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TV

[March 10, 1963] The Twilight Zone, Season 4, Episodes 5-8

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[We have a special treat for you, today. One of the Journey's long-time followers has prepared a review of the latest episodes of The Twilight Zone. Natalie describes herself as having "devoted her life to finding the best and the worst popular culture has to offer. Areas of expertise include music, movies and television." I hope you enjoy her words as much as I did…and perhaps we can convince her to return?]


by Natalie Devitt

As you know by now, The Twilight Zone is no longer the most consistently good show. Episodes have been varying dramatically in terms of quality. The longer episodes this season have not helped matters. Some episodes seem padded to add time to stretch to the full hour, while others would probably work better as feature length films. That was certainly the case with some of the episodes this past month, but the episodes were not without moments of brilliance.

Mute, by Richard Matheson

Mute is the story of a young girl named Ilse, who is used as a test subject by her parents. Her parents are members of an organization that studies telepathy. Even though Ilse is perfectly capable of learning how to speak, as part of a deal with other members of the organization, her parents raise her to communicate using only telepathy and document the results for other members of their organization.

Sadly, her parents never seem to consider what would happen to Ilse if they were no longer able to care for her. So, when the family’s home suddenly burns down one night, killing both of her mother and her father, Ilse is left without the means to communicate with those around her. Luckily, the local sheriff and his wife offer her a place to stay, while they try to contact her next of kin. In the meantime, they enroll her in school, assuming that the school would teach her everything thing she needs to know in order to assimilate.

I hate to admit that after last season’s Little Girl Lost, I expected a higher caliber of work from screenwriter Richard Matheson. This episode does not seem to work as an hour long story. What could be an interesting episode about the pressure to conform or adults not always knowing what is best for children, turns into an episode that fails to leave any lasting impression.

That said, Ann Jullian, who you may remember in Babes in Toyland and Gypsy, does a fine job as Ilse. In addition, the camera work with its frequent tilts and pans, effectively conveys Ilse’s feelings of being disoriented as she transitions from having lived in silence to being thrown into a world of filled sound. The episode deserves two and a half stars.

Death Ship, by Richard Matheson

This episode gives a glimpse into the future. In the year 1997, Earth is overpopulated, so humans are in need of a new planet to colonize. A crew aboard a spaceship set out on an expedition in hopes of finding one. Once they finally land on a planet that they think has potential, they find a spaceship that bears a striking resemblance to their own. After assessing the situation, they enter the spaceship only to find a crew that looks just like them — except for one thing, the men in the spaceship are dead. The living crew struggle to find an explanation for how the ship and their deceased doppelgangers ended up on the planet, and how they can avoid meeting a similar fate.

This episode stars Jack Klugman and Ross Martin, and is a pretty consistently good episode. It can be at times fairly predictable. My biggest complaint is that a number of the sets have clearly been reused in order to cut costs. Even though the episode did not offer anything new visually, I still give it three stars.

Jess-Bell, by Earl Hammer Jr.

There is something special about Jess-Belle, a tale of obsession that aired just in time for Valentine’s Day. This episode takes place in the not too distant past of the Appalachian Mountains. The title character in the episode is played by an unrecognizable Anne Francis, best known for her work as Altaira in Forbidden Planet. This time the usually blonde actress is sporting a black wig and playing a desperate young woman, who enlists the help of a local witch, referred to as Granny Hart, to win back a former lover by the name of Billy Ben. Billy Ben is played by Western regular James Best. Not surprisingly, trouble ensues.

Anytime a blonde actress wears a dark wig and flirts with the dark side, you know what you are watching is bound to be entertaining, even if it is not in the way originally intended. To its credit, though, Jess-Belle manages to be very effective with its strong performances and haunting atmosphere, despite most of its characters being hillbilly stereotypes. I could not get this episode out of my head for days, so for that reason I give it four stars.

Miniature, by Charles Beaumont

This episode is about a character named Charley, who is played brilliantly by Robert Duvall. He is in his thirties and still lives at home with his controlling mother. He struggles to hold down a job or find a mate.

One day on a trip to the museum he finds the excitement he craves in the most unlikely of places, inside a dollhouse. The only problem is that nobody else seems to realize that a beautiful doll in the museum dollhouse is alive. Most of the story revolves around his overbearing mother and well-meaning sister trying to help him meet all of the markers of an ordinary adult life. The more his family members try to help him out of his state of arrested development, the more Charley escapes into fantasies of a love affair with the doll.

The years Robert Duvall spent honing his acting skills in the theatre world have finally paid off, because I cannot praise him enough for his work in this episode. Sometimes when actors transition from theater to television, they can be overly dramatic, because they are used to playing to the back of the house. That is certainly not the case with Robert Duvall‘s subtle performance in Miniature.

Charley, if played by a less skilled actor could seem pathetic, because he is almost unbelievably passive at work and at home. Also, his imaginary relationship with the doll could have come across as being creepy in the wrong hands. Robert’s approach to the character, makes the episode incredibly touching, even to viewers who may not relate to Charley. The acting alone earns the episode a solid three stars.

The most recent episodes certainly had their flaws, but I still found them enjoyable to watch. I am curious to see what the rest of the season has to offer.




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Fashion, music, politics, sports, Magazine

[March 8, 1963] Pan-Galactic Union? (April 1963 Galaxy)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Gideon Marcus

Seven years ago, Egypt's Gamal Nasser, ascendant member of the junta that deposed the constitutional monarchy in '52, ululated his way across the Sinai tilting at the Israeli windmill.  At stake was more than the nationalization of the Suez Canal or the subjugation of the Jewish State.  Nasser's dream has always been a Pan-Arab Union, bringing the Arabs of North Africa and the Middle East under one flag (preferably his), and though Egypt's sword was blunted in that Arab-Israeli war, nevertheless, it was a rallying cry to achieve his dream.

The closest Nasser got was in 1958, when he bound his country and Syria in the hopefully titled "United Arab Republic." There were high hopes that Iraq would also join in.  But the 1961 coup in Syria reduced the U.A.R. to the boundaries of the nation formerly known as Egypt. 

Nevertheless, the dream lives on and may yet achieve reality.  Egypt backed a coup in Yemen in 1962.  Then, there was the recent Ba'athist coup in Iraq, rumored to have been assisted covertly by the United States.  A similar event is underway as we speak in Syria (Egypt and Yemen have already voiced their full support).  The Iraqi government is now talking about joining the U.A.R.  And so, the Arab Union that features so prominently in Mack Reynold's "Black Africa" series may soon come to fruition.

I can't help but wonder if science fiction writer and editor Fred Pohl is taking a page from Nasser's book.  As of last month, Pohl now helms three science fiction magazines, Galaxy, IF, and Worlds of Tomorrow, an empire of pages rivaled only by the twin magazines, Fantastic and Amazing, under the dominion of editor Cele Goldsmith.  Will an SF Cold War break out?  Perhaps a Personal Union like what happened under James I/VI of Great Britain?  Either way, the fallout of Pohl's ambitions, unlike those of the Egyptian leader, can only be for the good of humanity.  One need only look at the most recent issue of Galaxy for proof.

The Visitor at the Zoo, by Damon Knight

The first half of the magazine is taken up with a single novella set in the early 21st Century.  A sentient alien from Brecht's World, a spiky biped, is brought to the Berlin Zoo to mate with another of its race.  But when the creature swaps bodies with a young journalist, both of the resulting entities must learn to make the best of their situation.

Author Damon Knight has recently spent much more time editing, critiquing, and translating works from French authors than producing his own work.  Visitor marks his first original story in quite a while.  Knight manages to give the work just a trace of awkwardness, capturing the feel of a translated piece.  At first, it reads like a farce, some Teutonic trifle from the pen of a decent German talent.  But Visitor is really a story about what it means to be human, the indignity (and arbitrariness) of being designated a sub-human, and the general indifference of most people to these issues.  Effective satire and enjoyable (most of the time — some bits are hard to take) reading.  Four stars.

The Lonely Man, by Theodore L. Thomas

Is the value of a colony its ability produce goods that can't be made at home?  Or is the act of colonization itself a worthy pursuit?  Thomas draws a fine portrait of a reticent genius, an engineer whose mind is a wellspring of inventions that require other worlds as sites of manufacture.  But said engineer's motivation is extraterrestrial sojourn — the benefit to humanity is secondary.  Four stars for this well-drawn piece.

My Lady Selene, by Magnus Ludens

Back in 1957, Isaac Asimov wrote a story about the Moon, and what mysteries might be dispelled once we got there.  The Good Doctor's take on it was strictly for laughs, and since the flight of Luna 3, also outdated. 

Ludens' tale is a more serious but no less whimsical variation on the theme — what will we find when we get there?  Selene is a tale of the first human on the Moon, and how he does his level best to preserve the spirit of wonder associated with our planet's companion.  Nicely done, perhaps a tad overwrought.  Three stars.

For Your Information: The Great Siberian Space Craze, by Willy Ley

Galaxy's columnist (goodness — almost 13 years already!) has a good article on the Siberian Tunguska blast of 1908 and its likely origins.  It's an interesting look at science behind the Iron Curtain, and the first good explanation I've read as to why the object that decimated dozens of square miles of forest couldn't have been a spaceship.  Four stars.

On the Fourth Planet, by J. F. Bone

Veterinarian and veteran author Jesse Bone gives us this fascinating tale of the fateful first contact between the pseudopodian Martians and the metallic Terrans.  Plausible, thoughtful, even beautiful.  I won't spoil more (though Finlay's lovely art spoils plenty).  Five stars.

Voyage to Far N'jurd, by Kris Neville

Lastly, we have the latest from Kris Neville, a fellow who sometimes turns out good stuff, but more reliably turns out bad stuff.  N'jurd is in the latter category.  While the words Neville wrote are certainly in English, they are not strung together in a way that makes a coherent story — certainly not an enjoyable one.  Something about a colony ship and the traditions that grow after many generations of travel.  Maybe.  Again, it's ersatz English.  One star.

Despite the disappointing finish, this month's Galaxy was otherwise fine and quick reading.  And at half-again as large as any other magazine on the market, it makes a fine core for Pohl's burgeoning Empire of prose.  Lecturi te salutant!

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Book

[March 6, 1963] Generation Gap (Ace Double F-177)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the utmost…]


by Gideon Marcus

It was only a few years ago that Drs. Watson and Crick discovered DNA, that magical double-helix of protein molecules that are the blueprints for our genetics.  Now we know that our biology is coded, like so many punch cards, and that's why people are people, puppies are puppies, amebae are amebae.  An embryo with human DNA cannot grow up to be a horse.  A bear-coded blastula won't transform in utero into a giraffe.

There is a coding that runs almost as deeply as that in our chromosomes.  It derives from the society in which we are raised and the circumstances under which we grew.  Thus, a Dixiecrat is not wont to clamor for Civil Rights, and no one in my family is likely to abandon shul for Mass. 

Science fiction authors have their own genetic code.  While writers can be more flexible than politicians or religionists, they nevertheless tend to remain of a type, composing in a style forged early in their career by the prevailing trends and markets at the time. 

As evidence of this, I submit to you two short novels by a pair of authors whose output couldn't be more different despite appearing bound together within the pages of the recent Ace Double, #F-177. 

The Star Wasps, by Robert Moore Williams

The world of the 21st Century is a tidy, orderly place.  Free will is an illusion.  People live for their jobs and medicate for their moods.  Commerce and society hum along smoothly under the control of one Erasmus Glock, a shadowy figure whose hold on the strings of power is absolute. 

There is a fly in the ointment, however — John Derek is a man who would set society free.  With his base on the Moon, a cadre of die-hard loyalists, and his little glass spheres that instill a yearning for freedom, he is poised to lead a revolution.

Unfortunately, the ointment also has a wasp in the form of an invasion of interstellar killers called "the viral."  Incorporeal blue creatures, invisible to most humans, have been inadvertently teleported to our planet by the well-meaning scientist, Dr. Cotter.  These shimmering aurorae bring death to anyone they touch, and their numbers grow by the day.  This plague threatens both the stultifying profiteering of Glock and the freedom-fighting agenda of Derek.  Glock and Derek must work together, along with Cotter and Derek's new recruit, Jennie Fargo, to defeat the alien foe.

Robert Moore Williams was first published in the pre-Campbell days of Analog.  He has since written more than a hundred stories for a variety of magazines, but his DNA was baked in the Golden Age of science fiction.  The future world of The Star Wasps is an archaic, mechanistic one.  Society simplistically hinges on the activities of a half-dozen people.  There is a Resilient Woman Character whose primary role is to be the Love Interest.  After the intriguing set-up, Wasps degenerates into a figurative car chase, with people running around and pulling levers until the enemy is defeated.

Also, Williams writes like he's still getting a penny a word, writing in a redundant manner that only gets worse as the story drags.  Gems like:

As Jennie watched, with terror tightening the band around the bottom of her heart, the circle changed and became a ball of tiny dancing blue lights.

Under other circumstances, she would have thought the lights and the changing form and the color were beautiful. 

Now she knew they were death.

Was death beautiful?  Not to her.  She wanted life.

The Coelacanth fish, thought to be long-extinct until a specimen was hauled out of the Indian Ocean in 1938, is what's known as "a living fossil."  The Star Wasps is a similar relic from a time long passed.  I'd throw it back.  Two stars.

Warlord of Kor, by Terry Carr

The flip-side of F-177 is an entirely different matter.  Terry Carr is a new writer, as well as a Big Name in the fan community.  He is one of a new wave of authors steeped in the more nuanced works of the Digest Era of science fiction that began in 1949. 

Kor is set on a dusty world at the edge of Terran settlement, the site of humanity's first encounter with living sentient aliens.  The Hirlaji are a dying race of telepathic saurians, their once burgeoning culture reduced to a mere handful of aged specimens due to an unknown catalytic event thousands of years prior. 

Lee Rynason is the archaeologist tasked to discover the mystery of this societal sea change.  Why did the shift happen so abruptly?  Why is Horng, possessor of the Hirlaji's race memory, so reluctant to divulge this secret? 

Rynason's efforts are hampered by the ambitions of his superior, Rice Manning.  Manning has designs on the governorship of the planet and is willing to scapegoat the Hirlaji as a threat to do so — especially when it appears that the aged reptiles might somehow be related to The Outsiders, a long-vanished alien civilization that left its traces throughout the galaxy. 

Sketched in thumbnail, I suppose the plot of Warlord of Kor doesn't sound much better than that of The Star Wasps.  The lurid title doesn't help either (Ace loves its lurid titles).  But Kor is no pulpy tale.  It is the sensitive story of first contact, of discovery, of racial understanding, and of morality — of a piece with Bone's The Lani People and Piper's Little Fuzzy in illustrating the worth and importance of other, different cultures.

Plus, the characters are beautifully drawn with a spare efficiency that Williams would have done well to emulate.  In 97 pages, we learn far more about Rynason and Manning, as well as the other pivotal characters — the quietly strong colony quartermaster Mara Stephens, and the cynical heretic Rene Malhomme — than we do about William's characters in 126 pages.  It doesn't hurt that Kor has a very satisfying ending. 

If there's any drawback to Kor, it's that Rynason and Stephens seem a little slow on the uptake.  I was always a step or two ahead of them in solving the mystery, even when they had access to the same clues as the reader.  That's a small quibble, though.  Warlord of Kor is an excellent, quick read, and it's worth the 40 cent book price all by itself.  Four stars.

Speaking of collections of old and new, this month's Galaxy is a collection of stories by veterans and novices alike.  Come see how this amalgam of generations fares in the Journey's next article.  Stay tuned!

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Comics

[March 4, 1963] Smart and Scientific (March 1963 National Comics Roundup)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Jason Sacks

I like and admire the work of our dear friend, the Traveler. His insights into science fiction are outstanding (he’s turned me on to some of my favorite writers, including the delightful Keith Laumer) and his passions are infectious.

But last month, dear Mr. Marcus published an article so dunderheaded, so wrong in its conclusions, that it read like an essay by Dobie Gillis rather than from a mature and well-read adult. I’m astounded Mr. Marcus actually professed that the output of mediocre Marvel Comics was “compelling”, “on the crest of a wave”, and reaching a “fever pitch.”

Yes, these comics induce a fever, but to me it’s a fever much like the onset of polio.

With rare exceptions, I’ve always found Marvel Comics to be poorly drawn and poorly plotted, lacking the discipline of good science fiction and frequently breaking the most important rule of good science fiction; namely, getting the science right. Marvel insults their readers’ intelligence continually, especially in their origin stories. Having origin stories based on such amorphous, deus ex machina ideas as cosmic rays, gamma bombs, and the pièce de résistance, a radioactive spider, Marvel (particularly head writer Stan Lee) present a world in which science is treated as a trump card overriding all rationality. Beyond that, the art in Marvel Comics is clumsy and amateurish compared to the work appearing in both DC and Archie Adventure titles. That awkwardness is no surprise because Jack Kirby illustrates many of those titles. Kirby’s rough and tumble style may have worked in the 1940s and ‘50s, but he’s clearly behind the times in the ‘60s. He’s lucky to have found work at one of the worst publishing houses in America. It’s hard to imagine that style having much influence on future generations of comic fans, unless he tamps down the grandiosity and operatic emotions he portrays.

Characters like the bickering Fantastic Four, the brutish Hulk and the neurotic Spiderman are no heroes, not in the sense of the great men we look up to on television and the movies. They are not role models, men about whom to be inspired. Instead they are insipid antiheroic leads, out of touch with the mood of the 1960s. That may appeal to the Beats and poets, but Alan Ginsburg ain’t reading comic books.

Marcus can champion these characters all he likes, but mark my words, by 1969, Marvel Comics will be a mere footnote in comics history while the great heroes at National Comics thrive.

As I mentioned in my last essay for this journal, the costumed characters edited by Julius Schwartz at National embody all that is right and true about valor in American comic books. In Green Lantern, The Flash and the delightful “Adam Strange” in Mystery in Space, Schwartz and his team combine true heroism with real facts, giving Stan Lee and his staff of amateurs a lesson in professionalism, science and bravery.

Take the March's Flash, issue #135, as an example. The story in this issue is a disciplined, scientifically-based yarn in which The Flash and Kid Flash beat back an invasion from Korydon, “the sixteenth dimension of the cosmos.” The exciting tale begins with Kid Flash hearing a message from a beautiful (and stylishly coiffed) woman from another planet because his cellular frequency is set to her wavelength. The woman reports that her enemies have selected Earth as their next invasion location. Thankfully she is able to intercept Kid Flash and send this message. Even more thankfully, the Science Institute calls on The Flash to track down the mystery behind several strange weapons sent to Earth as part of the invasion.

What follows as part of the generous 26-page action tale is a delightful hodgepodge of science, story and super fun. We witness the power of mind over matter transforming Kid Flash’s costume, watch a super-scanner work like a color TV into another dimension (I wish I could persuade my parents to buy a color TV, whether or not it sees into another dimension!), and watch a revolution overthrow the warriors for another dimension.

Every month, editor Schwartz and artist Infantino join with their uncredited writer (or writers) to deliver stories that could come directly from the pulps, thrilling tales that tempt with action and delight with scientific fact – as in the editor’s note that mentions that “even paper can penetrate an oak tree if driven fast enough by a tornado!” Their heroes are steadfast and emotionally strong. They don’t bicker. They do what is necessary to win their wars.

Best of all, unlike the rough and tumble Jack Kirby style, “Secret of the Three Super Weapons” contains gorgeous clean line art by an artist I recognize as Carmine Infantino. Unlike Kirby’s rough designs, Infantino delivers sleek and smooth depictions of his characters. The Flash and his protégé are not muscle-bound monsters. Instead they are slick speedsters whose lean bodies carry them at superhuman speeds.

Mr. Infantino also delivers the lead “Adam Strange” story in Mystery in Space #82 (also the March issue) and again Mr. Infantino delivers his distinctively impeccable artwork to this take of a terrifying space threat that could destroy both Strange’s home planet Earth and his adoptive planet Rann.

In fact, “World War on Earth and Rann” opens with a scene that could come from those ugly creators at Marvel Comics and shows the difference between the two companies. Natives of backwards city-states of Rann are protesting Adam Strange’s presence on their planet, claiming that threats only began when he landed on their planet. Though these scenes are reminiscent of ugly moments in Marvel’s frightfully frustrating Fantastic Four series, this scene comes across as an elegant bit of real-world charm. Adam’s beautiful and beloved Alanna quickly tells Adam to move on from the complaint, so the couple can spend a romantic week together.

And so they do. After a ceremonial event, in which Adam is gifted a radiation detector, we get a tour of Rann, from its beautiful landscapes to a wonderful hunt to an amazing lunch in the ice caves of a tropical region of the planet. These sorts of charming travelogues would never appear in a Marvel Comic. They’re a delightful moment of characterization and world-building that allow the reader to breathe before the action starts in earnest.

That action starts during the lunch, as the ice caves become under threat from a giant flying lens. We witness Adam and Alanna flying and fighting the lens as equal partners (no sad wimpy Invisible Girl is she!) but Adam’s Zeta beam fires and he is returned to Earth. It’s an elegant transition to the threats Earth receives as a parallel threat is happening on our planet.

The tale flows in high action and dudgeon from there, with scenes of future fighter jets, visions of nuclear annihilation, and pneumatic technology fueling a human detective story. In a very satisfying ending, the villain of the piece is revealed not to be some craven, strange-costumed adversary but a scientist gone wrong. There’s a parable in the noble scientist driven mad by the destructive power he controls, and Infantino, Schwartz and the writer all display that story nobly. In the end, the citizens of Rann are proven wrong by the greatest power of all: the power of heroism.

In just 15 pages, readers receive an epic tale that spans two planets and multiple cities. The aliens are much more credible than those Stan Lee creates in his ridiculous tales, and science is always at the heart of these science fiction tales. In fact, science is so much at the heart of this comic book that readers also receive a one-page bonus “Giants of the Telescope” feature describing the incalculable impact William P. Rosse had upon the scientific world. Who says kids don’t want to learn as they read their comics?

For my final example of the superiority of National’s offerings I give you “The Defeat of Green Lantern” from March's Green Lantern #19. Again edited by the superior Schwartz, with art as always by Gil Kane, this tale again combines scientific knowledge with superior storytelling to deliver a tale Stan Lee’s cohorts can only dream of.

As happens so often with Schwartz-led tales, the core of the story lies with science. On the first story page, we witness an ally of Earth’s Green Lantern try to inform his colleague about a cosmo-storm that can increase “sunspot activity, atmospheric lights and odd magnetic disturbances.” As any faithful “Galactic Journey” reader (and anyone who passed a freshman high school science class) would know, these events are much more realistic than vague “cosmic rays” as a means for creating problems in the universe. It also is logical, as the writer depicts, that those disturbances should also cause problems with Green Lantern’s amazing ring.

The story centers around the craven villain Sonar, who has the nucleo-sonic ability to draw energy from sound and use that sound in a solidified manner. Sonar uses this amazing ability to try to bring recognition to his tiny European homeland. Brilliantly Schwartz and team give credibility to Sonar’s megalomania in a richer and more thoughtful way than Lee and Kirby do for the shallow Doctor Doom. (They also choose a much better name for their villain, but, again, what do you expect?) Of course, Lantern is able to defeat Sonar because his strong instincts make him realize his ring is acting strangely. Green Lantern’s heroic abilities win out over the shallow craven villainy of Sonar.

Mr. Marcus, you’re a smart man. That’s why I’m shocked and saddened by your professed ardor for some of the worst comics out there. You’d be better off reading the schlock of Archie Comics than the antiheroic, unscientific junk of Marvel Comics. On the other hand, maybe you should enjoy the adventures of the unfortunately named Spiderman as long as you can. Nobody will want to read the threadbare adventures Lee & co. are delivering. It will only be a short time till the name of the Fantastic Four reaches the dustbin of long-forgotten champions.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Magazine

[March 2, 1963] Bucking the System (March 1963 Analog)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Gideon Marcus

February has been a busy month for the Journey in terms of fanac (Fan Activity for you normal folks), including a presentation at the Mysterious Galaxy bookstore in San Diego and a panel at a small Los Angeles convention last weekend.  And the pace hasn't slackened: tonight, I'll be giving a talk on the Space Race at, of all places, a space-themed pub.  (And if I met you at the event, be sure to drop me a line.  I love meeting folks from all eras…)

This month's Analog Science Fiction, that great faded lady of the genre, has also been lively.  Not only has it recently grown from digest to slick-sized (so as to take shelf space next to other respectable mags like Time and Scientific American), but it features a host of stories whose common theme seems to be rebellion against a stultifying system. 

So let's check out the March 1963 Analog, shall we?

Natural Resources in Space, by John W. Campbell, Jr.

Apparently Editor Campbell couldn't find anyone to write a science article for him this month…or nothing he got met his exacting standards (i.e. didn't involve quack science like psychics, dowsing, or reactionless drives).  On the other hand, what we got in the way of nonfiction this month is a pleasantly crunchy piece on the location and accessibility of valuable materials in the solar system — from the iron of the asteroids to the helium of the gas giants.  Now we just need to get there!  Three stars.

Frigid Fracas (Part 1 of 2), by Mack Reynolds

Joe Mauser, Mercenary supreme, is back.  Last time we saw him, he was wending his way up through the rigid caste system of 21st Century "Industrial Feudalism," his only opportunity for social climbing being to fight in live-fire corporate disputes.  These "fracases," broadcast on Telly to a largely unemployed, tranquilized populace, are a modern-day Bread and Circuses.  And they're tightly regulated.  No weapons beyond those available in 1900 are allowed; this produces just enough slaughter to entertain, but the weapons pose no threat to a civilized, otherwise peaceful world. 

This time around, the ambitious Major stakes everything on a repeat of his last performance, flying an unmotored sailplane on a reconnaissance patrol.  But this time, he goes armed with a machine gun…because the opposing team has also discovered the benefits of taking the high ground.  Though this is just Part 1 of a two-parter, and despite featuring a fair bit of exposition, this installment makes a decent stand-alone story — and the world Reynold paints is vivid, if not particularly plausible.  Four stars.

All Day Wednesday, by Richard Olin

Ernie, a working stiff in a union factory, dreams of the day when he can finally stop worrying about it all.  That day will never come, because the day he's in won't ever end.  It's a weird, Twilight Zoney piece that doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's nicely rendered.  Three stars.

The Happy Man, by Gerald W. Page

Centuries from now, humanity has left for the stars, leaving behind the placid stay-behinds, content to spend their time in suspended animation, dreaming their own private Heavens.  But one fellow won't accept an artificial paradise and becomes a rebel, raiding the remaining settlements for food and other plunder.  To each their own poison, right?  A decent tale with a surprising ending.  Three stars.

Not in the Literature, by Christopher Anvil

Chris Anvil is an Analog perennial whose work tends toward the satirical.  When he publishes elsewhere, his work can be quite good, but when he writes for Campbell, it tends to take on a self-satisfied tone.  Literature is one of his better efforts in Analog, about an alternate timeline (or another planet) where the history of science differs from our own.  They have experimental rocketships, airships, advanced metallurgy and chemistry, yet no conception of electricity.  When a failed chemist offers a wild plan to conduct heat down a wire (Dig it — current flows!), he is met with derision and dismissal.  Cute, and my nephew, David, liked it.  Three stars.

Spanner in the Works, by J. T. McIntosh

Finally, we have a Spy vs. Spy tale…except the other Spy is not only supposed to be a good guy, it's not a guy at all!  Rather, a capable counter espionage agent must discover why the Bureau's hotshot computer has suddenly started giving useless advice.  A pleasant potboiler, although it's very much in the "Problem; Solution," category of stories, sort of the SF equivalent of the locked room mystery.  Good stuff…for the early 1950s.  Three stars.

This being the end of the month, it's time to see how the monthly sci-fi magazines fared in comparison with each other.  This time around, we had seven, more than the Journey has ever reviewed at a time.  Thank goodness we have the writers to cover it (ten at last count…) If you added up all the four and five-star stories, the stuff worth reading, you'd have enough to fill two whole magazines.  That's pretty good.  Only three out of forty eight stories were by women, continuing the dismal trend of the last several months.  That's not so good.

For you baseball fans, here are the actual numbers: IF secured the top spot with 3.3 stars, followed by Analog (3.2), Worlds of Tomorrow (3), Fantasy and Science Fiction (just 2.7, but featuring the month's best story), Fantastic (2.7), New Worlds (2.6), and finally, Amazing (2.3).  But all of them have something to recommend them, regardless of the score.

Be sure to stay tuned.  Next up, Jason Sacks is back with a look at National Comics…because you knew he couldn't let my recent praise of Marvel go unanswered.  See you then!

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Magazine

[February 27, 1963] Keep On Going: (New Worlds, March 1963)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Mark Yon

I was hoping to report better things about the British weather this month. But no – we’re still in what seems like the middle of a deep freeze period. Earlier this month there was a blizzard that covered most of the country for over 36 hours. The weather has been so bad that, unusually, professional football matches (soccer matches to you US readers) have been postponed – more than once in some cases:

The sea’s even been frozen in places:

I’ve never known anything like it in my lifetime, but here’s hoping that by the time I write next month things will be back to some sort of normal.

To New Worlds, then.

Fallacies in Science Fiction, by Mr. Donald Malcolm

The Guest Editorial this month (yes – another one!) is by an author who has been here a lot lately. Although limited in experience, Mr. Malcolm takes advantage of this opportunity to explain things as he sees it. The Editorial is both a celebration and a critique of s-f, claiming on one hand that its imaginative concepts satisfy the needs beyond those of mundane readers and then counterarguing that this is the reason for s-f unlikely to become mainstream popular. The ongoing argument continues.

To the stories. There’s a general theme of aliens and alien planets this month.

Inductive Reaction, by Mr. Russ Markham

This is an “alien anthropology” story in the ongoing series featuring the Hunters and the Laings of the Galactic Union Special Survey Teams. This time the couples go to Oris IV, a Venusian jungle planet, where they have to solve a puzzle: why do the planet natives, seemingly peaceful and obsequiously eager to please, suddenly attack expeditionary members without warning? It’s a logical, if rather uninspiring solution, surrounded by clichés such as the point that the good wives should stay at home whilst the men do the dangerous work. Not one of Mr. Markham’s best, I feel. Two out of five.

Aqueduct, by Mr. Francis G. Rayer

Mr. Rayer’s tale of Mankind’s attempt to subjugate an alien species on a waterless planet made me think of modern day construction schemes in countries like Egypt. It’s another one-idea type of story, but I enjoyed it as much as Mr. Rayer’s last, Capsid. Three out of five.

Eviction, by Mr. John Baxter

Written by someone from an ex-British colony, there’s more than a little nod and a wink towards colonialism in this likeable story about when aliens come back to Earth to reclaim their territory. It starts really well, even if the conclusion is a little too convenient. Three out of five points.

Bottomless Pit, by Mr. Philip E. High

I was rather dismissive of Mr. High’s last story in New Worlds, but this one was a slight return to form. A story of planetary invasion with a unique planetary defence mechanism. It’s logical and solid, if a little jarring in its depiction of alien attraction. One of the more enjoyable stories in this issue. Three out of five.

Too Good to be True, by Mr Walter Gillings

A short but welcome return to fiction by one of New Worlds’s founding editors, Too Good to be True is a lighter story composed of letters sent to an imaginary magazine editor by an author who may be more authentic than the Editor requires. Slightly entertaining. Three out of five.

Dawn’s Left Hand, by Mr Lan Wright

And lastly, to the final part of this rather underwhelming serial. Things are tied up rather conveniently, albeit at the usual breakneck speed, which, of course, gives us little time to think about how improbable everything is. Our ‘hero’ Martin Regan, acting as gangster Manuel Cabera, gets past the previous difficulties to reach another plot point clearly meant to be a grand reveal. Unfortunately, the story ends up being depressingly predictable and increasingly illogical. I’m pleased that this serial has come to an end, but at least its limitations has shown me how much s-f has progressed in recent years. Still two out of five.

In summary, a more solid issue than the February issue, but I still feel that we’re treading water here. When New Worlds is at its best, there’s a variety of thoughtful and literate stories, all bringing something new to the table. More recently though, I can’t help feeling that there’s been a lot of filler, with tales that are limited in success. I hate to say it, but reading issues is becoming a bit of a struggle.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Magazine

[February 24, 1963] Something Old, Something New (March 1963 Fantastic)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


by Victoria Silverwolf

The pace at which innovations are arriving in these modern times is dizzying.  This month alone, a remarkable array of novel products appeared:

A new commercial aircraft, the Boeing 727, made its first flight.  It differs from the earlier 707 in having three jet engines rather than four.  Intended for short and medium-length flights, it can use shorter runways at smaller airports than the older model requires.

The Coca-Cola Company introduced Tab, a new diet soft drink, in competition with Royal Crown Cola's Diet Rite.  An IBM 1401 computer generated more than 185,000 four-letter words containing one vowel as possible names for the product.  The winning name, shortened from "tabb,"sometimes appears as "TaB," with the first and last letters capitalized.

The Feminine Mystique is a recently published book by Betty Friedan that may lead to a new women's movement, similar to the fight for voting rights in the early years of this century.  It challenges the idea that the most fulfilling roles for American women are as housewives and mothers.

While we welcome all these new things, we should also remember the old.  Telstar 1, which now seems like a part of history, although it launched only seven months ago, has ceased operating.  Radiation in the Van Allen belt destroyed its delicate circuitry.

Popular music also featured a mixture of old and new in recent weeks.  Earlier this month, Walk Right In by the Rooftop Singers reached the top of the charts.  Many listeners may not have realized that this catchy folk song is a remake of a tune first recorded by Cannon's Jug Stompers way back in 1929.  This revision of an old song yielded the Number One position later in the month to something brand new, Hey Paula, as sung by a duo calling themselves Paul & Paula.  In my opinion, this is a case where newer isn't better.

Fittingly, half the stories in the latest issue of Fantastic appear in print for the first time, while the other half date back to the previous century.

Physician to the Universe, by Clifford D. Simak

One of the biggest names in science fiction begins his most recent story in a mysterious fashion.  A man awakes in a dark place with little memory of his past.  Little by little, he remembers what happened to him.  This is a future world where robots enforce strict health regulations.  The man's crime is failing to take care of himself.  His punishment is exile to an island in the middle of a vast swamp.  With two fellow prisoners, he undertakes the long and dangerous journey across the wilderness to freedom.  Slowly, he recalls the extraordinary thing that happened to him as a child, and the important reason he must return to his home.  This is a complex story, told with multiple flashbacks.  Some scenes are full of lyrical beauty.  One might quibble that the ending is sudden, and that the author makes use of too many speculative themes for a story of this length, but overall it's compelling.  Four stars.

A Question of Re-Entry, by J. G. Ballard

A major British author offers a science fiction version of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness in his latest story.  A United Nations official travels deep into the South American jungle in search of a spacecraft that crashed there five years ago.  He finds a tribe of Indians ruled by a white man who knows more about the missing vehicle than he admits.  Ballard has a gift for vivid description, and the jungle setting truly comes to life.  The plot is less effective, but adequate.  Three stars.

An Apparition, by Guy de Maupassant

We begin a trio of reprints with this 1883 story, translated from French.  An elderly man recounts the ghostly encounter he experienced as a young soldier.  There's not much else to this tale of the supernatural, which is really just an anecdote.  Two stars.

The Wet Dungeon Straw, by Jean Richepin

Also from 1883, and also translated from French, this macabre little story involves a man held prisoner for decades.  He becomes obsessed with drying out the wet straw on which he lies, exposing each piece to the tiny bit of sunlight he receives each day.  This project takes many years, and leads to an ironic conclusion.  Three stars.

His Natal Star, by Austyn Granville

This bagatelle from 1891 features an astronomer as its protagonist.  The star under which he was born draws near the solar system, and its gravity causes him to be drawn toward it.  The only purpose of this bit of absurd science is to show the fellow floating upside down in his home.  One star.

Nine Starships Waiting, by Roger Zelazny

We return to new fiction with the longest story yet from this prolific young writer.  It's difficult to offer a synopsis of this confusing tale.  Suffice to say that a super-assassin is sent to prevent a fleet of spaceships from conquering a planet.  The story is told from multiple viewpoints, and the assassin undergoes a strange change of identity, so the plot is difficult to follow.  The story is overwritten at times, with many literary allusions.  Two stars.

This disappointing issue, with a few bright spots, proves that both the old and the new contain good and bad.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 22, 1963] Still Snowing (an update on UK fandom)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's the tops, pops…]


By Ashley R. Pollard

Unbelievable, but true! Britain is still covered in snow! With weather like this, British people have plenty to talk about.  I know, I know, compared to the snow in the American Rockies, what we get is nothing.  When I hear complaints about the snow, I remind everyone of the Donner-Reed Party who died during the winter of 1846/47.

I'm good like that.  It's all part of my sunny disposition and ability to see the bright side of any bad situation.  So, while villages have been cut-off, Britain is hardly the Wild West of the Great American frontier. No comparison at all. We haven't eaten each other in many a winter.

So, no grumbling here.  Or at least not much. It's not like I'm in need of a St. Bernard to rescue me from an avalanche.

On a more serious note.

The sad news is that Sylvia Plath died, after she committed suicide.  She was an American born poet who lived here in London, and the news was quite shocking.

In further shocking news, Kim Philby was revealed to be a member of the Cambridge Five.  Shock, horror that this was a front for a Soviet spy-ring came to light when he escaped, via Beirut, to the Soviet Union. That's meant to be sarcasm, for those readers who don't know that Philby was forced to resign from MI6, the British Secret Intelligence Service, for being a suspected double agent.

Flabbergasted, I tell you. Who would've thought. That's the trouble with us as a nation — were too nice.

Given that he was a top official in British intelligence the revelation that he was working for the Russians, has long been expected. But, it still caused ripples in the British establishment.

Quite honestly, given Britain's reputation as spymasters par excellence—historically we were good at what is often called The Great Game—so this news makes us, as a nation, look rather inept.

One member of The Cambridge Five was also associated with a intellectual group called The Apostles.  he questions being asked now are, where does it all end? So, Britain is now searching for any more Reds under the Bed, or as they're known over here, Fellow Travellers.

Perhaps we should call them the Red Apostles? Are we living in some alternative reality, and if so, where's James Bond when you need him?  He has gadgets, and gadgets are good, right? What we need is some super science fictional spy detector. Perhaps, psionic's or we could always bring back Dennis Wheatley. I'm thinking in the guise of his most famous character, the Duke de Richleau. He could uncover the spies through the his knowledge of the occult.

Sorry, that's just my imagination running riot. It's the cold numbing my brain, driving me mad. Mad, I say!

Back in the real world, just to take the biscuit, Charles de Gaulle, President of France's Fifth Republic, vetoed Britain's entry into the European Economic Community.  Pah! I tell you, pah!  I feel like our bright new future of tomorrow has been pulled out from beneath my feet.

No wonder I seek escape into the world of my imagination.

Anyway, moving away from the mundane mundanity into the glittering world of all that's exciting.  I am of course, talking about British fandom.

What fans are looking forward to, when hopefully the all the snow will be gone, is this years EasterCon.  This will Britain's fourteenth national science fiction convention.  Something of an achievement, given that organizing fans is like herding cats, and therefore worth celebrating.

EasterCon is being held between Friday the 12th and Monday the 15th of April at the Bull Hotel in Peterborough.  Unsurprisingly enough, it's called BullCon.  The committee consists of Ken Slater, Pauline Jackson, and Dave Barber.

The Guest of Honour will be Edmund Crispin. This is a pseudonym used by Robert Bruce Montgomery, who is known as an editor of SF anthologies, a composer, and author of crime novels. It's all looking quite exciting.

So I promise that I will write a full ConRep, convention report, on BullCon for my April post.

Also, we—as in fans—are also looking forward to Ethel Lindsay's TAFF report. For those who don't know or remember, TAFF stands for the Trans Atlantic Fan Fund.  She has promised her report will be out this April, by which time we hope all the snow will have gone.

There has been a flourish of fanac, fan activity, with new fanzines in the works from London fan Langdon Jones, who is working as I write this on Tensor 1. Probably because everyone has been trapped, snowed inside their homes, with little else to do.

Oh how we laugh at the weather.

And furthermore, I can announce the winners of the Skyrack fan poll for 1962, early.  You heard it here first.  Walt Willis gets Best British Fan Writer, ATom as Best British Fan Artist, and Ella Parker as Leading Fan Personality of the year.  And, Skyrack by Ron Bennett was voted Best British fanzine.

Postscript to last month.  After the recent death of Hugh Gaitskell, Harold Wilson MP has won the Labour Party leadership election.  I mention this in passing, because the Conservatives have been in power since 1951, and the sense of imminent change is in the air.  Recent opinion polls showed that Labour could win the next General Election, which has also caused shock waves in certain sections of society.

So, this is Ashley Pollard signing off from the depths of winter, in snow bound Britain.  I'm going out now; I may be some time.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Magazine

[February 20, 1963] A merry chase (March 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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[While you're reading this article, why not tune in to KGJ, Radio Galactic Journey, playing all the current hits: pop, rock, soul, folk, jazz, country — it's real now, man…]


by Gideon Marcus

If you've been reading the papers this week, you've no doubt been avidly following the improbable trip of the Anzoategui.  This Venezuelan freighter was hijacked by Communist dissidents who wanted to embarrass Venezuelan prime minister Betancourt such that he wouldn't visit the United States.  Several navies chased the purloined vessel as it steamed 'round the eastern hump of South America, ultimately finding sanctuary in Brazil.

The editorial helm of F&SF was recently taken over by Avram Davidson, and like the poor freighter, the magazine has been a captive to its new master and his whims.  Quality has declined steeply, and were it not for Asimov's article and the excellent tale at the end, this issue would barely be fit to warm a stove.

But, those two pieces are the saving grace of the March 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction…

Seven Day's Wonder, by Edward Wellen

This un-shocking tale of an electric New Testament missionary will fail to galvanize you, either with its ponderous pace or its puny puns.  Honestly, this is the sort of thing Avram Davidson (now F&SF's editor) used to make work.  Sadly neither Wellen nor Davidson are Davidson anymore.  Two stars.

The Day After Saturation, by D. K. Findlay

If overpopulation compel us to settle the seas, is de-evolution toward our aquatic ancestry the next inevitable phase?  Probably not, and this, Findlay's first work, is overwrought.  Two stars.

The Sky of Space, by Karen Anderson

Not a bad poem on the changing understanding but unchanging characteristics of outer space.  Three stars.

The Question, by Donald E. Westlake and Laurence M. Janifer

Hot enough for you?  Be careful what you take for granted.  It might just disappear.  Three stars.

The Importance of Being Important, by Calvin Demmon

Second in a matched pair on solipsism (also from a new author), it explores the perfect life of a fellow whose existence is merely another's convenience.  Pointless.  Two stars.

The Journey of Ten Thousand Miles, by Will Mohler

It's the end of the world, and Tyson St. J Tyson III desperately wants to leave his tomb of a house and go on a sea cruise — only the sea isn't there anymore.  Three pages of a story inflated five-fold to no one's profit.  One star.

Captain Honario Harpplayer, R.N., by Harry Harrison

Overblown, unfunny pastiche of C. S. Foreseter's work.  I've often said that I have trouble distinguishing Harrison and Laumer, but Laumer is funnier when he tries.  1 star.

Game for Motel Room, by Fritz Leiber

When a three-brained, too-silky centenarian beauty with a homicidal husband comes a flirtin', best you send her packing sooner rather than later.  Decently written, but disturbing and kind of dumb.  Two stars.

You, Too, Can Speak Gaelic, by Isaac Asimov

I love pieces on etymology, and the Good Doctor does a fine job of explaining the (not) Celtic roots of para-dimethylaminobenzaldehyde.  Four stars.

Zack With His Scar, by Sydney Van Scyoc

When the world of the future is perfect, the only imperfect thing…is you.  And the only therapy is being saddled with someone worse.  I don't know that I liked this story, but I found it interesting.  Three stars.

Hunter, Come Home, by Richard McKenna

I put off reading the final novelette for days, given how lackluster the rest of the issue had been.  But this story makes up for them all.  It's sort of a cross between Deathworld and Hothouse — a planet with a single, planet-spanning and omnivariate lifeform is under attack by a group of rapacious colonists bent on scouring the native biome and replacing it with terrestrial plants and animals.  The rationale of the invaders is plausible (if distasteful), the depiction of the native life is profound, and the characterization is superb.  Five stars.

And there you have it.  Mediocrity and downright lousiness followed by a burst of talent.  Let's hope Asimov and McKenna don't disembark at Brazil, never to be seen again…

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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Movies

[February 18, 1963] An Odd Beast (Roger Corman's The Raven)

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[It is with great pleasure that I welcome back the Journey's first Fellow Traveler, Rose Benton, who was gone on an unfortunate hiatus caused by Mundac, destroyer of All That Which is Pleasurable.  As you will see, she has not lost one whit of her touch…]


by Rosemary Benton

To come back to the science fiction genre after taking such a long break is not unlike a science fiction story itself.

Returning to her home world, the protagonist finds herself displaced as a citizen in a country she only vaguely recognizes. Undeterred, she resolves to integrate with this bizarre, new adaptation of her homeland. To begin assimilation she must start with something familiar which she can grasp onto.

For me that familiar reentry into science fiction comes via horror movies.

I would go so far as to argue that much of what has shaped the genre of science fiction in film stems from the cinematic roots science fiction and horror share. It has not been uncommon over the last decade to see directors, producers and actors of horror dabble in science fiction, or vice versa. As such, upon realizing that director Roger Corman had released another film last month I put it on my short-list of entertainment priorities.

The Raven hit theaters last month not so much to terrify audiences, but to reel them in with a star studded cast and a light, Edgar Allan Poe-flavored, fantasy comedy story. Starring Vincent Price, Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre and Hazel Court, the film is very loosely based around the narrative Edgar Allan Poe poem by the same name. By this I mean that Hazel Court is, of course, the sassy and longed-for Lenore, and Vincent Price quotes segments of the poem. There the similarities end.

The plot itself is a hilarious melodrama featuring magicians, “diabolical mind control,” and betrayal. Doctor Erasmus Craven (Vincent Price), the overly polite son of the late Grand Master of the Brotherhood of Magicians, is interrupted one evening by a raven tapping at his window. The raven, it turns out, is actually another magician named Doctor Bedlo (Peter Lorre), who was put under a spell by the current Grand Master, Doctor Scarabus (Boris Karloff). Initially Dr. Craven is hesitant to accompany the vengeful Dr. Bedlo back to Dr. Scarabus' castle, but after Dr. Bedlo tells Dr. Craven that his dearly departed wife, Lenore (Hazel Court), may be stuck at the Grand Master's castle as an enslaved spirit, both magicians set out to confront him. They are accompanied by Dr. Craven's daughter, Estelle (Olive Dora Sturgess), and Dr. Bedlo's son, Rexford (Jack Nicholson).

Greeted by a surprisingly hospitable Dr. Scarabus, Dr. Craven, Rexford and Estelle are lulled into a false sense of security before being imprisoned in Dr. Scarabus' dungeon. The treacherous Dr. Bedlo, who was promised power in exchange for luring Dr. Craven to him, is likewise thrown in the dungeon. The very much alive Lenore then appears to taunt Dr. Craven, confessing to having killed someone else and placing their body in the casket. After nearly escaping, Dr. Craven and Dr. Scarabus decide to resolve their conflict with a duel of magic. The winner absorbs the other's power, causing the loser's control of magic to be unreliable for the rest of their lives. A lengthy, whimsical battle replete with fun special effects ensues, but ultimately our heroes are victorious. Lenore futilely implores Dr. Craven to take her back, claiming ineffectively that she was under Dr. Scarabus' mind control. As the castle burns in the background they return home, Dr. Craven now all the more powerful, Estelle and Rexford are besotted with one another, and Dr. Bedlo is stuck as a raven indefinitely. The immoral Dr. Scarabus and Lenore survive as well, but are now without a home or magic. 

While still best known for his role as the monster in the Universal Pictures Frankenstein movies (or rather, his pre-Hayes Code work in general), Karloff gave a very solid performance that was both charming with a sinister undercurrent. I was very much convinced that his character, Dr. Scarabus, was a charismatic master manipulator who could realistically have backstabbed and coerced his way up the ranks of the Brotherhood of Magic. Where as Vincent Price does most of his acting through facial expressions and Peter Lorre's strengths lie in applying various degrees of bluster, slight effeminateness, and weaselly demeanor to his roles, Boris Karloff performs his lines with smooth rehearsed precision.

Although the draw for The Raven is obviously its cast and its versatile director, the real reason I would encourage anyone to pay the $0.86 for admission is the odd combination of The Raven's quirky setting and comical deadpan dialogue. Not since he was in Frankenstein has Boris Karloff acted in such an strangely pieced-together beast. It was billed as a horror movie with the tag line, “The Macabre Masterpiece of Terror,” it thanks to what was undoubtedly ad libbing by Price and Lorre, it unquestionably took on an awkward but funny tone.

No one is going to fault The Raven for being a boring movie, but will it be remembered as a well developed story? Probably not. Will it be remembered for its odd fantasy/comedy/horror angle? Definitely. A spontaneous and fun fantasy/drama in the guise of a horror movie, The Raven was well worth the ticket price even if it was a rather silly way to begin the process of reacquainting myself with my long lost science fiction. 

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Your ballot should have arrived by now…]




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