds from 1961-63, published in America, and his first publication here since stepping away from New Worlds called New Writings in SF.

Honesty time – I tried reading it myself last month and really disliked it, as it seemed to be a issue of old-style New Worlds published in paperback form. It was tired, overwrought and had what I saw as all of the weaknesses of the old magazine but in a book form. I couldn’t finish it.

The review here disagrees with my view, considerably, being “a good start to the series which promises to be one of the most popular and influential ever to be published in this country.”  Hmm.

Of the short book reviews there’s a mixture of fairly un-original fiction, often not the best of the writers involved, and some excellent non-fiction. I was amused by the summary of Robert A Heinlein’s  Revolt in 2100 as “really scraping the bottom of the barrel here. 3 stories on overworked themes by SF’s shadow-Hemingway.” I quite liked them.

In terms of the Letters, there’s more debate on the issue raised in the Editorial, of the point of difficult books over simpler fare, (summarised as “Ulysses is a classic and Finnegan’s Wake a dud”) and a plea to recognise the range in current sf – there is room for everything from Clarke to Burroughs. A sort of “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water!” kind of thing.

As ever, the reader’s ratings of recent issues make interesting reading, to see if the critical mass feel the same as I did. No surprises to see Ballard doing well, but Goodbye Miranda came fourth – did they read the same story as me?

Summing up

I’m now starting to get an idea of what Moorcock is trying to achieve here. In this new incarnation of New Worlds he clearly wishes to move the genre forward but is also conscious of maintaining links to the past. There is not a complete break with the traditions of the past but there is a clear determination to move towards softer science and more literary material. It hasn’t always worked for me this issue, but I can now see where I think things are going. It should make things interesting. More change…. Exciting times.

On this new schedule the next issue will be out at the end of October. However, I am hoping that I’ve finally been able to get hold of a regular supply of Science Fantasy magazine, which should be out next month. Until next time…

[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

[August 25, 1964] Combat Zones (September 1964 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Wars Near and Far

The involvement of the United States in the conflict in Vietnam reached a turning point this month, with the signing of a joint resolution of Congress by President Lyndon Baines Johnson on August 10.


Doesn't look like much, for a piece of paper sending the nation into an undeclared war.

In response to the Gulf of Tonkin incident of August 2, when three North Vietnamese torpedo boats attacked the United States destroyer Maddox, the resolution grants broad powers to the President to use military force in the region. All members of Congress except Senator Wayne Morse of Oregon, Senator Ernest Gruening of Alaska, and Representative Adam Clayton Powell, Jr., of New York voted for the resolution. (Morse and Gruening voted against it, while Powell only voted present during roll call. Perhaps that was a wise move on his part.)

The name of the Navy vessel involved in the battle reminds me of the tragic domestic conflict in the USA over racial segregation. That's because restaurant owner and unsuccessful political candidate Lester Maddox shut down his Pickrick diner rather than obey a judicial order to integrate it. Let's hope this is the last we ever hear from this fellow.


This is a recently released recording of a news conference he gave in July defending his refusal to serve black customers. Please don't buy it.

The Battle of the Bands

With all that going on, it's a relief to turn to less violent forms of combat. After withdrawing from the top of the American popular music charts for a couple of months, the Beatles launched an all-out assault with the release of their first feature film, an amusing romp called A Hard Day's Night.


Wilfrid Brambell is very funny in the role of Paul's grandfather.

Of course, the title song shot up to Number One.


I should have known better than to think we'd seen the last of these guys.

Not to be outdone, crooner Dean Martin, no fan of rock 'n' roll, drove back the British invaders with a new version of the 1947 ballad Everybody Loves Somebody, proving that teenagers aren't the only ones buying records these days by replacing the Fab Four at the top.


The Hit Version; as opposed to the forgotten version he sang on the radio in 1948.

His victory was short-lived, however, as a three-woman army entered the fray. Just a few days ago, The Supremes replaced him with their Motown hit Where Did Our Love Go?


I assume he does not refer to Dean Martin.

Order of Battle

The stories in the latest issue of Fantastic feature all kinds of warfare, both literal and metaphoric.


Cover art by Robert Adragna

Planet of Change, by J. T. McIntosh


Interior illustrations also by Adragna

We begin our military theme with a courtroom drama, in the tradition of The Caine Mutiny. This time, of course, the court-martial involves the star-faring members of an all-male Space Navy rather than sailors.

Before the story begins, the crew of a starship refused to land on a particular planet, despite the direct orders of the captain. This seems reasonable, as previous expeditions to the mysterious world disappeared. The mutineers obeyed their commander in all other ways.

During the trial of the second-in-command, who subtly persuaded the others to rebel, the prosecuting attorney investigates the defendant's background. It turns out that records about his past life and service record were conveniently destroyed. Under questioning, the strange truth about the planet comes out.

At this point, I thought the officer was going to be exposed as a shape-shifting alien in human form. I have to give McIntosh credit for coming up with something more original. The secret of the planet is a very strange one. Without giving too much away, let's just say that previous voyages to the place didn't really vanish.

Because the story takes place almost entirely at the trial, much of it is taken up by a long flashback narrated by the defendant. This has a distancing effect, which makes the imaginative plot a little less effective. The motive of the second-in-command, and others like him, may seem peculiar, even distasteful. As if the author knew this, he has the prosecutor react in the same way. Overall, it's worth reading once, but I doubt it will ever be regarded as a classic.

Three stars.

Beyond the Line, by William F. Temple


Illustrated by Virgil Finlay

A war can take place inside one's self also. The main character in this sentimental tale is a woman who is well aware that her asymmetrical face and body are unattractive. After a childhood spent escaping into fairy tales, and later writing her own, she decides to face the harsh truth of reality. Just as she does so, however, a rose appears out of nowhere in her lonely bedroom. It is asymmetrical also, and fades more quickly than a normal flower.

So far this reads like a romantic fantasy, but the explanation for the rose involves concepts from science fiction. Some readers may find it too much of a tearjerker, but I enjoyed it. It reminded me, in some ways, of Robert F. Young and his reworking of old stories, mixed with his emotional love stories. It's very well written, and is likely to pull a few heartstrings.

Four stars.

Fire Sale, by Laurence M. Janifer

Back to the world of armies and soldiers in this variation on one of the oldest themes in fantasy literature. The Devil appears to an important American officer. His Soviet counterpart is willing to sacrifice a large number of his own people to Satan, in exchange for killing the American. The Devil asks the officer if he can come up with a better offer. The solution to the dilemma is a grim one, which could only happen in this modern age.

This mordant little fable gets right to the point, without excess verbiage. You may be a little tired of this kind of story, but it accomplishes what it sets out to do.

Three stars.

When the Idols Walked (Part 2 of 2), by John Jakes


Illustrated by Emsh

It would be tedious to repeat the previous adventures of the mighty barbarian Brak, as related in last issue. The magazine has to take up four pages in its synopsis of Part One. Suffice to say that he faces the wrath of an evil sorceress and the invading army following her. The story eventually builds up to a full scale war between the Bad Guys and the Good Guys, but first our hero has to survive other deadly challenges.

In our last episode, as the narrator of an old-time serial might say, Brak wound up in an underground crematorium, from which nobody has ever returned. In a manner that involves a great deal of good luck, he finds a way out, leading to a rushing river. Next comes an encounter that could be edited out without changing the plot. Brak fights a three-headed avian monster, whose heads grow back as soon as they are chopped off. As you can see, this is stolen directly from Greek myth, and the author even calls the creature a bird-hydra.

Once he escapes from the beast, he finds the city of the Good Guys under attack from without, by the war machines of the Bad Guys, as well as from within, by the giant walking statue controlled by the sorceress. A heck of a lot of fighting and bloodshed follow, until Brak gets to the mechanical controls operating another giant statue, as foreshadowed in Part One.

Jake can certainly write vividly, and the action never stops for a second. The story is really just one damned thing after another, and certain things that showed up in the first part never come back. What happened to the strangling ghost? Whatever became of the magician who fought the sorceress? This short novel is never boring, but derivative and loosely plotted.

Two stars.

A Vision of the King, by David R. Bunch

Like many stories from a unique writer, this grim tale is difficult to describe. In brief, the narrator watches a figure approach with three dark boats. They talk, and the narrator refuses to go with him. As far as I can tell, it's about death, one of the author's favorite themes. It's not a pleasant thing to read, but I can't deny that the style has a certain power.

Two stars.

Hear and Obey, by Jack Sharkey


Illustrated by George Schelling

War can be waged with words instead of weapons, of course. In this version of the familiar tale of a genie granting wishes, a man purchases Aladdin's lamp from one of those weird little shops that show up in fantasy fiction so often. The genie takes everything the fellow says literally. (It reminds me of the old Lenny Bruce joke about the guy who says to the genie "Make me a malted.")

After a lot of frustrated conversation, the man finally gets a million dollars in cash. Since we have to have a twist ending, the fellow says something that the genie takes literally, with bad results. The tone of the story changes suddenly from light comedy to gruesome horror, which is disconcerting.

Two stars.

2064, or Thereabouts, by Darryl R. Groupe

Let me put on my deerstalker hat and do a little detective work here. Take a look at the author's name. Remind you of anything? Well, there's a first name starting with D, the middle initial R, and a last name that is almost like group, which means a collection of objects, just like the word bunch.

Even before reading the story, we can guess that this is David R. Bunch again, under a different name to weakly disguise his second appearance. Once we get started on it, the style and theme are unmistakable.

The setting is a dystopian future full of people whose bodies have been almost entirely replaced by machines. An artist visits, eager to do a portrait of the most extreme example of the new form of humanity, with only the absolute minimum of flesh left. Their encounter leads to a grim ending.

The plot is less coherent than I've made it sound. Like the other story by Bunch in this issue, it holds a certain eerie fascination for the reader, even as it confuses and disturbs.

Two stars.

Mopping Up the Battlefield

With the exception of a single good story, this was yet another issue full of mediocrity and disappointment. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood because of the looming threat of global warfare abroad, and a new civil war at home. I should probably relax and watch a little television to get my mind off it, even if I have to put up with those lousy commercials.

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