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[April 16, 1968] Tripods and Others (April 1968 Galactoscope)

April 16, 2023 Victoria Silverwolf 4 Comments

by Victoria Silverwolf

Chalk and Cheese

I recently read two new science fiction novels by British authors that are otherwise as different as they can be. One takes place in the very near future. The other is set centuries from now. One never leaves England. The other ventures into interstellar space. One uses an experimental narrative style. The other is told in a traditional manner. One is New Wave, the other Old Wave. Let's take a look at both.

Bedlam Planet, by John Brunner

Cover art by Jeff Jones.

Before the story starts, unmanned probes discovered a habitable planet orbiting Sigma Draconis. A team of four explorers went to check it out. Everything seemed hunky-dory, so three big starships carried a bunch of colonists there. They named the planet Asgard.

One ship was to be used for raw materials. Another was to be kept intact, in case the colonists needed to get out quick. The third was supposed to carry our hero, one of the original four explorers, back to Earth.

Disaster struck when an error in navigation caused one of the ships to crash into Asgard's moon. Our protagonist, a born wanderer, is stuck on Asgard, a reluctant colonist who doesn't fit in with the others. While off on his own, he is stung by a local critter and spends several days hallucinating.

Meanwhile, a microorganism native to the planet gets into the bodies of the colonists, leading to vitamin C deficiency and thus scurvy. For various reasons, the only permanent solution to this medical problem is for folks to start eating local foodstuffs, not yet known to be completely safe. Half a dozen colonists are selected at random to test native foods.

When our hero returns, he finds the six people locked up, apparently insane and guilty of sabotaging the colony. The other colonists are in a very bad state, barely able to take care of their basic needs and unwilling to make even very simple repairs. Can one man whip them into shape, solve the vitamin C problem, figure out what happened to the six insane folks, and save the colony?

I should mention that the hero's hallucinations, as well as those of the six colonists who eat local foods, take the form of folklore from their individual cultures. A Greek woman, for example, imagines scenes from Greek mythology. A detailed description of these hallucinations is probably the most interesting and original part of the book.

The explanation for what's going on didn't fully convince me; it got a bit mystical for my taste. What is otherwise a problem-solving SF story that wouldn't be out of place in the pages of Analog flirts with things like racial memory. I'll give the author credit for having major characters of both sexes and multiple ethnicities.

Three stars.

Synthajoy, by D. G. Compton

Cover art by Diane and Leo Dillon.

It's nearly impossible to provide you with a simple synopsis of this novel, because it's narrated in a nonlinear fashion. In addition to that, the narrator may be insane, spends most of the day in a sedated condition, and is subjected to a form of therapy/punishment that definitely messes up her mind.

The narrator is the wife of a obsessive scientist, now dead. With the help of a brilliant electronics engineer (later the wife's lover, and also dead), he came up with a way to record the sensations experienced by one person and to allow another to share them. Originally used as therapy, it becomes a form of entertainment as well.

We slowly learn that the narrator has been convicted of a crime, and that she is subjected to mental recordings designed to make her contrite. With multiple flashbacks, some going all the way to the narrator's childhood, we see how the device was invented, how it was used, and how it was corrupted. We also receive varying accounts of how the two men died.

Alternating with these memories, which may be distorted, the narrator also relates events happening to her in the present. Her relationship with the Nurse and the Doctor is a complex one, with hidden motives everywhere.

This is a difficult book. Besides jumping back and forth in time, often from one sentence to the next, the text frequently breaks off in the middle of a line. Events are not only narrated out of order, but also retold in a completely different way. It's impossible to discover the real truth.

Despite the effort required on the part of the reader, and the inherent ambiguity of the work, this is a fine novel. The author happens to be male, but he writes from the point of view of a woman in a completely convincing manner. If you're looking for light entertainment, seek elsewhere. If you want to discover that science fiction can be serious literature, you're in the right place.

Five stars.

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

The Tripods (The White Mountains, The City of Gold and Lead, The Pool of Fire) by John Christopher

H. G. Wells’ War of the Worlds casts a long shadow over the science fictional world. Whether fans see it as using invasion literature as a satire on imperialism or just an atmospheric horror tale, know it from films, radio or magazines, it is one of the core works of SF.

But what if Wells’ Martians came not to exterminate but enslave?

Whilst not officially a sequel to War of the Worlds, it is hard not to read it as anything else. In this version, the Tripods came and conquered more than a century ago. After millions were killed in the war what remains of humanity lives in a feudal society under their tripod overlords. Once people reach the age of 13, a metal “cap” is put into their head which ensures their compliance with the alien commands.

Will Parker, from a Southern English village, meets a vagrant who tells him of the location of free humans. Together with his cousin Henry they journey to The White Mountains, to both learn more of The Tripods, and to fight against them.

At their heart these are juvenile adventure stories, a cross between Ian Serallier’s Silver Sword and Andre Norton’s SF tales. However, juvenile should not be taken to mean shallow or hollow. These are dark tales of children trying to survive in an oppressive society.

The highlight for me is the second book, where we get to see life in a Tripod city and Will is treated as a pet by one of the aliens. It is insightful, vivid and very disturbing.

These do have one flaw and that is found in the final book. Christopher wants to tie up the trilogy in these short books and the ending feels incredibly abrupt and light, given what we see in the others. However, there is still much to enjoy here and worth checking out.

I actually feel the limitations of having to write for a younger audience benefit Christopher. He is forced to remove his tendency for gratuitous shock scenes for the sake of it, nor did I notice any of his usual prejudices against the Celtic nations of the British Isles. If he sticks within this field, I will willingly pick up more of his books.

Four stars

by Blue Cathey-Thiele

Ace Double H-56

Pity About Earth, by Ernest Hill

Pity About Earth introduces us to Shale, a callous, ambitious, often downright cruel man. He and Phrix, his alien assistant, work for the god-like Publisher, in advertising. His ship is automated, as is the rest of the universe. A mistress of his plots with a competitor, and Shale is forced to escape into a labyrinth. There he encounters cages inhabited by humans who have been conditioned to prove concepts in torturous and deadly ways. Shale feels no sympathy, up until a human-ape hybrid named Marylin catches his attention. He is strangely compelled by her. She helps him to escape the maze, and later, the planet.

Despite being a Groil, Phrix has been promoted to Shale's old position. In one of many instances where Marylin tries to redirect Shale from violence, she protects Phrix by setting Shale to go to Asgard, fabled home of the Publisher.

Upon reaching Asgard, they find the long dead remains of the Publisher. In his place is Limsola, a woman who has been gaining the secrets of Asgard executives just before their deaths. Shale is distracted by her allure, breaking Marylin's heart as he was the first being to show her a shred of care. Limsola encourages Marylin to Publish, to change the rules. Marylin confers with Phrix about how change could happen, and she takes up post as the new Publisher. On his homeworld, Phrix follows her lead, and together they begin to breathe life back into a world that had become frozen.

The world of the Publisher is automated to the point of inaction. Life is casually thrown aside even while there are means to prevent suffering. Advertising is a key function yet items only exist to *be* advertised. Phrix tasks himself with upending an entire universe. It is not a matter of ethics to him, only what is and what could be. Marylin has only abstract knowledge, no personal experiences, and yet she has more compassion and care than any other character.

Shale is hardly unique in his views, unwilling or unable to look beyond himself and care for others prior to meeting Marylin, and even after he begins to have some sense of shared "humanity" it is brief and confuses him. There is a special horror in his blasé approach to the labyrinth of experiments, food made of humans, and sexual violence. He doles out death and the dead are simply out of luck. He is a deeply unlikable protagonist; Marylin and Phrix provide far more engaging points of view.

I can't say I enjoyed it, but it left me with thoughts to chew on.

3 stars

Space Chantey, by R.A. Lafferty

Captain Roadstrum plays the part of Odysseus in a loose adaptation of The Odyssey. Along with Captain Pucket, he and the crew of hornet-men visit planets that serve as analogs to the islands on the way home from Troy. Roadstrum is not some wise general, he survives via luck, sheer force of will, and the rare moment of inspiration. Margaret the houri and Deep John the "original hobo", myths in their own right, join the crew.

Roadstrum finds Valhalla, where his crew feast and fight and die, all to rise up ready to fight again the next morning. Upon leaving, the crew have their tongues cut out and grow themselves replacement organs- Roadstrum opts for a forked tongue, which grants him clever speech. They speed through twenty years while being sucked into a black hole, escaping via a recently installed button that reverses time.

Helios' cows are replaced by an asteroid belt orbiting a sun, though that doesn't stop the crew from capturing and *eating* one of these asteroids like a prize calf.

Roadstrum takes over for Atlas, not carrying the physical weight of the world but perceiving existence in its entirety, as anything he drops his attention from ceases to exist.

The crew complains about the size and quality of the hell planet they've been sentenced to for their crime against Aeaea, a version of the witch Circe, before breaking out.

Roadstrum is in no great hurry to get home, and we don't even get the name of his wife or son (Penny and Tele-Max) until the last 15 pages.

There is a degree of self-awareness to both the story and Roadstrum himself, moments when he recognizes that he is acting out a story that has happened before, or even actions he seems to remember. He makes a determined break from repeating actions at the close of the book, choosing not to settle peacefully with his wife and son as the former version of Odysseus did, but to fly off toward more adventure.

Although Space Chantey, like Pity, has characters eating other people, casual killing, and brutality, it's in the format of a tall-tale and with barely half the gritty detail as the first book of this Ace Double. Even the characters who are dying often take it as a bit of a joke. Indeed, this book reads more as a folk story with space-travel trappings than science fiction. Characters die and return with little or no explanation, survive impossibilities and contradict themselves and the narration. It is larger than life and at times quite silly. It also has plenty of dubious poetry in the form of verse interludes.

This would have been better suited as a series of stories around a campfire than a sci-fi novel.

2.5 stars

by Gideon Marcus

Sideslip!, by Ted White and Dave Van Arnam

If you've been following Dave Van Arnam's First Draft 'zine, you're probably rooting for this fan-turned-filthy-pro. I didn't get a chance to read his Star Gladiator, and this newest book is co-written. Still, Ted White's name is magic to me, and who could resist this lurid cover. Therefore, it was with no hesitation that I plunked down my four bits plus a dime to read Sideslip!

I was even more excited to see that the book starred Ronnie Archer, outsized private eye, who starred in the excellent short story, Wednesday, Noon. Turns out he's a false cognate, however. Per a letter Ted sent me:

Same name, different characters. Ron Archer was my penname as a cartoonist in the early '50s, and got applied to subsequent characters, usually private detectives. Ron was the protagonist in my never-written mystery novel, "The Stainless Steal."

Ah well. The rest of the book was similarly a disappointment. In brief, Ron Archer finds himself zapped into an alternate New York in a set-up quite close to that of White's Jewels of Elsewhen. But in this New York, alien invaders conquered the Earth in 1938, turning our world into a colonial source for raw materials. The "Angels", who look like tall, luminous humans, are protected by force fields and human collaborators known as Yellow-Jackets. This does not keep resistance groups from forming, which in the Untied States are represented by The Technocrats (led by Hugo Gernsback and employing Albert Einstein–these are the folks who warped Archer to this alternate world), the Communists, and the Nazis (led by none other than Hitler, himself).

The first half of the novel details Archer getting captured by and escaping from each of the various groups, ultimately ending up in the hands of the Angels. Well, one particular Angel. The one female Angel, who of course immediately falls in love with Archer. At this point, the story practically grinds to a halt as Archer is taken off-world to meet the Angels and argue for Earth's sovereignty. There are lots of pop-eyed descriptions of advanced technologies that feel better suited to SF from the 20s or 30s. Archer and Sharna, his Angel lover, have a fraught relationship written with the subtlety and skill of a teenager writing his first fanfiction. The end is a brief, action-filled segment. In between, there's a lot more sex and nudity than I've seen in an American SF novel. I found it a bit embarrassing.

In short, we have the bones of a Ted White novel, but none of the feel. Missing is the deft, sensual touch that White lends his pieces, as well as any semblance of good pacing. This actually makes perfect sense–in another letter, White explained that the story was largely executed by Van Arnam:

This was a book which started in a writer's group. I wrote an opening hook and passed it out to the others. Dave Van Arnam picked up on it and suggested we collaborate on a book. Which we did. I was not happy with Dave's writing early on, and heavily rewrote his first drafts, but as I fed these back to him he picked up on what was needed, and the last quarter of the book is mostly his. Pyramid liked the book well enough to ask us to write their Lost in Space book…

The real problem with the book, beyond the technical issues, is that Archer doesn't do anything. At every turn, he's simply along for the ride, noting his surroundings, occasionally running. Archer, himself, notes as much at the end of the book. I suppose that speaks to some authorial awareness, though it doesn't fix the problem.

Still, the book is readable, in a hackish sort of way, and the concepts are fine, if as hamfisted as the cover. Based on quality, I should give this thing two stars, but I did make it through Sideslip!, and I wanted to know what happened, so I'll give it three.

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[March 16, 1968] In Distant Lands (March Galactoscope)

March 16, 2023 Cora Buhlert Leave a comment

by Cora Buhlert

Protests in Poland

Student protests have been erupting all over Europe and even the otherwise nigh impenetrable iron curtain cannot stop them.

The latest country to be rocked by student protests is Poland. The protests were triggered when a production of the play Dziady (Forefathers' Eve) by Adam Mickiewicz, Poland's most celebrated poet, was pulled from the Warsaw National Theatre because of alleged anti-Soviet tendencies. In response, students protested against the cancellation of the play and censorship in general. More than thirty students were arrested during the initial protests in Warsaw and two of them were expelled from the University of Warsaw. The fact that both expelled students happened to be Jewish suggests that Anti-Semitism, which has been rearing its ugly head in Poland again in recent years under the guise of Anti-Zionism, may have played a role.

The Polish students, however, were not willing to give up and announced another protest for March 8. The authorities responded with violence and pre-emptively arrested several student leaders. Nonetheless, the protests spread to other Polish cities.

Buddha is a Spaceman: Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny

Roger Zelazny, of Polish origin himself, is one of the most exciting young authors in our genre and has already won two Nebulas and one Hugo Award, which is remarkable, considering he has only been writing professionally for not quite six years.

My own response to Zelazny's works has been mixed. I enjoyed some of them very much (the Dilvish the Damned stories from Fantastic or last year's novella "Damnation Alley" from Galaxy) and could not connect to others at all (the highly lauded "A Rose for Ecclesiastes"). So I opened Zelazny's latest novel Lord of Light with trepidation, for what would I find within, the Zelazny who wrote the Dilvish the Damned stories or the one who wrote "A Rose for Ecclesiastes"?

The answer is "a little bit of both" and "neither". Lord of Light is not so much a novel, but a series of interconnected stories, two of which, "Dawn" and "Death and the Executioner", appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction last year. To make things even more disjointed, the stories are not arranged in chronological order either.

The novel starts with the resurrection of Mahasamatman, Sam to his friends, who may or may not be a god. Sam is not happy about his resurrection, because he was pulled back into bodily existence from a blissful, Nirvana-like bodyless existence that was supposed to be a punishment, the only way of executing one who is functionally immortal. We gradually learn what brought Sam to this place, namely his rebellion against the gods of his world who keep the population downtrodden and oppressed .

Initially, Lord of Light appears to be a fantasy novel, but we eventually realise that the novel is set on a distant planet in the far future and that the gods and demigods we meet are the crew of the Earth spaceship Star of India, which landed here eons ago, while the demons are the original inhabitants of the planet. The human crew mutated themselves to better survive and reincarnate themselves in new bodies via mind transfer to become immortal. They rule over their descendants with an iron hand as self-styled gods. Sam, however, will have none of this and launches a rebellion.

Fantasy and science fiction have been drawing from European religion, mythology and history for decades. In Lord of Light, however, Zelazny draws on Hindu and Buddhist religion and mythology. The spaceship crew turned gods are based on Hindu deities, while Sam is based on Siddhartha Gautama a.k.a. Buddha.

Indian culture is popular right now and Indian influences can be seen in fashion, interior design, music (the Beatles have just embarked on a meditation sojourn in India) as well as in the yoga studios springing up in the big cities. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before Indian influences would appear in science fiction. Especially since it would be silly to assume that only white Christian westerners get to travel to the stars. There is a Christian character in Lord of Light, by the way; the ship's former chaplain Renfrew embarks on a crusade against the self-styled Hindu gods and their worshippers.

The Beatles in India — The Beatles arrived in India for a meditation retreat last month.

It is a refreshing change to read a science fiction novel where eastern rather than western culture and religion dominate the far future. Nonetheless, something about Lord of Light bothered me. As a child, I spent time in South East Asia, mainly in Singapore, but also in Bangkok, because my Dad was stationed there as an agent for the Norddeutscher Lloyd and DDG Hansa shipping companies. And while I cannot claim to know a lot about Hinduism and Buddhism (though two war-battered Buddha statues guard my home), I know enough to realise that Zelazny gets a lot of things wrong.

Fullerton Building in Singapore — Singapore as it looked when I lived there: The General Post Office a.k.a. the Fullerton Building, which was brand-new at the time. I understand Singapore has been modernising rapidly since gaining independence.

C.K. Tang Ltd. in Singapore — The C.K. Tang Ltd. department store in Singapore, where my mother and I enjoyed shopping back in the day.

Of course, Zelazny isn't the only person to rather liberally adapt mythology into fiction. For example, The Broken Sword by Poul Anderson, Marvel's The Mighty Thor comics or The Ring of the Nibelungs by Richard Wagner are all liberal adaptions of Norse mythology and yet I am not bothered by them. However, hardly anybody worships the Norse or the Greek gods anymore, whereas Hinduism and Buddhism are living religions with some 255 and 150 million worshipers respectively. And borrowing from a living religion as someone who is not an adherent feels disrespectful in a way that turning Norse gods into superheroes does not.

I for one would love to see more science fiction and fantasy that draws on non-western culture and mythology. However, I would prefer to read works written by authors who actually come from the culture in question rather than by a Polish-Irish Catholic from Ohio. India is a country of 533 million people. Surely, some of them write science fiction and I hope to eventually see their take on Indian mythology and history rather than Zelazny's.

Interesting and well written but disjointed and somewhat disrespectful to half a billion Hindus and Buddhists.

Three and a half stars

Looting the Pharaohs: Easy Go by John Lange

I don't just read science fiction and fantasy, but am also fond of mysteries and thrillers. This is how I came across John Lange, who burst onto the scene two years ago with the heist novel Odds On and followed up with the spy thriller Scratch One last year. Both novels are notable for their tight writing and clever plots, as well as their evocative – and as far as I can tell accurate – description of locations deemed exotic by the average American reader. There even is the occasional science fiction element, e.g. the heist in Odds On is planned using a computer program.

Lange's latest novel Easy Go contains all the elements that made his previous works so enjoyable. This time, Lange takes us to Egypt, where an American archaeologist named Harold Barnaby has made an exciting discovery, a seemingly innocuous papyrus which contains an coded message revealing the location of a heretofore undiscovered royal tomb. This discovery could gain Barnaby academic accolades – or a whole lot of money. Barnaby chooses the latter and decides to rob the tomb. However, the timid academic needs help and finds it in Richard Pierce, a journalist and old war buddy of Barnaby's who has the connections and the plan to pull off the heist of the century.

Cairo 1968 — These days, Cairo is a bustling modern city, which does not remotely look like the set of a Hollywood sword and sandal epic, contrary to popular belief.

The novel follows the usual beats of a heist story. A team of specialists is assembled and a carefully plotted plan is executed, while fate keeps throwing wrenches at our protagonists, especially since the Egyptian authorities turn out to be not nearly as stupid as Pierce and Barnaby assumed. We have seen this sort of story before in movies like Ocean's Eleven, Topkapi or the TV-show Mission Impossible and yet Lange brings a unique flair to the well-worn plot via his knowledge of Egyptology and his vivid descriptions of bustling modern day Egypt (which contrary to popular belief does not look like the set of a Hollywood sword and sandal epic). The building of the Aswan Dam and the moving of the Temple of Abu Simbel play a notable role.

Moving Abu Simbel — The marvelous of moving the Abu Simbel temple to save it from sinking into the rising waters of the Aswan Dam.

But who is John Lange? Rumour has it that he is a medical student at Harvard who is writing under a pseudonym in order to finance his tuition. Rumour also has it that Lange is working on a bona fide science fiction novel about a deadly plague from outer space, which is expected to come out next year. I can't wait.

An fun caper thriller which will make you want to book a trip to Egypt.

Four and a half stars

by Victoria Silverwolf

Tuning Up the Orchestra

I recently read a quartet of new works of speculative fiction. They range from so-called Hard SF, dealing with science and technology, to New Wave experimentation. Like the movements of a symphony, they offer varying contents, moods, and tempos. Let's grab copies of the program notes and find some good seats before the music begins.

First Movement: Andante

Anonymous cover art.

Out of the Sun, by Ben Bova

An American fighter plane traveling at three times the speed of sound over the Arctic Ocean suddenly breaks apart. The same thing happens to two other aircraft of the same kind. The military calls in the fellow who designed the special metal alloy from which the planes were constructed. He has to figure out what's wrong before more lives are lost.

This is a very short book with plenty of white space. I suspect it was intended for younger readers. (Unlike most so-called juveniles, however, all the characters are adults.) There are some violent deaths, but never described in any detail. The closest thing to sex in its pages is the hero taking a woman out to dinner.

This problem-solving story wouldn't be out of place in the pages of Analog. (Fortunately, it lacks John W. Campbell's quirky obsessions.) It moves at a moderate pace, but is never very exciting. You might be able to predict the main plot gimmick before it's revealed, if you've been keeping up with recent developments in technology.

The writing is very plain and simple. You could easily finish the book in an hour. A longer version, with more fully developed characters, would be welcome.

Two stars.

Second Movement: Adagio

Cover art by Robert Korn.

The God Machine, by Martin Caidin

This one starts with a bang. The narrator, having survived multiple attempts on his life, allows a woman with whom he's been having an affair to enter his room. She immediately offers her body to him, thrusting herself at him wantonly. Instead of reacting the way you'd expect, he knocks her unconscious with the butt of his pistol.

No juvenile novel here!

A long flashback tells us how he got into this situation. The narrator is a mathematical genius. The government contacts him while he's in high school, offering to pay for the best possible college education. In return, they want him to work on a hush-hush project.

It seems that millions of dollars of taxpayer money have been spent constructing a facility deep inside a mountain in Colorado. In terms of secrecy and security, it's the equivalent of the Manhattan Project. The goal? To build a super-powerful computer, one that can come up with its own ideas of how best to prevent a nuclear war.

The computer can also directly communicate with human beings through the use of alpha waves in their brains. Add in the fact that, along with the rest of its vast knowledge, it understands a lot about hypnosis, and you can see where this is going.

When the machine decides that the narrator has to be eliminated, things seem hopeless. He can't trust anybody. The computer itself is protected by lasers, electricity, and radiation. It's got its own secure atomic power generators, so you can't just turn it off. What's a fellow to do?

Other than the opening and closing scenes, most of the book moves at a leisurely pace. In sharp contrast to Bova's slim volume, this tome is well over three hundred pages. It could benefit from some judicious editing; I learned more than I really needed to know about the narrator's life before he becomes the computer's target.

Two stars.

Third Movement: Scherzo

Cover art by Richard Powers.

The Reefs of Earth, by R. A. Lafferty

As soon as you take a look at the table of contents for the author's first novel, you know you're in for something different.

Not only are the chapter titles weird, they form a poem. There are lots of other little bits of verse throughout the book as well. Usually, these are poems that the six children (or seven, if you count Bad John) use to work magic, particularly to kill people.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, and I'm confusing you. Let me start over.

Some time ago, two married couples came to Earth from another planet. They're doomed to succumb to Earth sickness. They had a total of six children (or seven, if you count Bad John) among them. Because these offspring were born on Earth, they won't get the sickness.

What's this Bad John nonsense? I hear you cry.

Well, he died at birth, but he's still around. Only certain Earth folks, such as an American Indian and a drunken Frenchman, can perceive him. He's insubstantial and can pass through walls and such, but the other children are emphatic that he is not a ghost.

I have no idea why he's called Bad John. Another of the kids is just named John.

This gives you a tiny hint of how eccentric this book is. I would be hard pressed to provide a coherent plot summary. It has something to do with the children plotting to kill everybody on the planet. Meanwhile, one of the adults is blamed for a murder he didn't commit.

The narrative style is that of a tall tale or a shaggy dog story. The mood might be described as serious whimsy. There's a lot of violence — the basic plot, if there is one, involves an ax murder — but only the Earth people seem to care very much about it. It's not exactly a black comedy, but it treats death in an offhand fashion.

Although they're from another planet, the characters are more supernatural than alien. (They're called the Puka, and the allusion to the Pooka from Celtic myth seems intentional.)

It may be labeled as science fiction, but this is a fantasy novel, and a very strange one at that. How much you get out of it will depend on whether or not you're willing to let the author take you on a dizzying journey with no particular destination in kind.

Four stars.

Fourth Movement: Allegro

Cover art by Harry Douthwaite.

The Final Programme, by Michael Moorcock

As editor of a remarkably transformed version of the venerable science fiction magazine New Worlds, the author proves himself to be the guiding light of the British New Wave. This book shows he can write the stuff, too.

It first appeared as three separate stories in New Worlds. I'm not sure how much has been added to it, if anything, or how substantially it's been revised, if at all. It's more coherent as a whole rather than in bits and pieces, but it's still somewhat episodic.

Jerry Cornelius is a rock star, a brilliant scientist/philosopher, and as quick with a gun as James Bond. He's also a snappy dresser. We'll get a lot of detailed descriptions of his mod outfits throughout the book.

Jerry gets involved with some folks who want to get their hands on microfilm kept secure in the fortress home of his late father. Complicating matters is the presence inside the house of Jerry's sinister brother Frank and his beloved sister Catherine.

(The relationship between Jerry and Catherine may remind you of a certain controversial story that recently appeared in a groundbreaking anthology.)

Things get pretty wild at this point, from a bloody assault on the fortress to a secret underground base built by the Nazis to the novel's truly apocalyptic climax.

I should mention another character who plays a vital part in the story. Miss Brunner (no first name ever given) is an enigma. At first, she seems to be nothing more than one of the conspirators who work with Jerry. She soon turns out to be a most peculiar sort of person indeed.

I'd say Miss Brunner is actually the heart of the novel, more so than Jerry himself. She's always several steps ahead of everyone else, and has an agenda of her own that doesn't become clear until the end of the book.

The author's style is usually surprisingly traditional, no matter how bizarre the plot. The mood combines frenzy with the feeling that things are falling apart all over, and that maybe this is a good thing. At times, I felt that Moorcock was amusing himself at the expense of the reader. It's worth a look, but you may wonder what it's all supposed to mean.

Three stars.

by Gideon Marcus

Ace Double H-48

The Youth Monopoly, by Ellen Wobig

Rod Dorashi is a vagabond, a member of the wretched working class of Metropolis, staying out of trouble so as not to be squashed by the draconian dictator Korm. Yet he risks all to take in an old man, hit by a car, in his last hours of life. The dying man presses a packet of seeds upon Rod, promising that they are the secret to eternal life.

Enter Bey Ormand, a slick powerful man who is the founder and ruler of Trysis–a paradisical resort and the sole purveyor of the distilled essence of the forever seeds. For a lordly sum, they turn back the clock for their customers by five years. Seemingly without motive, Ormand picks up Rod and adds him to his select coterie of multi-centenarians. The troupe then acts as little dictators, forcing all invitees, whether petty princes of a Balkanized America, or faded stars and starlets, to grovel at their feet.

Despite an instinct for rebellion, Dorashi never quite revolts. Instead, he sticks with the sadistic Ormand and his band for centuries. When they leave (almost without notice), the wrap-up is many pages of explanation: turns out Ormand et. al. were not very old humans but actually very old aliens, and the goal of the project was to siphon off the wealth of the Earth–something they've done time and again.

The whole thing reads like a long, unpleasant cocktail party, and the framing of the ending is not at all condemnatory. It merely is.

I applaud new author Wobig for their first publication, but I found The Youth Monopoly a difficult, and ultimately unrewarding, read.

Two stars.

Pictures of Pavanne, by Lan Wright

On the dead planet of Pavanne, light years from Earth, reside 'The Pictures'. This tremendous tapestry, carved from native rock by unknown aliens countless eons ago, are the most beautiful sight in the galaxy. And, of course, capitalism being what it is, the Harkrider corporation has secured the license to the their viewing. Now, Pavanne is a pleasure planet that specializes in relieving every wealthy guest of their money, pouring it into the coffers of the half-robotic, entirely wizened Jason Harkrider.

Enter Max Farway, one of humanity's leading artists. Driven by the need to prove himself, exacerbated by the twisted, diminutive and sterile body he was born with, Farway resolves to tackle the hardest subject of art: The Pictures themselves. And so, he travels to Pavanne with his beautiful, recently widowed step-mother, and his much put-upon agent, in time for the conjunction of the alien planet and the brighter of its two suns–when the artifact achieves its highest, and most ineffable level of beauty. But once he steps foot on Pavanne, Farway finds himself in a power struggle with the planet's venal warlord, with Harkrider's assistant, Rudolph Heininger, a wild card in the conflict. At the heart of it all are the unknown predictions of the murdered mathematician Damon Wisehart, whose calculations suggest something terrible is soon to occur involving Pavanne and its extraterrestrial art.

For a good portion of the reading, I admired author Wright's juxtaposition of the petty and irritable Farway, along with the thoroughly disgusting Wisehart (and his twisted twin daughters), with the unearthly beauty of The Pictures. As Farway slowly grows up under the ministrations of his gentle step-mother, I looked forward to a piece that was largely philosophical, eschewing the fetters of the typical Ace Double. This is largely discarded at the end, as things wrap up suddenly and with much action, but without much heart.

Perhaps a more satisfying book remains to be published by a different press. As is, I give it three stars.

Need more science fiction? The next episode of Star Trek is on TONIGHT! You won't want to miss it:

Here's the invitation!

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[February 14, 1968] Triple John (February 1968 Galactoscope)

February 14, 2023 Kris Vyas-Myall 4 Comments

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

The Butterfly Kid by Chester Anderson

Drugs seem to be everywhere these days in science fiction. From Aldiss’ Acid War stories in New Worlds, through Dick’s Faith of Our Fathers in Dangerous Visions, to Brunner’s Productions of Time in Fantasy & Science Fiction. Some days I wonder if I am the only person in fandom that isn’t getting high and floating up among The Stars That Play with Laughing Sam’s Dice.

As such, it was only a matter of time before we got a real hip novel that fully blurs the boundary between fantastic and the psychedelic. Anderson is the one to give it to us.

One Pill Makes You Larger

So, what is this book about? On a basic plot level it is about Chester and Mike (fictionalised versions of the author and his sometimes co-writer) who seem to be sort of hippies living in 1977. They discover people affected by a mysterious new drug called Reality Pills, which cause psychedelic hallucinations to physically appear, such as a kid able to create butterflies and another person with their own halo. They set about tracking down the source of this, which, as the cover gives away, turns out to be extra-terrestrial.

As you can imagine, this gets very surreal quickly. Here is a sample conversation:

“Excuse me,” said another tall blue lobster, making its way to the john.
“One of yours?” I wondered. “I thought it was one yours.”
“I don’t like blue lobsters.”

Your willingness to just go with these kinds of sections without any prelude will likely dictate your enjoyment of the novel.

One Pill Makes You Small

But that, for me, isn’t what the book is really about. Rather, it gives us a window on to a subculture, the lives of dropouts and experimental rock groups in Greenwich Village right now. As I have not been there myself, I cannot speak to the reliability of Anderson’s vision but it is a vivid one imbued with a feeling of time and place, just as clear as if someone was talking to me about Middle Earth Club in London.

That is not to say I understood it all, and New Yorkers may well be able to “dig” more of it than I do, but it feels real and lived in, in a way so much science fiction does not.

And The Ones Your Mother Gives You, Don’t Do Anything At All

There are certain parts that do not work as well for me. It is filled with a lot of references to New York life and pop culture, some of which I understood (e.g. use of an obscure Tolkien simile) but other meanings were totally lost on me.

Perhaps more importantly, I am not certain if it is really “about” anything much. With its style and boundary pushing content, it is clearly aiming more for the literary than Campbell-esque end of the market. But Last Exit To Brooklyn this is not, whilst the current trial for that book’s UK publication hinges on its merits as a great work of literature, I cannot help but feel that argument could not be made in this case. Scenes like the Goddess Fellatia attempting to rape a police officer feel added more for the sake of shock value than any complex point being made.

Remember What The Dormouse Said, “Feed Your Head!”

Having said all that, I believe it still passes Sturgeon’s Law and is better than 90% of science fiction on the market. It is not perfect by any stretch and falls down in a number of areas. But it is still quite a groovy trip to take.

Four Stars

Here are some damning short takes from Kris and Jason–and both involve Lin Carter and Belmont Books!

The Thief of Thoth, by Lin Carter, and …And Others Shall Be Born, by Frank Belknap Long

"Belmont Double? Don't Bother. Dead Boring, Better-off Dreaming!"

Tower at the Edge of Time, by Lin Carter

"Ugh I just can’t get into this stupid barbarian book. Lin Carter’s writing is so full of stereotypes and clichés. I’ve tried a few times to get through it and can’t. I’m tagging out for this month."

by Gideon Marcus

Ace Double H-40

Here's another shortish take, simply because this Double doesn't merit more:

C.O.D. Mars, by E. C. Tubb

Art by Jack Gaughan

The first interstellar journey results in horror: of the five crew, only three remain alive. The other two are carriers of an extraterrestrial disease, or perhaps worse–unwitting vessels of an alien invasion.

Someday, someone might write a superb book or series of books about a private investigator who jaunts through the asteroid belt, trying to thwart a Martian plot to weaponize alien technology (in the guise of infected humans) to gain an upper hand against Earth. This one isn't it.

It's not bad, but it's back to the humdrum potboiling that's associated with Tubb (sad, because we know he, and Ace, can do better–viz. The Winds of Gath). Part of the issue is the length; this is really a long novella, and the ending is rushed and pat–probably as a result.

Three and a half stars.

Alien Sea, by John Rackham

Art by George Zei

A ruined ship crewed by extra-terrestrials, the last survivor of a devastating planetary conflict, makes a close approach to their alien sun. As its hull chars and the crew and passengers succumb one by one to the heat, their only hope is that their cometary orbit will swing it quickly back for a rendezvous with their doomed world. But when they reach home, they find the doomsday weapons have sunk the two warring continents. All that is left is waves…and survivors on an enemy satellite. Together, they must build a new society, one free from strife.

Great premise! I was certainly hooked. Sadly, that's just the first chapter.

Then there's a jump of two millennia, and the focus is on a human conflict. Earthers have arrived on this alien world, unaware of the planet's history or inhabitants, intending to establish a fueling station. But rivals from Venus, peopled by intellectual exiles from Earth, have made contact with the indigenes. They are putting together an alien/Venusian invasion force to take Earth for their own.

The main body of the text, involving a telepathic sensitive who records experiences for television audiences at home, as well as the panoply of beautiful and topless (but at least capable) women he encounters, reads like a tepid planetary adventure from the '50s, complete with two-page digressions to lovingly describe some new piece of technology.

Two and a half stars.

by Fiona Moore

Chocky, by John Wyndham

John Wyndham’s latest novel, Chocky, an expansion of a novelette of the same name published in Amazing Stories in 1963, will be something of a disappointment to fans of the blend of cutting social commentary and dystopian science fiction which has characterised most of his novels to date. It’s much more in the mode of Wyndham’s earlier short fiction, but stretched out to the point where the conceit fails to hold the reader’s attention.

Plotwise, not an awful lot happens. A young boy, Matthew Gore, develops what his father, our point-of-view character, takes to be an imaginary friend, Chocky. It’s fairly apparent to the reader, though not so much to his family and teachers, that Chocky is an alien scout who is investigating the Earth through a telepathic rapport with Matthew. Chocky asks a lot of questions about things like geography, internal combustion engines, and gender; in return Chocky teaches Matthew sophisticated mathematical concepts like binary systems, and is sometimes able to take him over and impart abilities he doesn’t naturally possess. After a couple of incidents where Chocky, working through Matthew, does something which winds up in the national press, the family comes to wider, and possibly more sinister, attention.

And… well, that’s it. The action never gets exciting enough to be a thriller. Matthew and his family are never well-developed enough for this to become a poignant character piece. Details like the fact that Matthew is adopted are introduced but never achieve wider relevance. Matthew’s collection of busybody relatives lurk in the wings as a threat to Chocky’s privacy, but that’s all they remain: a minor complication. There’s very little sense of peril or threat from Chocky as there was from the children in The Midwich Cuckoos; the alien is just here to observe, not to take over. The setup, with a cosy suburban family, suggests that Chocky will upend that cosiness and force their prejudies and banalities into the open, but we’re disappointed on that score too. Wyndham does have some of his usual fun with the foibles of middle-class British society, but he never really twists the knife.

It’s frustrating because this could have been a much more exciting and relevant book. A story in which a little boy’s life is torn apart by scientists and politicians desperate to make first contact with aliens could have been heartrending; a story in which a lonely child’s isolation is used for sinister ends by a non-human being likewise. The first part of the book focuses so heavily on the social pressure Matthew’s parents felt to have children that one thinks this will be one of the themes of the story, however, this isn’t paid off either.

But there’s not much point in speculating about what Chocky could have been. It is what it is—an overextended novelette that promises much but delivers little, and is a disappointment compared to the works which made Wyndham famous. Two out of five stars.

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 14, 1966] Alien Worlds in Precise Detail (Galactoscope)

October 14, 2021 Kris Vyas-Myall Leave a comment

The Gate of Time by Philip Jose Farmer

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

SF books are like buses, you wait forever for one you want to pick up, then many come along at once. From the weird spy drama of Kingsley Amis’ Anti-Death League, to Andre Norton’s space fantasy The Moon of Three Rings. From Brian W. Aldiss’ collection The Saliva Tree & Other Growths, to expansions from Disch and Zelazny. However, our esteemed editor steered me towards Farmer’s new novel, and I am very glad he did.

Down the Path

I am starting to see through lines in the current crop of great SF writers. J. G. Ballard has been doing his cut-up explorations of Inner Space. Harry Harrison is involved in grim satires of conservative issues. Rosel George Brown has begun writing novels that put her own unique stamp on space adventures. Whilst Roger Zelazny is applying a literary and philosophical twist to the standard scenarios of science fiction and fantasy.

However, Philip Jose Farmer is harder to pin down. What connects the fabulous tales of Riverworld, the sword & wonder novels of Robert Wolff, and the religious exploration of Night of Light? Perhaps his latest novel,The Gate of Time, holds the key?

Through the Doorway

One thing that needs to be noted before I start. This cover bears no relation to the book itself, as best as I can tell (except the existence on men and women in the story). Possibly it was originally intended for another novel and reused?

Whatever the case may be, here is the actual plot of Farmer’s work: Lt. Roger Two Hawks is a half-Iroquoian pilot in WW2. He is going on a bombing raid on the oil fields in Ploetsi when his bomber and a German fighter crash land on a strange Earth. In this one there is another war going on between the Prussian-esque Perkunisha and the Anglo-Nordic Blodland, the latter in alliance with Eastern Europe states whose people seem to be Amerinds. Both sides are aware of these strange visitors and want the technology of their planes to tip the tide in the war.

(As an aside, Two Hawks names this world "Earth 2", which is how I will refer to it going forward. As he makes mention of comic books in the text, I am assuming this a reference to the Earth 2 seen in National Comics' Flash and Justice League of America.)

Earth 2 is built on an interesting premise: what if America had remained largely underwater? A lesser writer would probably do something like all of Europe submerged into a conflict of the totalitarian states of England and France, with the brave American outlander teaching the people the true value of democracy and leading them in a revolution, where he becomes the first president of the United States of Europe.

But not Farmer; he thinks things through in much greater detail. He considers how language and culture would change, the Amerind states that would exist in Europe and Asia, the weather patterns from the differing position of the Gulf Stream and much more. As Farmer posits what is missing from the Earth 2 without the Americas, he shows how pivotal the American continent has been to world history in a vast number of ways. In doing so he creates one of his most fleshed out worlds.

Two Hawks avoids being the kind of cliché you might find in, for example, a Mack Reynolds story. He says he is as much a part of mainstream White American culture as he is Iroquoian. And he regularly rejects people’s assumptions of him, such as believing he grew up on a reservation. His knowledge is of mechanics, history and science, not the kind of spiritual and earthy traditional you usually see depicted in Amerind characters.

Whilst, by necessity, large parts of the plot are told through long conversations about the nature of Earth 2 and how it compares to Earth 1 (Two Hawks’ Earth), I never found myself being bogged down. This is a pacey thriller where I was constantly engaged and wanting to know what happened next.

This does lead to my most major issue with the text: the simplicity of plot at times. Once you get past the differences in the world, it is largely a pulpy World War Two adventure. We have Germans (by geography if not ethnicity) who are committing genocidal acts against Eastern European populations and the British fighting them. Two Hawks allies with the British stand ins, not out of some moral sense (he says he doesn’t really think there is that much difference between nations in this world) but instead because he just doesn’t like Germans. At the same time the imported German pilot, Raske, is an opportunistic villain not given any more depth than being a tricky antagonist for Two Hawks.

Farmer would also have us believe history aligns on other Earths. If things are so different, why was there also a First World War where the Perkunishans were defeated? Why does Blodland have Dravidian (Indian) bases? Why are languages so similar between the Earths? The reason just seems to be, “because”.

I don’t want to be overly harsh. There is still a lot to like. I want to also note the framing device, which is used to pull off a final twist to great effect. The only other time I can think of a similar device being used is in Pierre Boulle’s Monkey Planet.

All of this adds up to another fantastic entry in Farmer’s bibliography.

On the Other Side of the Wall

But, to return to my original question: what is it that holds together the disparate threads of Farmers fiction? I think it is the worlds themselves. Earth 2 in The Gate of Time is just as well conceived and memorable as Riverworld or Okeanas.

As such I hope we get more tales in this setting. Whether that be Two Hawks visiting more timelines, or just more of the history of Earth 2.

A solid four stars

Planet of Exile by Ursula K. LeGuin

by Jason Sacks

Imagine a world that has been colonized – but the colonizers have lived on that world so long that their descendents have nearly forgotten their original roots.

And imagine those colonizers have the ability to communicate with each other using a kind of telepathy that always keeps them in contact with each other.

And imagine a world with a sixty-year rotation around its sun, a rotation so slow that seasons take years in our time. In fact, it's a rotation so slow that grown adults have no idea what winter will be like and have never seen snow.

And imagine on that world, there are groups who are at war with each other for the limited resources on that planet. And that the colonizers are caught in the middle of that war.

And finally, imagine an independent local woman and a passionate colonist meet, become fascinated with each other, get married impulsively, and become embroiled in a war.

Sounds like the recipe for a 400-page book, right?

And yet Ursula K. LeGuin creates a whole. compelling, intriguing world in a mere 125 pages in Planet of Exile.

Earlier this year I enthused over LeGuin's debut novel Rocannon's World, praising the author for her strengths in building a complex fictional environment and for bridging the gap between fantasy and science fiction. Planet of Exile builds on those strengths, taking readers to a world that seems vivid on the page, with complex interrelationships, intriguing characters and a background which seems to go back hundreds of years.

LeGuin smartly starts the book by anchoring readers in the experiences of the independent woman, Rolery, who is wandering through a forest at the "last moonphase of autumn" (as LeGuin states it) and is startled by a barefoot runner dashing through the woods towards her native town of Tovar. But Rolery goes the opposite direction, towards the village of the "farborn"; forbidden, mysterious, a place she could scarcely imagine but which holds great fascination for her. In that farborn village, she meets a farborn man named Jacob Agat whose life changes her and changes the city of Tovar.

Planet of Exile is an odd book in part because this relationship feels so insubstantial and unreal. This mismatched couple don't fall in love as much as they fall into admiration, or caring, or simply desperately feel the need for deep companionship. Lesser writers might have created a simple Romeo and Juliet type relationship between Rolery and Agat. But LeGuin's ambitions seem well beyond the obvious cliché and instead she explores more complex ideas like assimilation, battles for resources, and the complex struggles to thrive in an alien environment.

If LeGuin merely touches upon those ideas rather than dwells on them, well, blame that on the page length and consider this young author may merely need to grow into fully exploring these concepts.

About half this book is taken up with the battles between the barbaric nomads, the Gaal, and the people of Tevara. The battles are often seen as slivers, in fragments, through the eyes of the different characters of this book rather than in omniscient form. As such, the events feel extraordinarily vivid. I was deeply struck by a scene of the invading Gaal force and their supporters so large they filled one large valley from end to end, with more of them coming. And a rooftop battle reflected a wonderful combination of Errol Flynn style derring-do and alien landscapes.

All of this thoughtful inventiveness makes for a tremendously entertaining and tremendously dense read, accentuated by LeGuin's empathetic and often poetic writing which has a fantastic knack for bringing alien situations to life. There's a kind of ecstatic forward-hurtling beauty in a paragraph like this one that had me entranced:

She the stranger, the foreigner, of alien blood and mind, did not share his power or his conscience or his knowledge or his exile. She shared nothing at all with him, but had met him and joined with him wholly and immediately across the gulf of thier great difference: as if it were the difference, the alienness between them, that let them meet, and that in joining together, freed them.

Ultimately, Planet of Exile is a novel of aspirations not quite met. War is fought and attacks repelled at great cost. Relationships start but never reach an emotionally satisfying happy ending. Many complex questions are raised but never quite answered. And the character of Rolery is intriguing in her independence and agency, in her impulsive decisions and her steadfast curiousity, but she never becomes the three-dimensional character LeGuin obviously saw in her mind.

I concluded my review of Ms. LeGuin's earlier novel with a wish to read more novels that would realize the promise of this exciting new author. I am left now in a similar position, albeit perhaps closer to that realization.

3.5 stars

[Note: the flip side of this Double, Mankind Under the Leash, is an expansion of the 1965 story White Fang Goes Dingo (Ed.)]

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[August 14, 1966] So Bad It's Hilarious (The Star Magicians by Lin Carter/The Off-Worlders by John Baxter (Ace Double G-588))

August 14, 2021 Cora Buhlert 4 Comments

by Cora Buhlert

Science Fiction at the Newsstand

Issue 258 of Perry Rhodan features the fan favourite character Gucky the mouse beaver on the cover, expertly drawn by Johnny Bruck.

Ever since its debut almost five years ago, West German science fiction has been synonymous with the dime novel series Perry Rhodan. Issue 258 of Perry Rhodan came out this week and so far, the series shows no sign of faltering.

Success breeds imitators and so there have been challengers for the crown of West Germany's premier science fiction series. The first challenger Mark Powers was hampered by old fashioned and inconsistent plots and so the series was discontinued in 1964, though Mark Powers still occasionally pops up in the pages of the anthology series Utopia Zukunftsroman.

This month, a new challenger appeared on West German newsstands. Ren Dhark is penned by former Perry Rhodan writer Kurt Brand and published by Kelter Verlag. Only one issue has come out so far, but what I've read looks promising.

The first issue of Ren Dhark, the latest Perry Rhodan challenger

The story begins in the far off future of 2051 AD, when overpopulation – a popular theme in current science fiction, as Harry Harrison's Make Room, Make Room! and several of the stories collected in Orbit 1 show – forces humanity to look for a new home among the stars. So the starship Galaxis under the command of Captain Sam Dhark (no reason is given for the odd spelling of the name) departs for Deneb with fifty thousand colonists. However, the time effect drive malfunctions, stranding the Galaxis in the depths of space, turned into an involuntary generation ship.

Eventually, the Galaxis, now commanded by the titular Ren Dhark, son of the late captain, manages to find a habitable planet. But their problems have only just begun, because the planet in question is not only habitable, but also inhabited…

Ren Dhark started out promising enough, though not particularly innovative. Nonetheless, I will certainly haunt the newsstand on the lookout for issue 2.

Science Fiction at the Spinner Rack

However, my main source of new science fiction is still the spinner rack at my local import bookstore. And during my last visit, I managed to snap up the latest Ace Double, number G-588 to be exact, which includes The Off-Worlders by John Baxter and The Star Magicians by Lin Carter.

The Off-Worlders has just been serialised in New Worlds under the title The God Killers, so I'll just point you to Mark Yon's review of the novel and delve right into the other half of this Ace Double.

Most readers of the Journey will probably know Lin Carter mainly from his "Our Man in Fandom" columns in If, but he is also an up and coming science fiction and fantasy writer. Erika Frank reviewed his sword and sorcery novel The Wizard of Lemuria last year. Now, Carter has set his sights on space opera, though barbarians still feature prominently.

A Familiar History

Amazingly, Jack Gaughan's cover is an accurate illustration of a scene in the novel.

The Star Magicians begins with one of those dreaded information laden prologues which occasionally afflict science fiction novels. In fact, when I read the capsule history of the fall of the Great Carina Empire, I briefly wondered whether I had accidentally picked up a later book in an ongoing series.

But even if there is no previous novel in the series, the history of the Carina Empire, which is beset by barbarians at its borders and eventually breaks apart and descends into a new dark age, will seem familiar to anybody who knows even a lick of history, for here is the fall of the Roman Empire replayed once again in outer space.

However, one planet stands firm against the new dark age and the barbarian Star Rovers: the planet Parlion, which is inhabited by a group called the White Wizards, who preserve science and technology and are considered magicians by their less enlightened neighbours. If that story seems familiar, it's probably because you've read it before when it was still called Foundation and penned by Isaac Asimov.

Naked Bodies and Tortured Metaphors

Once the actual plot begins, the novel becomes more engaging, though not necessarily better or more original. The story proper opens in an arena, where a would-be Conan gladiator is fighting against an alien monster, while the barbarian warlord Drask looks on and fondles a naked girl.

The naked girl is a captive princess, though you wouldn't know it from the first chapter. Carter repeatedly starts and then fails to describe the young woman, getting sidetracked by reminiscing about the conquest of the planet in a pitched space battle, describing the chafing and sweat-soaked leather and iron garb of a barbarian warrior and lovingly detailing the manly vigour and magnificent body of the gladiator (who will be dead within two pages, his "nakedness clothed in dripping scarlet").

Here's a typical example of Lin Carter's tortured prose. If this is too much for you, best bail out now, because the entire book is like that:

Above, in the royal box, Drask reclined at his ease on the satin cushions, half his cynical attention on the tragic drama unfolding below, and half on the trembling young girl beside him, whose nude breasts he was idly fondling. A philosopher in his rough way, the Warlord of the Star Rovers mused on the changeful ways of Fate. In this moment of time the young Argionid swordsman was filled with robust life, bursting with manly vigor in the full hot morning of his youth… in the next moment, his splendid, virile body would be an awful bundle of bloody rags, crushed in the inexorable jaws of the slavering thard.

We are toys at the feet of the gods, he thought.

When Carter finally remembers to describe the young princess – or rather her breasts – he compares them to "warm, white fruit", at which point I wondered whether Carter has ever seen a naked woman, or eaten fruit, for that matter.

After the would-be Conan has met his demise, we are finally introduced to the actual protagonist, Perion of North Hollis (which sounds like a stop on the London Underground rather than a city on an alien planet), a minstrel sentenced to die in the arena for treason. However, Perion manages to outwit the monster and is pardoned and even invited to a feast of the Star Rovers, where he further ingratiates himself by stopping the captive princess from stabbing the warlord Drask. Her attempt at revenge foiled, the princess stabs herself and is forgotten within a page. We never even learn her name nor anything about her appearance except that she has breasts.

Lin Carter

White Wizards and Green Goddesses

What follows is a clunky and exposition laden dialogue, which not only repeats information we already got in the equally clunky prologue, but also reveals that there is only one person who can stand against the mighty warlord Drask, namely Calastor, one of the White Wizards of Parlion. Not only does Calastor have superior quasi-magic technology, he also has dozens of minions willing to do his bidding. Worse, no one knows what he looks like. "For aught we know, he might be standing among us at the very moment," mutters one of the few named Star Rovers at the feast. Anybody who has read Isaac Asimov's Foundation series may develop certain suspicions at this point.

Since the princess committed suicide, Drask is in need of a new bed companion and picks a random dancing girl, who promptly tries to stab him again. Even Drask, who's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, thinks that two assassination attempts in one night are a little much to be a coincidence. So he examines the dagger with which the girl tried to stab him and finds a glowing green stone, a talisman dedicated to the Green Goddess of Malkh. The dancing girl is one of her priestesses. For it turns out that Drask has not one but two sworn enemies in the galaxy, the White Wizard and the Green Goddess. Of course, it might have been helpful if Carter had mentioned that tidbit of information before.

The interrogation of the dancing girl, whose name is revealed to be Lurn, reveals nothing, because Lurn downs a potion that – no, this time around, the potion doesn't kill her, it only makes her fall asleep. When the sleeping Lurn is taken to the dungeon for further interrogation, she vanishes into thin air.

Lurn reappears on the next day, hidden in Perion's baggage, which leads to both her and Perion being arrested. During their interrogation, Perion is unmasked as none other than Calastor, the White Wizard and sworn enemy of Drask. This turn of events might have been a genuine surprise, if Carter hadn't borrowed it wholesale from "The Mule" part of Isaac Asimov's Foundation trilogy. And just in case you failed to notice the parallels, Perion is even shown with a (pack)mule shortly before his arrest. In fact, the only surprise is that the reveal happens halfway through the novel rather than at the end, as I expected.

Calastor and Lurn escape Drask by teleporting to safety and engage in yet another exchange of long explanations aboard Calastor's spaceship. Calastor reveals that he must stop Drask and the Star Rovers soon, because they are threatening the planet that the White Wizards of Parlion have picked out as the nucleus of the new galactic empire they are trying to build.

Smoke and Mirrors

The story now heads to Xulthoom, the planet of mists and also the planet that drives men mad. Xulthoom is a fascinating setting with its ancient ruins and perpetual mists and I wonder what e.g. Leigh Brackett could do with it. Lin Carter does not nearly have Leigh Brackett's skills, but even he manages to convey the spooky atmosphere of Xulthoom.

Calastor uses his quasi-magical science to mentally destabilise the Star Rovers and turn them against each other, while gizmo-speaking to Lurn and spouting an amount of nonsense about psionics that would impress even John W. Campbell.

Due to Calastor's manipulations, the Star Rovers go mad one by one and begin to hear voices. Some literally die of fear. In the end, even Drask himself hears a voice, supposedly that of the Green Goddess, warning him to return to the Rim Stars whence he came or suffer the consequences. However, the message from the Green Goddess is not Calastor's doing. There is another power at work here.

Spooked by the message of the Green Goddess, Drask finally gives the order to abandon Xulthoom – no, not to go home, but to conquer the next planet, the one planet that the White Wizards want to keep the Star Rovers away from at all costs.

Calastor summons some help from Parlion and together the White Wizards attempt to dissuade the Star Rovers from travelling onwards by projecting an illusion of space dragons attacking the fleet. However, the Star Rover shaman Abdekiel, an offensive Asian stereotype who is frequently likened to a "butter yellow buddha", sees through the ruse.

So Calastor and his companions teleport aboard the Star Rover flagship to face Drask and his men directly. The White Wizards use their mental powers to disarm the barbarians, while Calastor gets involved in a prolonged and remarkably well described swordfight.

The standoff is interrupted by the Green Goddess herself, who thoroughly smites the Star Rover fleet, a scene strikingly illustrated by Jack Gaughan on the cover. Finally, the Goddess teleports the adversaries away, metes out punishment to Drask and gives her blessing to the marriage of Calastor and Lurn (who turns out to be a princess as well), who will rule together over the world that will become the nucleus of the new empire.

An Unholy Mess

Lin Carter was aiming for Isaac Asimov's Foundation as written by Robert E. Howard. However, Carter has the skill of neither Asimov nor Howard and so the result is just a mess.

One technique that Carter borrows from Robert E. Howard is Howard's tendency to begin a story with a supporting character before his barbarian adventurer Conan steps onto the scene. But while Howard never leaves any doubt that Conan is the hero of the story, Carter seems unsure which of his characters is the protagonist. By rights, Calastor and Lurn should be the stars, but Calastor vanishes for chapters at a time and Lurn never even acquires a personality, so Drask, the villain, is the closest thing to a protagonist this unholy mess of a novel has.

Make no mistake, this is a terrible book. It's certainly the worst book I have ever reviewed for Galactic Journey. The plot is hackneyed, the prose is tortured and so purple that it almost crosses over into ultraviolet. In fact, this book is so awful that I wonder how desperate Ace must have been to publish it. If there was a Hugo Award for the worst science fiction novel, The Star Magicians would be the uncontested winner.

However, this novel has one redeeming feature: it is at least entertainingly terrible. In fact, the book is utterly hilarious. I was giggling the whole time I read it and regaled friends and family members with reading Lin Carter's awful prose out loud. If The Star Magicians were a parody, it would be absolutely brilliant. But unfortunately, it's supposed to be a serious space opera adventure.

I'm sure there is something that Lin Carter excels at and I hope that he will eventually find it. However, writing science fiction is not it.

One and a half stars

Workers at the AG Weser shipyard in Bremen are enjoyaing a well deserved break in the summer sun.

Meanwhile, these three young ladies are enjoying a swim in the Stadionbad public pool in Bremen.

Rosel George Brown's new hit novel, Sibyl Sue Blue, is much better than Lin Carter's book. You might want to get the taste out with it!

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[April 18, 1966] Rocannon and the Kar-Chee

April 18, 2021 Jason Sacks 8 Comments

by Jason Sacks

One of my favorite sci-fi publishers these days is Ace Books. We've talked about their double novels a lot on the Journey, so I'm sure you're well aware of them, but I'd like to take a moment to consider just how delightful their line has been over the last decade-plus.

For the last 15 years or so, Ace's flip books, or tête-bêches if you want to get all French about them, have presented a wide spectrum of science fiction from some of the grand masters. Asimov, Brackett, deCamp and Dick have all been published under the Ace banner along with more modern writers like John Brunner, Kenneth Bulmer and Damon Knight. And while some of these little novels haven't been great – Agent of the Unknown, to choose one at random, has a fun cover but an uninspiring story – others are thoroughly delightful.

And best of all, all these little novels are all short! Most are 120 pages or less: a quick couple hours' read while on the bus or after school.

Whether delivered as an opportunity to repackage Ziff-Davis novels, or a chance for a young writer to experiment with his or her craft, or a chance for an older writer to burn off an unpublished tale, the reader gets real value from his or her 35¢ (in the '50s) or 50¢ today. And whether the reader discovers a nice treasure or total drek, the low price point and quick-read style of the books seldom leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

The biggest thrill for me with these Ace novels is to get to see a growing science fiction talent spread his or her wings a bit and deliver a terrific first novel. Rocannon's World is exactly that kind of thrill. Written by up-and-coming author Ursula K. LeGuin, this expansion of an earlier Amazing Stories tale shows a passion for alien cultures that demonstrates a unique and intriguing viewpoint.

Rocannon's World is a kind of sci-fi/fantasy hybrid. Our protagonist is Gaverel Rocannon, an ethnologist on a mission to explore the biology of the planet Fomalhaut II. Though Fomalhaut II is nominally under an exploration embargo by the League of All Worlds, the League's enemy establishes a base on Formalhut to battle them.

If you're thinking this sounds like the launch of one of those novels all about the lone hero fighting and defeating a staunch enemy, you're both right and wrong. Eventually Rocannon is able to win, but he only does so after a long and arduous — and exciting — journey, and only after causing himself great trauma and pain.

Formalhut is an intriguing planet, and LeGuin gives this planet an clever sort of fantasy feel. Rocannon and his native companions fly on "windsteeds," giant flying cat creatures, he encountrers dwarflike Gdemiar, rodent like Kiemhir, elven Fiia, even nightmarish creatures just called Winged Ones. It all feels like a bit of lesser Tolkien, and that gives this brief book a lot of its charm.

But charming as this book is, LeGuin wrote something more interesting and complex than a simple story about a battle on another planet. Rocannon goes through an archetypical journey to his heroism. He starts a bit feckless but soon learns the importance of his journey. After enlisting the help of newfound friends, Rocannon gains confidence and trust. His moment of transformation happens when he goes into a mountainside cave. While in the cave, he encounters "the Old One", a strange entity who grants Rocannon "mindspeech", or telepathy, in exchange for giving himself to the planet.

That mindspeech is a blessing and curse, granting Rocannon the ability to win his war but also granting him the chance to psychically feel the pain of all the beings he has killed.

All of this is heady stuff that expands on the considerable promise Ms. LeGuin has shown in her short stories. Though the novel has some flaws, most of them are tied to its abbreviated length. There's a feeling throughout of playing with key ideas and concepts, a kind of authorial exploration of her own mind. I hope we get to return to this world, but even more I hope the author has more good novels in her.

Rocannon's World 3.5 stars

[Note: This novel appears to be a sequel of sorts to Dowry of the Angyar, reviewed in these pages two years ago (ed.)]

I was surprised and happy to discover I liked the flip side of this double novel nearly as much. I've never been a big fan of Avram Davidson's stories in the mags, finding them a bit wordy and dull. Somehow, though, this novel clicked in for me much more than his short stories usually do, and I found myself intrigued and captived by a lot of The Kar-Chee Reign.

Kar-Chee takes place in a far-future Earth. Hollowed out by over-mining and ecological collapse, Earth has been abandoned and forgotten by her children who have long since settled on distant planets. Only a small number of humans remain on the planet, eking out a small subsistence lifestyle. Those humans, though, are imperiled by an insectlike alien race called the Kar-Chee, out to strip Earth of its few remaining minerals, for reasons completely unknown to humans.

As with the LeGuin novel, you can probably guess how Mr. Davidson's story will play out: a group of humans rally their forces, gather up their courage, build smart weapons and begin to beat back the invaders and reclaim Earth's birthright.

Like Rocannon, the pleasure in Kar-Chee lies in its journey, not in its destination. Davidson delivers large amounts of expository text in this book, giving readers the background of Earth's downfall in a lyrical style that feels as evocative as stories told around a campfire. Those sections of this novel have a suprising power and I found myself missing the expository elements when the book settled back into its action-packed elements. I wonder if Mr. Davidson has any interest in writing a future history chronicle, because I would love to read something like that.

The Kar-Chee Reign: 3 stars

The April '66 Ace Double turned out to be… well, aces, or at least a Jack and a Queen. Who knows what the next publication will bring? I'll be haunting the paperback rack at my local Woolworth's till the next book arrives.

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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[March 12, 1966] In Aid of Earth and Other Worlds (Jack Vance's Ace Double and Tom Purdom's latest)

March 12, 2021 Vicki Lucas Leave a comment

The Brains of Earth/The Many Worlds of Magnus Randolph

[Every so often, the Journey features a guest reviewer. In this case, it is Keith Henson, a friend of our own Vicki Lucas. Keith works at Heinrich GeoeXploration, studies for his degree in Electrical Engineering at the University of Arizona, and owns two buildings with two apartments each, in one of which he lives. His interests include pyrotechnics and amateur rockets.

(Keith's in the cowboy hat)

He also digs scientificition, and he happened to pick up the new Ace Double hot off the shelves. And so, without further ado, may I present Keith!]

by Keith Henson

Heading home from work I stopped off at my favorite bookstore. There near the bottom of the SF section is a new Ace Double, both by Jack Vance, 45 cents. Vance is one of the authors I read with pleasure since running into a copy of The Dying Earth.

Eliminating Mind Parasites

The Brains of Earth is a somewhat conventional SF story, with unlikeable aliens, and competent (for the most part) humans. The story starts with a description of events at the end of a war to rid the alien population of mind parasites (nopals) on the planet Ixix. This motivates the local aliens (Tauptu) to travel to Earth, which is saturated with nopals, and kidnap a scientist, one Paul Burke. The aliens remove his nopal (a painful task). They then assign Burke an impossible task (clear Earth of nopals) and return him to Earth. The rest of the story plays out as Burke discovers an even more serious mind parasite, the ghre, which are kept at bay by the nopals. Burke convinces the aliens that their problems are even worse than they think, and they set out on an expedition seeking the physical location of the mental projections.

I found it to be a decent story, consistent with good dialog, if not quite up to the standards of The Dying Earth. Usually you can open a Vance story to any place and identify it as Vance by reading a few paragraphs. I tried this with The Brains of Earth and it didn't work. Still it's hard to award Vance less than three stars.

Short Stories of a Problem Solver

The other side of the double is The Many Worlds of Magnus Ridolph, a series of short stories set in exotic places (mostly planets). The stories feature an elderly goateed gentleman problem solver in detective mode. (Vance also writes mysteries.) The stories usually start with Ridolph in a financial bind of some kind and he outsmarts the people who took advantage of him, all in supercilious tones and Jack Vance's unique literary style. Applying the reading test to identify the story as Vance's, here is a sample that does work:

Magnus Ridolph sighed, glanced at his liqueur (Blue Ruin). This would be the last of these; hereafter he must drink vin ordinaire, a fluid rather like tarragon vinegar, prepared from the fermented rind of a local cactus.

Magnus Ridolph is more fun than the other side of the double, four stars. Altogether well worth the 45 cents.

The Tree Lord of Imeten, by Tom Purdom

by John Boston

Tom Purdom has had a dozen stories scattered among the SF magazines over the past near-decade, and one prior novel (and Ace Double half), I Want The Stars. His second novel is also Doubled, back to back with Samuel Delany’s Empire Star, reviewed last month. It’s called The Tree Lord Of Imeten, and is decorated with a John Schoenherr cover as dispirited and unattractive as that of its other half.

by John Schoenherr

The novel, however, could not be more different in style and spirit from Delany’s. Purdom is solid, Delany mercurial; Purdom plays the game, Delany plays with the game.

The story opens in a human colony on an extrasolar planet, with protagonist Harold hiding behind a tractor with his bow and arrows, so the people who killed his father and best friend won’t shoot him too. His childhood friend Joanne appears and conveys the bad guys’ offer: they can leave, with food and equipment, and go down from the human-inhabited plateau to the jungly lowlands, where there are sentient—or at least structure-building—inhabitants that nobody knows much about.

But what are these people on the plateau fighting about, and how did it get this bitter? It’s not explained, which seems incongruous at first, but as the book progresses, it becomes clear that that’s part of the point.

Harold and Joanne, pulling a wheeled cart full of supplies, first encounter the Itiji, sentient catlike animals who attack and are driven away, but clearly have language if not hands. They then are found and captured by the other species, the Imetens, tree-dwelling primates with hands as well as language, the beginnings of ironworking, and of course conflict among tribes. They also enslave the Itiji to pull their carts and bear their burdens.

Harold first persuades the Imetens that he can be useful to them, and attains a reasonably safe and privileged position for Joanne and himself. But he hates slavery, and soon enough contrives an escape for himself and Joanne and a number of Itiji slaves. The Imetens do not take emancipation lightly, and war ensues. Harold must help the Itiji by creating warmaking technology that they can use without hands, under his leadership of course, and ultimately brings peace after heroic feats at arms.

The story is most basically about people cast out of their society who have to find a place in another one, since, as Purdom hints earlier (and notwithstanding Harold’s lone heroics), humans on their own are nothing in the long run. That’s why Purdom was right not to explain what the colonists were fighting over; it can never matter again for his characters, who are now committed to a new life in a new tribe.

This is a well worked out book, dense with detail and invention, but the latter parts drag a bit, and also revert towards the standard fare of exotic-planet opera, with long descriptions of battle strategy and hand to hand combat and Harold’s exploits with sword and shield. The ending also feels a bit rushed. Three and a half stars, and high expectations for this promising writer’s future work.

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[February 10, 1966] Within and without (Isaac Asimov's Fantastic Voyage and Samuel R. Delany's Empire Star)

February 10, 2021 GalacticJourney 1 Comment

[This month's first Galactoscope features an esteemed pair of science fiction novels. The first is by one of the genre's most accomplished veterans, the other by one of its newest and brightest lights…]

by Gideon Marcus

Fantastic Voyage, by Isaac Asimov

A defector from beyond the Iron Curtain lies dying on the operating table, a terrible secret in his brain. Only an operation from the inside has any chance of success. Thus begins a fantastic voyage in which five souls in a midget submarine are miniaturized and injected into the patient. Their destination: the blood clot that threatens the defecting scientist's mind.

A myriad of biological wonders and horrors awaits the team, from antibodies to circulatory typhoons. But even more dangerous to the mission is the possibility of a saboteur on board. Is it Owens, pilot and designer of the Proteus? Duval, the brilliant but antisocial surgeon? His expert laser technician assistant, Peterson? The cartographer of the circulatory system, Michaels? Or could it be Grant, the agent dispatched to watch the other four?

And can the saboteur be stopped before the miniaturization wears off, killing the patient and potentially the crew?

Voyage marks the author's return to novel-length fiction after a nearly a decade. The circumstances are unusual; I understand the book is actually a novelization of a movie script, though unusually, the movie is not due out for many months. Dr. A is, of course, a great choice for the job. With his chemistry and general scientific background, he renders just plausible what will likely be enjoyable folderol on the screen. He combines a vivid depiction of the inside of the human body with his usual competent pacing and plotting. And as an old hand at mysteries (he essentially invented the still meager science fiction/mystery hybrid genre), he does a good job turning a science fiction adventure into a whodunnit.

I suspect what I don't like about the book mostly derives from the original script. I found a lot of the action sequences a bit tedious. Frankly, I might have been happier with a book that was just a guided tour of the human body from within, so deft is the Good Doctor with his nonfiction writing. I also found Grant's incessant pursuit of Ms. Peterson (first name, Cora, like our esteemed fellow traveler) annoying — just let her do her job, man! Also, only two thirds of the book are devoted to the actual voyage, insertion not taking place until page 70. The build-up to the action feels a bit drawn out.

Nevertheless, it's a fine book and it's great to see Asimov flexing his fictional muscles again.

Three and a half stars.

Empire Star, by Samuel R. Delany

by John Boston

Samuel R. Delany has been quietly pumping out Ace paperbacks for a while, building a reputation from the bottom up. He’s up to six now with the newest, Empire Star, and I thought I’d better pay some attention.

by Jack Gaughan

Empire Star is your basic unprepossessing—actually, pretty ugly—half of an Ace Double, just under 100 pages, with generically goofy blurb: "He warped time and space to deliver a message to eternity." But open it up and it features epigraphs from Proust and W.H. Auden (a first for Ace, I'm sure), and then introduces us to Comet Jo. What? Is this the new Captain Future?

Fortunately not. Comet Jo is a yokel, galactically speaking, living on a satellite (of what, it’s not clear) in the Tau Ceti system. He’s physically graceful, with claws on one hand, and his hair is long and either wheat-colored or yellow depending on which paragraph you’re reading. He carries an ocarina wherever he goes. He works tending the underground fields of plyasil, more crudely known as jhup, “an organic plastic that grows in the flower of a mutant strain of grain that only blooms with the radiation that comes from the heart of Rhys in the darkness of the caves.” He got his nickname wandering away from home to look at the stars.

One day Comet Jo hears a menacing noise, sees a devil-kitten (eight legs, three horns, hisses when upset) which leads him to where “green slop frothed and flamed,” with writhing, dying figures visible in it. One of them breaks out—Comet Jo’s double—and tells him he needs to take a message to Empire Star, but dies before he can say what the message is. The kitten rescues a small object from the now-cooled and evaporating puddle. This is Jewel—“multicolored, multifaceted, multiplexed, and me”—i.e., the narrator, who we later learn is a “crystallized Tritovian.” Say what? High-powered miniature computer with a personality—at least that will do.

So Comet Jo (hereinafter denominated “CJ”) goes to the spaceport the next morning to head for Empire Star, which he knows nothing about, to deliver a message he doesn’t have. This farmhand gets hired on the spot to work on a spaceship, no questions asked. On the way he encounters the strikingly dressed San Severina, who tells him he’s a beautiful boy but he needs to comb his hair, gives him a comb, and offers him diction lessons. She proves to be the owner of the ship he’s working on, and of the seven Lll aboard—sentient slaves who are great builders and project their emotions of great sadness to anyone who gets close to them. Owning these slaves is not a lot of fun.

Why not free them? “Economics.” San Severina explains that after a war she has “eight worlds, fifty-two civilizations, and thirty-two thousand three hundred and fifty-seven complete and distinct ethical systems to rebuild,” and can’t do it without the enslaved Lll. She also tells CJ he has a long journey ahead and has a message to deliver quite precisely. How she knows this is not explained, and CJ still doesn’t know what the message is. This is one of many incidents in which the people CJ encounters seem to know more about his mission than he does.

During these events, and later, CJ is told that he and his culture are simplex, as opposed to complex and multiplex, terms which are tossed around throughout the book without being defined very precisely. (Where is A.E. van Vogt when you need him? Never mind, forget I said it.) We are told that multiplex means being able to see things from different points of view, and also it seems to have something to do with pattern recognition. Also the multiplex ask questions when they need to. It certainly means becoming more mentally capable. A big part of the story is CJ’s getting more plexy with experience.

San Severina leaves him on Earth on his own, but advises him to “find the Lump.” Say what? Only clue is it’s “not a people.” The Lump—which turns out to be a linguistic ubiquitous multi-plex, also part Lll, in the guise of a portly man named Oscar—finds him. They set out in separate spaceships, but CJ quickly bumps into something—the Geodetic Survey Station, whose occupants are up to volume 167, Bba to Bbaab—and narrowly escapes the wrath of a comical and homicidal pedant. At their destination, in orbit around the inhospitable planet Tantamount, CJ and Oscar encounter the poet Ni Ty Lee, who discloses that he worked on Rhys in the jhup fields before, and also played the ocarina once, which mightily disturbs CJ, and leads into a disquisition by the Lump on the works of Theodore Sturgeon, four thousand years gone by the time of the story. Ni Ty Lee discloses more things he has done before CJ, including hanging out with San Severina, and CJ gets even more upset. Ni isn’t happy either; he exclaims, “Always returning, always coming back, always the same things over and over and over!” Hint, in neon!

Enough synopsis. The book continues in similar style. It should be clear by now that large parts of this story make very little sense, starting with CJ’s determination to leave his farm job and head for the galactic capital with a yet-nonexistent message, because he was told to do so under the most bizarre and alarming circumstances. But that’s OK because it’s not really a story in the usual sense. Rather, it’s a story about a story, or about Story, or about the author moving game pieces about a board, each piece decorated with a piece of the stock imagery of pulp SF. (Towards the end there’s even a Prince leading a spaceborne army to take over Empire Star, and the heiress to the throne struggling to thwart him.) Maybe it’s better described as a confection. There is of course a revelation at the end that purports to rationalize everything, and does to some extent, but it’s almost beside the point.

My patience for this sort of construct is generally limited, but Empire Star is extremely well done. It’s enormously clever, with many pleasing and colorful displays along the way; there’s much more detail and incident than the foregoing half-synopsis hints, even if much remains unexplained or implausible. Enormous cleverness colorfully rendered is never to be sneezed at. Four stars.

[Note: We will have to read Tom Purdom's The Tree Lord of Imeton to finish this Ace Double, and also because, well, it's Tom Purdom! Stay tuned…(ed.)]

The Journey is once again up for a Best Fanzine Hugo nomination — and its founder is up for several other awards as well! If you've got a Worldcon membership, or if you just want to see what Gideon's done that's Hugo-worthy, please read his Hugo Eligibility article! Thank you for your continued support.

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Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 22, 1965] Foul! (September Galactoscope)

September 22, 2020 Jason Sacks 1 Comment

This month's Galactoscope features a mixed bag of mixed bags: one Ace double and one Gamma that barely manages a solitary single…

By Jason Sacks

We, the Venusians, by John Rackham

I picked up the latest Ace Double Novel at my local Woolworth's the other day, and had to share my opinions of the two novels with my fine science fiction friends.

On one side of the double was the deliriously wacky cover shown below, which actually is a scene in John Rackham's meandering but intriguing new novel. By my reckoning, this is at least the third Ace double this prolific author has delivered over the last two years, and though I haven't read either Watch on Peter or Danger from Vega yet, this slim novel – a true Ace double at 137 pages – makes me want to try them out too.

The main character of We, the Venusians is Anthony Taylor, a man who feels himself out of place on a future version of Earth. Though the timing of that future isn't revealed in the novel, it's clear he lives in a bit of a dystopian world. Advertising is pervasive and unavoidable, commerce and greed rule the world, and the arts are trivialized and mocked.

This all matters because Taylor is an accomplished musician and the owner of a small club in which he plays Liszt, Schubert, Bach and the other classical artists to an ever-diminishing tribe of listeners. He is truly a man on the outside of his time. That's why he has a mixed reaction when a strange man wanders into Taylor's club and offers an obscene amount of money to travel to the Terran colony on Venus to play music, Taylor is both intrigued and repulsed by the opportunity. He is intrigued by chance to get rich quick and the chance to make a new start. Taylor is also repulsed by the idea because he has a secret he fears will be revealed on his new home: though his skin appears human color, he is actually a Greenie, a green-skinned Venusian native.

Through a series of plot machinations, Taylor does end up journeying to Venus along with two other musicians, one of whom, named Martha Merrill, is a beautiful woman who possesses an unbelievable singing voice. They also discover that the human colonists have enslaved thousands of apparently mindless Greenies to do menial labor in order to keep the colony buzzing along. Taylor and Merrill escape the human domes into the native lands, and both performers literally go native – Martha is also secretly a Venusian.

Though Merrill soon dies, Taylor finds his destiny among his own people and ends up becoming a force for revolution among his adopted people against the colonists.

One of the most intriguing elements of the book is the beans which grow on Venus and provide nutrition and energy for the people living there. While the Venusians protect their precious resource carefully, the humans try to exploit the beans and export the incredibly valuable food back to Terra. This element of the plot had an intriguing post-colonial feel to it. It's easy for the reader to substitute tobacco or silk as the exploited resource in our own history. It's a smart choice by Rackham to bring in that idea, as it adds resonance and contrast to the human/greenie struggle.

We, the Venusians is full of interesting ideas, from its resonances to the Civil Rights movement of today to its treatment of Indians in the west to the ways pop music overwhelms classics. Rackham keeps his story focused on character, and that keeps the reader involved in this novel. I enjoyed reading how Anthony Taylor grows and changes as this book goes along, and that growth gives this book a lot of its energy.

That said, the book rambles and wanders a bit too much and seems to frequently lose its focus. I know it's anathema to us fans of Ace doubles, but another 20 pages of meat would have made this book's bones stronger.

3 stars.

The Water of Thought, by Fred Saberhagen

Fred Saberhagen is another science fiction writer who has settled into a journeyman status at this point. He's appeared in a number of the science fiction magazines in recent years, and his "Berserker" stories have started to gain more attention from aficionados. My colleague David Levinson has praised Saberhagen's ability to pull off modern fiction within the framework of space opera, and that skill is well on display in The Water of Thought.

Like We, the Venusians, Saberhagen's novel takes place on an alien planet on which native peoples are in conflict with Terrans. The planet Kappa is a kind of garden of Eden, a paradise and perfect place for rest and relaxation for exhausted Space Force planeteers. It's also the home to native peoples and a type of water which provides amazing changes in people. When a planeteer named Jones samples the water, he goes crazy and disappears from the colony. Planeteer Boris Brazil must follow to investigate.

Jones becomes megalomaniacal under the influence of the "water of thought", and rapidly becomes an addict. Jones is constantly seeking his next drink, like a heroin addict looking for his next fix. When Jones forces Brazil to drink the water, it has a different effect on him. Brazil is nearly paralyzed and loses his free will while in proximity to Jones, but does not become addicted. The battle between the two men, and the story of the humans and natives caught in the middle, is an important part of the book.

Like We the Venusians, this book has a natural resource as a key point of conflict between humans and Kappans as the water is seen by some as a resource to be exploited for personal gain. The human mayor of Kappa sells the water as a drug, trying to earn a neat profit off of a local resource. Meanwhile a human scientist has slightly more noble goals: he believes the water may help the local hominid species gain intelligence and gain their freedom from slavery by the natives.

The Water of Thought is a more complex book than it seems at first glance, and reveals some of the shallowness of Rackham's world. Where Rackham draws a pretty clear line between humans and greenies on Venus, Saberhagen presents Kappa as a more complex world. Kappa is a place where the lines between hero and villain are somewhat unclear, where everybody is exploiting each other in some ways, and in which the precious natural resource has ambiguous effects.

This book adroitly shows Saberhagen's skills at mixing space opera elements with a psychological and philosophical elements. The Water of Thought feels contemporary for our year of 1965, a time in which the smartest people are embracing ideas of the past but providing new approaches to those ideas.

4 stars.

Gamma #5: The Worst Sci-fi Magazine Ever Published?

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Back in the early 1950s, when the market was flooded with magazines, there used to be plenty of forgettable magazines that would crank out terrible stories. Whilst it may be possible my memory is cheating me, I cannot recall a single issue as awful as this issue of Gamma:

This terrible issue of Gamma starts as it means to go on with another lurid cover from John Healey. I had hoped the style from the last issue was just due to it being a special edition calling back to the 30s, apparently this is the direction the magazine is going, with it illustrating the lead novella.

John Healey himself is a talented artist apparently working on shows like Johnny Quest, so I more question the editorial choice than his skill.

Now, take a deep breath, and let us all work together to get through this issue:

Nesbit, by Ron Goulart

Taking up nearly half the magazine, the perpetually disappointing Ron Goulart returns as, apparently, the editors simply cannot resist his writing. Once again, I find my eyebrow raised at this assertion.

This novella follows an attempt to shoot a pilot for a “jungle series”. When the Hollywood lot turns out to be in use Tim McCarey goes to visit Vincent Belgraf’s estate, to convince him to let them use his transplanted jungle for the shoot. However, on arriving he cannot get ahold of Mr. Belgraf and the other residents tell him it is not for rent.

Tim believes something else is amiss and finds a gorilla running around the estate in a soldier’s outfit. It turns out that this is Nesbit Belgraf. After being attacked by his own private army he had his brain transplanted into that of a gorilla, so he will be strong enough to become emperor of the United States and battle the unseen forces secretly controlling everyone’s lives.

Whilst Tim does not agree with this fascist conspiracy-minded gorilla and his family, he agrees to help with his propaganda efforts in exchange for being able to use part of the jungle for filming. However, Nesbit is very emotional and has difficulty keeping his cool.

I have trouble working out what Goulart is trying to do with this piece. If it is a satire on fascism and right-wing conspiracy theories, it fails. For, apart from Nesbit being a gorilla, it feels more like a documentary piece, as I am fully aware of the existence of those who believe in Jewish-Communist conspiracies controlling the world. It never does anything to really contradict what the Brelgrafs say, nor even to particularly suggest that their plans to put all non-white people into concentration camps or exterminate them, is as horrific as it really is.

If it is trying to be just an adventure story, it also fails. Intelligent gorilla stories are two-a-penny in comic books but are usually mindlessly enjoyable. This is incredibly dull and padded, full of side details that another might make charming, yet Goulart makes unbelievably tedious.

I could imagine many interesting ways a more skilled writer could have taken this piece, but instead Goulart produces something truly dreadful.

An exceptionally low One Star.

Policy Conference, by Sylvia Dees and Ted White

Peter and The Chief meet in the latter’s office to discuss how they could improve “interregional relations” for their boss Old Nick (I offer no prizes for guessing who that actually is).

Whilst this story is more supernatural than science fictional it weirdly has the same conceit as the previous tale, of someone having to work on PR for a monster. It just helps highlight how unoriginal a concept this is. Mercifully, this one is very short.

One Star

Auto Suggestion, by Charles Beaumont

Returning from the earlier issues of Gamma (publishing the best story in issue 1) The Twilight Zone writer brings a story of automobiles. Unfortunately, this is definitely not his best work.

Abnar Llewellyn, a nervous driver, suddenly finds his car talking to him and it encourages him to be a more aggressive on the roads. It also starts to interfere in other areas on Abnar’s life, asking out women for him and instructing him on how to commit crimes.

I have gone on record saying I am no lover of cars, and so tales like this generally leave me cold. However, even accounting for that, I felt the story was bad. It is painfully overwritten to the point of being juvenile:

A truck’s air horn began some car lengths away. A frightening sound, a terrible sound, like the scream of a wounded elephant, and it led other smaller cars to renew their anger, shrill now beneath the dump-truck’s might below, shrill and chittering, like arboreal creatures gone mad.

Even Lovecraft would probably tell him he needed to cut out some description!

It also ends up not doing anything particularly interesting, just being a story where the protagonist does unpleasant things and may or may not be insane.

One Star

Welcome to Procyon IV, by Chester H. Carlfi

This is not a new writer to these pages but, rather, another story by longtime editor Charles E. Fritch, contributing his 4th story to the magazine.

In this vignette, Jameson and his wife are the last people left alive on the dead world of Porycon IV, with humans having wiped out the natives and disease killing the rest of the human population. On his ancient radio Jameson hears a human expedition coming but when they come to in to his cabin they discover a terrible truth about Jameson’s wife.

This feels like a pale imitation of Ray Bradbury’s Martian stories. It is more competent than the previous two pieces in the magazine, but a lot remains heavily unexplained. Also including a genocide in one line without any further thought left a bad taste in my mouth.

One and a half stars

Interest, by Richard Matheson

Cathryn is to be married to Gerald Cruickshank, yet find his parents and their house terrifying. However, she cannot work out why that is.

As stated in the introduction, this is a Poe-esque tale, although the purpose of it escapes me. Feels more like a derivative work you would find in a bad fanzine.

One Star

Lullaby and Goodnight, by George Clayton Johnson

In the aftermath of a nuclear war, an outpost of shelters is setup outside of an unnamed city. Our narrator (also unnamed) talks about the trouble Sarah Hartman is having with trying to keep her baby Adam alive in the radiation-soaked world.

This vignette marks a short foray into the New Wave from the usually conservative Gamma. It is not the best example, but the melancholic atmosphere raises it above the rest of the stories here.

Three stars

A Careful Man Dies, by Ray Bradbury

This is a reprint from New Detective Magazine from almost 19 years ago and, unfortunately, it shows.

It narrates the story of a haemophiliac author, named Rob, who keeps being sent sharp objects in the mail, in an attempt to stop his book from being published.

I know Bradbury is popular right now, but do we have to reprint everything he did in his early days? The truth is he has evolved as a writer and most of his work before 1950 is simply not that good!

This is not really a science fiction or fantasy piece, but I suppose it could be classified as uncanny horror. Unfortunately, it lacks anything interesting, it seems more like a sequence of unusual events, like reading someone’s disconnected nightmare.

The story is written in a pale imitation of Raymond Chandler’s hard-boiled style along with a second person narration. Whilst I do like experimentation this one fails for me.

Two stars

The Late Mr. Adams, by Steve Allen

Another reprint, this time from the publisher’s own collection, Fourteen for Tonight. This is my first experience with Mr. Adams' writings myself, although I hear he is big television personality in the United States.

This is a very silly life-story of a man who is always late. Really, that is all there is to it.

One Star

Wet Season, by Dennis Etchison

Etchison is generally a middling new writer. Shows promise but I am still waiting for a story that astounds me. Unfortunately, this is not it.

In a town there have been an unusually high number of drownings and the women seem to be acting strangely. At the same time rainfall levels are apparently increasing. After Madden’s daughter dies his Brother Bart comes to tell him of his suspicions.

Etchison really seems to like his Puppet Masters style stories and this is another one in that mold. I am willing to concede that it has a good atmosphere but that is all I am going to give.

A low two stars

Gamma Image 5 — I love this illustration. Why couldn’t this have been one of the pieces inside?

Summing Up

This issue of the magazine is truly terrible. Some stories are not as bad as the others, but it would be a stretch to say anything is actually good.

I am beginning to feel foolish that I took out a subscription from issue 2, as I have already paid for more of these. However, if the quality continues like this, I find it hard to imagine this magazine continuing much beyond that.

That's all for today, folks! Join us next month for another exciting Galactoscope!

and…

Our next Journey Show: At the Movies, is going to be a blast!

DON'T MISS IT!

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Book

[July 12, 1965] A pair of Aces (July 1965 Galactoscope)

July 12, 2020 Rosemary Benton 5 Comments

by Rosemary Benton

A happy duo

The newest Ace Double is an absolute blast. On the one side is veteran writer John Brunner's new novel The Altar of Asconel, which was previously covered in serialization by David Levinson. On the other side is the first solo project of science fiction fandom superstar – Ted White. Android Avenger! The very title of this book sings with promise of action and adventure, and while it certainly delivers I would say that it goes well beyond a short fun read.

Out of Place in Plain Sight

The story takes place in a future on Earth where maintaining sanity has become the objective of the human race. There is an orderly mundanity to everything, and deviation from this norm in any form, from rebellious fashion choices to antisocial tendencies, is punishable by death. Such executions are merged into the daily lives of the citizens of the metropolitan areas. Just like jury duty, anyone of legal age can be called upon to be part of the assembly that collectively pushes the button on the condemned's electric chairs.

Living his own mundane life is Bob Tanner, a resident of Manhattan who, oddly shaken and distracted after attending to his Citizen's duty as an executioner, has a mishap and gets his leg mangled in one of the city's moving walkways. Upon waking up to find that he is entirely healed from such a grievous injury, he overhears some disturbing information about the results of the scans that were run on him while he was unconscious – his bones are made of metal and he may not be entirely human.

Since extreme physical deviancy is also considered an unacceptable trait, Bob realizes that he must run for his life. Planning on journeying out into the countryside where there are fewer police and mental scanners, Bob manages to escape the hospital. Unfortunately his plans quickly careen off course when control of his body is seized from him. Piloted by unknown individuals for unknown reasons, Bob is made into the murderous pawn of one of the best kept secret societies in the city.

Ultimately our protagonist is put in the precarious position of balancing his human identity with the purpose for which an automaton such as himself was created. The story ends on a relatively upbeat note with Bob successfully regaining his autonomy, accepting his mission as an android, and still maintaining a precious, personal human identity. But after reading White’s book and thinking on it, one is still left wondering if technology unknowingly guiding humanity is such a good thing after all.

A Little Background

Ted White is an extremely active member of the fandom community. He is a regular contributor, editor and a fanzine founder. He’s also got an impressive number of letters and essays reviewing, dissecting, and speculating on the numerous subgenres and authors out there.

Currently White is the assistant editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. To date this opinionated author has four professional writing credits to his name: three collaborative stories (two with Terry Carr and one with Marion Zimmer Bradley) and of course, Android Avenger. With such a passion for the genre, it was only a matter of time before White began releasing his own lengthier original works of science fiction.

Breaking Down the Components

First and foremost, Ted White is to be congratulated on telling a compelling story of android self-realization mixed with a heavy dose of noir elements. The intensity of Bob Tanner's character as he struggles with his body betraying societal norms, his self doubt when he begins to question his own mind and consequently his basic sense of self – all of this speaks to the fatalism and moral ambiguity of noir. Yet it is encased in a science fiction paperback.

This blend of genres in turn segues nicely into White's talent for writing action sequences that are clean cut and descriptive without being too wordy. The events of this book are fast paced. So much so that the reader, like the protagonist himself, might feel thrown and unable to get their feet under them before they are swept up in another scene. It’s destabilizing without being disruptive to the flow of the novel. It’s just enough to keep us guessing at what will happen next right there alongside Bob.

Finally, White is to be commended on the excellent job he does writing the protagonist's first person narrative. Successfully accomplishing this type of narration is no small feat for a writer. It's very easy for the tension to be sucked from a book if the storyteller is untrue to their inner voice, specifically in terms of their changing perspective and the information they are aware of at any given point in the story.

But in Android Avenger the reader is never given too little to work with, and even when the events get pretty surreal it's all brought back down to Earth with well written dialogue and succinct descriptions. It may not be the deepest intellectual exploration of humanity and technology, but judged on sheer enjoyability this book is well worth a five star rating.

That puts it well above what my colleague, David, rated Altar, but ACE Double M-123 is still well worth picking up!

Ace Books: Pirate Publisher?

by Erica Frank

In addition to its usual science fiction double, this month, Ace is releasing the second and third books of Tolkien's famous Lord of the Rings trilogy. The first, Fellowship of the Ring, has been selling amazingly well at its new low price of 75¢, a scant fraction of the former hardcover price. Ratatosk 12 had a brief review of Fellowship:

I am not all that crazy about Jack Gaughan's cover (tho other, less critical Tolkienists have expressed satisfaction with it), and there is no mention that the title illo is borrowed from the d/w of the American edition b*u*t: illos are not a book, and the fact that the volume is now available at less than 1/6 of the original U.S. price is a Very Good Deal. The typography is clear, and I have as yet found no typos to stumble over in reading.

While professor Tolkien was adamant that his works not be published in so "degenerate a form" as paperback, it appears that Houghton Mifflin, the publisher of the U.S. hardcover editions, failed to properly copyright them — and so the works are in the public domain here.

Feast your eyes upon either a stealth mission to evade the enforcers of a corrupt empire, or a dastardly attack against the rightful rulers of the text. You decide.
Photo by Gwydion M. Williams

Fanzine Focal Point 8 mentions a few of the details:

Houghton Mifflin, the hardbound publishers of the Ring Trilogy in the United States, was either too cheap or too stupid to have the finest fantasy epic of our century copyrighted in the United States; they ran, instead, a notice that the book was copyrighted in England, which only protected the work until it was published in the United States.

The way copyright law works, in this case: Nations that have joined the Universal Copyright Convention of 1952, agree to honor the copyrights of member states' works as if they had been published in their own country. So: a work copyrighted in the UK, is protected in the US; a publisher can't just grab a book and publish it here. However… once it's published here, it's subject to normal US copyright law, not the UCC. By publishing it in the US without a proper copyright notice, the work falls into the public domain. (Or so the claim goes. I am not a copyright lawyer. Don't quote me in court.)

So Wollheim gave up on trying to arrange licensing with Tokien and decided to meet the demand of the fannish readers, and all's well in the world of epic tales of elven adventures, yes?

…Perhaps not. Tolkien has protested the publication, claiming it is an infringement of his author's rights, and his publishers in the UK and the US are working to print a new authorized edition while he investigates his legal options.

So for now… buy quickly; these editions may not stick around for long.

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction