You may recall that Brazil underwent a military coup back in the spring of 1964. The reasons were the usual ones, and the U.S. response can be characterized, at best, as “turning a blind eye,” because then-president João Goulart (popularly known as Jango) was leaning a little too far to the left. The military junta which has ruled Brazil since prefers to call it a revolution, not a coup, but whatever you call it, the result is the same.
Seeking to give themselves more legitimacy, the military instituted a two-party system in 1966. The National Renewal Alliance (ARENA) officially represents the military dictatorship, while the Brazilian Democratic Movement (MDB) gets to make speeches against and vote no on things that are going to happen anyway. That way, the legislature doesn’t look like the rubber stamp it is.
Or was. Unrest has been growing, particularly among the young. Arbitrary arrests and the torture of politcal prisoners has been ongoing. In March, a teenager who was leading a protest against rising food prices was shot point-blank by military police. This murder sparked further unrest, to the point that officials felt they had no choice but to allow a large protest march, hoping it would let the students blow off steam. The March of the One Hundred Thousand in June saw little violence, as the protestors demanded an end to the military government.
The March of the One Hundred Thousand. The banner reads “Down with dictatorship. People in power.”
Enter Márcio Moreira Alves. He started out as a journalist and opposed the Goulart government. After initially supporting the coup, he soon began to oppose it as well, with his primary cause being an end to the torture of political prisoners. He was elected as a Federal Deputy in 1966 and has continued his fight. In September, he called for a boycott of Brazil’s Independence Day celebrations on September 7th, and urged young women not to dance with military officers (or perhaps not date them, I have seen both mentioned in reports).
That was too much. The Justice Department asked the legislature to lift Alves’s immunity so that he could be tried for treason. On December 12th, a joint session of the Federal Chamber of Deputies and the Federal Senate resoundingly refused to do so with a vote of 216-141.
Márcio Moreira Alves delivering the speech that got him into trouble.
The very next day, President Arturo da Costa e Silva issued Institutional Act Number 5. This act, which is not subject to judicial review or legislative oversight, allows the president to rule by decree, eliminates habeas corpus for political crimes, establishes censorship, and lets the government suspend any public servant who is found to be subversive or uncooperative, along with a number of other heavy-handed measures. Costa e Silva ordered hundreds of arrests of government critics the very next day.
There is strong opposition even within ARENA, the party founded to support the junta. Whether this is merely a crackdown or the beginning of cracks in the foundation of the dictatorship remains to be seen.
Passing judgment
If last month’s issue was about forgetting, this month’s IF is about the law and judgment. There’s something else that ties almost all the fiction here together, but we’ll get to that at the end.
Time travelers on their way to meet their ancestor. Art by Vaughn Bodé
Bjo Trimble, a superfan from the wayback, put together a fan shindig in Los Angeles last weekend. Called F-UN Con, it is not only an SF convention, but it's also the first Star Trek convention, with a whole day of programming dedicated to the show.
This article is not about F-UN Con.
Why did we fly to the Bay Area this past weekend rather than trundling up to L.A., which is closer? Well, we know the gang in 'Frisco, and they've been putting together informal conclaves every year. We couldn't very well shuck tradition just for a new event, even if it's nominally in our back yard.
It was a good decision. For one thing, they had a bit of Star Trek up there–this lovely reproduction of the captain's chair.
And now that The Prisoner is showing in the States, we're getting some lovely costumage, too!
Speaking of traditions that are worth upholding, the latest issue of Galaxy feels like a return to the quality of yore. Usually, magazines pack their summer issues with their least impressive offerings, but such was not the case this time around. Take a trip with me!
by Vaughn Bodé
Among the Bad Baboons, by Mack Reynolds
by Vaughn Bodé
Mack Reynolds continues his stories of life under "People's Capitalism" in the '80s, this time focusing on the last of the Bohemians, living in the decaying ruins of Greenwich Village. With most of the country now on the dole, and white flight having been taken to its logical extreme, the cities are now all but abandoned, save for the "babboons"–lawless squatters–and the "hunters", who go downtown to shoot for thrills.
This story is more a vehicle for philosophical discussion than plot, and I found the end a bit distasteful. That said, there are some fascinating suppositions in this tale. One is that the current regime, in which prospective authors send their manuscripts to editors, who then publish them through traditional channels, will be supplanted by a revolutionary new process. In the '80s, any author can take their novel (or story, or artwork) to a computer and have it stored for infinite reproduction. These reproductions can then be read on a tv-phone (or in the case of art, facsimile duplicated).
This means that anyone can be a writer or an artist, and anyone can appreciate any work, any time. And since everyone is on the dole anyway, why not be an artist or a writer? Well, it does mean there's a lot more competition, and it's harder to become a phenomenon, but on the other hand, there's no barrier to entry.
Now, Reynolds assumes most people won't want to be artists, and they will be content to watch 24 hours of television a day while tranked up on cheap drugs. Maybe he's right. But as someone who already publishes nontraditionally (what is Galactic Journey and The Fantasy Amateur Press Association if not decentralized publishing), it's an exciting prospect.
I really had not been looking forward to this second installment of Leiber's tale. Last time, as you recall, a spaceman-actor had landed in post-apocalyptic Texas (now ruler of all North America save the two Black republics in the southwest and southeast) to 1) perform in a short tour and 2) make good on a pitchblende claim in the Yukon. The eight-foot tall, cadaverous, cybernetic thespian was recruited in a hit on the current President of Texas, whereupon he escaped to join causes with the revolutionary Mexican underclass.
It was all a bit silly, and while I appreciated what Leiber was doing, it didn't quite resonate with me. This time, however, the needle fell into the groove. As Chris Crockett La Cruz assumed the role of La Muerta, spurring the downtrodden Mexicans with promises of Vengeance and Death, Leiber's writing took on sublime proportions. The way he navigates the line between satire and seriousness so deftly, with such beautiful language and characterization, even as the characters are all caricatures, is an accomplishment for the ages.
Five stars for ths installment.
For Your Information: In Australia, the Rain …, by Willy Ley
The topic for this month's non-fiction piece is an interesting one: the artificial lakes, rivers, and resulting hydropower systems of Australia. The presentation, however, leaves much to be desired. I want to know the impact of these developments, both on settlement and on the environment, not be given pages of details of their precise geographical location.
Three stars.
The Time Trawlers, by Burt K. Filer
by Dan Adkins
A thousand years from now, humans will fish the future just as they now fish the seas. As the solar system's population grows to number into the quadrillions, our race must pluck planets from 30 billion A.D. to plunder them for their resources. An 18-year old fisherman with "the knack" for finding rich worlds, decides he doesn't want to do it anymore after seeing what the process does to already-inhabited planets. He embarks on a one-man crusade against the practice, hatching a novel scheme to bring it to an end.
Never mind the silliness of the premise, or the fact that culture looks pretty much like 20th Century Earth in the tale. It's a good story, well-told. Sure, it feels a bit like early vintage Galaxy, but I like that era!
Thorinn, that diminutive traveler introduced in The World and Thorinn and later in The Garden of Ease, has returned. This time, he has stumbled across an enormous warehouse filled with all manner of wondrous items. From rich garments to strange engines to a talking box, all are marvels to the medieval-minded explorer.
Of course, it's at this point that our suspicions are confirmed that the myriad of worlds Thorinn passes through are all parts of a giant generation ship, this being the cargo hold. What makes this segment so compelling is the description of these (to us) more-or-less familiar items to a man with no conception of technology. The interactions between Thorinn and the little computer, particularly the way the box learns English, feel very natural. I only wish Thorinn could have taken the box with him; it'd make an interesting companion.
Four stars.
HEMEAC, by E. G. Von Wald
by Joe Wehrle
Long ago, the robots took over the human power plants, and they also claimed a number of human hostages, who they began to educate in their own, logical images. But the robots are breaking down, and the "renegade" humans are pounding at the gates.
What is HEMEAC, a teenaged robot-trained youth supposed to think when his teachers all start behaving erratically and the wild people defile the sacred halls of cybernia?
This is another tale with a classic (i.e. '50s) sense to it. I particularly enjoyed the rendering of the robots, and HEMEAC's not-entirely-successful attempts to make rigid his thought processes.
Four stars.
Missed it by THAT much
Put it all together, and you get an issue that soars almost to four stars in quality–surely to contend for the best magazine of the month. It's reads like this that keep me going, and also cause me to commend editor Pohl for keeping the proud publication on an even keel. I know some disagree with his lambasting of the New Wave (and, indeed, Pohl is not averse to printing examples of it), but I think there is value to the continued production of novel, interesting, but also conventional SF prose.
Science fiction has a reputation for being a serious genre. In tone, that is–it's still mostly dismissed by "serious" literary aficionados. Whether it's gloomy doomsday predictions or thrilling stellar adventure, laughs are usually scarce.
There is, however, a distinct thread of whimsy within the field. Satire and farce can be found galore. For instance, Robert Sheckley was a master of light, comedic sf short stories in the '50s (he's less good at it these days). In moderation, fun/funny stories break up a turgid clutch of dour tales.
On the other hand, when you put a bunch together, particularly when only one of them is above average…
Before we get to the stories, in his editorial column Fred Pohl reminds Galaxy readers to submit proposals for the ending of the Vietnam War…in 100 words or fewer.
It makes me want to send something like this (with apologies to Laugh-In:
How I would end the War in Vietnam, by Henry Gibson.
"I would end the War in Vietnam by bombing the Vietnamese. I would bomb them a lot. When there are no more Vietnamese, we would win."
The lead piece is the beginning of a new serial by one of the old titans of science fiction. It tells of one Christopher Crockett de la Cruz, an actor from a space colony orbiting the moon. He has come down to Earth to ply his trade, a very risky endeavor as even lunar gravity is uncomfortable for him. De la Cruz requires an integrated exoskeleton to get around. That plus his emaciated, 8-foot frame makes him look like nothing so much as Death himself. A handsome, well-featured Death, but Death just the same. (Hmmm… a handsome, gaunt actor–I wonder on whom this character could be based!)
As strange as De la Cruz is, the situation on Earth is even stranger. He makes touchdown in Texas, now an independent nation again in the aftermath of an atomic catastrophe in the late '60s. Its inhabitants have all been modified to top eight feet as well (everything is bigger in Texas, by God's or human design), and they claim sovereignty of all North America, from the Guatemalan canal to the Northwest Territory. And over the Mexicans in particular, who not only are excluded from the height-enhancing hormone, but many of whom are forced to live as thralls, harnessed with electric cloaks that make them mindless slaves.
Quickly, De la Cruz is embroiled in local politics, unwittingly used to spearhead a coup against the current President of Texas. Along the way, the descriptions, the events, the setting are absurd to the extreme–from the reverence paid to "Lyndon the First", father of the nation, to the ridiculous courtships between De la Cruz and the two female characters.
It shouldn't work, and it almost doesn't, but underneath all the silliness, there is the skeleton of a plot and a fascinating world. It doesn't hurt that Leiber is such a veteran; I've read froth for froth's sake, and this isn't it. I'm willing to see where he goes with it.
Three stars.
McGruder's Marvels, by R. A. Lafferty
by Joe Wehrle, Jr.
The military needs a miniaturized component for its uber-weapon in two weeks, but the regular contractors can't guarantee delivery for two years. The colonels in charge of procuring reject out of hand a bid that will provide parts for virtually nothing and almost instantly. It is only when they start losing a global war that they grasp at the seemingly ludicrous straw.
Turns out the fellow who made the bid used to run a flea circus. Naturally, now he's into miniaturization. His parts really do work, and they really are cheap, but as can be expected, there's a catch.
If I hadn't known this story was written by Lafferty, I'd still have guessed it was written by Lafferty. After all, he and whimsy are old companions. It's more of an F&SF fantasy than SF, but it at least has the virtue of being memorable. Three stars.
The best piece of the issue is this one, featuring a new Niven character (the 180-year-old space prospector Louis Wu) in a familiar setting (Known Space). This is set later than the rest of the stories, past the Bey Schaeffer tales, contemporaneous with Safe at Any Speed somewhere close to the year 3000.
Wu has gotten tired of people, and so he has gone off in his one-man ship to explore the stars. His motive is fame–he wants to find himself a relic of the Slavers, the telepathic race of beings who ruled the galaxy and died in an interstellar war more than a billion years ago. In a far off system, his deep radar pings off an infinitely reflective object in orbit around an Earthlike world. Assuming it's a Slaver treasure box, kept in stasis these countless eons, he moves in for the salvage. But a new kind of alien has gotten there first…
Once again, Niven does a fine job of establishing a great deal with thumbnail, throwaway lines. In the end, Tide is a scientific gimmick story, the kind of which I'd expect to find in Analog (why doesn't Niven show up in Analog?), but the personal details elevate the story beyond its foundation.
It's funny; I read in a 'zine (fan or pro, I can't remember) that Niven writes hard SF that eschews characterization. I think Niven writes quite unique and memorable characters and hard SF. It's a welcome combination.
Four stars.
Bailey's Ark , by Burt K. Filer
by Brock
Now back to silliness. Atomic tests have caused the oceans to flood the land. After a few decades, only a few mountaintop communities are left, and soon they will be inundated. Fourteen humans have been chosen to be put into cold storage for 1500 years, to emerge when the waters have receded.
All the animals have died, except for a few caged specimens, and no effort has been made to preserve them through the impending apocalypse. It's up to one wily vet to save at least one species by sneaking it into the stasis Ark without anyone noticing.
Everything about this story is dumb, from the set up to the execution. Its only virtues are that it's vaguely readable and that it's short.
Two stars.
For Your Information: Interplanetary Communications, by Willy Ley
This is a strange article which never quite makes a point. The subject is sending messages from points around the solar system, but ultimately, Ley presents just two notable things:
1) A table of interplanetary distances (available in any decent astronomy book, and without even a convenient translation of kilometers to light-seconds/minutes/hours).
2) The assertion that satellites, artificial or natural, will be necessary as communications relays as direct sending of messages from planetary surface to planetary surface is prohibitively power-intensive. It is left to the reader's imagination as to why that would be.
Two captains of industry vie for control of a city. One offers a collaboration; the other takes advantage of the offer, double crosses the offerer, and leaves him penniless. When the double-crosser gets second thoughts, he subjects himself to a "play-out", a sort of mind trip where he gets to recreate and re-examine his decision in a fantasy world scenario. The double-crossed, coincidentally, engages in a "play-out" at the same time, for the same reason.
This concept was done much more effectively more than a decade ago in Ellison's The Silver Corridor. Two stars.
A callous capitalist comes across "Factsheet Five", a rudely typed circular that details all the horrible injuries caused by the defects in various companies' products. This and the prior Factsheets have had harmful impacts on the companies listed, from financial loss to outright bankruptcy. The capitalist, who has his own industrial empire (and attendant quality-control issues), wants to find the author of the Factsheets so he can get inside knowledge to make a killing in the investor market.
Of course, we know who will be featured in Factsheet Six…
This is the kind of corny, Twilight Zone-y piece that shows up in the odd issue of F&SF. I was sad to find it here.
Two stars.
Seconds' Chance, by Robin Scott Wilson
by Brand
Ever wonder who cleans up after the James Bonds and Kelly Robinsons of the world, settling insurance claims, smoothing diplomatic feathers, etc.? This is their story.
Their rather pointless, one-joke-spread-over-too-many-pages, story.
Two stars.
When I Was in the Zoo, by A. Bertram Chandler
by Vaughn Bodé
Here's a shaggy dog story, told White Hart style, about an Aussie fisherman who gets abducted by jellyfish aliens, exhibited in a zoo with a collection of terrestrial animals, and then seduced for professional reasons by one of the lady jellyfish.
Frankly, I'm not quite sure what else to say about it other than it's the sort of tale you'd expect from A. Bertram Chandler writing a White Hart story–competent, maritime, Australian, and forgettable.
Three stars.
2001: A Space Odyssey, by Lester del Rey
The issue ends with a review panning 2001 as New Wave nihilism, meaningless save for the vague suggestion that intelligence is always evil. This is a facile take. It's possible 2001 is what I call a "Rorschach film", like, say, Blow Up, where the director throws a bunch of crap on the screen and leaves it to the viewer to invent a coherent story. However, there are enough clues throughout the film to make the film reasonably comprehensible. Moreover, there is a book that explains everything in greater detail.
I'm not saying 2001 is perfect, and I imagine those who had to sit through the longer, uncut version enjoyed it less (save for Chip Delany, who apparently preferred it. I'll never know which I would have liked best, since the director not only trimmed down the film after release, but burned the cut footage!) But it is a brilliant film, extremely innovative, and it's worth a watch.
Starving for a bite
After eating all that cotton candy, with only the smallest morsel of meat to go with it, I am absolutely famished for something substantial. Thankfully, I'm about to hop a Boeing 707 for a trip to Japan, where not only the food will be exquisite, but I can catch up on all the 4 and 5 star stories recommended by my fellow Travelers in earlier months.
You may recall one of the more spectacular draft protests last October when Father Philip Berrigan and three other men forced their way in a Selective Service office in Baltimore, Maryland and poured blood into filing cabinets containing draft records. Father Berrigan has acted again, this time along with eight others. The group included Tom Lewis, who was also part of the earlier protest, Berrigan’s brother Daniel, also a priest, and two women.
The Baltimore Nine shortly after their arrest. Fr. Philip Berrigan is 2nd from the left in the back row.
On Friday May 17th, the group entered the Selective Service office in Catonsville, Maryland and began stuffing several hundred A-1 draft records into wire incinerator baskets. Clerk Mary Murphy tried to stop them, but was restrained by one of the protestors. They then made their way back outside and set fire to the records using home-made napalm while quietly reciting the Lord’s Prayer. A short time later, they were arrested, and firefighters extinguished the fire. The following Monday, they sent flowers and a letter of apology signed “The Baltimore Nine” to Mrs. Murphy and the other clerks.
On one hand, the escalation to fire is concerning. Imitators may be less inclined to ensure that no one is harmed. On the other hand, the sight of a group including two priests and a monk defying what they call an unjust war and an unjust law may make people think, especially Catholics. These aren’t a bunch of hippies and long-haired college students who just don’t want to fight in a war.
Of war and women
Two themes run through this month’s IF: war as a necessary evil and female characters who are present solely as motivation for male characters. To be fair, there are as many female protagonists as there are plot pawns, but the latter outweigh the former.
Abbott and his men are the first to reach the Sleeper’s chamber. Art by Gray Morrow
It sometimes astounds me how long Galactic Journey has been around. Eight years ago, we covered the launch of Echo 1, a big balloon shot into orbit so that NASA eggheads could use it as a cosmic message relay. More importantly, it was an artificial beacon, proof at a time when the Americans were losing the Space Race, that we had established a visible presence in outer space.
In just a few days, Echo 1 will be no more. Though the air at Echo's altitude is, to terrestrial standards, a fine vacuum, there is enough there to pull at the satellite. For the past eight years, the tug has slowed down Echo, and this month, it will fall out of orbit, plunging into the atmosphere, where it will burn up.
All things must pass, and Echo had a good run, but still, it's a little sad.
Last month, we lost Anthony Boucher, who helmed F&SF for much of the '50s. His term was excellent, and he also wrote some great stories, too, my favorite being The Quest for St. Aquin He was only 56.
Since Boucher's tenure, F&SF has been an inconsistent magazine. There have been good issues of F&SF, and there have been less than good ones. The latest is one of the latter kind, and its underwhelming quality serves only to make us pine all the more for what we've lost.
by Ronald Walotsky
The Consciousness Machine, by Josephine Saxton
Zona Gambier is a mental technician, proficient in the usage of WAWWAR, a device that has revolutionized psychotherapy. It dredges the animus of one's mental dysfunction, bares it to the possessor, and in doing so, cures the ailing person of any psychological malady. It is thus a matter of great consternation when she finds that her patient, Thurston Maxwell's, animus does not seem to correspond to his condition–namely a predilection for sexual assault.
The imagery WAWWAR produces is the story of a teenage boy living ferally, hiding from all of humanity, until he comes across a newborn, still attached to her just-dead mother. He raises the child, somehow providing for it, until she is old enough to be an adoptive sister. Later, as an adult, they become lovers. Finally, they have a child together, completing a kind of circle.
Ultimately, we find out what this story means, and whose animus it actually is. The writing is rather nice, but the explanation at the end is ad hoc, and I certainly wouldn't call the piece science fiction. Science-esque, perhaps.
Three stars.
Of Time and Us, by David R. Bunch
Better poetry than some, worse than others. I'm not sure I care for the sentiment, espousing the futility of humanity against the infinity of chronology.
Overpopulation stories have been de rigeur for more than a decade now, to the point where the genre is a bit overripe. Especially given that, according to articles I've been reading lately, the population growth rate has been steadily declining in the First World for most of the '60s. Now, will that continue? There are an awful lot of Baby Boomers coming of age, and perhaps the trend will reverse itself. But it does seem that large families, at least in the West and other developed areas, are falling out of fashion.
Which is why Sheckley's satire of overpopulation stories, in which a mild-mannered father, tired of sharing his one-room flat with five others (with five more on the way), enters a deadly competition, is a breath of fresh air. Along with 60 other participants, he must complete a foot-race through the wilds of New York City, populated by the lowest forms of humanity. His prize: one of the last free-standing acres of land on the continent.
Very quickly, you see that the thing is a lampoon, and as such, it's quite tolerable. Indeed, it's the closest thing to an old-style Sheckley story I've read in a long time, and old-style Sheckley is one of my favorites.
Four stars.
Settle, by Ann MacLeod
A couple buys a fixer-upper. Soon, the man of the house starts losing pieces of himself. First a toe, then a foot, onto his leg and torso, until he is just a head. Still, he goes on repairing elements of the home, determined to make it livable. Eventually, he is just a set of teeth and a bit of brain, mowing the lawn by mouth, until he is crushed under the knee of his toddler son. The end.
Per the editor's preface, this story is about how a money pit takes its toll in flesh from its owners. I'm glad that was explained to me, because otherwise, I'd have no idea.
Author Burt Filer is apparently married to Settle's author, Ann MacLeod. His tale is the superior of the two.
A man in his mid-30s wakes up to find his body ten years older. Apparently, he has "backtracked"–a decade from then, he swapped physical forms with his younger self (which apparently destroys the future incarnation so as to prevent paradoxes). He has no memory of the next ten years, nor why he chose this particular date to come back to.
All he knows is that his polio-crippled leg is now reasonably robust, and that his wife is not altogether happy with his new, somewhat weathered, appearance.
Eventually we do find out what would motivate a man to give up a decade of life, and it's a reasonable justification.
Three stars.
At the Heart of It, by Michael Harrison
This is both an old tale and an old-fashioned tale. It details the tragic story of a bookseller who discovers a profane book, one that teaches the reader the art of transferring one's soul into an inanimate object.
There are no surprises, and the kicker comes at the end, like all its Weird Tales brethren. I imagine this would have been humdrum in the 30s and it certainly doesn't cut the mustard now.
Two stars.
Counting Chromosomes, by Isaac Asimov
The Good Doctor explains the relatively new science of genetics and the role chromosomes, which are essentially punch cards that govern cell reproduction, have in them. He spends a good deal of time on sex chromosomes, and the effects that mutated sex chromosomes have on human beings.
Fascinating stuff, but there is an air of eugenics about his discussion, particularly in calling chromosomally abnormal human beings "defectives" and describing the recent exclusion of Ewa Klobukowska from women's sports on the basis of an extra Y chromosome as a positive development, ensuring competitions remain "sportsmanlike", rubbed me the wrong way.
Three stars.
The Secret of Stonehenge, by Harry Harrison
In this vignette, archaeologists armed with a time-traveling camera send it back to find out why and when Stonehenge was created. Turns out that the camera leaves chronological echoes, afterimages that last long after the camera has departed. Of course, it is these images, that, to primitive Britons, could only have been a sign of the gods, that spurred the creation of Stonehenge.
Harry should know better. We've known since 1963 that Stonehenge was an astronomical calculator, able to predict eclipses and solstices. It was built where it was because it needed to be to function properly.
In any event, the far more exciting (and dangerous) discovery is that long-range time travel can be used to communicate with the past, but this was not touched upon.
Two stars.
Sea Home, by William M. Lee
The first long-term permanent underwater residence has been completed. However, it quickly becomes apparent that Sea Home has a problem: its five long-term crew, already at depth, are undergoing physiological changes. It appears to be linked to the special air mixture they're breathing to alleviate pressure issues; their blend includes oxygen, helium, and sodium hexaflouride–the latter two ingredients serving as a kind of buffer, one very light, and one very heavy.
There's a lot wrong with this story. For one, it's a novelette for a one-gimmick story. Lee tries to add color and reasonably competent writing to hide the fact, but there are simply no mysteries to keep you intrigued beyond the central one.
And the central one is stupid. The premise is that the absence of nitrogen triggers all sorts of biological miracles. Free from the shackles of nitrogen, our bodies become more efficient, our brains get smarter, our skin sprouts tiny fields of gills fer Chrissakes. It reminds me of the early stories about long-term weightlessness, when, because we had no data, sf writers filled in the blanks any way they wanted.
Except we do have data. Gemini 7 was in space for 14 days, its crew breathing a pure, 5psi oxygen atmosphere. None of them got any smarter or developed vacuum-breathing gills or what-have-you.
Dumb. Two stars.
Cithaeronion farewell
As you can see, this issue is sort of like the work of a taxidermist. It looks like F&SF, many of its contents are familiar, but the breath of life is missing. Would that someone new could come along and instill the esteemed publication with the vigor it enjoyed under its past master.
Overlooked by many, my favourite comic book right now is Lady Penelope, TV21’s magazine for girls. Between the great stories of Spectrum’s Angels, Bewitched and (surprisingly) Crossroads, they have delightful pop culture articles.
Three recent psychedelic albums whose art evokes the past
In a recent piece they pointed out how current culture seems to be drawing from pre-war sources, whether that be in fashion, where people are seemingly emulating the flappers of Thoroughly Modern Millie and the military outfits of Khartoum, music, with music hall and ragtime mixing with psychedelia, or television, with the success of The Forsyte Saga and The World of Wooster.
As such, the line between current and past styles is becoming more blurred, something reflected in this article’s selection of fiction:
In his foreword, Carnell muses on how changes in SF style seem to follow the sunspot cycle and happen differently on both sides of the Atlantic. He states that Harrison here represents the Ballardian inner-space type of story, Kapp representing the Vancian “medieval futurism”, Rome and Sellings could only be told in the current style, whilst White and Rankine are more traditional.
Vertigo by James White
We start with a return to White’s “Sector General”, where the crew of Descartes conduct an exploratory mission to a soupy planet nicknamed “Meatball”, where they discover a tool that psychically responds to the user's needs. Soon the native species makes a first attempt at spaceflight and Descartes’ crew attempts a rescue.
This is the kind of high quality I have come to expect from these tales. Strong character work, fascinating depiction of alien life and well-paced action. White knows what he does and does it well.
Four Stars
Visions of Monad by M. John Harrison
Bailey is a poet who became disillusioned with life. He consented to spend two weeks in a sensory deprivation tank and now spends his time with Monad, his beatnik artist lover, in a hedonistic haze, struggling to connect with reality.
This is more Moorcock New Worlds than Carnell’s, very hip and New Wavey. One with marginal SF content (SD experiments featuring in thrillers such as The Mind Benders) but very well told and evocative.
Four Stars
Worm in the Bud by John Rankine
Commander Dag Fletcher is sent to retrieve Peter Quinn, an IGO diplomat who has tried to ensure peace is maintained with the insectoid Chrysaorties. However, the planet is inhospitable, the takeoff is delayed, and Fletcher senses the aliens cannot be trusted…
As you may recall, I am not a fan of these stories, and I continued to dislike both the content and the style of this piece.
This one is Twilight Zone-esque, where Adam and Eve and their two children move into the Rich Valley Development, a seemingly utopian farming community where no effort is needed to make the crops grow. But is it all too good to be true?
These kind of sinister conformist community tales are fairly common but this is an effective example.
Three Stars
The Last Time Around by Arthur Sellings
In the future a few specialist pilots are needed to fly D.C.P. (Direct Continuum Propulsion) ships to explore new planets, but the time dilation effect means the crew comes back many years later. This follows Grant’s attempts to adjust to Earth after these trips away.
This is a very slow story but a clever one to explore changes in society and how love could work for a time traveler, with a morally ambiguous ending.
This novella tells of a future where gas balloons are the main form of transport. Guild Journeyman Jacobi comes to Catenor to help with the construction of hydrogen ships, whilst dealing with Cloud Pirate raids.
I have not much liked Kapp’s “Unorthodox Engineer” tales but this is an improvement in both style and content. The main issue is it is too long because Kapp over describes everything. It makes what could have been a marvellous short, a touch flabby.
Three stars
So a good selection in New Writings, but how will Famous fare? One positive point to start with is that I don’t believe any of these stories have been reprinted since first publication. As to the quality? Read on:
Famous #4 Illustration by Virgil Finlay, unknown source
Standards in Science Fiction – Science Fiction as Delight
Lowdnes uses his editorials across all three issues to look in depth at what makes good science fiction enjoyable. Well worth a glance.
The Man Who Awoke: 2. Master of the Brain by Laurence Manning Illustration by Frank R. Paul
Continuing the 1933 serial, Norman Winters now awakes in 10,000 AD. Here he finds a society governed by a computer called the Brain. People live in cities under its direction, doing a small amount of work according to their rank and then spend the rest of their time in leisure facilities. However, the brain may no longer need humans at all, and Winters agrees to aid rebels in freeing themselves from its control.
This very much feels like a product of the time, combining together elements of The Machine Stops and Brave New World into an adventure tale. What it lacks in originality though, it makes up for in style and characterization.
Four Stars
… Do Not Fold or Mutilate … by William M. Danner
A new piece by a writer I am unfamiliar with. Danner tells of a man in an overcrowded society trying to deal with a change to his assistance card.
Whilst the atmosphere conjures up Make Room! Make Room!the actual tale is a standard one of failing bureaucracy like we have read many times before.
A low three stars
The Last Shrine by Chester D. Cuthbert
In Mexico lies the mysterious Valley of Peace, our narrator goes in to discover the truth behind the legends and meets a mysterious native tribe.
Originally from the same issue as Voice of Atlantis, these kind of “lost race” stories were already old fashioned in the 30s and the addition of strange science and dreams doesn’t do much to aid it.
The other new fiction is from a long-time horror writer and regular contributor to Lowdnes’ other magazines. In a change to Hoch’s usual style, this involves Turkmen’s return to his family after a year on the moon and recounting his life there.
A lovely slice of life piece with a great twist in the tail.
Four Stars
Master of the Octopus by Edward Olin Weeks
Going back to the 19th Century, Weeks’ story comes from Pearson’s Magazine in 1899. This reprint has an introduction by Sam Moskowitz on how it fits into the history of lighting.
The Consolidated Lighting Company of America has become so powerful and successful it has been nicknamed The Octopus and its president seen as possibly the smartest man on the planet. However, when an inventor brings him a perpetual light with no need of external energy, he may have met his match.
This seems to me to be a satire of Thomas Edison and General Electric. And, even though it starts bright, it ends dimly.
This final novelette comes from the early days of Weird Tales, in 1926. Our narrator relates the tale of Jabez Pentreat, an etymologist who travels into the jungles of Venezuela, finding a stone city overrun with spiders and ruled over by a giant telepathic Spider King.
Whilst Munn does a good job of showing an alien kind of intelligence (the influence of Lovecraft is clear) I found myself more in mind of giant insect B-Movies, and the treatment of the South American natives left a bad taste in my mouth.
Two Stars
For issues 2 and 3, it seems the older the story, the more well liked it is.
Famous #5
Illustration by Frank R. Paul, originally from Wonder Stories – May 1933 illustrating Gulliver 3000 AD by Leslie F Stone The Pygmy Planet by Jack Williamson
Illustration by H. W. Wesso
Dr. Whiting, to test evolution, creates a miniature planet in his laboratory using x-rays. The planet (as smaller objects experience time at high speed) has advanced to such a stage the creatures on it have been able to kidnap Whiting and bring him down. His lab assistant Agnes summons her friend Larry for help. When a machine-monster from the planet also grabs Agnes, Larry must shrink himself down and rescue them both.
Illustration by Frank R. Paul
Reprinted from 1932’s Astounding, I cannot help thinking readers at the time would have found the entire tale just as silly as I did. And whilst it is better told than Cummings' similar story a few issues ago, it is very oddly paced with the adventure section feeling far too short and the ending being a poor one.
Not just new fiction but a new writer to the scene, which is always good to see. In the future he describes, some people are licensed to be “destroyers” if they have a reason for their hatred. A writer interviews several contradictory destroyers to ascertain their motives.
A very silly satire but Bear’s style shows promise.
A higher two stars
The Man Who Awoke: 3. The City of Sleep by Laurence Manning Illustration by Frank R. Paul
We continue Norman Winters' journeys into the future. In this millennium the world has seen a big increase in temperature and the population of America are all black. More and more people are entering into a computer-generated fantasy world where all their wishes can be fulfilled. However, this is creating a crisis, as soon there will be too few people left outside to maintain the machines or to reproduce.
Of all the societies Manning has shown us, I find this one the most fascinating so far. Whereas the prior installment felt distinctly of the period, this could easily have been produced today by Philip K. Dick. It continues to ask great questions about our future, balancing the good and bad of possibilities.
Five Stars
Echo by William F. Temple
We come now to a new tale by an old hand. This is an unusual spy story, where the Saurian Venusians have taken over the body of Richard Gaunt by use of a temporary echo of the personality of Narvel. They intend to steal the secrets of Organic Materials Inc., however, it turns out that being a human is harder than it seems.
Whilst it is a more original take on the genre, I found it confusing and unpleasant.
A low two stars
Plane People by Wallace West
Illustration by Paul Orban
Finally, we have the return of Wallace West with this piece from Astounding November 1933. Whilst studying a two dimensional comet, astronomer Adolph Strauss, his son Frank, Frank’s girlfriend Marie and clerk Bert Wheeler, find themselves transported on to it. There they discover an entire civilization of flat people.
Illustration by Paul Orban
This is a combination of Off on a Comet, Flatland and A Princess of Mars without managing to be anywhere near as interesting as any of them. I found the whole experience silly and dull. Add to that the unpleasant writing of Marie throughout, it is incredibly weak.
One Star
Once more showing my opinions are at odds with the average Famous reader.
Famous #6
Illustration by Frank R. Paul, illustrating The Individualists for the original 1933 Wonder Stories publication
The crew of the Adventure travel to the (much hypothesized at the time, 1932) planet Vulcan, close to the sun. They are in search of Cosmicite, a rare metal which can act as a near perfect insulator. However, Vulcan is dangerous to human life and the Vulcanites may not be keen to part with it.
Stone does a great deal of work to make the Vulcanites another civilization and not merely generic tribespeople. And although the work does contain some cliches of the period, it ends up being smarter than I expected.
Four Stars
The Dragon-Kings by L. Sprague de Camp
The first poem for Famous, from the current laureate of F&SF, apparently being an ode to dinosaurs. I can’t help think it may have been rejected by his usual venue for being very poor fare.
One Star
The Individualists by Laurence Manning
Full version of cover illustration
In the fourth installment of The Man Who Awoke series, Winters now awakes in 20,000 AD where he finds a world full of cities that move around like Wells’ Martian Tripods and battle each other, but inside they have only a single inhabitant.
This portion feels different to the prior installment in a few ways. Firstly, whilst the others are more complexly thought-out societies, this feels more Swiftian in its approach, absurdism to make a point. Secondly, he ends being unable to make any changes to this era, the individual tendency being overwhelming. Thirdly, another person decides to copy his methods of suspension. How the last part will play out we will have to see in the final installment.
Not my favourite piece but still fascinatingly told and makes great points.
Four stars
More Than One Way by Burt K. Filer
The final new piece is from one of Pohl’s recent discoveries. Humans of 2071 are trying to deal with Denobleans (flying snake creatures). Scotty and Mel develop the EDM (ensephalodigital manipulator) which allows them to pursue alternative paths of evolution of creatures including man.
Ridiculous science, psi-powers, dull engineering details, human ingenuity beating aliens. I would bet my hind teeth this was an Analog reject.
One Star
The Invulnerable Scourge by John Scott Campbell
The final story comes from November 1930’s Wonder Stories. Following a debate between Dr. Riis and Prof. Pfeffler over the superiority of man or insect, the former develops an insect that is completely immune to natural predators. Unsurprisingly it escapes.
With the first-place result for City of Spiders, I guess a lot of readers like these bug-based horror tales. This one is more apocalyptic and good at times, but I was mostly rolling my eyes at it and the ending is a big disappointment.
Two Stars
Well, one person disliked the West novelette at least…
Past or Future? Is Paco Rabane's design meant to be futuristic or historical?
Once again, it seems that sometimes new is better, at others the old has something to teach us. In the 1990s or 2000s, will people be trying to imitate the styles of the 1960s? Only time will tell.
On December 2nd, in Observatory, Cape Town, South Africa, a young woman named Denise Darvall was struck by a drunk driver. She was rushed to a nearby hospital, but doctors could do nothing for her and abandoned resuscitation attempts at 9:00 p. m. The doctors approached her father, informed him of his daughter’s death, and told him that it might be possible to save someone else’s life by transplanting her heart. After a few minutes of consideration, Mr. Darvall gave his permission.
The patient in question was 55-year-old grocer Louis Washkansky, whose own heart was giving out. Surgery began shortly after 1:00 in the morning of December 3rd under the leadership of Dr. Christiaan Barnard. Mr. Washkansky began his recovery in good spirits, and Dr. Barnard declared the operation a success, because the heart was doing its job without external assistance. Unfortunately, Mr. Washkansky contracted pneumonia – possibly as a result of the drugs he was given to suppress his immune system to prevent rejection of the new heart – and died of complications from that illness on December 21st.
Louis Washkansky talks to Dr. Barnard in the days following the surgery.
Nevertheless, this was a strong first step (I cannot accept the attempt a few years ago in Mississippi to transplant a chimpanzee heart into a human as serious), and we can add the heart to corneas and kidneys as a transplantable organ. Lung, liver, and pancreas transplants have all been attempted, but can still only be considered experimental at this point. However, it’s clear that great strides are being made, and one day in the not too distant future one person’s untimely death may allow many others to live full lives. Let’s just hope this doesn’t take us down the dark road Larry Niven imagines.
Considering the consequences
Larry Niven starts a new novel in this month’s IF in which he offers a warning about where successful organ transplants could take us. The characters in a couple other stories also have to ask themselves just where their actions might lead.
This dreamscape doesn’t appear in Robert Sheckley’s new story, but it could. Art by Vaughn Bodé
It all started in January with a day of music and speeches called the Human Be-In in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. Young people came from all over, and as many as 30,000 people attended. When spring break rolled around, more and more descended on the city’s Haight-Ashbury district and other places around the Bay Area. Alarmed by the growing “hippie problem”, the Mayor and Board of Supervisors tried to stem the tide, but only drew greater attention to the mass migration. The trickle has become a flood, and tens of thousands of “flower children” have come to San Francisco. In response to the city’s inaction, various groups and organizations formed the Council for the Summer of Love, creating a free clinic and helping newcomers to find food and housing.
The official poster created by Bob Schnepf
Music is important to the youth movement, and two events in the Bay Area proved very popular. On June 10th and 11th, radio station KFRC held the Fantasy Fair and Magic Mountain Music Festival in the Cushing Memorial Amphitheater on Mount Tamalpais in Marin County, with all proceeds going to the Hunter’s Point Child Care Center. Bands from the region and farther afield performed on two stages, while visitors could also wander through the arts and crafts fair in the woods around the theater. Some of the bigger names included Dionne Warwick, the Byrds, Jefferson Airplane and the Doors. The event appears to have gone off without incident.
The festival was delayed one week due to bad weather.
One week later, the Monterey International Pop Festival took place down the coast. Inspired by the Monterey Jazz Festival and the Big Sur Folk Festival, this brainchild of John Phillips (of the Mamas and the Papas) and record producer Lou Adler was put together in just seven weeks. There was some overlap with the Fantasy Fair (Jefferson Airplane and the Byrds, for example), but there were some really big names as well, such as Simon and Garfunkel, the Animals, the Who, and of course the Mamas and the Papas. Sunday afternoon was given over to sitar player Ravi Shankar. The Who and Jimi Hendrix were afraid of being upstaged by the other, so they flipped a coin. Hendrix got to go second on Sunday evening, and after the Who finished their set by smashing their instruments, Hendrix topped them by setting his guitar on fire, smashing it and tossing the pieces into the audience.
This poster is a good example of the new psychedelic art style.
Summer officially begins with the solstice, when the sun reaches its northernmost point. In the pre-dawn hours on the 21st, a thousand or so hippies climbed the Twin Peaks in the heart of San Francisco to greet the sunrise with chants, drums and incense to inaugurate their hoped for Summer of Love. The sun even managed to burn through the fog around 7:00. Whether it really will be a summer of love or another long, hot summer like last year remains to be seen.
Hippie Randall DeLeon greets the sun and makes the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle.
… and the demons of our worst
This month’s IF is full of demons: personal, metaphorical and literal. But first, editor Fred Pohl makes the death of Worlds of Tomorrow official. The problem was distribution. Not enough news stands carried the magazine, and digests (unlike the slicks and their high ad rates) can’t get by on just subscription sales. So some of the features exclusive to Worlds of Tomorrow have been rolled into IF and the price is going up, both of which are reflected on the cover.
That’s not quite how black magic works in the new Blish novel, but it ought to be. Art by Morrow
Americans are taught that the true importance of the inauguration of Thomas Jefferson in 1801 is that this was the first peaceful transfer of power between rival politcal parties in history. Whether or not that’s the case, such a transfer is seen in the modern era as an indicator of a successful democracy. Apart from in the white colonial governments in Rhodesia and South Africa, this has yet to occur in sub-Saharan Africa, but for a brief moment it looked as though it was going to happen.
On March 17th in Sierra Leone, the ruling Sierra Leone People’s Party lost a close election to the All People’s Congress under Siaka Stevens. Four days later, Governor-General Henry Josiah Lightfoot Boston swore Stevens in as the country’s new Prime Minister. Later the same day, Brigadier David Lansana staged a coup, ordering the arrest of Stevens and Boston and declaring martial law. In the wee hours of the 23rd, a counter-coup arrested Lansana and announced that the country would now be ruled by an eight-man National Reformation Council. Initially, they said that the new head of state would be Lt. Colonel Ambrose Genda, who was part of the Sierra Leonean mission to the U. N. He was quite surprised by the news, but as he boarded a plane in London on the 27th, it was announced that the head of the council would be Lt. Colonel Andrew Juxon-Smith, who was on the same flight. Had Stevens taken power and ruled within the constitution, Sierra Leone could have been an example to the rest of post-colonial Africa. Alas, it was not to be.
Siaka Stevens (top left), Governor-General Henry Josiah Lightfoot Boston (top right), Brigadier David Lansana (bottom left), Lt. Colonel Andrew Juxon-Smith (bottom right)
Steady state
There's not much variation in the quality of the stories in this month’s IF. It's more of a smooth plane with one small ding in it. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but neither is it really good.
![[January 4, 1969] Not following through (February 1969 <i>IF</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/IF-1969-02-Cover-570x372.jpg)
The March of the One Hundred Thousand. The banner reads “Down with dictatorship. People in power.”
Márcio Moreira Alves delivering the speech that got him into trouble.
Time travelers on their way to meet their ancestor. Art by Vaughn Bodé![[July 10, 1968] Back in the Saddle Again (August 1968 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/680710cover-672x372.jpg)
![[June 10, 1968] Froth and Frippery (July 1968 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/680610cover-653x372.jpg)
![[June 2, 1968] Necessary Evils (July 1968 <i>IF</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/IF-1968-07-Cover-543x372.jpg)
The Baltimore Nine shortly after their arrest. Fr. Philip Berrigan is 2nd from the left in the back row.
Abbott and his men are the first to reach the Sleeper’s chamber. Art by Gray Morrow![[May 20, 1968] Dying, deflating, and deorbiting (June 1968 <i>Fantasy and Science Fiction</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/680520cover-665x372.jpg)
![[March 4, 1968] Everything Old is New Again (<i>New Writings in SF-12</i> & <i>Famous Science Fiction</i> Issues #4-6)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/Cover-396x372.png)
![[January 2, 1968] The consequences of success (February 1968 <i>IF</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/IF-1968-02-Cover-672x372.jpg)
Louis Washkansky talks to Dr. Barnard in the days following the surgery.
This dreamscape doesn’t appear in Robert Sheckley’s new story, but it could. Art by Vaughn Bodé![[July 4, 1967] Angels and Demons (August 1967 <i>IF</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/IF-1967-08-Cover-645x372.jpg)
The official poster created by Bob Schnepf
The festival was delayed one week due to bad weather.
This poster is a good example of the new psychedelic art style.
Hippie Randall DeLeon greets the sun and makes the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle.
That’s not quite how black magic works in the new Blish novel, but it ought to be. Art by Morrow![[April 4, 1967] Transitions (May 1967 <i>IF</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/IF-Cover-1967-05-672x372.jpg)
What are these robots up to? Art by Gaughan