Tag Archives: book

[July 22, 1970] Solace for Your Trillion-Year-Old Spirit (George Malko's Scientology: The Now Religion)


by Arturo Serrano

I've spent the last few months exchanging letters with an American friend, who has been educating me about a curious phenomenon they're seeing over there: the quick emergence of new religions whose foundation is, uniformly, some account of an alleged extraterrestrial encounter. From the peculiar case of the Mormon faith, I already knew that the Americans had a unique ability to cook up a doctrine from whole cloth and make it explosively successful in terms of gaining devotees and social influence. But even that knowledge did not prepare me for the alarming piece of investigative journalism which my friend has mailed me along with his latest letter. It's a book published this year, written by a Dane called George Malko, with the title Scientology: The Now Religion. It describes the author's journey to explore and unravel a whole intricate system of theology, liturgy, morality, and salvation begun only two decades ago, by the obviously troubled science fiction writer of moderate fame, named Lafayette Ronald Hubbard.

Cover of the book Scientology: The New Religion, by George Malko. The illustration shows a big dollar sign in the middle of the page.
Delacorte Press, New York.

In a nutshell, Scientology (a bland, uncreative name if I've ever heard one) teaches that the human spirit has lived countless lives in countless bodies on countless planets, and we all carry the scars of emotional trauma accumulated over aeons of reincarnations. But fear not! The same church that reveals to you that you have this problem happens to be selling the solution: by letting a complete stranger take note of your darkest secrets in front of a lie detector, you can achieve the next level of enlightenment. And the next. And the next. With each milestone, you're supposed to become more in control of yourself, more unperturbed by the psychic echo of your past lives, and more capable of performing feats of paranormal wonder. There's a finely subdivided series of degrees of perfection you can rise to, provided that you can afford the requisite study materials. That's the only penitence that this church expects of you: the thousands upon thousands of dollars that it costs to buy its ever-increasing but, unsurprisingly, never complete form of happiness.

Continue reading [July 22, 1970] Solace for Your Trillion-Year-Old Spirit (George Malko's Scientology: The Now Religion)

[July 19, 1970] Dips in road (Maze of Death, The Eternal Champion…and others—July Galactoscope #2)

For our second of July's Galactoscopes, we have quite the mixed bag: two winners and two losers.  Aren't you glad you've got us to navigate the dross for you?

Covers of four books. The first cover is for the novel Quest for the Future by A E van Vogt. The illustration shows a huge, green, tentacled monster about to eat a human whole. Text at the bottom right corner says: In the palace of immortality, all the probabilities of time are waiting for you. The second cover is for the novel The Eternal Champion by Michael Moorcock. The illustration shows a man sitting on a throne, holding a sword in one hand and a big, shiny crystal ball in the other. A naked woman is kneeling in front of him, pouring a drink into his mouth. The third cover is for the novel Anti-Man by Dean R Koontz. The illustration shows a multitude of people struggling to walk in order. In the foreground, a human face is half covered by a hand. The palm of the hand shows the eye that the hand covers on that face. Text in the middle says: Sam was a miracle being—and a curse to a dangerously overpopulated planet. The fourth cover is for the novel A Maze of Death by Philip K. Dick. The illustration shows blue clouds half-covering an orange setting sun. Beneath the clouds, half-closed eyes look downward.

Continue reading [July 19, 1970] Dips in road (Maze of Death, The Eternal Champion…and others—July Galactoscope #2)

[July 18, 1970] Two-star three step (July 1970 Galactoscope)

We're breaking up this month's Galactoscope in two—and the dross leads the back. The next three books are all sub-mediocre, but the reviews are well worth the price of admission!

Covers of three books. The first cover is for the book A Harvest of Hoodwinks by Robert Lory. The illustration shows a man in an astronaut suit standing at the entrance of a cave, carrying a lamp. The floor, walls and ceiling of the cave are covered in thick webs. Text on the cover says, Sleight of hand in sciences and sorceries. The second cover is for the book Masters of the Lamp by Robert Lory. The illustration shows a human figure wearing a white robe, standing atop a pillar. Next to the human figure is a floating black octopus. Below, a human face is surrounded by five small planets. Text on the cover says, Send a spy to find a god. The third cover is for the book Operation Ares by Gene Wolfe. The illustration shows three flying saucers over a field where people and wolves are standing.

Continue reading [July 18, 1970] Two-star three step (July 1970 Galactoscope)

[June 17, 1970] Time and Again (June Galactoscope Part Two!)

So many books this month, and this time, we've got all superlatives.  Check out the second June Galactoscope!

Continue reading [June 17, 1970] Time and Again (June Galactoscope Part Two!)

[June 16, 1970] Solaris, Year of the Quiet Sun…and a host of others (June 1970 Galactoscope #1)

This month saw such a bumper crop of books (and a bumper crop of Journey reviewers!) that we've split it in two. This first one covers two of the more exciting books to come out in some time, as well as the usual acceptables and mediocrities.  As Ted Sturgeon says: 90% of everything is crap.  But even if the books aren't all worth your time, the reviews always are!  Dive in, dear readers…

collage of six book covers described more thoroughly below

Continue reading [June 16, 1970] Solaris, Year of the Quiet Sun…and a host of others (June 1970 Galactoscope #1)

[June 12, 1970] Something Good! and Nothing Terrible (July 1970 Amazing)


by John Boston

The July Amazing is fronted by John Pederson, Jr.’s second cover, an agreeable Martian-ish scene, reminiscent of nothing so much as . . . Johnny Bruck on a good day.  So maybe the new commitment to domestic artists isn’t quite the boon I thought it was.  We’ll see.

Cover for Amazing magazine, July 1970. The illustration shows a small space colony on a desert planet. In the foreground, two men in astronaut suits ride a futuristic car. Text on the cover announces stories by Piers Anthony, Bob Shaw, and Robert Silverberg.
by John Pederson, Jr.

The non-fiction this month is a bit less gripping than usual.  White’s editorial recounts his unsatisfactory encounter with a woman who wanted to write an article about SF fandom, but apparently never did (or it never got published).  He then segues to a discussion of Dr. Frederic Wertham and his campaign against comic books which culminated in his book The Seduction of the Innocent.  Then, finally, to the point: Wertham is now saying he too will write about SF fandom and White doesn’t think it will be any good.  He’s probably right, but until we see what Wertham produces, discussing it is a little pointless. 

The letter column remains contentious but is getting a little repetitive; at this point it’s hard for anyone to say anything new about New Wave vs. Old Farts, and no more inviting topic has emerged.  The fanzine reviews are as usual, and the book reviews . . . are missing, damn it!  To my taste they have been about the liveliest part of the magazine.  I hope the lapse is momentary.

But speaking of SF fandom, I’ll take this lack of much to talk about as an occasion to mention something fairly striking about the magazine’s contents under Ted White’s editorship: there is an unusually large representation of Fans Turned Pro, authors who have—like White—been heavily involved in organized SF fandom.  This issue features Bob Shaw, a leading light of Irish fandom and heavy contributor to the celebrated fanzines Slant and Hyphen, who later won two Hugo Awards as best fanwriter among other distinctions; he also had a story in the second (7/69) White-edited issue.  Greg Benford (once a co-editor with White of the also-celebrated fanzine Void) has one of his co-authored “Science in Science Fiction” articles (the fifth) in this issue, and three stories to boot in White’s eight issues, as well as regular appearances in the book review column.  Robert Silverberg, who published a slightly earlier well-known fanzine Spaceship, supplied an impressive serial novel and has a story in this issue.  Terry Carr, another renowned fan editor, had a story in the last issue.  Alexei Panshin is not to my knowledge a fan publisher but has won the Best Fan Writer Hugo for his prolific contributions to others’ fanzines.  Harlan Ellison (short story in 9/69 issue) published the legendary Dimensions in the 1950s.  Joe L. Hensley (same) is a member of First Fandom and published a fanzine in the 1940s. 

And what does it all mean?  The floor is open for sober analysis and wild speculation.

Continue reading [June 12, 1970] Something Good! and Nothing Terrible (July 1970 Amazing)

[May 28, 1970] A pair of Saras: Flower of Doradil and A Promising Planet

A photo of Tonya R. Moore, a brown skinned woman with black hair, wearing a mondrian-styled dress in yellow, white, and black.
by Tonya R. Moore

The latest Ace Double features stories by two authors who both write under pseudonyms. John Rackham is the pen name of electrical engineer and author, John Thomas Phillifent, whose works include three novels from the popular American spy fiction universe series The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Phillifent was a prolific author, the majority of his works of science fiction published under the name John Rackham. The lesser-known Thomas Edward Renn’s singular novel was published under the name Jeremy Strike.

This Ace Double was my first encounter with the works of either author, yet I could not help but notice the distinct differences in literary experience and skill at the heart of each story.

Continue reading [May 28, 1970] A pair of Saras: Flower of Doradil and A Promising Planet

[May 20, 1970] Circus of Hells, Tau Zero, and Vector (May 1970 Galactoscope #2)

black and white photo of a dark-haired white woman with vampiric eyebrows
by Victoria Silverwolf

Vector, by Henry Sutton

Cover of the book Vector by Henry Sutton. The cover illustration shows some downward-facing arrows.
Cover art by Roy E. La Grone.

Henry Sutton is the pen name of David R. Slavitt, a highly respected classicist, translator, and poet. As Sutton, he wrote a couple of sexy bestsellers, The Exhibitionist and The Voyeur. Now he's turned his hand to a science fiction thriller. Let's see if he's as adept at technological suspense as eroticism.

The story begins with the President of the United States announcing that the nation will stop all research into the use of biological weapons. Instead, only defensive research will take place.

That sounds great, but it means very little. Figuring out how to defend oneself against such weapons means you have to produce them and study them.

Next, the author introduces a number of characters in a tiny town in Utah and at the nearby military base. Guess what kind of secret research goes on at the base?

Pilot error during an unexpected storm leads to a virus being released on the town. The deadly stuff causes Japanese encephalitis, a disease with a high mortality rate. Survivors often have permanent neurological damage. There is no cure.

When a number of people come down with the disease, the military seals off the town. The phone lines are cut. One character is shot in the leg while trying to leave. Meanwhile, politicians in Washington try to cover up the disaster.

Our lead characters are a widowed man and a divorced woman who happened to be out of town when the virus hit the place. (The disease is normally transmitted via mosquito bites rather than from person to person. That's why he gets away with a relatively minor set of symptoms and she isn't sick at all.)

Besides giving us the mandatory romantic subplot, these two figure out there's more going on than the military is willing to admit. The man manages to sneak out of town and sets off on a long and dangerous hike across the wilderness, looking for a place where he can make a phone call to a trusted friend with government connections.

This is a taut political thriller in the tradition of The Manchurian Candidate and Seven Days in May. Like those bestselling novels, both adapted into successful films, it creates a cynical, paranoid mood. I can easily imagine Vector as a motion picture.

Less of a science fiction story than last year's similarly themed bestseller The Andromeda Strain by Michael Crichton, Vector is a competent suspense novel. The narrative style is straightforward, meant for readability rather than profundity. The love story seems thrown in just to satisfy the expectations for mass market fiction.

Three stars.


Continue reading [May 20, 1970] Circus of Hells, Tau Zero, and Vector (May 1970 Galactoscope #2)

[April 16, 1970] Junk Day for Ice Crowns (April 1970 Galactoscope)

Tune in tomorrow morning (April 17) for FULL APOLLO 13 SPLASHDOWN COVERAGE!!!


black and white photo of a dark-haired white woman with vampiric eyebrows
by Victoria Silverwolf

Six-Gun Planet, by John Jakes

The author is better known around these parts for his sword-and-sorcery yarns about Brak the Barbarian, firmly in the tradition of Robert E. Howard's tales of Conan. This new novel is a horse of a different color.

The cover of Six-Gun Planet.  The title is written in red block capitals across the top.  Beneath, the story summary reads: This is the story of the planet Missouri, whose revolutionary goals were to duplicate in the 23rd century the Terrafirman Old West, even if they had to use robot pintos for special effects.    Below the text, three images are superimposed over a background of psychedelic swirls in bright primary colors.  The first, at the top left, shows the planet Jupiter with its storm spot, encircled by a bright yellow aura.  In the center, a rope noose descends from the top of the image.  Inside the loop, an orange sunset sky surrounds a cowboy drawn in black and white in the foreground.  He is wearing a tall hat, gun belt, and cowboy boots.  His legs are bowed and his hands appear to be reaching for his gun as he stares malevolently at the viewer from under his hat brim.  In the background, two smaller cowboys, also black and white, appear far in the distance. On the right, three sandstone mountains in shades of yellow and orange appear to be blasting off into space supported by rockets shooting fire beneath them.
Cover art by Richard Powers

The planet Missouri had a revolution some time before the story begins. Advanced technology and a bureaucratic form of government were replaced by nineteenth century ways of doing things and fierce individualism.

In other words, the place now resembles Hollywood's fantasy of the Old West. There are some so-called savages who play the role of American Indians. Towns are full of outlaws and dance hall girls. There are sheriffs around, supposedly to maintain law and order, but they aren't very effective.

Our long-suffering hero is Zak Randolph, a minor government worker who ekes out a living by supplying souvenirs (such as miniature outhouses) to tourists and staging phony shootouts to entertain visitors from other worlds. He also arranges to have local badmen sent to more civilized planets to amuse those who hire them.

This latter function gets him in trouble. One of the leased gunfighters heads back to Missouri before his contract runs out. Zak has to track him down or risk losing his position. (What keeps him on the wild-and-wooly planet at all are his girlfriend and the presence of native plants that supply minerals that can be made into jewelry. Otherwise, he's a peaceable sort who hates the shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later culture of the place.)

Along the way, he has to deal with ruffians who despise him as a coward. There's also the mystery of a legendary gunfighter called Buffalo Yung. Zak isn't sure this terrifying figure really exists. Then he gets reports from various places that he's been shot dead, apparently more than once. And what does this have to do with the disappearing bodies of lawmen killed by Yung?

Continue reading [April 16, 1970] Junk Day for Ice Crowns (April 1970 Galactoscope)

[April 6, 1970] Uncovered (May 1970 Amazing)

Apollo 13 coverage starts tonight and goes on for the next two weeks!  Don't miss a minute.  Check local listings for broadcast times.


A black-and-white photo portrait of John Boston. He is a clean-shaven white man with close-cropped brown hair. He wears glasses, a jacket, shirt, and tie, and is looking at the camera with a neutral expression.
by John Boston

Johnny, We Hardly Knew Ye

The May Amazing presents a new face to the world.  That is, the cover was actually painted for the magazine, as opposed to being recycled from the German Perry Rhodan.  It’s not by one of the new artists editor White was talking up in the last issue, but rather by John Pederson, Jr., who has been doing covers on and off for the SF magazines since the late 1950s.  Ditching the second-hand Europeans is a step forward in itself, though this particular cover is not much improvement: a slightly stylized picture of a guy sitting in a spacesuit on a flying chair with a disgruntled expression on his face, against an improbable astronomical background.

Cover of May 1970 issue of Amazing magazine, featuring a painting of what appears to be a spaceship (made for maneuvering within an atmosphere a la a contemporary jet plane) flying away from a pair of planets.  Overlaid over that space scene, there is a picture of an aging white man in a space-suit seated in what appears to be a command chair with lap controls.
by John Pederson, Jr.

But it is an interesting development for a couple of reasons.  First, in the letter column, White goes into more detail than previously about the European connection, in response to a question about why the covers are not attributed.  White says: “The situation is this: an agency known as Three Lions has been marketing transparencies of covers from Italian and German sf magazines and has sold them to a variety of book and magazine publishers in this country, including ourselves.  These transparencies were unsigned.  One of our competitors credited its reprint covers to ‘Three Lions;’ we felt that was less than no credit at all.  Therefore, unless the artist’s signature was visible, we omitted the contents-page credit.  As of this issue, however, Amazing returns to the use of original cover paintings by known U.S. artists.”

So much, then, for Johnny Bruck, and a hat tip to the diligent investigators who have identified all his uncredited reprint covers as they were published.  In addition to Pederson, White says, he’s obtained covers from Jeff Jones and Gray Morrow, and in fact a Jones cover is already on last month’s Fantastic.  Further: “I might add that, beginning with our last issue, the art direction, typography and graphics for the covers of both magazines has been by yours truly.” So White has pried one more aspect of control of the magazine from the grip of Sol Cohen, presumably all to the good, though the visible effect to date is limited.

Continue reading [April 6, 1970] Uncovered (May 1970 Amazing)