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[March 27, 1964] The End of an Era? Not With a Bang…. ( New Worlds, April 1964)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

Well, here we are, with what at one time would have been the last ever issue of New Worlds. Since this was announced in November last year, I have flip-flopped between resignation and despair.

With the time arrived, I must admit that I was curious to see what the final issue would be like. Would it go the way of many others before it, in that typically understated British manner, with a polite “Thank You” and a cheery wave? Or would it rage against the unfairness of it all, snarling and roaring like a wounded animal, determined to show everyone in a dazzling blaze of glory that the decision to cancel was wrong?

Interestingly, last month’s issue had given a few hints that it was going to be more of the latter than the former. Editor Mr. John Carnell had accused the genre of being dull, of producing little that was memorable, and yet in the same issue given the rallying call of The Terminal Beach, an undeniably memorable yet undefinable piece of what now seems to be called “New Wave” science fiction. As a result, I wasn’t sure how this one would go. (And as it turns out, there is a lifeline, of which I will explain more later.)

The issue at hand

To begin with, we have Mr. Carnell’s full description of the state of the genre at the end of 1963, as hinted at last month.
It shows some interesting results, if a poll of about 350 correspondents tells us anything. Sf readership is getting older, presumably as readers stay with the genre, but there is an intriguing development with an increase in younger readers – much needed, perhaps, and also reflecting the sea change in the genre. Perhaps most importantly, with the improved accessibility of paperbacks it is perhaps no surprise that magazine sales are down and book sales are up. The summary ends on a positive note, that sf is now perhaps more mainstream than ever before – but it does make me wonder what those who like their sf to be off-kilter and underground think about it.

To the stories themselves. 

beyond the reach of storms, by Mr. Donald Malcolm

We begin the stories in this issue with the last in Mr. Malcolm’s Planetary Expedition Team (P.E.T.) stories. The most recent was in the March 1964 issue. In the tradition of many old-style s-f stories, it starts with an unusual astronomical discovery – that of a star with a hole in the middle! Of course, our team have to travel through it. I’m not sure about the scientific plausibility of such a thing, but the novelette is pretty traditional s-f – entertaining yet nothing particularly startling. I have grown to like these stories, but they are not especially memorable. 3 out of 5.

megapolitan underground , by Mr. William Spencer

And this is this month’s attempt to be Ballard.  After Mr Spencer’s tale of automotive madness last month, this is another story about urban angst, this time created by travelling on moving walkways and being bombarded with advertising images. It made me think of a never-ending journey on the London Underground, although it is really an alternative take on Mr. Robert Heinlein’s The Roads Must Roll. Again, it’s not something particularly new, nor particularly original. It seems that we have had a few of Mr. Spencer’s stories from the left-over pile. 3 out of 5.

now is the time , by Mr. Steve Hall

As computers in the future may become part of everyday life, here we have a story of another potential use: the manipulation of a political election by computers. The premise seems a little far-fetched to me – who would have thought such things were possible? In any event, the story does little more than illustrate the idea.  3 out of 5.

Farewell, Dear Brother, by Mr. P.F. Woods

As the last ever short story of New Worlds (at least, so we had been led to believe until this month), I’m pretty sure that this story by Mr. Woods (also known as Mr. Barrington J. Bayley) has been deliberately placed here in the magazine because of its title. It is a story of the broken relationship between a twin and his feckless brother, the more reckless of whom has been in a space accident and is now kept at home in the attic, out of the way of visitors. It’s meant to be creepy and despite the dodgy science (a planet with no temperature?) is quite readable in its portrayal of a dysfunctional family. But is it really sf? 3 out of 5.

open prison , by Mr. James White

And now the last installment of the final(?) serial in New Worlds. Following on from last month, we’re back to our story of civilians and military personnel trying to escape from a planet they’ve been imprisoned upon. Usually in such a story, the last part of this three-part escape story is meant to be the exciting bit, where our heroes and heroines leave the prison planet despite all the odds and return to normality. The problem is that it ends without too many surprises. With three weeks to go before E-Day there’s tension between the military group and the civilians, not to mention between the men and the women, but in the end, guess what happens?

This feels like a bit of a damp squib to finish a rather disappointing tale. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it, except perhaps for that whiff of male-chauvinism that pervades the pages occasionally and that I felt more sorry for the alien Bugs killed than the humans trying to escape. But it’s a frustratingly mundane tale with a weak ending that is not up to the standard of Mr. White’s Sector General stories, which I enjoyed much more. In short, I pretty much worked this one out from the start, and barely got what I expected. 3 out of 5.

At the back of this issue we have the tying up of loose ends. There’s a Farewell Editorial, which gives us the news that although Mr. Carnell is moving onto pastures new, we will see the return of New Worlds and Science Fantasy, but under new editorship. For New Worlds, Mr. Michael Moorcock is to take the reins in a new incarnation of the magazine, which I think should be interesting and different.

There’s another short set of Book Reviews by Mr. Leslie Flood. This is one part of the magazine I will miss most, as Mr. Flood’s brief yet insightful comments have led me to try many books I might have missed otherwise over the years. This time he looks at Mr. Robert Sheckley’s ‘mordantly successful’ Journey Beyond Tomorrow, Mr. Robert P. Mills’s “superlative collection” The Best of Fantasy & Science Fiction 11th Series (really?) and two new books in a new series, which confirm what we have said earlier this issue, that the future of sf may be in book form rather than in magazines. Even when one of them is Mr. E.C. Tubb’s Window On the Moon, which ironically was serialised in New Worlds last year.

Lastly, we have a final Postmortem letters page, which reflects the plaudits and dingbats showered upon the magazine in its coverage of sf over the last few years. It is noticeable that one of the letters is from new editor, Mr. Michael Moorcock, and another from Mr. Moorcock’s artist friend, Mr. Jim Cawthorn, gestures which bode well for the future, perhaps.

Summing up

This last issue of New Worlds in its present incarnation is sadly not what I hoped it would be. It’s an issue which feels tired and rather beaten. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it, yet it is not as memorable as last month’s issue. Whether this is because of money, because of a lack of interest or just that Mr. Carnell has run out of steam, I do feel that the magazine is leaving not with a bang but with a whimper. It is just not as good as some of the issues that preceded it, although it reflects the transition taking place in some quarters of the British genre scene.

Which then leads me to consider where we are in Britain with sf in 1964. As the Survey at the beginning of this issue shows, the reading habits and even the readership of sf are changing. We are in a very different place from where we were a decade ago, and whether we like it or not, much of this change is as a result of the work of Mr. John Carnell here at New Worlds. I think that it’ll be interesting to see where this goes with new leadership, although at the same time I suspect that not everyone is going to like it.

What I don’t know at this stage is when the new New Worlds will appear. Settling into a new form may take time, although it seems Mr. Moorcock has had a couple of months to get things together. I did notice that the magazine didn’t say anything about an issue next month, so nothing is definite about when I actually get the next one.  If and when a new issue does appear, you'll be hearing from me about it here on the Journey, so watch this space!

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TV

[March 25, 1964] The Face of Terror (The Twilight Zone, Season 5, Episodes 20-24)

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by Natalie Devitt

The quality of the episodes on The Twilight Zone has been pretty inconsistent this past month. One thing that did remain constant was that most of the main characters found themselves in some pretty frightening situations. The month’s entries include a story about a young woman being chased by a stranger dressed in black, a man waiting for his execution, a journalist interviewing an actress who may be keeping a deadly secret, and a man discovering that his television set shows his infidelities for his wife to see.

Spur of the Moment, by Richard Matheson

A young woman named Anne, portrayed by Diana Hyland (who you may have seen on Alfred Hitchcock Presents) goes horseback riding on the grounds of her family’s sprawling estate in Spur of the Moment. While out riding, “a strange nightmarish woman in black” riding a black horse appears, looking down on Anne from on top of a hill. The lady lets out a scream. Then, Anne is chased on horseback by the older woman wearing a long black cloak. She shouts out Anne’s name and begs her to stop, but the woman’s pleas fall on deaf ears as Anne rides to the safety of her home.

Once inside, a disheveled Anne tells her parents and her fiancé about the woman. She cries, “I think if she caught me, she would have killed me.“ In the role of her mother is Marsha Hunt, who just appeared in The Outer Limit’s episode ZZZZZ. Anne’s mother assures her that the whole thing must be a misunderstanding, while Anne’s fiancée, Robert, jokes that the whole incident could be “a warning” to her to cancel their upcoming nuptials.

Just then the bride-to-be is visited by her ex-fiancée, David. He tells Anne, “Break your engagement. You broke ours.“ Anne’s father (Philip Ober of From Here to Eternity) forces David to leave by gunpoint. With this many bad omens, will Robert and Anne’s wedding go on as planned?

Spur of the Moment has so much potential that it never seems to totally fulfill. The premise is interesting enough, even with the identity of the woman in black being pretty easy to figure out. The real twist is actually much less predictable and quite good. That said, the screenplay could have used a little more character development because most of the characters are pretty one-dimensional. This is especially true when it comes to Anne, who is obnoxious and entitled.

In addition to the screenplay, the episode is marred by over-acting by otherwise decent actors. Then there is the makeup used to age some of the actors, which is a bit of a distraction. As much as I wanted to love this episode with its striking image of the lady with the black cape on the stallion, two and a half stars is all I can give to Spur of the Moment.

An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, by Robert Enrico

An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge is as the opening monologue announces, “a film shot in France” and it is Robert Enrico’s adaptation of Ambrose Bierce’s classic short story by the same name. Playing Peyton Farquhar is French actor Roger Jacquet. Peyton is about to be hung by Union soldiers during the Civil War. Prior to his scheduled hanging at Owl Creek Bridge, Peyton looks back on his life, thinking mainly of his family. Somehow as Peyton is falling from the bridge, his noose miraculously snaps and he falls into the water below. Peyton swims away, narrowly escaping the soldiers. He then travels through the woods in order to be reunited with his loved ones, or does he?

An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge is easily the most impressive episode this month. As Peyton is escaping, the audience see things from Peyton’s perspective, watching his senses grow stronger and he notices everything around him. Visually, this is episode is incredibly ambitious. There is underwater photography, and nature shots that appear to employ a wide variety of camera lenses and filters. The episode also uses quite a few different type of camera shots with plenty to stare at in each and every shot.

There is not much dialogue in this short film, but what little spoken word that is used really helps to put the viewer in Peyton‘s place. This includes an exchange between the Union men, which is slowed down as they try unsuccessfully to catch him. There is also the sound of birds chirping and Peyton’s watch ticking. An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge is a far cry from your usual television fare; this 1962 Cannes Film Festival winner for Best Short Subject screams European art house cinema. It is a fantastic episode, even if aside from the conclusion, it seems a little bit out of place with the series. In any case, the episode earns its five stars.

Queen of the Nile, by Charles Beaumont

In Queen of the Nile, Ann Blyth of Mildred Pierce plays “Pamela Morris, renowned movie star, whose name is a household word and whose face is known to millions.” Lee Philips, who last appeared on The Twilight Zone in the haunting Passage on the Lady Anne, plays cynical reporter Jordan; he has an appointment to interview the ageless actress at her mansion.

During the interview, he notices some other things. Despite more than 20 years passing since she was painted in one of her portraits on display in the house, she looks exactly the same. He cannot resist the urge to ask her, “Just how old are you?” She tells him that, “A woman in my position can’t afford to have any secrets.” After playing some games, she claims to be 38. But in order for that to be true, she would have had to have made some of her biggest pictures when she was a small child, which would have meant that she was too young to have made her 1940 breakout performance in Queen of the Nile.

Later, he learns that there were two Queen of the Nile movies, one of which was made during the silent era. The actress in the original died in a tragic accident and her replacement looked remarkably similar to the Pamela Morris. Is it possible that Pamela Morris really starred in both films and has not aged a single day in all in the years since? If so, what is her secret staying so youthful?

Queen of the Nile not is not terribly creative or deep. Everyone ages around Pamela while she stays the same, like some sort of Dorian Gray character. We have all seen similar stories countless times. In fact, The Twilight Zone’s Long Live Walter Jameson had one such story. Luckily, the acting and overall execution adds credibility to this television equivalent of a B movie. Simply put, Queen of the Nile is entertaining, which is why it receives three stars.

What’s in the Box, by Martin Goldsmith

What’s in the Box tells the story of a couple that hires a new repairman to fix their television set. Rod Serling calls the man “factory-trained, prompt, honest.” Academy Award nominee Joan Blondell plays Phyllis, who has her suspicions about her husband’s faithfulness. Once the repairman finishes the job, her husband Joe, played by fellow Academy Award nominee William Demarest notices the television is showing what he thought were private moments with his mistress.

In the meantime, he tries to prevent Phyllis from watching the television. Not long after, he notices that the television has begun showing recent arguments with his wife. Thinking his wife is responsible, he begins to ask her questions: “Are you sure you never saw that repair guy before?” She calls him “cracked.” Unfortunately for Joe, things continue to get worse and the television begins predicting the couple’s future conflicts.

What’s in the Box revisits some of the ideas explored in the previous episode, A Most Unusual Camera. This time around, the story had some incredibly annoying characters played by extremely talented actors in what is probably the most depressing entry since Uncle Simon. The episode lacked sympathetic characters and even the faintest glimmer of hope. Two stars is all I can give to What’s in the Box.

This month on The Twilight Zone featured characters in some terrifying circumstances. Perhaps the most shocking thing is how much the quality of the episodes vary these days. Two entries were enjoyable. As for the remaining two offerings, one had potential and the other was a bit of a disappointment. At this point, I think it is safe to say that we are witnessing the last gasps of a once great series.

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Magazine

[March 23, 1964] What's New?  Not Much (April 1964 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Things that Came

Judging by the unstoppable juggernaut known as the Beatles, it would seem that not much has changed in the last month or so.  Following the massive success of I Want to Hold Your Hand, which remained Number One in the USA for all of February and half of March, the four Liverpudlians had another smash hit.  Perhaps best known for its frequent use of the phrase Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, the upbeat rock ditty She Loves You is currently the most popular song on this side of the Atlantic.


Will they beat Elvis?

Of course, new things continue to happen.  The Ford Motor Company just produced a snazzy sports car called the Mustang.


It even matches that lady's outfit.

Voters in New Hampshire overwhelmingly approved the first legal state lottery in the nation since 1895.  Governor John W. King bought the first ticket.


He'll look even happier if he wins.

The Issue at Hand

Similarly, the latest issue of Fantastic offers a touch of the new, along with a lot of things that will seem familiar.


by Frank Bruno

Centipedes of Space, by Daniel F. Galouye

Here's a story filled with the traditional elements of space opera.  The main character is an Admiral in command of a fleet of two thousand starships.  (Writers always seem to assume that military space vessels will resemble Navy ships.  I suppose it’s the romance of the high seas.) An enemy armada threatens a group of inhabited worlds.  To reach the area in time to stop the attack, he must guide his flotilla through a dangerous region of space.  Few ships have survived such a journey. 

Bizarre creatures, from giant worms to dinosaurs, attack the warships.  Even stranger things happen, such as a naked woman suddenly appearing on the Admiral's flagship.  The phenomena can't be explained as hallucinations, because ships are destroyed and men die.  (There are no women in this future Space Navy.) Will anyone survive to stop the invasion?

Despite some originality, decent writing, and good characterization, this is a typical space adventure.  There's an explanation for the weird happenings, but it's not particularly convincing or interesting.

Three stars.

The Dunstable Horror, by Arthur Pendragon

(Based on what little I know about the legends of Camelot, I presume the author is using a pseudonym.  Further evidence for this is the fact that the narrator of this tale of eldritch horror is named Grail.)

In 1920, a British researcher arrives in New England to investigate an Indian burial ground.  He meets the owner of a lumber mill.  The fellow wants to look at the area also, as a possible source of wood.  Complicating matters is a strange blue light seen by his workers.  If that isn't spooky enough, the bodies of drowned animals keep showing up in the local river.  It won't surprise you to find out that this involves the grave of an Indian sorcerer.

There aren't many surprises in this imitation of Lovecraft.  Nitpickers will notice that the phrase comic book appears, although those didn't exist in 1920.

Two stars.

A Ritual for Souls, by Albert Teichner

We get a break from old-fashioned storytelling with this offbeat yarn.  Very peculiar aliens arrive on a depopulated Earth.  They take on human form in order to study the extinct species, which they think of as soulless.  They decide to imitate human behavior as well.  This turns out to be a bad idea.

I'm not sure what the author is trying to say in this dark satire of humanity's foibles.  It seems to be, at least partly, an attack on the philosophy of behaviorism.  At least it's different.

Two stars.

The Rule of Names, by Ursula K. LeGuin

Back to the familiar, with a tale of wizards and dragons.  The only magician on a small island is a middle-aged man, short and fat, without much skill.  A seafarer arrives, who also happens to be an enchanter.  It seems that a wizard made off with a dragon's treasure some time ago.  The new arrival thinks the local magician has it.  He's in for a surprise.

Deftly written, this light fantasy is reasonably entertaining, but the twist ending is predictable.  Particularly notable is the author's creation of an interesting fantasy world consisting only of islands.  Perhaps she'll make further use of it in the future.

Three stars.

The Devil Came to Our Valley, by Fulton T. Grant

This month's Fantasy Classic comes from the March 1937 issue of Bluebook.  I hesitate to call it a Classic, and it definitely isn't Fantasy.  The introduction by Sam Moskowitz tries to convince me that it's part of the Lost Race subgenre, but I don't buy it.  The isolated group of people in the story are very real.  Known as the Jackson Whites, they inhabit a mountainous area of New Jersey.  Their ancestry isn't clear, although the author presumes they're a mixture of Indian, African, and European.  Whatever the truth may be, there is nothing supernatural about these folks, in reality or in fiction.
An orphaned girl is not one of the Jackson Whites, but is raised among them.  She falls in love with a young man of the people.  The community thinks of them as married, without the need for ceremony.  A wealthy man shows up in a nearby town.  The woman is drawn to the luxuries he can provide.  This leads to murder, a dramatic courtroom trial, and a self-sacrificing gesture by the woman.

This tragic tale walks a thin line between genuine emotion and melodrama, often falling on the wrong side.  There's plenty of local color, although I can't vouch for how accurate it is.  Some of the narration is beautifully written, some of it is overwritten.  The author appears to feel great sympathy for the Jackson Whites, but also portrays them as ignorant and lawless.  Although not speculative fiction in any sense of the word, the background is exotic enough to appeal to readers of such.

Three stars.

Summing Up

Without any outstanding stories, this is a disappointing issue.  Neither the traditional tales nor the one unusual piece offer much excitement, although some are enjoyable enough.  I guess it goes to show that, however much we might hunger for something new, change isn't always an improvement.

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Movies

[March 19, 1964] When Vampires Rule the World (Ubaldo Ragona and Sidney Salkow's The Last Man on Earth)

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by Rosemary Benton

Horror meets SF

As creators and Hollywood producers have found, horror is a versatile complementary genre that has been instrumental to the fear factor within thrillers, the stark human experience in film noir, and the complex depth of character behind a compelling villain. Recently, the genre has been going through a bit of a self-imposed revolution as it moves away from late 1800s and early 1900s stock-stories to pair off with 1950s science fiction literature such as John Wyndham's book The Day of the Triffids. Comedy has increasingly been a partnered with horror, as in The Tingler (1959), the self-aware movie The Comedy of Terrors (January 1964), and the upcoming freaky-family sitcom The Addams Family.

Those who have made a name for themselves as character actors within horror (Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, Christopher Lee, Bela Lugosi, Peter Cushing, and of course Vincent Price) are more and more finding themselves in roles that are written to be the very embodiments of the characters they were initially typecast as. While they take on these roles with flair and aplomb, seeing them act outside of their comfortable and accommodating niches is an exciting opportunity for their fans. This month the debonair gentleman-villain/tragic aristocrat character actor Vincent Price was given the opportunity to showcase his acting talent in the newly released film, The Last Man on Earth, a film that promised to be a stark departure from his previous roles.

Based on the 1954 novel I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, The Last Man on Earth follows the depressing life of Robert Morgan (played by Vincent Price) after a deadly plague sweeps the planet, turning infected people and animals into shambling, blood thirsty vampire ghouls. Even with the book's heavy reliance on internal dialogue and the writing's somewhat disjointed flow, a brilliant movie adaptation of I Am Legend would be entirely possible in the hands of a succinct screenwriter, a brooding leading actor, and a director capable of bringing severe emotional distress to the screen. Unfortunately, despite the best efforts of the talented team behind Last Man, none of these elements quite linked up with one another. The result is severely disappointing.

What Happened?

Robert Morgan was once a scientist working to find a cure to the plague creeping across the globe. But when the disease took his neighbors, his fellow scientists, then his child and finally his wife, Robert found himself alone with the terrible burden of quite possibly being the last human being alive.

Boarding up his house and festooning it with garlic strands, crosses and mirrors, Robert whiles away his evenings making stakes and farming garlic as the zombie-like vampires beat away at the outside of his house. Alcohol, records, books and home videos are some comfort, but also stand as constant reminders of the civilization he is now bereft of. During the day when the vampires seek shelter from the sun Morgan methodically sweeps the area to hunt them down, stake them, load them into his station wagon and drive the bodies out to an ever burning plague pit.

After three years of this grim routine Robert happens to come across a woman named Ruth Collins (played by Franca Bettoia) who is out walking in the sunlight. He chases her down and brings her back to his home. Robert soon deduces that she is one of the infected, but comes to find out that the vampire disease has been contained with a drug that must be taken regularly lest the victim lose their sanity. She tells him that she was sent to spy on him by order of the new society of vampires she belongs to. The group intends to find a way to take revenge on Robert for killing many of their number as they hid from the sun. She explains to him that he is the new monster in this world, killing during the day while the new norm sleep.

After a short altercation Ruth becomes unconscious. While she is out Robert filters Ruth's blood through his own body via a makeshift dialysis setup, effectively curing her of the vampirism. But Robert's discovery of a cure is too little too late. As Ruth and Robert come to realize the miracle that has taken place a vampire breaks into the house and bites Ruth, effectively ending her brief return to full humanity. Just then black vans full of heavily armed vampires roll up and begin to slaughter the feral ghouls stalking around Robert's property. Their mission is to exterminate Robert, just as he has been doing to any sleeping vampires he has come across. Fleeing the house and running into a church, Robert is pursued and fatally wounded. Spitting venom and insults at the vampires, Robert crumples on the steps to the pulpit and dies as Ruth looks on. The church begins to fill with worshipers as Ruth walks out. She comforts a crying child saying that there is nothing to be afraid of anymore, and then the film fades to black. 

What went wrong

To preface my oncoming analysis of The Last Man on Earth, I wholeheartedly believe that a movie adaptation of a book is not obligated to be a carbon copy of its source material. Movies such as Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) and The Most Dangerous Game (1932) prove this well, both of which were wonderful films even though the creators took liberties with the characters, scenes, and atmosphere of the literature they were based on. That being said, given what the writers of Last Man chose to keep from Matheson's novel and what they chose to tweak, the movie just doesn't come across as raw, desperate and angry as it should be. The blame lies primarily in the music, and as much as it pains me to say this, in the casting of Vincent Price as Robert Morgan.

Upon hearing the opening trills of the music, heralding the credits to begin rolling onto the screen, I felt something was wrong. The music blares loudly over the words with a cliché cacophony of horns and violin before switching to a melodramatic lilting tune, then back to clashing force full of a powerful energy completely at odds with the fragile looking, depressed Vincent Price mulling around his boarded up home. The musical scoring doesn't get any better from there. At times when the audience is supposed to feel the tedium of Robert Morgan's existence there is music that makes you feel as if his daily routine is full of exciting danger. In actuality it is full of mundane horror as he forces himself awake day after day with only the acts of eating, repairing his home, and exterminating the sleeping vampires (men and women alike) to keep his mind occupied.

Most insultingly the entrance of Franca Bettoia's character brings with it a strange romantic subplot that seems to come out of the blue with little buildup and conflicting sincerity. The interplay between Price and Bettoia takes on a very jarring fast succession of shoulder shaking, menacing staring, hysterics and hugging. During all of this the score flips wildly between lovely crescendos and stricken horns blares and drum rolls to show betrayal and hurt. It's reminiscent of the sweeping operatic film scoring common of old horror films from Universal Pictures, but feels very out of date for a modern movie that is supposed to be seething with barely repressed despair and scant few moments of actual hope.

Finally, the visual reason the film fails to emote properly comes to rest on the unfortunately sub-par performance of Vincent Price. For a character who is fast coming to believe that he is the last uninfected human on Earth, Price plays the role of Robert Morgan with too much restraint. Robert Morgan is a man with a young family taken by the plague and who lived to see his wife and neighbors come after him from beyond the grave. Such a character should be deeply shaken and depressed as he goes through his remaining days with monotony and acceptance of a life alongside the undead.

Price, however, carries himself like someone who is physically fragile and emotionally cold. His rounded back and stiff-armed walk speak of a man afraid he might break a bone if he moves with more than a shuffle, as opposed to a barely middle-aged man with a heavy burden on his shoulders but a determination to survive. His emotional connection to the other characters in the story seems very distant as well. One could argue that this was a fault of the script, but when the audience sees him chasing the van carrying his still living daughter to the plague pit to be burned, Price is turned away from her body with little effort. He barely struggles at all, and walks away in a daze too easily for a man supposed to be a hysterical, grieving father.

At one point in the story Price's character encounters a ragged dog out in the daylight. His disappointment at learning that a wounded animal he brings home with him is infected is minimal, and in the next scene we see him burying a small bundle with a stake in it. There is little remorse in his posture or expression, even though he is burying the first living creature he has had contact with in three years (before he meets Ruth). Vincent Price just can't do desperation. He can emote long suffering sadness well as is evident in the scene when he visits his wife's tomb and when he is watching home movies and begins to laugh before breaking down into tears, but he just can't seem to nail down what it must be like for a character as raw, desperate and hungry for social contact as Robert Morgan.

The verdict

Sadly, this particular movie is only worthy of a two and a half star rating.

In terms of its competence as a whole, The Last Man on Earth is a solid enough science-fiction/horror movie from directors Sidney Salkow and Ubaldo Ragona, and will likely please the casual movie goer looking for a darker story. But given the material it had to work with in I Am Legend, the movie feels flat. Some films are better when you have read the novel beforehand, but this is not one of them. For those who are die hard fans of Vincent Price I would also avoid seeing this movie as it is hardly his best performance. Instead save your money for the upcoming Roger Corman film The Mask of the Red Death in June.

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Magazine

[March 17, 1964] It's all Downhill(April 1964 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

A friend of mine inquired about an obscure science fiction story the other day.  She expressed surprise that I had, in fact, read it, and wondered what my criteria were for choosing my reading material.  I had to explain that I didn't have any: I read everything published as science fiction and/or fantasy. 

My friend found this refrain from judgment admirable.  I think it's just a form of insanity, particularly as it subjects me to frequent painful slogs.  For instance, this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction continues the magazine's (occasionally abated) slide into the kaka.  With the exception of a couple of pieces, it's bad.  Beyond bad — dull.

The Issue at Hand


Cover by Jack Gaughan illustrating Into the Shop

Fred One, by James Ransom

We start off on reasonably sound footing, with a pair of preternaturally intelligent laboratory rats named Freds One and Two.  One is a genius, the brains of the operation.  The other, though possessed of a high order of intelligence for his kind, is clearly a sidekick.  It is not made clear whether the rats gained their smarts as a result of human intervention, or if they've always been bright and endure testing for their own reasons.

Not much happens, really.  The author relies on the humor of the conceit, writing with deadly earnestness from the brain rat's point of view.  The result is a fun but somewhat inconsequential story.  It might make a good cartoon someday.

Three stars.

Beware of the Dog, by Gahan Wilson

Here's a one-page vignette that's far better than the monthly Feghoots (which have recently stopped being produced).  I found it funny enough to read to my daughter.

Four stars.

Sun Creation, by B. Traven

Author Traven is some kind of ethnologist, a German who transplanted himself to Mexico and now translates native creation myths.  Sun Creation is about a brave warrior who makes a new sun after the old one is devoured by evil spirits; it's as good (if not better) than any of the Greek myths I grew up with.  I don't know if it belongs in this magazine, but it was my favorite piece of the issue.

Four stars.

A Piece of the Action, by Isaac Asimov

And now begins our downward slide.  The Good Doctor, brilliant as he may be in chemistry, has oft confessed to having a blind spot when it comes to math.  This is especially unfortunate as regards to this month's article, in which he tries to explain quantum mechanics and the discovery of Planck's constant.

The problem is, there are just some things you can't explain without math.  I remember being bored and frustrated with high school physics; it wasn't until college, when they taught us the calculus-based stuff that things really clicked.  I went on to take quantum mechanics my junior year in college (as part of an astrophysics curriculum).  Let me tell you, it is a subject that is absolutely beautiful with the proper mathematical underpinning…and utterly meaningless without it.

Asimov's explanation of the subject, bereft of any math, doesn't work.  I was barely able to follow along thanks to my prior education.  I can't imagine any of his readers will be able to make much of it.

My first two-star score for Dr. A.

Welcome, Comrade, by Simon Bagley

Ugh continues.  Here's a piece about a top secret project to orbit a brainwashing satellite.  The goal is to instill every human on Earth with a love for and inability to sway from American values.  You know: capitalism, democracy, and dispute resolution by fisticuffs.  The title gives away the ending, which you'd have seen miles away anyhow. 

Decent beginning, Analog-esque middle (especially if Bagley'd played it straight rather than satire), numbskull predictable ending.

Two stars.

Urgent Message for Mr. Prosser, by J. P. Sellers

Night watchman, so British that the rendition seems farcical, receives breathless calls at 1 AM.  The caller urgently desires to warn Mr. Prosser, the watchman's boss, that he is in danger of being poisoned by his wife.  Our protagonist meets with the caller one night and finds that he is, in fact, a dead ringer for Mr. Prosser.

The odd situation is never explained, though my guess is the caller is some sort of phantom made real out of the real Prosser's paranoid fears.  In any event, this is another facile story that doesn't do much but mildly entertain and take up pages.  Three stars, I suppose.

Van Allen Belts, by Theodore L. Thomas

I'm not sure why Thomas has this column; it's never worth reading.  This one, like all his others, starts like a non-fiction article and ends with a science fictional tail-sting.  Thomas recommends that the electrical current created by the charged particles circling the Earth could power satellites.  This is nonsense — the sun's photons provide far more energy than the weak fields in orbit could ever provide.

One star and stop wasting my time.

The Old Man Lay Down, by Sonya Dorman

A poem by an author I generally look forward to.  I couldn't make heads or tails of it.  Explain it to me?  Two stars.

The Crazy Mathematician, by R. Underwood

Mad scientist finds a way to travel the universes by way of a shrinking machine.  He takes a handsome journalist along on his journeys, who spends the trip romancing the various versions of femininity he finds at the various stops. 

Complete fantasy and not worth your energy.  Two stars.

Fanzine Fanfaronade, by Terry Carr

The third in F&SF's series on fandom, it is neither as good as last month's (on conventions), nor as mediocre as the one from the month before (on fandom in general).

Three stars.

The Compleat Consumators, by Alan E. Nourse

The premise to this piece is that two lovers, ideally matched, will not just become one metaphorically, but will fuse into a single physical identity.  It's a lovely idea, but here it's played for horror, and abandoned right when it could have become interesting. 

Two stars.

Into the Shop, by Ron Goulart

Intelligent cop car mistakes everyone for a suspect, including its human partner, with fatal results.  Sub-par stuff, and doubly disappointing given Goulart's fine reputation.

Two stars.

Oreste, by Henry Shultz

And here we hit the bottom with a reprint from 1952(!) about an eight year old child and the odd uncle with whom he has a telepathic connection.  It seems young Titus is stealing the thoughts of Uncle Oreste, writing books and composing music on borrowed talent.

Or something.  There's a twist ending, but after 20+ pages of a story that could easily have fit into five, I was too bored to care.

One star.

Summing Up

Oh dear.  Didn't I pledge just last month to be a lot nicer in my reviews?  I guess there's something about reading eighty pages of muck that puts me in a bad mood.  Like Uncle Oreste, someone has stolen my beautiful F&SF (my favorite magazine until Editor Davidson showed up in '62), and replaced it with nonsense.

I do bring one piece of good news, though.  I've got prints of my performance at San Diego Comic Fest.  If you've got a sound-capable 8mm, let me know, and I'll Parcel Post it to you:

[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

[March 15th, 1964] Maaaarco! (Doctor Who: Marco Polo, Parts 1 to 4)

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By Jessica Holmes

Welcome back, everyone. Get comfy, because this is our first proper historical episode. This means that I’m about to go off on about a dozen different tangents before we’re done.

(I'd like to note that I was having some difficulty with my television set whilst watching this episode, so if I seem to have missed anything, that's why, and I apologise in advance.)

I must admit that I didn't know much about the historical Marco Polo going in, so I've gone along with my notes to the library and examined the facts in order to compare them to the episode, and see if there are any slip-ups. Other than obviously no time travellers in a phone box turning up halfway in.

THE ROOF OF THE WORLD

In which the companions find themselves in the Himalayas, but soon discover they are not alone. Are they about to fall victim to the terrible Yeti? No, it's the Mongols! And who should be with them but Marco Polo himself.

With the TARDIS in need of repairs, Marco invites the companions to travel with him to Shang-Tu, where he plans to meet with the great Kublai Khan himself. Also accompanying him are Ping-Cho, a young lady of around Susan's age who is on her way to be married (!), and Tegana, a Mongol warlord.

Ping-Cho, as far as I can tell, is not a real historical figure; however Marco Polo did once escort a wedding party from China to Persia, so this could perhaps have been the inspiration for her character. Tegana isn’t real, either, though Marco Polo probably would have travelled with Mongols of high status like Tegana many times, being something of a favourite of the court.

We get our first dose of educational entertainment when not long into the episode, Barbara, being the history teacher, explains to Susan who Marco Polo is.

For anybody unaware, Marco Polo was one of the earliest European travellers to document his travels across Asia. In his lifetime, and for a good long time afterwards, many doubted the veracity of his claims, but we now know that much of what he wrote was indeed accurate. He spent many years at the court of the leader of the Mongols, Kublai Khan, grandson of the legendary Genghis Khan. Did you know that Genghis Khan simply means 'great leader'? That's how highly the Mongols thought of him, that even today we don't refer to him by his true name (which, for those curious, was Temujin).

Basically, Kublai Khan had a hell of a legacy to live up to. Genghis Khan may have carved out the empire, but going by the records, Kublai made it truly great. Fabulously rich, high education rates, freedom of religion. If you ignore the truly biblical death rate, the Mongol Empire was rather amazing. Still, a lot of people died to make it happen.


And their yurts look very cosy, too.

Not a minute later, Ian steps in to fulfil his role as a science teacher, when he explains to Marco Polo why the water is boiling at a lower temperature than it should: because they are at high altitude and the air pressure is low. Indeed, the low air pressure is also causing the Doctor to suffer from altitude sickness. He doesn’t go into the mechanics of why, but that’s perhaps beyond the scope of the show.

While certainly educational, and fulfilling the stated goal of Doctor Who as a programme, these little bits of educational exposition do feel a bit jarring and clunky, as if the show suddenly remembers it’s supposed to be edifying.

Travelling with Marco soon proves to be a bad idea when he informs the time travellers of his true intentions. He's going to present their TARDIS as a gift to the Khan in hopes that the Khan will see fit to release him from his service.

Oh, and to make matters worse, Tegana is planning to poison everyone and take the TARDIS for himself.

At this point it would be remiss of me not to bring up the casting of this serial. I have to say…I'm disappointed.

I am disappointed that more people of Chinese or Mongolian heritage were not cast in speaking roles. I know that casting actors of one ethnicity and putting them in heavy makeup to look like another ethnicity is pretty much par for the course in the current film and television industries. It’s not even unusual for the BBC. Just tune in during Saturday evening primetime and you’ll see what I mean.

I had hoped that Doctor Who might make more of an effort to cast authentically, but alas, most of the Asian characters in this serial are portrayed by actors of no Asian heritage. After all, isn’t speculative fiction supposed to go against the status quo, not uphold it? It’s a real missed opportunity.

Three and a half out of five.

THE SINGING SANDS

In this honestly pretty dull episode, the caravan winds its way across the Gobi desert, the Doctor spends the entire time sulking, the girls get lost in a sandstorm while tailing Tegana, who for some reason changes his mind about his plan. Rather than poisoning the water gourds, like he said he was going to do, he just slashes them open and hopes everyone will die of thirst.

Why?

I don't really know.

Two and a half out of five.

FIVE HUNDRED EYES

The caravan makes it to Tun-Huang and the plot starts getting interesting again.


Ping-Cho tells us a story.

We get a little bit of linguistic history, which is a bit of history I am fond of because I'm that sort of a person. Never end up alone with me at a party. When I start talking, I don't stop. You've probably read enough of my articles by now to have gathered that.

Anyway, it's in the telling of the tale of the hashshashin, though quite heavily mythologised. The hashshashin were an Islamic sect present from the eleventh to thirteenth centuries in what is today Iran, roughly speaking. They were known for fighting their enemies in a most unconventional way: with espionage, assassinations and psychological warfare. Oh, and for smoking a drug called hashish, which is a resin derived from the cannabis plant. Everyone who can spot the potential etymological link please raise your hands.

So, Ping-Cho regales the group with the tale of a wicked lord named Aladdin who lived in the mountains and gave his men a powerful drug which made them feel rather marvellous, and all they had to do for him in return was go out and kill people for him.

This is not exactly how it went but it's a very interesting group with an intricate history. Also I can't find out who this Aladdin is, or who he's meant to be.

Following the not-entirely-accurate history lesson (you should probably pick up a book on the Assassins, more formally known as the Nizari Ismailis; they were an fascinating bunch), Barbara tails him to the eponymous cave of five hundred eyes, where she gets caught, and also the budget suddenly runs out, for this ‘cave’ looks an awful lot like it’s made of plywood.


Tegana, on the hunt for the budget.

The girls are quick to notice Barbara's absence however, and rush to tell the Doctor, who, having had a marked change for the better in terms of personality following his brief absence, immediately sets out with them to find her. Could it be that the Doctor is learning to care about…other PEOPLE?

I think I might faint.

Three and a half out of five. 

THE WALL OF LIES

Marco learns what the others have been up to, and rushes to the cave. He is the one to save Barbara's life, but he's cross at her for putting herself in that position, and at the others for sneaking off without telling him. What's more, he doesn't believe that the girls were following Tegana at all, for Tegana denies having ever been to the cave before.

Tegana is has long been poisoning Marco's mind against our companions, and it seems to be taking root when he orders that the girls be separated. I really enjoyed the relationship between the girls. It feels very natural, and it's lovely to see Susan having a friend her own age. These girls are from different times and cultures entirely, but they get along like two peas in a pod.

The caravan pushes ever onward, and in the city of Sin-Ju (A city which I can’t seem to find out anything about. The name doesn’t come up anywhere that I can find.), Ping-Cho tries to prove to Marco that Tegana lied about having been to the cave before the group rescued Barbara, when he asked earlier about a passageway. It's important to note that this passageway is in fact a secret passageway, which is of course about ten times cooler than any other passageway.

Marco scoffs at her evidence and gets rather cross with her, trusting Tegana over her, even though Tegana might as well walk around with I AM UP TO NO GOOD tattooed on his forehead.
Speaking of Tegana, he's now plotting, yet again, to kill all the travellers. This guy is so rubbish at plotting it's unbelievable. I could have killed all these people five times over by the time we got to this point.

Don't believe me? Let’s go through them right now.

  1. Back in the desert, I could have poisoned the water gourds. You know. Like Tegana said he was going to do and then didn’t.
  2. I could have slashed the gourds open and taken the last entirely for myself, and ridden off to the oasis, there to relax and sip water while the others die. After all, this plan almost worked, only they managed to drink a bit of condensation from the TARDIS. That wouldn’t have been enough if they didn’t have that last water gourd.
  3. Assuming I didn't poison the water, I could have poisoned any of the meals. Then again, everyone does eat the same thing. Also then again, I could just go without one meal. Better hungry than dead, right?
  4. Tegana has a sword. A very sharp sword. Wait until everyone is asleep, tiptoe about, kill them one by one. Nobody gets a chance to fight back. Simple.
  5. The capture of Barbara was the ideal opportunity to bait the others into an ambush.

In conclusion, Tegana is absolutely rubbish at murder plots, and nobody should have me as a travelling companion. Especially not if you’re prone to snoring.

What he is good at, however, is getting Marco to turn against the Doctor and his companions, who become prisoners rather than guests.

Not that that’s going to stop Ian cutting his way out of captivity. With plates!

I was mildly disappointed when it turned out he meant literally cutting his way out of the tent with shards of ceramic, as opposed to taking on the guards armed with a set of fine china. But shock, horror, as Ian goes to subdue the guard, it turns out that someone's beaten him to it!

I'm not saying it was Tegana…
But it was definitely Tegana.
And if he can't manage to kill them next time, I'll just be embarrassed on his behalf.

CONCLUSION

So, that was the first half (ish) of Marco Polo! We’ve travelled a long, long way over these last few episodes.

One thing I do have to commend about this serial is its ambition. It's clear this is where most of the cost-cutting on previous episodes went, with far more detailed sets and some wonderful costumes. I also enjoyed our foray into real history, with real people, and I am really looking forward to meeting Kublai Khan. The Mongol Empire was a real marvel, and I am excited to see more of it. 

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Book, Magazine

[March 13, 1964] NOTHING MUCH TO SAY (the April 1964 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Within Narrow Constraints

The April 1964 issue of Amazing features a story titled Prisoner in Orbit and a cover (by Alex Schomburg) depicting a guy in a transparent bubble, scarcely taller than he, looking out into space with a disgruntled expression.  One might suspect that this depiction is overly literal, but no: it’s just what the author called for.  Or, more likely, the story was written around the cover, an old magazine practice that has undoubtedly survived to the present. 

Prisoner in Orbit, by Henry Slesar

The story is by Henry Slesar, a prolific contributor to Amazing in the late ‘50s and an occasional one since then, though that may be changing: he had a story in the last issue and has two in this one.  Here, humans are fighting against the Maks, the android army of the Indasians, and the protagonist and his soldier buddies have been captured and sent to a prison asteroid, run entirely by the Maks.  The story slips into the familiar groove of prisoner of war stories, with the captives scheming to escape and the Maks trying to keep them in line. 

This old plot is made science-fictional by the rigid mechanical thinking of the Maks, who, after being informed that they really don’t need to kill prisoners who misbehave, since a little solitary confinement will do just as well, devise a confinement so solitary it drives the miscreants crazy.  The cover thus justified, the story moves on to its real business: the war is over, won by the humans so conclusively that there’s no chain of command left to tell the authority-minded Maks to stand down and let the humans go.  How to persuade them? 

Clever solution, coming right up.  Slesar has served a rigorous and prolific apprenticeship in Ellery Queen’s, Alfred Hitchcock’s, and other crime fiction magazines as well as in sf, and it shows.  This is a highly professional if rather bloodless performance, with background deftly sketched in, the pace jazzed up with flashbacks and flash-forwards, in as smooth a style as you’ll find anywhere.  Three stars for slick execution, even if there’s no reason to remember the story once you’re done.

The Chair, by O.H. Leslie

Slesar’s other story, The Chair, appears under his pseudonym O.H. Leslie, familiar from the Ziff-Davis magazines but even more so to the readers of Alfred Hitchcock’s. It is a bit livelier than Prisoner in Orbit but just as formulaic, splitting the difference between early Galaxy satire and the cautionary mode of, say, Richard Matheson or Charles Beaumont when they are not writing outright fantasy. 

The eponymous Chair is an expensive commercial product that promises the ultimate in comfort and satisfaction of every need, at least if you get the extras like the Food-o-Mat and the Chem-o-Mat Plumbing Unit.  You can see where that is going, and go it does, with the journalist protagonist chronicling the decline of his friend who gets a Chair, until the manufacturer figures out the perfect way to silence him.  This one too is slickly executed, and enhanced by Slesar’s obvious familiarity with advertising style.  Also there’s more of a point to it and you might remember it a little longer than Prisoner in Orbit.  Three stars, a bit more lustrous than those for Prisoner.

The Other Inhabitant, by Edward W. Ludwig

Of course most of us presumably read sf for something other than slick execution.  But we might miss it when it’s not there, as illustrated by this story, in which Astro-Lieutenant Sam Harding, exploring “Alpha III” (a planet of Alpha Centauri, apparently), discovers that he’s not alone; something is following him.  As the story proceeds we learn that Lt. Harding’s situation is not quite what he thinks it is.  This kind of psychological near-horror stands or falls on execution, and this one falls.  In the hands of a more skilled writer it might have been quite effective.  Two stars.

A Question of Theology, by George Whitley

A. Bertram Chandler, using his frequent pseudonym George Whitley for no apparent reason, contributes A Question of Theology, in which humans are about to land on a planet of Alpha Centauri (yes, that one again), which some time ago was visited by an unmanned vessel carrying experimental animals, and which now seems to have a well-developed civilization with cities.  The humans’ reception is predictable to the reader if not to the characters.  It’s perfectly readable—Chandler is no Slesar but he will serve for most purposes—but it reads as if the author wasn’t really very interested in it, and the theme is unfortunately reminiscent of some of his earlier, much better stories: the incisive The Cage, from Fantasy and Science Fiction seven or so years ago, and Giant Killer, the 1945 Astounding novella that made his reputation.  Two stars.

Sunburst (Part 2 of 3), by Phyllis Gotlieb and The Saga of “Skylark” Smith, by Sam Moskowitz

The rest of the issue is taken up by the second installment of Phyllis Gotlieb’s serial Sunburst, to be reviewed next month, and another of Sam Moskowitz’s SF Profiles: The Saga of “Skylark” Smith.  Edward E. Smith, Ph.D., is of course author of The Skylark of Space and numerous other grandiose space operas of bygone days done in a bygone style, and has failed to adapt to a more sophisticated genre and its audience, as Moskowitz essentially acknowledges.  While some of the biographical detail is interesting, the point is otherwise elusive.  Two stars.

Spectroscope

Last month, the editor proudly announced the advent of Lester del Rey as new proprietor of The Spectroscope, the book review column.  This month, with no comment at all, del Rey is gone and the book reviewer is Robert Silverberg, who is knowledgeable and adept.  Let’s hope he lasts more than a month.

Post-Mortem

So, the upshot: nothing terrible, which compared to recent performance is an improvement, but nothing especially interesting either, except possibly the serial installment.  To be continued.

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TV

[March 11, 1964] Brought into Focus (The Outer Limits, Season 1, Episodes 21-24)

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by Natalie Devitt

Last month’s episodes of The Outer Limits really raised the bar for the series. The newest batch of stories are mostly good, but do not quite meet last month‘s contributions to the series. This month, many characters make some pretty important realizations. Episodes include a story about young man who finds out the real identity of his father after being accused of a heinous crime, a group of scientists that learn some pretty scary things about a plant that they discover in space, amusement park attendees who find out first hand that a spaceship simulator ride is really equipped to handle space travel, and a team of scientists that discover the contents of a moonstone.

The Children of Spider County, by Anthony Lawrence

In The Children of Spider County, “four of the most magnificent and promising young minds in the country suddenly disappear off the face of the Earth.” All of these young men have a lot in common. Not only are they all smart, but they are “physically superior.“ They were born during the same month of the same year in a little place called Spider County. The men also share the same middle name, Aros, a planet in another galaxy. Each one was born prematurely and does not know his father.

The fifth and final member of this group, Ethan, is the only one not missing and he is behind bars, accused of murder. Ethan is played by Lee Kinsolving, who just starred in Twilight Zone’s Black Leather Jackets. Ethan has been having strange dreams of a creature from outer space following him. Turns out, he is being followed by an extraterrestrial, who is also his long lost father.

His father, Aabel, is played by Kent Smith, who appeared in Val Lewton's Cat People. Ethan’s father helps his son escape the police. Aabel warns Ethan that, “Fear, suspicion and ignorance will sentence you to die, not facts.” He offers to take him “home” to Aros, where he can be with others that are like him in a place “where superstition and fear can never reach you.” Meanwhile, an investigator is trying to get to the bottom of the “abductions by representatives of an alien planet.”

In this episode, Aable has an interesting appearance. For starters, he always wears a suit. Also, he switches between looking like a human and an alien (thus fulfilling in two senses The Outer Limits' trademark of featuring a "man in a suit"). A trait of Ethan’s father that I did not particularly enjoy was his penchant for very long monologues. Luckily, most of the speeches were followed by action, picking up the pace. One thing this entry does have going for it is the way it is photographed; the director of photography, Kenneth Peach, uses anything from Dutch angles to birds-eye views to really create the mood for the episode. The Children of Spider County was intriguing, but it was just too uneven to really be satisfying, which is why it earns two and a half stars.

Specimen: Unknown, by Stephen Lord

Men aboard a space station in Specimen: Unknown discover small mushrooms-shaped objects. The episode stars western actor Stephen McNally and Come Back, Little Sheba ‘s Richard Jaeckel. Also, Gail Kobe, who recently appeared in The Twilight Zone’s The Self-Improvement of Salvadore Ross is another performer in Specimen: Unknown. Thinking that the objects are “dormant spores,” the crew members take them to their lab and put them underneath a heat lamp, where the objects quickly grow into large plants with flowers. In the lab, the flowers begin to spray “some kind of vapor,” killing a member of the crew.

Worried about bringing the deceased member home to Earth and possibly spreading the illness to others, the crew disposes of his body in space. Following the funeral, a member of the crew notices another “mushroom thing” attached to the space station. He decides to study it, completely unaware that it is the same type of plant that is responsible for his colleague’s tragic death. Not surprisingly, the plant grows much quicker than anyone could have ever anticipated and it starts “shooting off spores.”

They isolate the “alien plant life” and store it in metal storage containers, where they believe that plant will no longer pose a threat any humans. That is, until said containers are accidentally tipped over and the alien plants are once again able to start releasing more spores in the air, which leads to a number of the men falling ill with the “alien virus.” With a crew this oblivious, will they be able outwit these plants from outer space and stop the illness that they spread?

Specimen: Unknown seems to have been heavily influenced by The Day of the Triffids. That said, one of the things the episode has going for is its space creatures, which offer a nice break from the usual men in monsters suits. I know objectively, this far from the best entry in the series. I mean, the plants seem to be much more intelligent than just any of the people in the episode. But if you like schlock as much as I do, then Specimen: Unknown is kind of fun. That is why I am giving the episode three stars.

Second Chance, by Lin Dane and Lou Morheim

Employees and attendees at an amusement park realize that a spaceship simulator attraction is really capable of space travel in Second Chance. Actor Don Gordon (Self-Improvement of Salvadore Ross) makes another appearance in The Outer Limits as the simulator‘s operator, Dave. Simon Oakland, who everyone has seen in anything from The Twilight Zone to Psycho is completely unrecognizable as the episode’s extraterrestrial, Empyria. He has been watching over the attraction, studying human behavior and preparing it for just the right time to make his journey back into space.

For the trip, Empyria wants company for so he can have assistance with setting up a colony is space. He walks around the park, passing out free tickets for the ride, pretending to be a employee in character, intentionally picking people “who would have the least regret, and would have the most to gain in a new chance in a new undistorted world,” telling people things like, the “universe may be just the place to go and start over.“ But shortly after taking over the attraction, Empyria realizes he does not know humans as well as he thinks he does.

I am not totally sure I am convinced of Empyria’s reasoning for abducting the people, but I really liked this episode. Empyria had a lot of great one-liners. The sequences involving him hiding in the simulator and sneaking around the park were pretty creepy, but it is really the acting that made the story work. Also, everything from the set design and the costumes were great, too. Second Chance was easily the most fun I had watching The Outer Limits this past month, so I give it three and a half stars.

Moonstone, by William Bast

Ruth Roman of Strangers on a Train stars as part of a team of scientists exploring the moon’s surface, who discover a “mysterious moonstone.” The sphere-shaped stone is examined. During the examination, a laser that is said to be so strong that “it can drill holes in diamonds“ has no effect on the moonstone. They assume that it must be made of metal and be used for “collecting data for transmission to Earth” by the Russians.

As it turns out, the moonstone does not belong to the Russians; on the side of the stone are eyeballs that appear and watch everything. Inside the moonstone are aliens that became stranded while trying to flee their tyrannical government that wants to use them for their knowledge. There is not much time before the aliens will be forced to return home. Until then, everyone has to decide what they are willing to sacrifice to make sure that esoteric knowledge does not end up in the wrong hands.

Moonstone has a few of storylines going. The storyline with the aliens is pretty solid. There is also a romantic subplot and some workplace drama that I did not find quite as compelling. In addition to the storylines, the set design and the paintings used for exterior shots of the moon’s surface were quite stunning. The moonstone with eyeballs floating around was really pretty creative. Overall, I would say that Moonstone deserves three stars.

It was another mostly strong month on The Outer Limits, filled with some pretty creative discoveries. With rumors having been confirmed of Twilight Zone's cancellation, The Outer Limits is probably guaranteed another season.

[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

[March 9, 1964] Deviant from the Norm (April 1964 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

It's Spreading

25 years ago, a group of fen met in New York for the first World's Science Fiction Convention.  Now, conclaves are springing up all over the nation (and internationally, too).  Just this weekend, I attended a small event ambitiously titled San Diego Comic Fest.  It was a kind of "Comics-in," where fans of the funny pages could discuss their peculiar interests: Is Superman better than Batman?  Are the X-Men and the Doom Patrol related?  Is Steve Ditko one of the best comics artists ever?

I was there as an invited guest to speak on the current state of comics and science fiction.  I understand that the proceeding was filmed and may even be broadcast on local television.  When that happens, I shall be sure to give you a heads up.

Slinging my new color camera, I took photos of some of the new friends I made.  There was also excellent space-themed decor, which I had to capture for posterity.  Many thanks to my friends with the private dark room who developed these prints so quickly for publication:


Posters lining the bar at the Lunar Lounge


Mercury meets Sputnik


The Young Traveler (initials L.E.M.) poses with a mock-up of the Apollo LEM


Alvin of the Chipmunks (his name really is Alvin!)


The artist known as Napoleon Doom


The Traveler with a familiar face


A beautiful, newly commissioned drawing of Dr. Martha Dane, the Journey's unofficial mascot

While the con possessed many superlative qualities, I think my fondest memories involved reading the latest issue of Galaxy, sitting in the lobby of the event hotel, listening to one of the fans play an endless medley of classic and new tunes on the piano.  With that, I suppose it's appropriate I tell you about what I read…

The Issue at Hand


Cover by Sol Dember illustrating Final Contact

The Boy Who Bought Old Earth, by Cordwainer Smith

For years, Cordwainer Smith has teased us with views of his future tales of the Instrumentality, the rigid, computer-facilitated government of Old Earth.  We've learned that there are the rich humans, whose every whim is catered to.  Beneath them, literally, are the Underpeople — animals shaped into human guise (a la Dr. Moreau) who live in subterranean cities.  A giant tower, miles high, launches spaceships to the heavens, spreading the Instrumentality to the hundreds of settled stars of the galaxy.  All but one, the setting of Smith's newest book.

Old North Australia stands alone, an island in an Instrumentality-dominated sea of space.  On that grey, dusty world, its inhabitants still pledge fealty to the Queen of the British Commonwealth (she and that confederation dead some 15,000 years).  What enables this world, dubbed "Norstrilia," to stand alone?  Like Frank Herbert's Arrakis, Norstrilia is the sole producer of the longevity drug, stroon.  This has made Norstrilia fantastically wealthy, able to produce the most lethal of defenses (including Mother Hitton's Littul Kittons).

Our viewpoint in Boy is Rod McBan, a protagonist with a problem.  The scion of one of Norstrilia's oldest and richest families, he has been barred from achieving adulthood for his inability to communicate telepathically with his peers.  Four times the boy has lived to the age of sixteen; three times, he has had his memories erased in the hopes that Rod might develop the appropriate mental gifts to participate meaningfully in society.  Failure to do so a fourth time means judgment by tribunal and possible sentence to death.

How Rod escapes this fate and turns around his fortune so entirely (figuratively and literally) such that he becomes possessor of the Manhome, Old Earth itself, is an interesting tale I shan't spoil.  I can, however, share my thoughts on the story's execution.

Smith is one of the more unusual authors out there.  Having been raised in pre-Communist China and then employed by intelligence agencies, Smith has much more experience with non-Western cultures.  This shows up in his writing, with the Instrumentality and its denizens a fair bit further from the norm of SF societal depictions. 

The author is hampered, however, by choosing Norstrilia as his setting.  The planet is prosaic, deliberately so by choice of the inhabitants.  Missing is that lucid dream-like quality Smith has imparted his other Instrumentality stories.

Moreover, the novel is very short, and it ends abruptly just as it's getting interesting.  I suspect the piece has been cut for space.  The result is just two thirds of a story arc.

For these reasons, I give Boy 3.5 stars and hope that a fuller rendition comes out in proper book form.  Perhaps, like Heinlein's Starship Troopers, this will turn a flawed gem into a masterpiece.

Earth Eighteen, by Ernst Mason

After finishing the serious, humorless piece that was Boy, it was quite a jolt to be thrown into this comedy article, a tourguide for aliens visiting a ruined and mostly depopulated Earth.  Thus, it took me a while to slow down and get into the thing, but once I did, I found moments of genuine cleverness.  The Gaughan pictures are cute, too. 

Three stars.

For Your Information, by Willy Ley

The non-fiction article this month deals with statistical bell curves: the phenomenon whereby any set of things (height of people, size of noses, width of beans) falls within boundaries with the most common incidence being right in the middle.  It's not a bad piece, but it's short and ends abruptly. 

Three stars.

The End of the Race, by Albert Bermel

If you've read the recent novel (soon to be movie) Fail-safe, then you know the ending to this story, a farcical piece about negotiated disarmament between the superpowers.  It was better when it wasn't played for laughs, and not very good laughs at that.

Two stars.

Final Encounter, by Harry Harrison

Now here is the real gem of the book, and a real departure from the norm.  Ship's captain Hautamaki, of the race of Men, takes aboard a married pair of more conventionally human anthropologists, Gulyas and Tjond.  Their mission: to make first contact with aliens.  The extraterrestrials have left tantalizing clues of their existence, beacons on various worlds pointing to one star in the galaxy.  Friction quickly erupts amongst the crew.  Tjond, the sole woman, finds Hautamaki's insistence on nudity disturbing.  And she cannot comprehend at all the society of Men, which includes no women, involves marriage, love, and production of children by homosexual union alone. 

Worse yet, Hautamaki insists on jettisoning all weaponry and adopting a completely peaceful posture when approaching the aliens.  His reasoning is that the threat of violence could jeopardize the contact, and if the aliens prove hostile even in the face of no provocation, well, the next mission will be so alerted.

I absolutely loved this story.  It possessed that well-executed strangeness that I'd sort of expected from the Smith.  I appreciated that it was the Man who was the gentle pacifist.  And, as in Evelyn Smith's They Also Serve, a homosexual man is key to a peaceful first contact.  But unlike Smith's story, this is the first instance in SF (aside from Sturgeon's The World Well Lost from 1953) where the homosexuality is explicit — and completely unapologetic.

How times have changed.  Five stars.

At the Feelies, by Jack Sharkey

At the con, I had a discussion with a fellow who mused on the future of movies.  After silent films came talkies.  Then color, 3-D, "Sens-o-rama," and so on.  It was timely, then, that I read this piece right after.  It's a (fictional) review of Gone with the Wind redone such that the audience can feel and smell from the point of view of the actors — a technology with mixed blessings, as you can imagine.

It's cute.  Three stars.

Soft and Soupy Whispers, by Sydney Van Scyoc

Van Scyoc offers up a typically macabre piece about a mentally disturbed man whose insanity is kept under control through the installation of a mental companion.  In essence, the fellow is made sane through schizophrenia.  It's subtle and interesting, but a bit obtuse and more artful than plausible.

Three stars.

The Blasphemers, by Philip José Farmer

Last up is another piece from left field, this one dealing with a race of centaurs that possesses four sexes, all of which are necessary to produce (and capable of bearing) children.  The aliens are an advanced, starfaring race.  Highly religious, they venerate the spirits of their ancestors, holding sacred the statues of their elders.  One iconoclast leads his mated quartet to a shrine and proceeds to make love amongst the monuments.

He is caught and brought before a judge, but instead of being sentenced to immolation, he is congratulated for his heresy and informed that the state religion is bunk, actually a tool to justify the conquest of planets: one of the faith's tenets is that an early ancestor left statues of himself on planets to be colonized by the race; such statues were actually carved recently by advance scouts.

Our protagonist is then made a ship's captain and dispatched to colonize as many worlds as he and his companions can, until common sense prevails over faith and the old order is toppled.

Particularly interesting about this piece is the assertion that religious faith is instilled by nature, not nurture.  Like sexual preference, one can't help one's feelings on the subject, the story says.

Ambitious and laudable as Farmer's goals are in this piece, his execution is workmanlike.  Ted Sturgeon once called Farmer an author who always almost gets it right, and that record continues with The Blasphemers.  I suppose Harrison can't write all the iconoclastic tales.

Three stars.

Summing Up

With just one very short clunker in the mix, and despite the (relative) disappointment of the Smith novel, the April 1964 Galaxy is a welcome departure from the standard.  I'm impressed.  What wonders await us in two months?

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




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Book

[March 5, 1964] Brushwinged, I Soar (Hannah Green's I Never Promised You a Rose Garden)

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by Erica Frank

Deborah Blau lives in two worlds. One is the world of post-World War II America, where she faces anti-Semitism at school, and her family is fraught with guilt from relying on her grandfather's wealth instead of her father's limited wages. The other is the Kingdom of Yr: a world with vast open plains and the endless chasm of The Pit. Yr's residents include Anterrabae, the Falling God; Lactamaeon, second in command; and Idat the Dissembler, who is neither male nor female. "You are not of them," the Yri gods tell her, and they teach her to soar the skies in her eagle-self, and she sings with them in the secret language of the hidden realm. The Censor stands guard to prevent the words from mingling when she shifts between the Rising Calendar of Yr and the Heavy Calendar of Earth.

But I Never Promised You a Rose Garden is not a science fiction novel, and Deborah is neither a time-traveler nor a sorceress. She is a sixteen-year-old girl, and Yr is the delusional world of her mental illness.

Cover of I Never Promised You a Rose Garden

Yr is a compelling world; Yri is an intriguing language. We only see them in glimpses as Deborah struggles to explain her truths to Doctor Fried, whom she names Furii, Fire-Touch, in her secret language. Yr is Deborah's protection and way of explaining to herself the traumas of her life: the tumor removed when she was five, the racist girls at her summer camp, the endless tensions between her parents and grandfather. She is surrounded by lies, and Yr is the place where nobody lies to her.

Nobody in Yr tells her, "This will not hurt at all, and when you wake up, you will be all better." Nobody tells her, "None of these girls called you a stinking Jew." Nobody says, "You are smart and special and that means you will be successful in life." In Yr, the customary greeting is "suffer, victim," and the calendar rises in good times and falls in bad times, and Deborah flies as a bird or gallops as a horse, unfettered and free. The incantation that calls forth her freedom is beautiful:

“e, quio quio quaru ar Yr aedat
temoluqu' braown elepr kyryr…”
(Brushwinged, I soar above the canyons of your sleep singing…)

Of course she wants to stay there. Yr has been her solace and sanctuary since she was six years old; it will be very, very hard for her to acknowledge it might not be a real place. If she loses it, she believes life will be nothing but falsehoods and distortions and incomprehensible tasks assigned by others.

But Yr is turning dark. The Collect, the swarm of voices who shout instructions and insults at her, are growing louder, and she spends less time celebrating its beauty and more in regions of fear and pain. The gods who were delightful companions at first, distracting her from real-world tensions and abuses, now bring her messages of bitterness and horror. Even so, Deborah retreats into Yr more and more, losing entire days from memory and not knowing what she did or said in that time.

Deborah is committed to a mental institution, and it begins as a great relief to her. For the first time in years, nobody is pretending she is normal, that there is nothing wrong with her. Of course, what Deborah thinks is wrong with her, and what the doctors think is wrong with her, don't match–but fixing that can come later. First, she has to trust that they can recognize that she has real problems.

Deborah's doctor is much in demand; she wouldn't take the case if she didn't believe Deborah could get better. Dr. Fried is acclaimed, even famous, and she needs that cachet of status when convincing the parents to leave her there, especially after Deborah is committed to the "Disturbed" ward, with bars on the windows and ratty-haired women wearing pajamas all day. Her parents are dismayed at the idea of their "sensitive" little girl being in such a place, and they worry about the community finding out about her illness. The doctor needs to persuade them, and keep persuading them, that Deborah needs this.

And she does. She has to get worse before she can get better. She has to let go of the constraints of blending in, of being polite, of pretending that social interactions mean the same things to her that they do to others.

Deborah's journey is a hard battle, and a big part of it is how she relates to the other inmates. At first, they are all mysteries to her, just another set of talking obstacles she navigates around while she tries to sort out truth from fantasy. Slowly, she comes to realize that each of them has her own traumas, her own methods of coping, and to recognize the potential of future health in some of them–a terrifying thought for people who find hope a burden as much as a source of strength.

She learns the secret codes they use to sneak forbidden items past the nurses. She makes a friend, when she was never able to do so at school. She seeks out those who can teach her Latin and Greek, in fragments and amidst the fights that explode any time something changes in the ward. (Just hearing about someone who used to be here, but is now working in the real world, is enough strain to disrupt the place for days.) She learns that the staff thinks of her as cold and vicious, and that her intellect is weapon as much as tool. And she learns compassion, the baffling wonder of having the power to help someone else, when she had been convinced that her very essence was nothing but poison.

While the story is set in the late 40s and early 50s, it's timeless. The town and the institute are never named, nor do they need to be. While today's mental institutions won't have a regular influx of conscientious objectors serving as orderlies to avoid prison, there are always some staff who obviously don't want to be there. The patients recognize the ones who fear and hate them, and treat them differently. Some of the security practices seem almost barbaric, but Deborah shrugs them off; her trials are internal, and physical comforts are irrelevant to her.

Rose Garden is intense and fascinating. It gives a glimpse into both mental illness and how the stigma surrounding it can make it worse: Deborah's troubles are harder for having to pretend she is "normal." The world of Yr would make a delightful setting for a novel in its own right, and it is hard, as a science fiction fan, to favor the termination of such a place–but that is what Deborah needs, so that is what the reader comes to want as well.

5 stars; it doesn't get better than this.

[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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