Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 26th 1965] Mind Control, Aldiss and Time Travel (New Worlds and Science Fantasy, June 1965)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After the hoo-ha of celebrating New Worlds’s 150th issue last month, we’re back to some sort of normality. But if you thought things were getting boring – think again! We are all counting down to the much-expected Worldcon in the Summer, only a couple of months away from the time I’m writing. This includes the magazines themselves.

But first, let’s get to the issue that arrived first in the post this month: the June issue of Science Fantasy.

We have another painting on the cover by the prolific Keith Roberts. I almost like this one, although your guess as to what it shows is as good as anyone else’s.

Interestingly, a glance at the front and back covers shows us (once again) names mentioned that are not in this issue. This includes the aforementioned Keith Roberts, with stories clearly held over for some reason. And whither, Philip Wordley?

On a more positive note, I do like Kyril’s Editorials, perhaps more than Mike Moorcock’s in New Worlds. Mike’s prose always comes across as a lecture, whilst Kyril’s is more chatty. This may be relevant this month, as Kyril uses an Aldiss quote at a starting point,"The job of a critic consists of knowing when he is being bored, and why", and then takes to task the term ‘well-written’, a phrase I have been guilty of using often in these here articles. He makes the point that well-written can mean that the prose is florid – “it exhibits bursts of purple mandarin-fiction” or is ‘easy to read’ and therefore less boring.

And using that analogy I might be as bold as to say that Moorcock’s New Worlds editorials are erudite, whilst Kyril’s are less boring. His use of a James Bond book to explain this is inspired, although the topic is left with a promise to come back to it at a later date.

To the stories themselves.

The Impossible Smile (part 2 of 2), by Jael Cracken

The second part of this serial by Brian Aldiss under a different name is not the only time we will come across Brian this month. The Impossible Smile begins where we pretty much left off – in a future dystopian state telepath Conrad Wyvern has been captured and taken to the Moon where the artificial intelligence ‘Big Bert’ is waiting. The government through their lunar representative Colonel H hope to link Wyvern to Bert the Brain and so read the minds of the whole population. For Wyvern, the risk is that the process will kill him, as it it did previous test subjects.

So: a fast-paced tale with lots of action and running about. Much of this second part is about what happens when Wyvern & Big Bert are connected, and Wyvern’s subsequent escape from the hospital he is imprisoned in. (I know – he’s on the Moon! Where would he escape to?) There’s some typical inner mind psychedelia and out of body experiences (walls of eyeballs!) which seem rather de rigueur at the moment. All hail the telepathic New Order!

Aldiss continues to tell an entertaining yarn which is great fun, if ultimately rather superficial. Not his best, but still readable. 3 out of 5.

Great and Small, by G. L. Lack

Not a name I immediately know, although he/she was in the New Writings in SF 2 story collection that I couldn’t finish. This is his/her first time in Science Fantasy. Great and Small is a strange little story about a man and his ongoing conversation with a fly, that often seen but generally unnoticeable insect. The man wakes up in a hospital to find a fly buzzing around – but wait! All flies are extinct, thanks to yet another apocalyptic event. The man feeds the fly some jam and then it buzzes off to meet another fly, presumably to dominate the new global ecosystem. As I said, odd and although it is interesting, not really worth much attention. 2 out of 5.

Ploop, by Ron Pritchett

Names are important, aren’t they? I must admit that the childish part of my brain struggled to cope with a character named ‘Ploop’.

Ploop is an alien and this minor story is about its first meeting with another alien race. Unsurprisingly, the aliens are humans and although Ploop looks like a dog it is in fact something else much more dangerous.

Ron is a new author and whilst this is a valiant effort, it shows. I suspect we may not see much more of him. A placeholder using a tired idea. 2 out of 5.

Peace on Earth, by Paul Jents

Paul was last seen with the very odd Unto All Generations in the July/August 1964 issue. This is one of those stories with a twist in the tail, the story of the Earth’s first landing on the Moon with a horrible discovery at the end. Suffice it to say that the Moon is not made of green cheese but has something much worse. Another tired old cliché. 2 out of 5.

Deterrent, by Alastair Bevan

The return of someone who has become a recent regular, that of Keith Roberts by another name. Unsurprisingly, the topline describes Mr Bevan as “one of our best finds”. Deterrent is a story of seemingly primitive cave-people living a tribal existence until they discover what appears to be a nuclear weapon, the unsurprising post-apocalyptic twist in the tale. Not really anything to shout about, as something that has been done before and often. Must admit, though, that it is the first time I’ve ever read of Gods having a “xylophone presence.” 3 out of 5.

A Pleasure Shared, by Brian W. Aldiss

A name that needs no explanation from me – have I reminded you this month yet that he is to be a Guest of Honour at the London Worldcon in August? His prolific nature is noticeable at the moment. Last month he had published two very different stories in the two magazines – this month he has two in the same issue. A Pleasure Shared is however a reprint, first published in the USA in December 1962. The banner heading is very careful to point out that it is not science fiction in the accepted sense of the word, but “a triumph of empathetic fiction” – whatever that means.

What A Pleasure Shared actually is is a contemporary horror story, written from the perspective of a killer. Outwardly Mr Cream seems nice, polite and pleasant, but as we read his internalised monologue here it is clear that he is really not well. He has murdered, more than once. We know this from the beginning, because the woman he killed last night is still in his bedsit room. This would be bad enough but an accident to his widowed neighbour means that things take an unexpected turn at the end. This is really one in the style and tone of William Powell’s film Peeping Tom from a couple of years ago or Robert Bloch’s Psycho. It is shocking and memorable. Is it science fiction? No. But it is a very, very good story. I can see why Kyril has wanted to publish it. The best of the issue for me, and certainly the most memorable. Who would have thought that that nice Mr. Aldiss could come up with something so depraved? Shame its taken so long to appear here in Britain, though. 4 out of 5.

Prisoner, by Patricia Hocknell

Back to something a little more mundane, now. Another story from Patricia, last seen in the January/February 1965 issue with Only the Best. It begins as if the narrator is a convict with no knowledge of where they are or how they got there. All is revealed at the end with another twist in the tale. Again, OK, but nothing really new. 3 out of 5.

In Reason’s Ear, by Pippin Graham

Another new name to me. In this story, John Wetherall is a man recently returned to London after working in West Africa for the UKESCM (the United Kingdom Educational, Scientific and Cultural Mission) who seem to be a branch of the Foreign Office. John finds himself in trouble when after helping an old friend he discovers that the friend is supposedly dead, killed on an expedition to the Moon a few months ago.

I quite liked this one, although it is remarkably mannered. The US Intelligence Service at one point knock on a door to be told “Go away, I don’t answer my door at night”, which they do! This is in marked contrast to some other elements of the story which show a world out of control. Wetherall is shocked to find that London is prone to rampaging teenagers with little police support available to tackle them, and Graham does well to describe what he sees as he goes about the city. There are regular gatherings of these dancing, marijuana-smoking, knife-wielding, riotous young tearaways and they seem to put the rest of the general public in a state of fear – as if the general story of the Moon being dangerous wasn’t enough.

Whilst I see the story as a prime example of paranoiac adults being fearful for their future, I liked some of the ideas shown here. The story fizzles out with a now-traditional enigmatic ending, but overall it kept me reading. Whilst not superlative, and some definite flaws, it is one of this month’s better offerings for me. 3 out of 5.

Xenophilia, by Thom Keyes

A name we’ve come across before, in New Worlds in January 1965. His last story (Election Campaign) was underwhelming. Xenophilia is a story of alien love that begins like Casino Royale in Space before delving into the realms of alien sex. Short, it reads like a more explicit version of the old Bug-Eyed-Monster stories of yesteryear. I suspect that it is meant to shock. However, whilst it is still weird, I found the short story more palatable than his last. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Let’s start with a good point. Despite Brian Aldiss appearing twice, there is a greater range of stories this month, and I’m pleased to see that there are both more new writers and even a woman writer in this issue. This can only be good for the field, but only if the material published is good enough to stand merit – in other words, (with apologies to Kyril and Brian Aldiss, paraphrasing the Editorial) it is well-written. And that’s my problem with this issue.

It is clear that there’s been some last-minute changes made to what is included here, and although there’s nothing really bad in this issue, much of it isn’t that good either. The Pippin Graham story was odd yet memorable, whilst the standout by far was the second Aldiss story. Normally this would be a cause for celebration, but it is a reprint. This is not the first time in Science Fantasy or New Worlds in recent months where the best material is old material – a worrying trend. Overall, an oddly underwhelming issue. Not bad but not great.

Let’s go to my second magazine.

The Second Issue At Hand

After last month’s focus on stories, we’re back to normal with Issue 151. There’s book reviews, science articles, letters – and some fiction.

 

The cover shows a change though. The un-credited image shows that we have (finally!) moved away from the circle covers to something less circular and more abstract. It is certainly colourful and grabs your attention, but is it science fiction?

The Editorial also raises the ongoing discussion of what is Science Fiction, a debate that has been going on for months, if not years. Moorcock tries to examine this further but spends much of his time eliminating what Science Fiction is not. The title, ‘Process of Elimination’ explains why. And its findings in the end? Not a lot, other than the definition should be broad rather than narrow. It then looks at how the American magazines have evolved to illustrate this, citing The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction as the best example of how to move on from Campbell’s rather restrictive definition in magazines like Analog. This seems to be a determined attempt to broaden the template of New Worlds, something which Moorcock has been determined to do since he took over as Editor.

 

The Ship of Disaster, by B. J. Bayley

Elen-Gereth – the elf who wants to be Elric.  Art by James Cawthorn.

When this one begins it feels like Bayley has been reading a lot of Moorcock’s Elric stories – the vessel named The Ship of Disaster is a ship captained by Elen-Gereth, an elf, who takes great delight in sinking a human trading vessel and taking hostage its captain, a human named Kelgynn. All of this wouldn’t be amiss in the seas around Elric’s Melnibone, though this lacks the panache of Moorcock’s version. Elen-Gereth is appropriately brooding and complex. However, a story that reads like it should be in Science Fantasy rather than New Worlds has the twist that makes it more science-fictional, although its connection to SF is relatively slight. 3 out of 5.

Apartness, by Vernor Vinge

This is the first story I’ve read from a relatively new American writer. Apartness is a post-apocalyptic tale, with the Earth’s Northern hemisphere destroyed two hundred years ago in the North World War. The regions of the South exist as disparate groups by using a strange combination of science and mysticism – astrologers make decisions based on scientific evidence, for example.

The story is essentially a conflict between two groups in the Antarctic. One of them is a group from the Southern countries and the other a new tribe found on a general observational recce. The twist in the story is that the new group is the offspring of two refugee ships, luxury cruise liners fleeing the conflict. There is talk about what to do with them – should they continue to be observed but undisturbed, or should they be decimated as the descendants of white oppressors?

I enjoyed it a lot and expect to read more of his writing in the future, although it does feel more like something for Analog and The Magazine of Fantasy and SF than New Worlds. But a promising start – I suspect we’ll see more from this talented new writer in the future. 3 out of 5.

Convolutions, by George Collyn

Appropriately dark art for a dark story.  Art by Douthwaite.

George Collyn returns with a story that is quite different to his last, which was In One Sad Day in the April 1965 issue. It is a story of the awakening of an alien that feeds on fear and finds Earth an suitable place for colonisation. One of those very common stories that begins with “Who am I?” and then “Where am I?” (See also Patricia Hocknell’s Prisoner in Science Fantasy this month.) 3 out of 5.

Last Man Home, by R. W. Mackelworth

R W Mackelworth has a tendency of writing strange tales with varying degrees of success. His last was the attempt to be humorous story, The Changing Shape of Charlie Snuff in the April 1965 issue. It didn’t work for me, but this story is less funny and more to my tastes. Even if it is yet another post-apocalyptic story. Here we have bowler-hatted Jennings, a wandering tinker who relates his experiences to us by describing what he has seen and who he has met on his travels in the post-nuclear wilderness. On his arrival in the city-state of Gat we find Jennings and his donkey companion Jess arrive to tell the city elders that there is life in the Wastelands and then returns there. There are positive signs of life, leaving a certain degree of optimism in the end. The emphasis is on what is around Jennings rather than Jennings himself. It’s fine, if too long, but I’ve read it all before – notable for its un-remarkableness. 3 out of 5.

The Life Buyer (Part 3 of 3), by E.C. Tubb

The Sand Pit of Terror! (Actually, Moondust – but you get the idea).  Art by aTom.

We begin the last part of this entertaining three-part serial by following Ransom, the suspect our two detectives Dale Markham and Steve Delmonte have been monitoring. Ransom is looking for Joe Langdy, a search that will take him to the Moon. The first few chapters of this part we spend following Ransom in his search, which is pretty pointless. The end of this revenge story is where the two detectives explain their solution as to who wants to kill millionaire Marcus King. It wraps everything up pretty quickly in the end. It’s a solid enough tale, with the moral that money can’t quite buy you everything. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

I’m really pleased to see the return of Book Reviews, Science Articles and Letters this month. I missed them last issue.

The Book Reviews seem to want to make up for their absence of last month by taking up what seems like more space than usual this time around. Assistant Editor Langdon Jones deals with the longer, more-in-depth reviews this month of A Man of Double Deed by Leonard Daventry, which is readable, and Sundog by B N Ball, which wasn’t. John Brunner’s Telepathist was surprisingly new and interesting, and seen by Langdon Jones as one of Brunner’s best, before ending with the cryptic comment that it “….will probably be the last really good novel of science fiction that we will see from British writers.”

There are minor reviews for Ray Bradbury’s ‘tremendous’ Something Wicked This Way Comes and Of Demons and Darkness by John Collier, which is ‘repetitive’. John Carnell’s story collection New Writings in SF 2 is given a one-sentence review of “not very interesting”. (And having tried to read it myself, I can only agree.)

Charles Platt gives us one in-depth review this month, under the title of Diary of a Schizoid Hypochondriac. He reviews Brian Aldiss’s Earthworks, which he describes as “a monotonous diary of a schizoid hypochondriac of dubious intelligence who is pushed around throughout the book, including an irrelevant three-chapter flashback, by Higher Powers, until finally discovering an Answer which was obvious to the reader two chapters previously.” Hmm – not a fan then, Mr. Platt?

Editor Mike Moorcock as James Colvin offers us seven ’Quick Reviews’ of After Doomsday and Shield by Poul Anderson, The Martian Way by Isaac Asimov, The Drowned World by J G Ballard, New Writings in SF 3 and Lambda 1 and Others both edited by John Carnell and The Seventh Galaxy Reader edited by Frederik Pohl.

As you might expect from Colvin/Moorcock, he is effusive about the Ballard and the Carnell collections, and more scathing of the American imports. He defends his opinion of Poul Anderson’s work (like Mr Platt earlier, he’s not a fan either), preferring Asimov’s The Martian Way because Asimov is better on the science and more tightly controlled in his writing.

He also makes the claim that although he thought The Magazine of Fantasy and SF was his favourite American magazine, reading The Seventh Galaxy Reader has made him change his mind. (Pause here whilst our reviewer of Galaxy here at Galactic Journey picks himself off the floor…)

One oddity: We have James Colvin, who remember is really Mike Moorcock, reviewing Warriors of Mars by Edward P Bradbury, who is really Mike Moorcock. Confused? An Edgar Rice Burroughs influenced story, it is unsurprisingly “as good as anything by the Old Master”. Hmm.

The article is Gas Lenses Developed for Communications by Laser, a title which describes the article admirably.

The Letters pages continue to debate the ongoing issue of what is science fiction, and therefore what should or shouldn’t be included in New Worlds.


Ratings this month for issue 149 (the April 1965 issue). Life Buyer (part 1) doing well. Lots of joint runners up, which suggests to me either few reader responses or an issue that divides readers.

Summing up New Worlds

This is a good solid issue, though rarely outstanding. I enjoyed it more than the ‘Star Issue’ last month, if I’m honest. The title story I’m not sure that I totally got, but the Tubb serial was nicely done, if a little drawn out. Vernor Vinge is a name to watch out for in the future, I think.

 

Summing up overall

Both issues this month are solid, yet rather mundane. Science Fantasy seems to have gone for more stories and a greater variety, New Worlds has fewer stories but is mostly based on work by more New Worlds regulars. Like last month, the most memorable story (Aldiss’s A Pleasure Shared) is in Science Fantasy, but New Worlds is better overall. It is a lot closer than last month, but in the end this month’s best issue for me is Science Fantasy.

And that’s it for this time. Until the next…




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[May 24, 1965] Two faded stars (May Galactoscope #2)

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May's second Galactoscope reviews the latest works by two of the field's titans. Sadly, it looks like their best contributions are behind them, as the following article will demonstrate:


by Rosemary Benton

Mind Barriers and Mental Talents (Andre Norton's Three Against Witch World)

Andre Norton is a gem among authors. She is able to write everything from short stories to novels in quick succession, continues to be picked up by publishers (no small feat in the writing world), and has been able to carve out a reputation for herself as an author who can write extensive background lore into her stories.

That being said, I feel like Norton is in a bit of a writing funk lately. It hasn’t slowed her down, but her writing is starting to feel unbalanced. In particular, the trait that once was her strength – world building – is starting to weigh down her work. By the end of Three Against the Witch World, the third and newest short novel in the Witch World series, Norton successfully introduces better character development with respect to the earlier entries, but the world building is still too overpowering.

The Next Generation

Three Against the Witch World begins with a very condensed introduction to the early lives of Simon Tregarth and Lady Jaelithe's triplets. Told from the first-person narratives of the children, we learn that the first two decades of life have not been easy for anyone in the nation of Estcarp.

After the destabilization of Karsten at the conclusion of Web of the Witch World, a warlord stepped up to fill the power vacuum left by the former ruler Yvian and his extra-dimensional allies, the humanoid beings called The Kolder. Between the Alizon nation, the remains of Karsten and the formidable Falconers, Estcarp is locked in a long term guerrilla war that is slowly bleeding them dry.

Amazingly, despite marrying Earth man Simon Tregarth and thereby disavowing her role as a Witch, Lady Jaelithe still retains traces of the innate magic known (allegedly) only to be accessible in select virginal women. Unsurprisingly, given that Simon is also a Power user (albeit one from another planet), the couple's triplets Kyllan, Kemoc, and Kaththea are also born with strong magical tendencies.

They are soon left on their own after their parents depart on vague and mysterious missions. Kyllan, Kemoc, and Kaththea must contend not only with the front-line defense of the Estcarp nation, but with the jealousy and hostile machinations of the power hungry Witch Council. The Women of Power are determined to undermine the influence of Simon and Jaelithe, and the best way to do that is to take their daughter Kaththea for their own ranks.

By 20 years old the triplets are adrift in a highly unstable time with no nearby allies in all of Estcarp. Upon the ruthless kidnapping of Kaththea by the Witches, Kyllan and Kemoc decide to journey forth into the larger world to gain information and allies crucial to reclaiming the safety of their family.

What follows is a journey across all mapped nations, even into the twisted and nebulous eastern regions of the world – a massive mountain range interspersed with magically tainted creatures. It is literally a place which people are incapable of imagining due to a powerful collective compulsion in the human population. It's a race against time to save Kaththea, save Estcarp and prevent a horrific ancient accident from being repeated in the name of protecting their homeland.

The Witch World Lives On

Sounds like an amazing story, right? It's certainly an interesting premise with a solidly entertaining, if grandiose, climax. But is it a good read?

As I've noted in my review of Norton’s Witch World(1963) and its subsequent installment, if you like fiction liberally layered with lore and societal structures you will find this series intriguing. But just like before, Three Against the Witch World leaves the audience wanting a deeper connection to the main characters.

My, Oh My, Is It Ever So Dry

Stories that sacrifice character development for world building only engage their audience for so long before boredom begins to surface. With Kyllan, Kemoc and Kaththea as the beacons through Three Against the Witch World, it is a comparatively less tedious task to read through the extensive world history of Norton's realm. Three is still massively overwritten, but at least we have the enjoyment of seeing some of the cast grow instead of remaining stagnant cardboard cutouts.

Admittedly the triplets are not completely unique. They are rather standard fantasy warrior, scholar and sorceress/witch characters, but they are given more individuality than the previous protagonists of the series. Kyllan and Kemoc's strategics get much keener via increasingly difficult obstacles they face. Limitations are realized for Kemoc as he pieces together the knowledge held in Lormt, ancient bastion of scholarship, and Kaththea has to adapt to her increasing power.

However, Norton continues to hold her characters at arm's length. Her writing in general has been suffering of late because of this tendency: she is much more prone to showing her characters in action rather than letting us into their heads. Thus, the changes we see the triplets go through still have but a superficial connection with the audience. In short, within Three Against the Witch World we see that the series is still tripping over itself to engage with its audience.

Three Strikes and You're Out

At three entries into the series, the Witch World books continue to feel like Norton is far more interested in telling us about the mechanics of her world rather than the people living within it.

For existing Witch World fans, Three Against the Witch World offers new races and mysterious god-like entities, and I did appreciate Norton's attempts at expanded characterization. Nevertheless, that's not enough to save the series. After reading three books in the same series, I should have more than the shallowest of connections with the main characters. I should have a strong desire to continue to read further installments about their lives. The fact is, after reading Witch World, I don't. I know that Andre Norton is capable of better as a word smith and a story teller. Unfortunately, Three Against the Witch World is only worthy of a two and a half star rating.

Subspace Explorers, by E. E. 'Doc' Smith

By Jason Sacks

I was never a fan of E. E. “Doc” Smith.

Okay, that’s kind of unfair. It’s not that I read the man’s work and didn’t like it. Instead, I decided at a relatively early age that I didn’t want to read his juvenile sci-fi novels.

While some of my closest sci-fi loving middle school friends loved Smith’s Galactic Patrol stories, I never read any of his work, and the one time I borrowed one of his books from a friend I just never got around to cracking the cover. Maybe I felt an odd sort of aversion because I wanted to defy my pal Danny Alvarado’s deep love for Smith – you know, the way boys create friendly rivalries over nothing.

But that may be psychoanalysis after the fact. More likely I didn’t read Smith because I always wanted to read above my age group. Why read juveniles when there was so much great material being published by the likes of Asimov, Dick and Clarke?

Since I had never read any Smith as a kid, now seemed the perfect time to try out ol’ Doc’s work. I’ve grown older and mellowed a bit in my tastes in the last few years. So when my fine editor offered to have one of us staffers review a limited edition publication of Smith’s latest novel, Subspace Explorers, I jumped at the chance. Why not try a classic author, albeit one in the twilight of his career? I could either validate my pal Danny’s passion or smugly smile at myself that I made the right choice to skip Smith.

Well, young Jason is vindicated.

Subspace Explorers by E.E. Smith
The rather bland cover of Doc Smith's latest novel

Subspace Explorers is an odd book. It’s breakneck space opera sci-fi juxtaposed against a sort of exploration of psionics which in turn is juxtaposed against a kind of screed about a battle between virtuous business leaders and corrupt trade unionists. If you’re wondering how these odd elements all fit together in the space of some 200 pages, well, the answer is that they don’t.

The sci-fi and psionic stuff works the best in this book. The first chapter sets the stage with a disaster in space and the few survivors of that battle. This section speeds along in a kind of hurtling, breathtaking tumble of events in which the action seems never to stop, no matter that readers don’t have much of an idea who these characters are.

Once all the action begins to play out, we find there are nine survivors of the accident: four mafiosos, a genius, two officers, and two women. One of the women has the amazing psionic ability to detect any metal in space. After the mobsters are defeated, the women and officers very quickly get married and each of the couples have a baby after a pregnancy which is elongated by their time in space. Their kids inherit the psionic abilities and form a union of explorers who drive the rest of the book.

Right there in that quick summary of the crazily energetic beginning, you can see the joys and flaws of this book. It’s got energy and thrills. It’s got oddball ideas and puzzling events. It’s got thin characters and arbitrary plotlines. It’s got a lot of good and a lot of bad and I’m not sure I want to get into the discussions of labor unions which might embarrass Barry Goldwater in their stridency.

Even there, I might have enjoyed this book either as a grouchy polemic or the rambling of “an old man screaming get off my lawn,” as they say. But the shambolic plot, which seems assembled from several half-finished novels with the barest plot threads to connect them all, left me more baffled and annoyed than thrilled. If Doc wanted to produce a fun throwback space opera, why add the strange political notes, and if he wanted to write a screed, why include classic cardboard characters with psionic powers to muddy the waters?

Doc himself

Publisher Canaveral Press is well known for their lovely Edgar Rice Burroughs reissues, most with lovely art by Roy Krenkel and J. Allen St. John. This book boasts of the same high production values as the Burroughs books. It’s just too bad this book isn’t nearly a match for those classics.

Maybe Smith can pull his disparate storylines together if he writes a sequel to Subspace Explorers, but for a book released in hardcover in a limited edition with a matching grand cover price, this is a tremendous disappointment. Sorry Danny. Hope we can still have lunch together and discuss more pleasant things.

2 stars.




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[May 22, 1965] Goodbye and Hello (June 1965 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Departures and Arrivals

One of the more intriguing events this month was the death of a celebrity, although not one you're likely to see in the obituary column. A tortoise known as Tu'i Malila (meaning King Malila in the Tongan language, although she was female) died on the sixteenth of May. Why is this notable? Well, they say she was one hundred and eighty-eight years old, a ripe old age, even for a tortoise.

The story goes that Captain Cook gave her to the royal family of Tonga way back in 1777, making her nearly as old as the good old USA. Some dispute this story, although there is no doubt that she lived in Tonga for a very long time indeed. No stranger to royalty, she greeted the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth II when that monarch visited Tonga, a British protectorate, in 1953.


That's Elizabeth on the left, Tu'i Malila on the ground. You knew that, right?

As we bid farewell to this extraordinary reptile, we greet a new British import at the top of the American popular music charts. Herman's Hermits, hailing from Manchester, England, hit Number One this month with their version of Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter, a song first performed by actor Tom Courtenay in a British television play a couple of years ago.

Unlike many of the singers in British rock 'n' roll bands, lead man Peter Noone makes no attempt to disguise his accent. If anything, it sounds like he's exaggerating his Mancunian way of talking. (Yes, I just now learned the word Mancunian, and I'm showing off.)


Nobody in the band is named Herman. Go figure.

Exit Cele, Enter Joseph

My esteemed colleague John Boston has already reported, in fine detail, on the Ziff-Davis company selling Amazing and Fantastic to Sol Cohen. Editor Cele Goldsmith Lalli will remain with Ziff-Davis, working on their publication Modern Bride. Frankly, I think that's a step up for her, given the minimal interest that the publisher had in their fiction magazines.

Joseph Wrzos, using the more Anglo-Saxon name Joseph Ross, will be the editor, under the direction of Cohen. Fantastic will contain reprints from old issues of the two Ziff-Davis magazines, as will Amazing. The sister publications will alternate bimonthly publication. Of course, they will continue to publish new stories purchased by Lalli for a while, given the exceedingly slow way the publishing industry works. I hope that Wrzos will also offer previously unseen work once these run out.

As we lift a glass of champagne to Cele, and bid her a fond bon voyage as she sets sail for the world of wedding dresses and honeymoons, let's take a look at the last issue that will bear her name.


Cover art by Gray Morrow

Thelinde's Song, by Roger Zelazny

You may recall the story Passage to Dilfar in the February issue, which introduced the character Dilvish the Damned. He was a mysterious figure indeed, and that tale provided only hints as to his strange nature. This one gives us some of his background.

A young sorceress sings a ballad about Dilvish and the evil wizard Jelerak. Her mother warns her not to speak the name of the villain aloud, lest she draw the attention of one of his wicked minions. She then relates the encounter between the half-elf Dilvish and the sorcerer, as Jelerak was about to sacrifice a virgin in order to work his black magic.

Jelerak turned the heroic Dilvish into stone, and sent his soul to Hell. A couple of centuries later, Dilvish managed to return to life, this time with a talking steel horse as his mount. The rest of the story shows us why it's a bad idea to speak the name of Jelerak.

Although Dilvish only appears in flashback, he dominates the story, becoming a fascinating character. The author's style is poetic, creating a memorable sword-and-sorcery adventure. I hope we see more tales in this series.

Four stars.


This anonymous illustration appears at the end of the story. It has nothing to do with anything in the magazine.

The Destroyer, by Thomas N. Scortia

The setting is some time after a limited nuclear war, which apparently more-or-less destroyed Asia. The Western world, it seems, recovered nicely, leading to a society well on its way to a technological utopia. People travel by riding some kind of electromagnetic beams. For all intents and purposes, this is pretty much flying like Superman.

Anyway, the protagonist is the head of something called the Genetic Bank, which controls the manipulation of plant and animal genes. A government agent asks him to report any evidence of human genetic tampering, which is a crime so severe that it carries the only death penalty left on the book.

The hero investigates the case of a young boy named Julio. Although classified as severely mentally disabled, he has somehow managed to create a pair of magnetic blocks that produce a stream of energy between them.

Meanwhile, the main character's love interest, a woman just back from Titan, is dying from a fungus acquired on that moon of Saturn. When Julio removes a mole from the man's hand, just by thinking about it, you can predict what's going to happen at the end. Along the way the government agent gets involved in things, seeing Julio as a threat to the planet.

There are very few surprises in this tale of a kid with superhuman mental powers. The background is somewhat interesting, even if implausible. The premise that Earth folk have become timid and complacent, compared to those who explore the Solar System, was intriguing, but didn't lead to much. The notion that there is something inherently wrong with the accepted view of science, compared to the way the boy thinks, was unconvincing. Overall, I got the feeling that I've read this stuff before, as if it were a mediocre story from Analog.

Two stars.

The Penultimate Shore, by Stanley E. Aspittle, Jr.

A writer completely unknown to me spins a dream-like fantasy with hints of allegory. A man named Cipher winds up on a deserted shore after a shipwreck. Half-sunken into the ocean are the ruins of a city. He has visions of a boy and girl in the waves. A woman named Huitzlin, the Aztec word for hummingbird, emerges from the sea and becomes his lover. An old man called Thanatos shows up as well. It all leads up to Cipher's final fate.

I really don't know what to make of this story. It's full of beautiful and evocative descriptions, but the author's intention is opaque. The character's names are suggestive, but the symbolism is unclear, except for the way that Thanatos is explicitly connected with death. If nothing else, it made me think, which is a good thing, I suppose.

Three stars.

The Other Side of Time (Part Three of Three), by Keith Laumer

Our universe-hopping narrator escapes from the prehistoric world where he wound up last time with the help of his ape-man buddy from another reality. The hairy fellow explains that the evil folks from yet another parallel cosmos — another type of ape-men — destroyed the hero's home world.

All seems lost, until the buddy suggests that it might be possible to travel to that universe in such a way that the narrator arrives there before it's wiped out. In a nutshell, time travel.

The hero shows up just a short time before things are going to go very badly indeed. Not only does he face the menace of the invading ape-men, he has to convince the local authorities of his identity. Then there's the mysterious burning figure he encountered in the first installment; what does that have to do with anything?

After the relatively calm mood of the second part, the conclusion of the novel returns to the frenzied pace of the first part. There's also a lot of scientific double talk to try to justify the odd way that time travel operates in this story. It held my interest, even if I didn't believe in anything that was happening for a moment. Compared to the highly enjoyable middle section, the rest of the novel is merely a decent enough science fiction action yarn.

Three stars.


Another piece of filler art. I actually like this abstract image.

The Little Doors, by David R. Bunch

Two pages of pure surrealism from the the magazine's most controversial author. Some white egg-shaped things come out of the little doors of the title and onto an egg-shaped stage. Rectangular black things show up, open the lids of the egg-things, put pieces of themselves inside, and pull out small stones of multiple colors.

If the author is trying to make some kind of serious point, he doesn't help matters by called the stage ogg, the white things loolbools, and the black things guenchgrops. Maybe it's just my dirty mind, but I got the feeling that this was some kind of bizarre metaphor for human reproduction. I have to give it a little credit for sheer weirdness.

Two stars.


Has someone been doodling on the page?

Phog, by Piers Anthony

The inhabitants of a strange world face the menace of a seemingly sentient cloud of poisonous gas, as well as the deadly beast that lurks inside it. After losing his sister to the thing, a boy grows up to build an elaborate trap for it. Capturing and destroying the cloud and the creature is not at all easy, coming only at great cost.

The author certainly shows plenty of imagination. The way in which the young man uses sunlight, the cloud's only weakness, is interesting. Other than that, the plot proceeds just about the way you expect it to.

Three stars.

Silence, by J. Hunter Holly

Because the Noble Editor wishes to keep track of the number of female authors published in the genre magazines, allow me to point out the J stands for Joan. She's published half a dozen or so science fiction novels. I believe this is her first short story to see the light of day.

In an overpopulated future full of noisy gadgets, the level of sound increases to the point where people no longer hear. Their ears still work, you understand; it's just that their brains turn off the sensation of hearing. Music is just something that causes needles to move around on dials.

The protagonist is one such musician. He regains his hearing, in a society that has completely forgotten about sound, by blocking out all sources of noise, until his brain regains its lost function. His attempt to bring his rediscovery of real music to audiences leads to an ironic ending.

The premise is intriguing, if not the most believable one in the world. I found it hard to accept that music would survive in the way the story suggests among people who can't hear it. I'll admit that I liked the downbeat conclusion.

Three stars.

Before We Say Farewell

We have a typical issue of the magazine, with some high points, some low points, and a lot in the middle. I'd like to take a moment to look back on the editor's time with the publication. She introduced promising new writers like LeGuin, Disch, and Zelazny, who have already proved their worth. More questionably, she published the unique work of Bunch, which certainly tests the limits of fantastic literature. She also helped Leiber get back to the typewriter, which justifies her career all by itself. I'm sure we all wish her well in her new line of work.

Thanks, Cele!




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Fashion, music, politics, sports

[May 20th, 1965] Monokini: The Madness Continues!

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by Gwyn Conaway

The Monokini, featured in orange. The Pope, Denmark, Greece, and the Netherlands have all banned it.

With summer on the verge, everyone’s attention is turning to swimwear, and I don’t think anyone will be talking about anything but Rudi Gernreich’s Monokini for a good while! The fashion activist is known for stirring up the hornet’s nest of Western sensibilities, apropos of his personal history and artistic goals. Let’s take a look at his past, and also at his shocking beachwear.

Rudi Gernreich, 1964.

Bear with me as I tell you of Rudi Gernreich’s childhood. He grew up in Vienna, Austria, the son of a stocking maker. He spent his afternoons in his aunt’s dress shop where he would sketch designs and share them with her clients. At age twelve, he was offered an apprenticeship by designer Ladislaus Zettel in London, but his mother declined due to his age.

His dress shop days did more than just betray his talent for fashion though. He recounts his first explorations of sexuality in fashion, and the liberation of women through their candid conversations in his young presence. His homeland was known also for promoting nude exercise during the time, in defiance of Western norms as much as for health. In 1938, Adolf Hitler banned this practice, and a sixteen year old Rudi fled Austria with his widowed mother for Los Angeles.

It was at this point that he began studying the arts in earnest. He attended the Los Angeles City College, and then the renowned Los Angeles Art Center School. He fell into fashion design some time after, a winding road that included dance and costume design, and a rejection of the American obsession with Parisian sophistication. He also helped found the Mattachine Society, a gay rights organization, in 1950.

Over the years, Gernreich's activist heart and artistic genius have formed a close bond, resulting in the scandalous Monokini. But we should have seen this scandal coming. In 1962 he predicted its arrival, saying that “bosoms will be uncovered within five years” in Women’s Wear Daily. And much to my amusement, he was recently quoted as saying that, for the sake of history, he had to fulfill his own prophecy before Emilio Pucci.

Peggy Moffit, photographed by husband William Claxton, in the infamous Monokini. It was named for its counterpart the bikini. A nice but inaccurate play on words. The bikini is named for the Bikini Atoll, an island used by the US for nuclear testing.

The result is the Monokini. Despite exposing the bust, it actually covers more skin than the bikini with its high-waisted bottom. Straps bisect the bust and run over the shoulders. In another nod to tradition and conservatism, the swimsuit is made of the same woolen fabric used in Victorian swimwear.

Women in 1925, wearing wool bathing suits. The material choices and shape of the Monokini speak to one of Gernreich's overarching goals in art: to humanize women rather than sexualize them through the freedom of their bodies.

The Monokini is a statement rather than merchandise. Although it’s currently on shelves, Gernreich has stated he doesn’t expect to sell any, and hadn’t intended to. In fact, he had to be persuaded to even take photos, calling on muse Peggy Moffit to wear it, and her creative cohort of a husband William Claxton to photograph it.

The journey of just the photographs itself is truly interesting. Look published the first photograph, from the back. Women’s Wear Daily followed suit, showing it from the front. When Gernreich approached Life about publishing the photos, their letter in response claimed they only print “aborigine” women’s breasts. (I would love to know Gernreich, Moffit, and Claxton’s thoughts on this! I hope notions such as this are abolished in quick fashion.) The image that lit the world on fire was accepted by Life however: Moffit with her arms crossed, covering her chest.

Despite Western reactions to the Monokini, Gernreich’s interests actually lay in the emancipation of women from over-sexualization and social censorship. He challenges the shameful gaze in Western beliefs, and tries to push society to see women as human beings rather than ‘other’. I find his work to be incredibly engaging and thoughtful, far more so than the tabloids make the Monokini out to be.

If the Monokini doesn’t single-handedly push us towards a moderate view of the human body, I’m sure Gernreich’s work in the next decade will!




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 18, 1965] Rubber Ball (or Skip the End) (June 1965 Fantasy & Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Bouncin' Back to You

Cast your memories back to the distant past — about four years. Remember when Bobby Vee exploded on the scene with his first hit, Rubber Ball.

It's a song about a fellow who should know better than to stick with an untrue love but, like a rubber ball, keeps coming back to her anyhow.  The tune came to my mind more than once as I read this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction, a magazine that has plumbed depths often enough to tempt me to cancel my subscription, but on occasion (like this one) produces such an excellent issue that I remember the good times of the 1950s, and love is rekindled.

Is it the doing of new editor Joe Ferman?  Statistical variation?  Either way, it was a pleasure to read.  Come join me and see why:

Bounce my heart around


by James Roth

Admiralty, by Poul Anderson

We begin with an ending of sorts, the conclusion to the exploits of Gunnar Heim, late of the Federation Navy, now a privateer savaging the Aleriona patch of stars known as The Phoenix.  His goal, to prosecute an undeclared war to liberate the conquered human world of New Europe before its inhabitants run out of Vitamin C, is about to come to fruition.  But how can one ship achieve victory against a starfaring empire?  More personally, will an old flame of Heim's be waiting for him planetside when all is said and done?

Admiralty is Anderson near the top of his form, which, like a sine wave, has definite positive and negative amplitudes.  What makes the piece frustrating is its incompleteness.  This novella and the other two that have recently appeared in F&SF are about to be compiled into a book called The Star Fox, and I strongly suspect that there will be expansions above and beyond what has appeared in the magazines.  Indeed, some of the most exciting episodes in Admiralty, like the capture of the Aleriona prize, Meroeth, are dispatched in a paragraph or two of exposition.  What remains is something of a Readers Digest abridged version — entertaining but dissatisfying.

Also, I wish Anderson wouldn't assume that we all speak French; there are paragraphs and paragraphs of the stuff that go largely untranslated.  I'm going to start sending him letters in Japanese…

Anyway, four stars, for this and the whole sequence, and I suspect the book will be even better.  Certainly Hugo material.

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, by Fredric Brown and Carl Onspaugh

Dooley Hanks, a clarinetist of modest talent but tremendous desire, scours the world looking (listening?) for The Sound.  When he finds it, in an obscure town in Germany, the temptation to claim it for his own becomes overpowering…and hazardous.

A powerful story, evocative and beautifully told, it's the kind of reworked fable Robert F. Young wishes he could write.

Five stars.


by Gahan Wilson — better than his previous ones

Books, by Judith Merril

Normally, I don't give inches to the book column, but Ms. Merril is cutting and insightful in a way I can only hope to approximate. Don't miss her take on the latest SF to cross her desk (many of which have been covered by the Journey).

Rake, by Ron Goulart

Ben Jolson, shape-changing agent of the Chameleon Corps, is back for another adventure.  This time, in the guise of a student, he's investigating the development of a super-weapon by an academic ensconced at a public college.

This tale is far more obviously slapstick than his previous one, which I had quite liked.  Rake is just too silly, too random to be very good, and there's no reason for such a short piece to begin in medias res followed by a flashback to How It All Began.

Two stars.

Phoenix (the Science Springboard), by Theodore L. Thomas

Normally, Thomas' non-fiction vignettes, more story seed than article, aren't worth the two pages they're printed on.  This time, I quite liked his postulation that at the center of every gas giant lies a terrestrial core.  I don't know if it's accurate; I don't know how we could verify the accuracy, but it is an exciting idea that the planets of the solar system all started out as roughly similar planetoids that grew atmospheres as time went on.  Only the inner ones lost theirs because it was too warm so close to the Sun.

Of course, it's easy to make models that fit the one set of data we have.

Four stars, anyway.

The Ancient Last, by Herb Lehrman

The first of two reader-submitted stories fulfilling the call for tales involving Univac and Unicorns.  This is the more poetic of the pair.  Interestingly, its poignant ending is somewhat marred by two additional paragraphs; because the offending superfluity occurs on a following page, I didn't originally see them, and I thought the ending was stronger than it ended up being.

Funny enough, I was recently rejected by F&SF, whose editor suggested I trim out my terminal line to give the ending more punch.  I did.  We'll see how it does.

Stand-In, by Greg Benford

Another first from a fellow San Diego native.  This Univac/Unicorn story is more swinging and fun, but not particularly consequential.

I give three stars to both.  I'm glad the authors got their breaks and I hope this sets them on their way to stardom.

Story of a Curse, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Earth spacers are forever restless in search of change, intolerant of stagnation.  But when Earth, itself, has changed, the astronauts see the folly of their wanderlust.

Long on emotion, short on coherence, Story is more prose-poem than science fiction.  I liked it well enough, though.  Three stars.

Nabonidus, by L. Sprague de Camp

Archaeologist meets a ghostly colleague of ancient vintage.  This poem has a strange meter, but again, it's appealing.  Three stars.

Future? Tense!, by Isaac Asimov

In a surprise disappointment, the science column is probably my least favorite piece of the issue.  The Good Doctor begins by relating how on-the-spot he feels when asked to predict the future, then says he'll do it anyway, and then doesn't really do it at all.

At a recent bookstore interview, I was asked if a science fiction story's value is based on its predictive accuracy.  I felt that the answer I gave ("No — its value is in how well it entertains; science fiction can't predict the future; it can only extrapolate current trends.") was better and more succinct than the one Dr. A offers.

Two stars.

Of Time and the Yan, by Roger Zelazny

The Last Man of Earth meets the Last Man of Mars; unfortunately, time is not on the side of humanity.

Zelazny increasingly makes his stories more affectedly "literate."  It may get his stories sold, but it's getting tedious.  Two stars.  (Your hue and cry tells me I'm a too-harsh boor.  I do not disagree.)

Jabez O'Brien and Davy Jones' Locker, by Robert Arthur

Lastly, here is the tale of a young New England fisherman who seeks to win fame, fortune, wisdom and happiness through the capture of a mermaid.  Instead, he winds up…well, best not to spoil this gem of a story.

It's an absolutely charming work, the best I've seen from Mr. Arthur, and made all the better for my imagining it being narrated by Fractured Fairy Tale's Edward Everett Horton (now you'll have his voice in your head, too!)

Five stars.

My heartstrings, they just snap

In the end, even this issue bounces around like a rubber ball, but the pages of quality far outnumber the momentary lapses.  The June 1965 issue of F&SF is a stand-out…and my love is rekindled.

Don't break my heart, Joe!

Don't forget to register for our show on May 23 at 1PM DT!  We really want to see you there and hear your questions.





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Science Fiction/Fantasy

The 1965 Hugo ballot is out!

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by Gideon Marcus

This year's Worldcon will be in London this year, and they've already released the names of the nominees for the 1965 Hugo Award (for the best science fiction of 1964):

Since the Journey has covered virtually everything on the list, we've created a little crib sheet so you can vote in an educated fashion.

Also, we'll be talking about this ballot on May 23rd at 1PM PDT on a special broadcast of KGJ Channel 9 — so please tune in and join us in the discussion!

Best Novel:

Davy — It made Honorable Mention last year (I've only read the two novelettes that comprise the bulk of the story).  Cora's reviewed it.

The Planet Buyer — Really just a slightly expanded version of The Boy Who Bought Old Earth, which really shouldn't be judged alone, finished as it is by The Store of Heart's Desire.  Anyway, it got the Star, and I reviewed both.

The Wanderer — It, pointedly, did not get a Star.  Jason reviewed it.

The Whole Man — It got honorable mention.  Victoria Silverwolf reviewed it.

Best short story:

Little Dog Gone — VS reviewed it.  She gave it 4 stars, and I think that's fair.  It's fine, but no one nominated it for a Star.

Once a Cop — I reviewed it and I did nominate this one for the Star.

Soldier, Ask Not — I reviewed it.  It got nominated for the Star (not by me, but enough others did, and it was good enough not to merit argument).

Best Pro Magazine:

Your mileage may vary! However, we did meticulously rank them when we awarded the Stars last year.

Best Fanzine:

Double Bill A quarterly of news, articles, fanzine reviews, some poetry (genzine), and some big names slumming.  Two years old.

Yandro A venerable monthly that has been nommed for the Hugo a zillion times.  Another genzine.

Zenith A new genzine, probably a monthly (I haven't read this one)

[I should probably read all of the genzines more regularly, but my — 'zine plate is full with the news 'zines: Science Fiction Times, Ratatosk, and Fecal Pint…er Focal Point.]

Best Artist:

Ed Emshwiller

Frank Frazetta — he's pretty much escaped my ken this year, but here's a recent book cover:

Jack Gaughan

John Schoenherr

Best Publisher:

Ace Plenty of good stuff there including Delany's Towers of Toron, a lot of Andre Norton, and Purdom's excellent I Want the Stars.

Ballantine They did Davy, Martian Time Slip, but also The Wanderer and The Reefs of Space (in itself not bad, but the sequel was awful).  Also, lots of Burroughs reprints.

Gollancz Not quite so busy as the first two, and no titles that got the Star, but some decent ones in there.

Pyramid The weakest of them, to my mind, and the one (aside from Ace) I read the most from last year.

Best Dramatic Presentation:

Seven Faces of Dr. Lao, reviewed by Vicki Lucas, nominated for the Star.

Dr. Strangelove, reviewed by Rosemary Benton, awarded the Star.

Y'all Come

We want your opinion at our upcoming show, so please register — it's free, and it'll ensure you are promptly notified of our upcoming shows.

See you there!





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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[May 16, 1965] Gathering Dust (Doctor Who: The Space Museum)

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By Jessica Holmes

Thank you for joining me today, everybody. I hope we’ve all got our visitor’s passes and will be keeping our hands to ourselves, because today we’re going to be taking a tour of The Space Museum, and the main exhibit? The Doctor and his companions! Today’s serial was written by Glyn Jones.

The spaceship graveyard, with museum centre frame.

Continue reading [May 16, 1965] Gathering Dust (Doctor Who: The Space Museum) →

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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[May 14, 1965] Keep A Civil Tongue In Your Head (July 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

The Four Forbidden Topics

Gathered around the dinner table with the family, or just chatting with friends, it's generally a good idea to avoid controversial subjects. Religion and politics, for example, are likely to lead to unpleasant arguments. Maybe Uncle Fred is a Goldwater buff, and Cousin Sue goes all the way with LBJ. Possibly you've got buddies who belong to different faiths, or none at all. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, and talk about something else.

The topic of money, or economics in general, may not be as controversial, but talking about how much you've got, or what somebody else earns, is generally considered to be in bad taste. As for sex, well, that's usually too personal to discuss, particularly if the kiddies are around.

Maybe it's a sign of the times, or maybe it's the influence of the British New Wave on science fiction, but the lead serial in the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow deals with religion, politics, and economics. That leaves sex, which shows up at the end of the magazine, like a tempting dessert.


Cover art by John Pederson, Jr.

Of Godlike Power (Part One of Two), by Mack Reynolds


Illustrations by Jack Gaughan

As indicated in the picture above, this novel takes place in a world of flying cars and other futuristic stuff. More relevant to the plot is the fact that automation results in a majority of folks being unemployed, but enjoying a reasonably comfortable existence in an affluent welfare society.

The protagonist hosts a radio show dealing with flying saucers, reincarnation, and other weird stuff. He's dating the daughter of the tycoon who owns the station, mostly in an attempt to move up to a position in television. Dad, daughter, and the station manager all belong to a right-wing organization dedicated to ferreting out commies and pinkos. (To give you some idea of this group, they think of the John Birch Society as too liberal.)

The manager asks our hero to check out the revival meetings of a preacher whom they suspect of subversion. He's supposed to be on a date with his wealthy girlfriend, so she reluctantly tags along.

The preacher speaks in vaguely religious language of an eccentric sort, frequently making reference to something called the All-Mother. What he really talks about, however, is the world's economic system, condemning wasteful practices such as pointless changes in car design, fads and fashions that come and go, planned obsolescence, and conspicuous consumption.

This is too much for the rich woman, so she heckles him. The preacher loses his temper and rants against makeup, fancy clothing, and elaborate hairdos. The next thing you know, the woman changes her ways, dressing simply and avoiding cosmetics. Not that she agrees with the guy, you understand; it's just that those things make her itch unbearably. Pretty soon the same thing happens to women all over the world, ushering in an era of down home, farm girl fashions.


Crisis in the radio studio!

The preacher winds up on the protagonist's radio show. Things get out of control, so the fellow goes into another tirade, this time against radio and, by extension, television.

The reader is way ahead of the characters by this point, so it's not a big surprise when all broadcasting goes haywire, forcing people to abandon their favorite forms of entertainment. With all those unemployed folks desperate for something to fill their hours, there's a sudden shortage of comic books and magazines. Bars and movie theaters are packed to overflowing. Even the preacher's revival meetings attract huge crowds, just because they have nothing else to do.


Would you buy a used car from this man?

Although not comic in tone, the novel has a strong satiric edge to it. The setting may be some years from now, but the author is really talking about today. The targets of his barbed examination of modern society are overproduction and excess consumption, as well as the seductive power of the electronic media.

The style is very readable, carrying you along as you follow the misadventures of the hapless hero. The preacher's astonishing ability to transform the world may not be particularly plausible, but once you swallow the premise the way it plays out is enjoyable.

Reynolds likes to play games with politics, and perform thought experiments with different economic systems, so I predict the second half of the novel will portray a new society, possibly a utopian one. We'll see if I'm right a couple of months from now.

Four stars.

Coming Out Party, by Robert Lory


Illustration by Norman Nodel

This brief tale begins with a young woman getting ready for the event mentioned in the title. Our first hint that something strange is going on is the fact that she's stark naked in front of her parents. The ceremony is also full of nude women. (Sorry, ladies, all the erotic content of this issue is obviously aimed at a male audience.)

I dare not say anything else about what happens, except to mention that the shock ending is an effective one. This is one of those stories that depends entirely on the twist in its tail. It succeeds at the modest goal it sets for itself.

Three stars.

The Shape of Us to Come, by Michael Girsdansky

Let's take a break from controversial topics of discussion and learn something about the way people might alter their bodies in the future. The author considers the fact that viruses inject their genetic information into the cells of other organisms, using the biological machinery of their hosts to reproduce themselves. The article speculates about the possibility of harnessing this ability to alter the genetics of humans in desirable ways.

Using this technique to treat diseases such as cancer seems reasonably plausible. The suggestion that the body might be changed in radical ways, to ensure survival on alien worlds, is a little less so. In any case, it's an interesting subject, and I learned something about viruses.

Three stars.

World of the Spectrum, by Emil Petaja


Illustrations by John Giunta

Take a look at that picture. We've got a muscular hero with a bladed weapon and a big, ugly monster. Am I reading the wrong magazine? Is this a sword-and-sorcery yarn, rescued from the yellowing pages of Weird Tales?

That's what it seems like at first, but we soon find out that this world of mighty barbarians fighting bizarre creatures exists for the amusement of the upper class on Earth, who vicariously experience the thrill of battle through a kind of telepathic sensory television.

The hero is in mental communication with a woman he thinks of as a princess in a castle located at the top of a cliff that nobody can climb. Naturally, he overcomes impossible odds and reaches the place, only to discover that things are not what they seem.


Don't look down!

The woman is actually a member of the upper class, who secretly belongs to a group of folks working to overthrow their repressive society. She uses a teleportation device to bring the man to Earth, teaching him about the place and enlisting him in her struggle. After many adventures, she confronts the ruler of the world, who turns out to be truly grotesque.


The heroine is shocked by what she sees.

Despite the science fiction explanation for everything, the story feels more like a fantasy adventure. The ruler of Earth might as well be another hideous monster for the hero to destroy. At first, the woman seems to be nothing more than a sexually provocative nitwit, but this is only a role she plays in order to further her plans. The main flaw is the need for a lot of expository dialogue to explain the complex background, with people telling each other things they should already know.

Three stars.

Lunar Weapons Tomorrow, by Joseph Wesley

Before we move on to sex, let's talk about something much less shocking, like war. (There's something wrong with that sentence, but I'll think about it later.)

The author starts this piece about military use of the Moon by dismissing the idea that it could be used to launch missiles at an enemy on Earth. He points out that this method is more difficult, more expensive, less effective, and less defensible than other ways of destroying the planet. Somehow I'm not reassured.

He goes on to imagine lunar military installations, assuming that these will be common in about twenty years or so. His prediction is that these will engage in a kind of lukewarm war, neither one completely destroying the other lest it be wiped out as well. Instead, the opposing forces make relatively minor forays against each other, fighting for territory in a futuristic version of the trench warfare of World War One.

The dry and rather frightening subject of this article is made more readable through the use of a fictional soldier on the Moon. We follow him as he watches for an enemy advance, and even engages in hand-to-hand combat, of a sort, in a spacesuit.

Three stars.

A Glass of Mars, by Robert F. Young


Illustrations by Gray Morrow

The version of the Red Planet depicted in this story is closer to the imaginings of Ray Bradbury than what most scientists believe. Maybe the Mariner 4 spacecraft, now on its way to Mars, will tell us who's right. Anyway, the plot takes place at least a full generation after people colonized the planet, building on the ancient ruins of the long-vanished Martians.

The main character is a new arrival, with romantic ideas about the distant past. In sharp contrast, his secretary, born on Mars, is all about the present. Like other women native to the planet, she is sexually assertive, openly boasting about her measurements, calling herself a sex machine, and offering to sleep with her boss (with the assumption that they will be married soon after.)

While commuting across the surface of Mars, the fellow is miraculously transported to the past. He meets a Martian woman, as delicately beautiful and demure as he imagined.

(In just about all ways except language, the Martian is completely human. We're told, more than once, that she has hyacinth hair. This rather obscure metaphor is taken from Edgar Allan Poe's ode To Helen, and it's not much clearer in the original. The allusion seems designed to suggest the man's dreamy vision of the ancient Martian woman, as romantic as Poe's poem.)


The ancient Martian and the modern human. Gentlemen, which one would you pick?

Without giving too much away, let's just say that the man's assumptions aren't completely accurate. I expected this to be a simple fable about the superiority of the past over the vulgarity of the present, but it's a little more complex than that. The author, no stranger to sentimental love stories and idealization of women, almost seems to be chiding himself for his romantic tendencies. The plot is pure fantasy, of course, but if you can get past that, it's worth a look.

Three stars.

Shall We Talk About It?

Overall, this was a pretty decent issue. Nothing was less than average, and the serialized novel was a high point. Maybe I'm just in a good mood. In any case, I would caution you to make sure that you discuss the themes raised in the magazine only under the right circumstances. Remember what Mom told you!


She didn't mention money or sex. Two out of four ain't bad.





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Magazine/Anthology, Serial

[May 12, 1965] Da Capo (June 1965 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Changing of the Guard

So here we are at the end of the Ziff-Davis Amazing and the editorship of Cele Lalli.  What’s next?  The magazine doesn’t say.  “Coming Next Month” is conspicuous by its absence, as are interior illustrations.  But the story is being told elsewhere.  The banner headline on Science Fiction Times for last month—if “banner” is the word for large crude mimeographed lettering—says “ ‘AMAZING’ AND ‘FANTASTIC’ GO BI-MONTHLY & ADD 32 PAGES,” just above “DON FORD IS DEAD!”

The first post-Z-D issue will be the August Amazing, and thereafter the magazines will be published in alternate months as the new owner and editor try to build circulation, by leaving each issue on sale for a longer time, in preparation for a return to monthly publication.  The new publisher, as previously disclosed, will be Sol Cohen, and now it is announced that the managing editor—presumably, the guy who picks the stories—will be Joseph Ross, actual name Joseph Wrzos, but he is showing mercy to native English spellers.

Part of the plan for the new Amazing (and the new Fantastic too) is to use reprints as part of the contents, along with the original illustrations, a policy the SF Times describes as a “well-liked” recent feature of the Ziff-Davis Amazing.  Well-liked by some, no doubt, but most of the stories seemed to me to have only historical interest. 

Worse, even partial reliance on reprints from Amazing is a bad bet at least for any long term, since Amazing has been pretty mediocre through most of its history.  During the 1930s it fell progressively further behind the limited competition of the day, both in circulation and in interest, and then was purchased by Ziff-Davis and put in the charge of the notorious Ray Palmer, whose instruction to writers is said to have been “Gimme bang-bang.” From 1938 to 1949 Palmer filled the magazine with formulaic and juvenile adventure fiction, much of it produced by a coterie of local Chicago writers who mostly published little or nothing elsewhere, with much of their output in Amazing appearing under “house names” (pseudonyms maintained by the publisher for work by multiple writers).

The magazine enjoyed a brief renaissance (well, maybe a nascence) starting in 1953 when it switched from pulp to digest size and, more importantly, raised its pay rates, attracting bigger names and better material.  But it didn’t last; the rates were cut, and the magazine reverted by late 1954 to calculated mediocrity: mostly formulaic contents written by a new stable of regulars, though they kept some of the old house names, such as the durable Alexander Blade, a byline that flourished from 1940 to 1958.  Little improvement was visible until about 1959, when new editor Cele Goldsmith began her salvage operation.

So the past of Amazing is a barrel whose bottom will be scraped quickly, full of fish mostly not worth shooting.  One hopes for something more forward-looking as well from the new regime.

The Issue at Hand


by Gray Morrow

This final Ziff-Davis issue exemplifies the decidedly mixed bag of the Cele Goldsmith/Lalli regime: a potboiler of a serial from a prominent writer, an exercise in the higher self-parody by one of her best-known discoveries, a brief inconsequential story by a completely unknown new writer . . . the inescapable nemesis Robert F. Young . . . and David R. Bunch, the writer the readers loved to hate.  Not only is his story flagged and illustrated on the cover, but Bunch is also profiled and quoted extensively in the final editorial.  (Usually they’re by Lobsenz, but this one isn’t signed.  Lalli, maybe, at last?) This celebration of Bunch might be viewed as a final gesture of defiance from the editorial team, especially given the cover illustration of a robot waving two sledge hammers in fury.  But . . . probably not.  After all, Lalli is sticking around Ziff-Davis to edit Modern Bride.

The Corridors of Time (Part 2 of 2), by Poul Anderson

The largest fiction item is the conclusion of Poul Anderson’s perfectly adequate but neither inspired nor inspiring serial The Corridors of Time, the title of which is unfortunately literal.  Our hero Lockridge has been hired by the beautiful, enigmatic, and imperious Storm Dalloway to help her find some buried treasure in Jutland, but what she’s really about is a time war.  Turns out there are two contending factions, the Wardens and the Rangers, the former (Storm’s side) supporting a relaxed social philosophy consonant with matriarchal religion and traditional knowledge, the latter supporting a more regimented view consonant with science and patriarchal religion (to oversimplify grossly—and it is a bit of a set-up on Anderson’s part). 

So how does this time war work?  Well, there’s the rub, or lack of one.  Unlike its predecessors—Leiber’s Change War series, Jack Williamson’s The Legion of Time, Anderson’s own Time Patrol stories—in this one, you can’t change history.  So . . . what’s the point?  Well, as the synopsis (presumably written by Anderson) puts it, an agent can “become part of it, setting the mark of his own civilization on a culture and thus building up reserves for a final showdown.” That’s not changing history?  Maybe just a little?

This makes no sense at all, and undermines the story.  The time travel mechanism doesn’t help either.  The Corridors of Time are just that, long corridors buried in the earth at various places, with access to various times over spans of a few thousand years; just walk or ride down the corridor, and you go 35 days per foot, and you take the exit you want for the time you want, and also you can have chases and shootouts up and down the corridor, as happens within the first few pages.  As icons of the imagination go, this is pretty unimaginative.

On the plus side, Anderson gets to chase his characters around various historical eras, which Anderson seems to know well and in most cases to prefer to the present, and Lockridge reluctantly finds himself with an appealing Neolithic girlfriend (setting up an . . . unusual . . . triangle with Miss Dalloway), and ultimately Lockridge decides not to go back to the Twentieth Century, in a final affirmation of the barbarian virtues.  Overall, perfectly readable product, but below standard for a writer who has done much better.  Three stars, barely.  There’s a note indicating an expanded version is to come from Doubleday later.

The Furies, by Roger Zelazny

Roger Zelazny’s novelet The Furies is ridiculous—purposefully so, it seems.  The author spends the first six pages in exposition, introducing us to Sandor Sandor, catastrophically disabled, but also a non-idiot savant with encyclopedic knowledge and memory of places all around the galaxy; Benedick Benedict, who upon shaking hands with another person, becomes privy to all that person’s most shameful secrets, which he proceeds to gossip about—and his talents extend to inanimate objects and animals; Lynx Links, who “looked like a beachball with a beard” but by calling is the galaxy’s most accomplished assassin; and (former) Captain Victor Corgo, “the man without a heart” (literally, replaced by a machine), formerly “a terror to brigands and ugly aliens, a threat to Code-breakers, and a thorn in the sides of evil-doers everywhere,” but now gone wrong.

The first three of these are the Furies, so-called by the author after the ancient Greeks’ “chthonic goddesses of vengeance” (says the Britannica), here retained by the authorities to chase down Corgo, a sort of Captain Nemo figure who has turned against humanity based on outrages we need not recount.  The story is rendered throughout in extravagant language and stylized dialogue.  A mid-range sample of the former:

“One time the Wallaby [Corgo’s spaceship] was a proud Guardship, an ebony toadstool studded with the jewel-like warts of fast-phase projectors.  One time the Wallaby skipped proud about the frontier worlds of Interstel, meting out the unique justice of the Uniform Galactic Code—in those places where there was no other law.  One time the proud Wallaby, under the command of Captain Victor Corgo of the Guard, had ranged deep space and time and become a legend under legendary skies.”

So what we have here is midway between a technical exercise and a barroom bet.  Zelazny has taken about the most hackneyed materials available and tried to render them publishable by pure force of his considerable writing skill, no doubt enhanced by his theatrical background, and he has succeeded.  That is, he has dazzled enough rubes to get this into print, and has considerably amused me.  If the young Shakespeare had started out in comic books (the names and talents of the Furies certainly suggest comic-book superheroes), the result might have been similar.  Four stars, but watch it, guy: you can’t get away with this more than once.  Or can you?

The Walking Talking I-Don't-Care Man, by David R. Bunch

As for Bunch (and speaking of extravagant language) the latest Moderan tale The Walking Talking I-Don’t-Care Man is made of that, though it’s more straightforward and lucid than some of its predecessors.  The titular Man has had himself entirely replaced with metal, unlike Bunch’s protagonist in his Stronghold who still hangs on to his flesh-strips.  The Man purports to have resolved the great philosophical dilemma of human existence by giving up humanity . . . but he still wouldn’t mind finding God and going after it with his sledge hammers. 

One could conclude that this meditation, or harangue, on last things might be the end of the Moderan series . . . except the point seems to be that last things really aren’t last.  But hey, four stars, at least in the spirit of “best of breed,” which I’d say this is for Bunch.  Note to future bibliographers: the commas in the title on the cover do not appear inside the magazine.

Rumpelstiltskinski, by Robert F. Young

And now comes the inexorable reckoning: Robert F. Young, square athwart the road, and no shoulder to slip by on.  First the bad news: Rumplestiltskinski is another of Young’s affected fairy tale rehashes, beginning “Once there was a miller who was car-poor but who had a luscious dish of a daughter named Ada.” The good news: it’s quite short and ostentatiously pointless, a sort of shaggy fairy story, perhaps signifying that Young is getting tired of himself.  Let me encourage him in that.  One star.

Satyr, by Judith E. Schrier

Finally, and almost imperceptibly, we have Satyr, a (very) short story by Judith E. Schrier.  Who?  Precisely—no one else has heard of her either, at least according to the available indexes.  An unmarried older woman works the night shift as a computer operator and the computer professes its love, she realizes how masculine it is, etc. etc. to the obvious end. Slickly written, at least.  Two stars, barely.

Lo! The Poor Forteans, by Sam Moskowitz

Sam Moskowitz plays out his season (rumor having it that he won’t be part of the new Amazing) with Lo! The Poor Forteans, a moderately interesting biographical sketch of Charles Fort and history of the Fortean movement, such as it is or was.  There is also some rambling and mostly perfunctory discussion of the Fortean influence in science fiction, much of which we know about because the authors (like Edmond Hamiliton and Eric Frank Russell) have commented on it, but much of which is questionable (The Children’s Hour by Lawrence O’Donnell a/k/a C.L. Moore?  I doubt it).  Moskowitz has also omitted some other fairly obvious candidates like Heinlein’s The Puppet Masters.  Moskowitz also tediously belabors his own disdain for Forteanism.  But still, three stars, chiefly for the history and not the commentary.

Summing Up

The Ziff-Davis Amazing under Lalli was always full of promise but never managed to deliver on it for more than a month or two at a time.  It winds down on a respectable note, with above-average stories from two of its most characteristic authors, plus a competent middle-of-the-road serial.  Quo nunc vadis Amazing?

Speaking of changed circumstances at publishing houses, please read this — it's important!




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Science / Space Race

[May 10, 1965] A Language for the Masses (Talking to a Machine, Part Three)

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This is part three of our series on programming in the modern computer age.  Last time, we discussed the rise of user-oriented languages.  We now report on the latest of them and why it's so exciting.


by Gideon Marcus

Revolution in Mathematics

The year was 1793, and the new Republic of France was keen to carry its revolution to the standardization of weights and measures.  The Bureau du cadastre (surveying) had been tasked to construct the most accurate tables of logarithms ever produced, based on the recently developed, more convenient decimal division of the angles.  Baron Gaspard Clair François Marie Riche de Prony was given the job of computing the natural logarithm of all integers from 1 to 200,000 — to more than 14 places of accuracy!

Recognizing that there were not enough mathematicians in all of France to complete this project in a reasonable amount of time, he turned to another revolutionary concept: the assembly line.  Borrowing inspiration from the innovation as described in Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations, he divided the task into three tiers.  At the top level were the 5-6 of the most brilliant math wizards, including Adrien-Marie Legendre.  They selected the best formulas for computation of logarithms.  These formulas were then passed on to eight numerical analysts expert in calculus, who developed procedures for computation as well as error-check computations.  In today's parlance, those top mathematicians would be called "systems analysts" and the second tier folks would be "programmers."

Of course, back then, there were no digital machines to program.  Instead, de Prony assembled nearly a hundred (and perhaps more) human "computers." These men were not mathematicians; indeed, the only operations they had to conduct were addition and subtraction!  Thanks to this distributed labor system, the work was completed in just two years.

The Coming Revolution

These days, thanks to companies like IBM, Rand, and CDC, digital computers have become commonplace — more than 10,000 are currently in use!  While these machines have replaced de Prony's human calculators, they have created their own manpower shortage.  With computation so cheap and quick, and application of these computations so legion, the bottleneck is now in programmers.  What good does it do to have a hundred thousand computers in the world (a number being casually bandied about for near future years like 1972) if they sit idle with no one to feed them code?

As I showed in the first article of this series, communication between human and the first computers required rarefied skills and training.  For this reason, the first English-like programming languages were invented; they make coding more accessible and easier to learn. 

But developing programs in FORTRAN or COBOL or ALGOL is still challenging.  Each of these languages is specialized for their particular function: FORTRAN, ALGOL, and LISP are for mathematical formulas, COBOL for business and record keeping.  Moreover, all of these "higher-level" programming languages require an assembly program, a program that turns the relatively readable stuff produced by the programmer into the 1s and 0s a computer can understand.  It's an extra bit of work every time, and every code error that stalls the compiler is a wasted chunk of precious computer time.

By the early 1960s, there were folks working on both of these problems — the solution combined answers to both.

BASICally

In 1963 Dartmouth Professor John Kemeny got a grant from the National Science Foundation to implement a time-sharing system on a GE-225 computer.  Time-sharing, if you recall from Ida Moya's article last year, allows multiple users to access a computer at the same time, the machine running multiple processes simultaneously.


Photo Credit: Dartmouth College

Kemeny and his team, including Professor Thomas Kurtz and several undergrads, succeeded in completing the time-share project.  Moreover, in the interest of making computing available to everyone, they also developed a brand-new programming language. 

Beginner's All-purpose Symbolic Instruction Code, or BASIC, was the first language written specifically for novices.  In many ways, it feels similar to FORTRAN.  Here's an example of the "add two numbers" program I showed you last time:

5 PRINT "ADD TWO NUMBERS"
6 PRINT
10 READ A, B
20 LET C=A+B
30 PRINT "THE ANSWER IS", C
50 PRINT "ANOTHER? (1 FOR YES, 2 FOR NO)"
60 READ D
70 IF D = 1 THEN 6
80 IF D = 2 THEN 90
90 PRINT
100 PRINT "THANKS FOR ADDING!"
9999 END

Pretty easy to read, isn't it?

You might notice is that there's no initial declaration of variables.  You can code blithely along, and if you discover you need another variable (as I did at line 60), just go ahead and use one!  This can lead to sloppy structure, but again, the priority is ease of use without too many formal constraints. 

Indeed, there's really not much to the language — the documentation for BASIC comprises 23 pages, including sample programs.

So let me tell you the real earth-shaking thing about BASIC: the compiler is built in. 

On the Fly

Let's imagine that you are a student at Stuffy University.  Before time-sharing, if you wanted to run a program on the computer, you'd have to write the thing on paper, then punch it into cards using an off-line cardpunch, then humbly submit the cards to one of the gnomes tending the Big Machine.  He would load the FORTRAN (or whatever language) compiler into the Machine's memory.  Then he'd run your cards through the Machine's reader.  Assuming the compiler didn't choke, you might get a print-out of the program's results later that day or the next.

Now imagine that, through time-sharing, you have a terminal (a typewriter with a TV screen or printer) directly attached to the Machine.  That's a revolution in and of itself because it means you can type your code directly into a computer file.  Then you can type the commands to run the compiler program on your code, turning it into something the Machine can understand (provided the compiler doesn't choke on your bad code).

But what if, instead of that two-step process, you could enter code into a real-time compiler, one that can interpret as you code?  Then you could test individual statements, blocks of code, whole programs, without ever leaving the coding environment.  That's the revolution of BASIC.  The computer is always poised and ready to RUN the program without your having to save the code into a separate file and run a compiler on it. 


Kemeny watches his daughter, Jennifer, program — not having to bother with a compiler is particularly nice when you haven't got a screen!  Photo Credit: Dartmouth College

Moreover, you don't need to worry about arcane commands telling the program where to display output or where to find input (those numbers after every READ and WRITE command in FORTRAN.  It's all been preconfigured into the program language environment.

To be sure, making the computer keep all of these details in mind results in slower performance, but given the increased speed of machines these days and the relatively undemanding nature of BASIC programs, this is not too important. 

For the People

The goal of BASIC is to change the paradigm of computing.  If Kemeny has his way, programming will no longer be the exclusive province of the lab-coated corporate elites nor the young kooks at MIT who put together SPACEWARS!, the first computer game.  The folks at Dartmouth are trying to socialize computing, to introduce programming to people in all walks of life in anticipation of the day that there are 100,000 (or a million or a billion) computers available for use.

Vive la révolution!


Photo Credit: Dartmouth College

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction