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Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[May 2, 1964] The Big Time (May 1964 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Making it

Many people harbor a desire for fame — their face on the screen, their star on a boulevard, their name in print.  That's why it's been so gratifying to have been given plaudits by no less a personage than Rod Serling, as well as the folks who vote for the Hugos. 

But it wasn't until this month that one of us finally made the big time.  Check out this month's issue of Analog, for in the very back is a letter whose sardonic commentary makes the author evident even before one gets to the byline.  Yes, it's our very own John Boston, Traveler extraordinaire.

Bravo, Mr. Boston.  You've got a bright future.

As for Analog… there the outlook isn't so clear.

The Issue at Hand


Cover by John Schoenherr

The Problem of the Gyroscopic Earth, by Capt. J. P. Kirton

Captain Kirton's treatise on the link between the galactic magnetic field and Earth's precessions is both unreadable and ludicrous.  Basically (he argues), as the axis wobbles, pointing the poles at different sections of the sky in a many thousand-year cycle, the Milky Way works its voodoo and causes mass extinctions.

Pretty pictures are included, but I believe Kirton was indulging in some of Dr. Leary's happy juice when he wrote this.

One star (and only because the scale doesn't go any lower).

Undercurrents (Part 1 of 2), by James H. Schmitz


by John Schoenherr

Two years ago, James Schmitz introduced us to Telzey Amberdon, a 15 year old girl whose telepathic abilities allow her to establish the sentience of an alien species.  It was sort of like Piper's Little Fuzzy, and while it wasn't the most adeptly written piece, the premise and the protagonist were so intriguing that I wanted to see more stories about them.

The good news is that I got another story.  The bad news is that it isn't very good.

In this installment, Telzey goes off to the planet of Orado for advanced schooling at Penhanron College, along with Gonwil Lodis, an older girl on the threshold of adulthood and heir to a vast fortune.  When Telzey makes telepathic contact with Gonwil's fierce canine bodyguard, Chomir, she learns of a plot to murder Gonwil, but the details remain frustratingly out of reach.  Telzey must use her wits and her ever increasing talent to find the would-be assassins before they complete their mission.

It sounds pretty fantastic when written like this and, condensed down to its bare essentials, Undercurrents could be a great story.  But the thing is padded to oblivion with pointless exposition, with whole pages of content that get explained again in a few paragraphs later on anyway.  Moreover, I'm pretty sure that the dog is the lynchpin to the crime — I'll wager that in the conclusion, Chomir will turn out to have some sort of conditioning to turn on his owner.

I'll keep reading because I love the character, and I appreciate that there are a plethora of interesting women in Schmitz's world, but this could have been so much better in the hands of a more skilled (or interested?) writer.

Two stars.

Fair Warning, by John Brunner


by Michael Arndt

On a Pacific atoll, moments before the atom bomb's big brother is about to be set off, a supernatural being manifests to adjust the device's detonator and ensure that it can go off properly.  There's a Mene, Mene, Tekel, Parsin air about the event, but delivered with a sly smile.  Horrified, the scientists get drunk and smash their equipment. 

It wasn't badly written, but I found it kind of pointless.  Two stars.

Once a Cop, by Rick Raphael


by John Schoenherr

This is the second installment in Raphael's "Code Three" universe, featuring a future where the North American continent is crisscrossed by mile-wide freeways.  Cars hurtle from town to town at speeds over 200 mph, and the job of the Highway Patrolman is more necessary — and dangerous — than ever.

Once again, we follow the exploits of the seasoned Sergeant Ben Martin, rookie Clay Ferguson, and surgeon Kelly Lightfood, crew of "Beulah", a 60-foot patrol behemoth.  The piece depicts a number of crises, from a drunk speedster who soars off a highway curve, to a trucker who gets lost in a sandstorm, but the main arc involves a spoiled rich kid who is taken into custody after zooming through a closed lane and almost plowing into an accident scene.  Said kid's father is a big wheel in corporate America, and he tries everything from bribery to blackmail to get his son out of trouble. 

I hadn't expected to like this series so much, but Rafael does an excellent job of presenting the technical aspects of the story smoothly, and all of the vignettes are exciting.  It reads less like a cop show (viz. the TV show Highway Patrol) and more like a series on firefighters.  Plus, I dig that there is a prominent and tough woman in the crew.

Four stars, and keep 'em coming.

A Niche in Time, by William F. Temple


by Laszlo Kubinyi

Artists are a moody bunch, and apparently, most of the greats had profound moments of doubt that almost stymied their careers.  It turns out that, for many of them, the difference between throwing in the towel and going on to make masterpieces is an organization of time travelers.  They appear on the doorstep of the depressed creators and take them to the future to see the laurels of success.  Then the artists' memories are wiped, but the impetus remains.

No, it doesn't make a lot of sense, and this story would veer strongly into two-star territory if not for the final twist.  And, while the premise is hard to swallow, it is consistent unto itself.

Three stars.

Hunger, by Christopher Anvil


by Laszlo Kubinyi

Last up, we get a look at a failing settlement on a colony planet, whose inhabitants have been laid low by disease and mechanical failures such that just two men and a baby remain.  Their only hope is the sack of potatoes one of the fellows has managed to obtain from another straggling settlement.

The fortunes of the three are made all the worse when a pleasure yacht arrives from Earth and proceeds to set the forest afire with negligent aplomb.  The two colonists are left with but one option: use their resourcefulness to capture the yacht and make the jerks stop their wanton destruction.

This story was almost quite good.  The setup was interesting and I like a story that starts with one problem and then brings in another out of left field.  What keeps the piece solidly in the three-star range is the page of moralization at the end, in which a character opines that it's struggle that makes happiness possible, but then takes things too far by saying, "Back home, they're always talking about abolishing hunger.  They might think about it some more."  Plus, there's just some awkwardness and nastiness about the ending, and the suggestion of women as prizes that rubbed me the wrong way.

So, three stars.  Maybe it was better before Editor Campbell got his paws on it.

Summing up

April is done, so let's close the books and do the numbers!  Starting from the bottom, we have Amazing, managing to earn just two stars.  Some folks liked the Smith and Brown better than John Boston, but in general, it was a stinker.  That's a shame since it may be the only magazine to date with more words penned by women than by men.  The Analog we just got through, Boston letter notwithstanding, gets 2.6 stars.  Meanwhile F&SF earns an uninspiring 2.7 stars, but it did feature good stories by Clingerman and Carr (and if you like Ballard, by him, too).  Finally, Fantastic gets 2.9 stars, but if you're a Leiber and/or Moorcock fan, it might earn more from you.

This leaves three mags at three stars or higher, which is pretty good, actually.  IF gets exactly three, with the Cordwainer Smith story making it a worthy acquisition.  Worlds of Tomorrow has got some great stuff in it, even a good Jack Sharkey tale fer Chrissakes, and scores 3.3.  And the new New Worlds gets a respectable 3.4.

Women wrote 4 of the 43 new fiction pieces this month.  And despite the somewhat low showings of a lot of the mags, there were more standout tales this month than most.

Onward to June!

[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




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Book, Magazine, Movies

[February 1, 1964] The Vast Wasteland (February 1964 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Every Silver Lining has a Cloud

What an exciting month January was!  From President Johnson's declaration of war on poverty to the launching of the Ranger 6 moon mission, not to mention this week's premiere of the amazing satire/horror, Dr. Strangelove, this year is shaping up to be a good one.

But while real life and the silver screen may offer superlative pleasures, this month's written sf , at least on this side of the Pond, has been rather lackluster.  This month's Analog is no exception.  In fact, it rests near the bottom of the pack.  That said, it's not a complete loss — so long as you know what you're getting into:

The Issue at Hand

Secondary Meterorites (Part 2 of 2), by Ralph A. Hall, M.D.

Dr. Hall returns to tell us more about the hypothesis that the majority of meteors that hit our planet are actually pieces of other planets knocked off when they were hit by meteorites.  It is, if anything, less comprehensible than the last article.  And that's coming from a fellow who studied astrophysics in college and reads journal articles for fun.

One star.

The Permanent Implosion, by Dean McLaughlin

When a bunch of Colorado eggheads blow a hole in the fabric of the universe, all of Earth's air starts whistling to nowhere like water draining from a bathtub.  Mick Candido, an oilman with a talent for capping blown and burning wells, is called in to plug the hole.

This is a smartly written tale whose obvious solution is obscured by deft authorial misdirection.  It's not a story for the ages, but it's solid Analog fare.  Three stars.

Crackpots, Inc., by Richard L. Davis

On the other hand, Crackpots is uniquely Analog fare.  A rural hayseed has purportedly invented perpetual motion, but his feat cannot be duplicated by scientists.  Turns out, it's because the machine is powered by the hick's psychic energies.  The only way this piece could have been more to Campbell's taste is if it included dowsing.

One star.

Dune World (Part 3 of 3), by Frank Herbert

I'm going to spare some inches for this one since I know this has been a popular serial.  In the far future, humanity has spread out among the stars.  Civilization is a strange mix of the advanced and the primitive. There are faster-than-light ships, electro-magnetic shields, and laser guns, On the other hand, computers are outlawed, with savant "Mentats" filling the role.  Society runs along feudal lines, its politics Machiavellian to the extreme.  To wit:

Baron Harkonnen, lord of the desert planet, Arrakis, is ordered by the Padishah Emperor to give his fief to Duke Leto Atreides.  On the face of things, this is a boon.  Arrakis is the only source of the anti-geriatic spice melange, control of which makes one very rich.  However, the transfer is a baited trap.  Not only is a legion of the Emperor's troops poised to seize the fief should Leto stumble, but one of Leto's lieutenants is a traitor in the pay of Harkonnen.

Added to the mix: Leto's mistress, Lady Jessica, member of the female-only Bene Gesserit order, who has keen perception and the ability to control others with her voice.  Her son, Paul, who may be the satisfaction of a prophecy that predicts a male possessor of Bene Gesserit powers.  The "Fremen" natives of Arrakis appear to be primitives yet there is evidence that suggests they possess a great technology.  Finally, we have Kynes, an Imperial surveyor who seems to know the secrets of Arrakis but refuses to play his hand openly.

Not much happens in Dune World.  There are lots of conversations where people reveal the history of Arrakis.  There is an attempt on Paul's life.  Leto saves some spice miners from a sandworm.  There is a feast in the Atreides stronghold with more exposition.  The traitor's plan comes to fruition, with the Duke put in mortal peril and his family forced into exile.  There is no real resolution; I suspect Herbert plans a sequel.

Author Herbert has an intricate grand plan, and he's certainly not stinted on world building.  The various cultures are richly detailed.  There is a refreshing abundance of foreign language and concepts, particularly from Arabic.  What keeps Dune World from being a masterpiece, or even especially enjoyable, is that Herbert's writing chops just aren't up to turning this byzantine mess of a plot into a story.  There are more swaths of italicized text than in the footnotes of a legal contract, and the viewpoint shifts constantly, often every other sentence.  A typical example from page 49:


"Now I know you remain loyal to my Duke," she said.  "Therefore I'm prepared to forgive your affront to me."

"Is there something to forgive? he asked.

Jessica scowled, wondering, Shall I play my trump?  Shall I tell him of the Duke's daughter I've carried within me these two weeks?  No, Leto himself doesn't know and this would only complicate his life, divert him when he must concentrate on our survival.  There is yet time to use this.

And Hawat thought: She's even beautiful when she's angry.  An extremely difficult adversary.

The traitor is revealed early on; the mystery is why he's betrayed Duke Leto.  That said, the identity of the betrayer could have been handled as a double mystery, which would have been more interesting. 

At serial's end, Paul has a soothsaying dream and learns several secrets of Arrakis and spice.  It's all very arbitrary and unsatisfying. 

Herbert has created something like a well researched but dry encyclopedia article on a fascinating topic.  I wanted to know more about Arrakis and Paul's prophecy, but getting through the (half) novel was often a slog. 

Maybe a good editor will help Herbert polish this up before its inevitable publication as a book.

Three stars for this installment and for the book as a whole.

Rx for Chaos, by Christopher Anvil

Another entry in the "Unintended Consequences of Science" department: Hangover-killing "De-tox" pills become bestsellers, but they also inhibit creativity and give rise to a fascist, anti-intellectual movement.  It's typical Analog Anvil, written with tongue firmly lodged in cheek.  It rates three stars, barely.

Names for Space Plants, by John Becker

Lots of words in these three short pages, but I've no idea what Becker is actually trying to say.  One star.

The Analytic Laboratory

Add it all up, and Analog scores a limp 2.1 stars, only beaten for badness by this month's Amazing (2 stars even).  F&SF is barely better at 2.2; Fantastic gets 2.6 but at least it's got a good Dick in it.  Galaxy's 3 stars is also, in part, thanks to its Dick story.  The only unalloyed triumph is the February New Worlds, which garnered 3.6 stars.

Women made up just two of the 38 authors who wrote fiction for magazines this month. 

As for books, again, it was the British stuff that stood out.  Brian Aldiss' new fix-up got four stars, per Jason Sacks, whereas neither this month's Ace Double nor Laurence Janifer's second effort stunned.

Next month is my birthday month, though, and I'm certain the writers in my favorite genre wouldn't let me down on my 39th birthday.

Right?

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[December 13, 1963] SLOW-DOWN (the January 1964 Amazing)

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by John Boston

The shock of President Kennedy’s assassination remains new and raw in the public consciousness and public discourse, but there are starting to be some discordant notes.  Malcolm X, one of the leaders of the Nation of Islam—the Black Muslims in common parlance—who seems to have appointed himself as the skunk at America’s picnic, was asked about the assassination a couple of weeks ago and described it as a case of “chickens coming home to roost,” which he said “never did make me sad; they've always made me glad.”

Apparently he meant to suggest that the assassination had some relationship to our government’s actions around the world—and of course he is not the only one to make this connection, though it remains to be investigated.  Needless to say he was roundly condemned by everyone in sight, including his own organization, which censured him and barred him from public speaking for three months.

Oh, well.  In Malcolm’s absence, we have the January Amazing to chew on.  Not surprisingly, given this magazine’s manic-depressive history, it is gristlier and less nutritious than last month’s unusually tasty issue.

Speed-Up!, by Christopher Anvil

When a writer seems to have a lock on a high-paying market and suddenly appears in a low-paying one, one of two things has happened: it’s a pretty bad story, or it has hit one of the higher-paying editor’s blind spots.  Or maybe both.  Christopher Anvil has had 21 stories in the SF mags since January 1960, all but three in Analog.  Yet here he is in Amazing, where he’s never appeared before, with Speed-Up! (exclamation point his, or the editor’s). 

This is a story which juggles multiple elements of dubious plausibility, including not one but two psi talents, and only manages to integrate them by blowing the whole thing up, as the cover illustration suggests.  And one of those elements is a movement that thinks science is too dangerous and should be stopped—and is proven right!  On the other hand, it is a pleasant enough read, unlike some of Anvil’s Analog stories: tightly constrained exercises within the confines of editorial expectations, which create a reading experience reminiscent of anoxia.  Two stars.

The Happiness Rock, by Albert Teichner

Albert R. Teichner’s The Happiness Rock is an annoying morality tale of the oh-so-conventional kind, anoxia compounded by anesthesia.  Officer Cramer and Captain Hartley are exploring the asteroids and, landing on one, find silicon dust that makes people happy upon inhalation, without noticeable impairment or physical addiction.  It proves to be a silicon microorganism, but the silicon seems to be quickly metabolized with no lasting effects.  The corrupt Captain keeps the discovery secret and shuts Cramer up, unknowingly abetted by their cartoon military martinet of a superior, who places Cramer in an unlikely status of Probation that keeps him silent, while the Captain takes the dust to his shady friends on Earth to help him covertly market it. 

Cramer struggles to find a way to blow the whistle on this racket.  Why?  Because this seemingly harmless euphoria must exact some terrible price, just because, and of course it does, quite arbitrarily.  The story goes on for 25 pages, most of them unnecessary: mediocre writing skills in the service of cliched thought.  One star.

Skeleton Men of Jupiter, by Edgar Rice Burroughs

Edgar Rice Burroughs is back (one is tempted to say “from the grave, again”) with Skeleton Men of Jupiter, from the February 1943 issue of Amazing, where it should have stayed.  It is labelled a Classic Reprint, but is not decorated or burdened with the usual Sam Moskowitz introduction.  It is another in the series about John Carter of Mars, or Barsoom, and opens with his being kidnapped by the cadaverous characters of the title. 

Oh no.  Not this again.  I read some of the John Carter books a while back, and that seems to be the main plot motivator of Burroughs’s work: kidnappings and captures, followed by the obligatory escape and rescue efforts.  The skeleton men are led, or served, by a red man of Mars, who explains that he is here because his aristocratic girlfriend Vaja was kidnapp…wait a minute.  This is three pages after the first kidnapping.  How many of these are we going to get in this fifty-plus-page story? 

Slogging on: the red man of Mars, U Dan, tells his sad story of servitude in the cause of Vaja to a faction of Jovians, or Sasoomians in ERB’s cosmology, who of course are seeking world domination; they’ve got Sasoom and now they want Barsoom, and are they evil. U Dan says: “They are fiends. . . . when I learned that Vaja would be tortured and mutilated after Multis Par had had his way with her and even then not be allowed to die but kept for future torture, I weakened and gave in.”

Well, life is too short for this.  Literarily speaking, we have moved from the realm of anoxia and anesthesia to that of morbidity and mortality.  In the spirit of the season, bah humbug.  One star and a pile of dust.

Interstellar Flight, by Ben Bova

Those three are the only fiction items in the magazine, anything else having been crowded out by fifty pages of Burroughs.  There is another article by Ben Bova, Interstellar Flight, in which the usually slightly dull author gets positively giddy.  The blurb warns us: “With factual tongue and a lot of imaginative cheek, our man Bova explores the possibility of [title].” And . . . oh no, he’s everywhere!  The article begins with an imaginary TV show panel with an imaginary SF writer, who begins: “Edgar Rice Burroughs, writing some 50 years ago. . . .”

Averting my eyes briefly, I move on.  SF writer says we must go to the stars, physicist says “Impossible!” and explains why, engineer and astronomer chime in with assorted factual constraints, mathematician gets into the act, and the problems of interstellar travel are laid out reasonably neatly.  Then: “ ‘Excuse me,’ said the astronomer.  ‘Have any of you ever heard of the Bussard Interstellar Ramjet?’ ”

Now that you mention it, no.  It’s actually a pretty interesting idea for sublight but very fast travel: take just enough fuel to get moving fast enough (and build a scoop big enough) to take advantage of the clouds of hydrogen gas floating around most places in the galaxy, and use them as fuel for fusion; the faster you go, the more fuel you can gather, so the faster you can go.  This doesn’t solve the problem of relativistic time dilation—but so what?  Somebody will want to go, and maybe take the whole family! Most satisfyingly, Bova concludes: “Edgar Rice Burroughs, hah!”

Well, that was actually informative, and less dull than usual, though slightly marred by the absence of the customary completely inappropriate Virgil Finlay illustration .  Three stars—the brightest spot in this otherwise bleak landscape. 

Summing up

Feh.

Next month, the editor promises a novella by the capable and prolific John Brunner, who has not previously appeared in the magazine, and, one hopes, may provide enough publishable copy to keep away the shade of ERB.

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[November 1, 1963] Bitter taste (November 1963 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

I have a friend, a gentle and curious soul, whose hobby is to procure aged military rations and try them out.  Though they are often long past their expiration date, nevertheless, Steve tucks into this hoary stuff like it's haute cuisine.  C-Rats from the last war, rations from the Great War — why, I once even saw him sample Bully Beef from the Boer War.  He's essentially indulging in culinary Russian Roulette.  Like, crazy right?

This month, I was Steve, and the November 1963 Analog was the bullet in the revolver.

Seagoing "Space" Ships, by Charles Layng

The non-fiction piece this month is about the pair of blue-ocean tracking ships that were custom built for the Air Force.  I'd read about them in Aviation Weekly so I was keen to learn more.  Sadly, Mr. Layng takes a potentially fascinating topic and buries it under dull technical minutiae.  It's not enough that an article tell you how something works; it must tell you why it's important.  Two stars.

Take the Reason Prisoner, by John J. McGuire

Prisons in the future are run by the military, and convicts have short sentences.  Rather than while away their lives for nickels and dimes at Joliet, instead they are hypno-conditioned with drugs and psychotherapy such that they can be released quickly.

At least, I think that's the premise.  The story features one General Bennington on the day of his appointment to warden at Duncannon Processing Prison, where he is eager to address the recidivism rate.  His efforts are immediately stymied when a fresh batch of 35 convicts riots and seizes control of the facility, their conditioning subverted by a guard on the take.  One prisoner, a psychopathic serial killer with a taste for flashy murder, wends a bloody course through Harrisburg, Pennsylvania before being caught.

What's never addressed is why the conditioning is not effective treatment when the process is administered properly, nor even how the whole setup came to be or is supposed to work.  Moreover, there is a glib tone of authoritarianism throughout the piece, with the end degenerating into a paean for the death penalty.  It's a difficult read, to boot, sketchy and confusing.  I think the author was trying for "experimental."

In fact, John J. McGuire is a marginal writer, having published little, and less on his own (most was in collaboration with H. Beam Piper).  This is a common theme with the authors running through this issue, as you'll see. 

One star.

Pleasant Journey, by Richard F. Thieme

What if a simple chair-and-helmet contraption could send you into a private nirvana, a perfectly real simulacrum of a personal paradise?  Imagine the potential for addiction, the detrimental effect on society. 

Thieme, a brand new author, affords us a vivid glimpse at the experience of using a such a machine, though in just two bedsheet pages, he can't expand much upon the consequences.  Three stars.

Interview, by Frank A. Javor

Javor's fourth story, Interview is another vignette, an "if this goes on" piece extrapolating current trends in news reporting in which the crisis is often exaggerated (if not outright manufactured) for dramatic value.  Three stars.

Where I Wasn't Going (Part 2 of 2), by Walt Richmond and Leigh Richmond

I decided to give this serial a second chance.  After all — maybe it just had a rough start.  I nearly fell asleep just during the summary, a technical snooze-fest.  The story, itself, is about the romp that ensues after a couple of space-station based scientists develop a reactionless drive, the test of which accidentally destroys Thule Air Force Base in Greenland. 

Sound like a comedy?  It's not supposed to be.  Unless you find bad dialogue, bigoted caricature characters, and sheer dullness funny.  And yes, this is the first published creation of the Richmonds.  One star.

Problem of Command, by Christopher Anvil

Last up is a piece written to order for Editor Campbell in which an ambitious colonel throws away his chance at Brigadier's star when he argues against a plan, advanced by his boss, to destroy the Soviet Union with a wonder weapon.  Turns out, of course, that his boss and his boss' boss were in collusion to find an officer with the gumption to stand up to their superior.  And for bonus, it appears the brave-hearted General-to-be will win his boss' boss' daughter in the bargain for his daring.

Two stars.  Even if the plot is laughable, the story is written in English.  Anvil, by the way, is the only experienced author in the issue.

That squishy sound you hear is my collecting brain tissue back into my skull.  At 1.8 stars, the November 1963 issue of Analog is the worst issue of the magazine since it changed its name from Astounding.  Worse yet, this has been a lousy month for magazines in general.  Fantastic rated a dismal 2.2 while IF got just 2.3 stars.  Amazing's and World of Tomorrow's 2.8s are no great shakes, and frankly, I'd rate Amazing's "good" stories lower than John Boston did.  As for WoT, the best part of that mag is Dick's All we Marsmen, and that may not appeal to all of you.

Only New Worlds (3.2) and F&SF (3.6) broke the 3-star barrier, the latter also containing my favorite story of the month: Eight O'Clock in the Morning (Fred Saberhagen's Goodlife in WoT was a close second.) Woman authors composed just two out of thirty nine pieces.

So why do I keep doing this?  Why do I tempt fate every month?  I'm starting to wonder that, myself.  Hopefully, it's for your amusement and edification (I suffer so you don't have to).  And there is always the junkie's hope that I'll find a really good fix that lasts.

Here's hoping…

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

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


by Gideon Marcus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All Day Wednesday, by Richard Olin

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

The Happy Man, by Gerald W. Page

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

Not in the Literature, by Christopher Anvil

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

Spanner in the Works, by J. T. McIntosh

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

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

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

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

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




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[Dec. 31, 1962] So it goes… (January 1963 Analog)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

It is said that "No news is good news," but I imagine every publisher would disagree.  After the big-ticket headlines of October of November involving the Cuban and Chinese/Indian episodes things have quieted down on the domestic and world fronts.  The Cold War has thawed such that the only current evidence is a holey wall in Berlin and a small brushfire in Indochina.  The Katanga crisis in The Congo approaches resolution.  Even the latest manned space shot was a bore – six perfect orbits.  The biggest news is about something that hasn't happened yet: Kennedy wants to lower taxes significantly to spur the economy.  Of course, Conservatives oppose the move as they don't want to blow a hole in the deficit (a position I'm sure they will hold eternally).

This month's Analog, the last sf digest of the month, complements the news situation.  It's filled with pages and pages of pages, none of which will likely stick with you long after you set it down.  The stories in this month's issue don't even have the virtue of being terrible.  Just redolent in that smug mediocrity that so frequently characterizes this mag, once the flagship of science fiction.

"The Hard Way", by Gordon R. Dickson

An alien interstellar scoutship stumbles across a human derelict ship, spurring its captain, Kator, member of a rapacious felinoid race, to dream of conquest of the Earth.  Kator is dispatched to the solar system to surveil our defenses, find a weakness, and return to his homeworld to take charge of the invasion fleet. 

Kator finds Earth to be a curiously undefended planet, weapons seemingly nonexistent.  The cat-man finds this state improbable given our warlike history and quickly deduces that we store our weapons underground.  Thus ensues his mission of subterranean espionage, fraught with an increasingly difficult set of physical and mental challenges.  Is it just a run of bad luck?  Or a complicated trap set-up by the humans to evaluate would-be competitors?

Well, I won't leave you in suspense.  Campbell's the editor of Analog, and all of his stories feature Terran supremacy if he can help it.  As well-drawn as the first half this story is (Dickson really is an excellent author when he's not writing for Campbell), I just knew that it would end with a human waggling his superior finger at Kator, lecturing the felinoid that trying to subjugate Earth is a fool's errand. 

Setting aside the utter implausibility of the story, which requires an omniscience even Campbell's humans shouldn't be capable of, this kind of fatuous tale sticks in my craw.  Two stars.

Philosopher's Stone, by Christopher Anvil

Who will win the economic Cold War between the US and USSR?  It turns out it's the UK, which brings nobility and social stratification back as rewards for effecting (but not inventing) technological advance.  Because, apparently, money just isn't enough incentive. 

This paean to aristocracy, particularly the self-satisfied ending, isn't worth your time.  Two stars.

The Common Man, by Guy McCord

Three biochemists in concert discover a serum of invisibility.  One wants to give the formula to the the government, another feels the secret too dangerous to communicate.  The third proposes an experiment: under controlled conditions, provide the serum to an average American and see what he does with it.

Well, as one might expect, the power of complete stealth proves too heady a temptation for mortals.  The ambitious guinea pig uses his abilities to amass great wealth, build a criminal network, and capture the scientist trio.  His plan is nothing less than global domination.  Only the ingenuity of the scientists and the carelessness of the test subject put an end to the frightening turn of events.

I feel that this story could have said so much more than it did.  What could have been a horrifying illustration of the corruption of absolute power, or an illustration of how science (so often perceived as the unalloyed agent of positive progress) is often the handmaiden to misery, is reduced to a pat "eggheads really are the smart ones" piece.  It's a pity.  I've seen better from this author.  Well, not quite this author – "Guy McCord" is a new name to me, but given that "Mack" Reynolds' full name is Dallas McCord Reynolds, I'm pretty sure The Common Man is by the Analog regular who gave us the (much better) Mercenary.  Three stars.

The Search for Our Ancestors, by Prof. G. M. McKinley

We have learned so much about the evolution of humans recently, thanks to the work of Leakey's archaeology in Africa (and to some extent, Goodall's work with chimpanzees, too).  McKinley's article is a fascinating but sloppy summary of the current state of understanding in the field.  Three stars.

Space Viking (Part 3 of 4), by H. Beam Piper

Last up is the next segment in Piper's answer to Asimov's Foundation, in which the wreckage of the Old Federation is slowly knit back together by Prince Trask, Space Viking of planet Tanith.  This installment retains the same positives and negatives of the prior two: an interesting universe and plot marred by sketchy execution (almost an outline of a story) and a jarring paucity of female characters.  I'm still rankling at Piper's killing of Trask's bride, Elaine, in the first act of the novel to provide Trask with character motivation.  I will say concede, however, that the introduction of the young Crown Princess of Marduk in this episode is promising.  Three stars.

This being the last magazine for the month, we now can review the numbers for January 1963.  IF comes up the winner at 3.3 stars, while Amazing (3 stars) had the two best stories one of them being the only woman-penned story.  F&SF was the worst, at 2.3 stars.  Average for the entire month was a dreary 2.77 stars, but there are enough high-quality works to fill a good single digest.  Read those, and you'll be satisfied!

Next up – a look at the fantasy and horror films of 1962!

[P.S. If you want the chance to nominate Galactic Journey for Best Fanzine next year, you need to register for WorldCon before the end of the year! (or have registered last year… but then you can only nominate, not vote.) The Journey will be at next year's WorldCon, so don't miss your chance to meet us and please help put us on the ballot for Best Fanzine!]




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[Sep. 25, 1962] Peaks and Valleys (October 1962 Analog)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

There are two poles when it comes to how science fiction magazines like to fill their pages.  The Fantasy and Science Fiction approach involves lots of short stories — it makes for an impressive Table of Contents and a lot of bite-sized pieces.  Analog tends toward the other extreme: its stories tend to be novellas and serials, and you only get 4-5 piece of fiction each issue.  As a result, the average quality of any given issue relies on a very few pieces.  With Analog, if you don't like several of the authors, you're pretty much out of luck (and 50 cents). 

The October 1962 Analog is, fortunately, not that bad, but a wide swath of it is taken up with a pretty lousy novella.  If I'd started with it, I don't know if I'd have made it to the rest of the magazine.  It's a good thing I read from the back first…

Ethical Quotient, by John T. Phillifent

You've probably run into the British author, Mr. Phillifent, under his more common pseudonym, "John Rackham."  Quotient takes up the most real estate of any piece in the issue, and it's a shame.  The set-up is pure Campbell, with a Terran science-historian winning a trip aboard Earth's first starship to meet the superior, psionically endowed humanoids of the Galactic Federation.  To ensure his safety, the historian is surgically equipped with a psychic transmitter that mimics the native powers of the aliens. 

In short order, the Earther is beset by murderers, whom he dispatches with his uncommon athletic ability.  A beautiful princess, daughter of the noble whose cabin was hastily vacated to give the historian passage on the starship, also gets involved. 

As to what happens next?  Well…I can't tell you.  You see, I made several attempts to finish this story, and I found myself continually foundering on the shoals of page 20 (of 55!) Somehow, I kept finding the newspaper, or The Andy Griffith Show, or this month's excellent issue of Fantastic more worthy of my attention.

I give up.  One star.  Let me know what I missed.

… After a Few Words …, by Seaton McKettrig

I've never head of McKettrig.  He's either new or (more likely with Analog) someone writing pseudonymously.  The title of this piece gives the gimmick away of this short tale of the First Crusade, but it's not bad, and the idea of the "televicarion" is an interesting one.  Three stars.

Gadget vs. Trend, by Christopher Anvil

Sometimes the transformative effects of a technology on society are subtle and slow; other times, they are dramatic and quick.  For instance, the creation of linen-based "rag" paper provided a welcome improvement over parchment, but it was the development of Gutenberg's printing press (which used the fine paper) that caused a revolution.

Anvil's Gadget explores the latter kind of invention, a "quasi-electron" barrier developed in the 1970s that leads to complete societal chaos.  Short, punchy, and pleasantly satirical, it's one of the better stories Anvil has produced for Analog.  Three stars.

Hypergolicity, by Edward C. Walterscheid

I generally anticipate Analog's science fact articles with a sense of dread.  They are often not worth the slick paper they are printed on (in an attempt to add respectability to his magazine, editor Campbell has included about 20 pages of magazine-quality paper for a couple of years now.) Walterscheid takes on a genuinely interesting and current topic: the use of spontaneously igniting fuel and oxidizer mixes for rockets.  These combinations are frightfully dangerous, but also convenient, for no spark or fuse is required to set them off, and rockets that employ hypergolics can stop and restart their engines.

It's technical and not as adeptly written as Asimov's or Ley's stuff, but I found it highly informative.  Three stars.

A Life for the Stars (Part 2 of 2), by James Blish

Since my report on the first half of Blish's newest novel, I have learned that the "Oakie" setting, featuring nomadic Earth cities powered by faster-than-light "spindizzy" drives, has been around at least since 1950, when Bindlestiff was published.  If the other entries in this universe are as good as A Life for the Stars, then I have some catching up to do.

When we last left our hero, Crispin deFord, an impressed resident of the spacefaring city of Scranton, he had been exchanged for food to the much larger community of New York.  As a promising citizen-candidate, guaranteed immortality should he be granted the franchise, Chris is force-fed a torrent of computer-inscribed education so that his true calling might be made evident by his 18th birthday.

But space is a dangerous place, and the potential for planetside treachery, shipboard revolution, or even inter-city conflict is high.  Suffice it to say that Chris has several adventures in store for him before he can become a full-fledged New Yorker…and that outcome is far from certain.

The pacing, writing, and characterization are all excellent, and if it occasionally feels as though history and society have stood still for the Oakie universe since 1960, it can be forgiven for all the novel inventions Blish presents.  Aside from the flying communities, there are also the "City Fathers," benevolent computers that guide, but don't run, the cities; beamed power that wirelessly runs the electronics; the powered military armor reminiscent of, but presumably predating, Heinelin's Starship Troopers; and more.  Five stars, and I'm betting it'll be on 1963's Hugo shortlist. 

Buy this issue for, if nothing else, the Blish. 




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[August 30, 1962] Flawed set (September 1962 Analog)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

In the Soviet Union, they have an interesting grocery practice.  Food production is, of course, nationalized.  Thus, there are quotas that manufacturers are supposed to reach.  Provided you have enough klass (social clout in the "classless society"), you can order a great many desirable foods for your office, your restaurant, your institute.  Sausage, chocolates, and so on.  However, you generally can't order these items individually.  Rather, you request a set of items. 

For instance, one might want coffee, but the set also includes chocolate, sugar, and cookies — whether you need them or not.  The cookies might be several years old, the chocolate might be stale, or there might not even be any coffee.  Or you could get lucky. 

Maybe you want a kilo of fresh beef, but you can only get it with two cans of pressed meat, a kilo of hamburger meat, and a kilo of frozen vegetables.  Well, why not?  But when it arrives, the vegetables are freezer burned and the hamburger is green on the inside.  At least you got the beef and the SPAM, right?

The science fiction digest, Analog, is much the same.  For the past few years, the general pattern has been for the magazine to include a serial of high quality, and the rest of the space larded out with substandard shorts and ridiculous "science" articles on crackpot topics. 

So enjoy your September 1962 Analog — it's what you ordered…and a lot more that you didn't:

A Life for the Stars (Part 1 of 2), by James Blish

This is the jewel of the issue, a fantastic piece about the twilight of the Earth.  After centuries of resource depletion and oppressive rule, humanity is spreading itself amongst the stars.  Whole cities are departing the Earth, powered by "spindizzy" anti-gravity drives.  Each is a small principality unto itself, trading with other settlements, space-borne and planet-bound. 

Our viewpoint is Crispin DeFord, a scrap-metal scrounger on the outskirts of Scranton just before the tired town plans to fly off to the heavens.  The tale is a little bit Heinlein (Citizen of the Galaxy in particular) and a bit more bucolic Simak.  The first half will grip you tight, and the second part will hold your interest, if not as strongly.  I am very keen to see where this goes.  Four stars.

The Winds of Time, by James H. Schmitz

This relic of the dawn of the Digest Era continues to write stuff in an aged vein.  This particular tale involves a little cargo ship, crew of one, hijacked by one of the two passengers.  He is a Villainous Time Traveler from the Future.  The Pilot must use his strength and cunning to rescue himself and the other passenger, a Girl, before the Villain's alien sidekick secures the ship permanently in the higher levels of hyperspace.

Actually, Winds wouldn't be such a bad story except that it reads more like an outline than a finished piece.  The sort of summary blurb that might accompany the latter portions of a serial rather than a stand-alone short.  Thus, it is tedious and disappointing.  Two stars.

The First Science, by Joseph F. Goodavage

Now this is vintage Analog, a full thirty pages devoted to a defense of astrology, of all things.  The argument goes something like this: many of our brightest lights in natural philosophy — Galileo, Kepler, Brahe, Newton — were all astrologers, and some of their predictions came true!  If those smart people believed in the stuff, aren't we fools not to?  I'm certain there was no cherrypicking of evidence on the part of Mr. Goodavage; after all, when I've looked for confirmation bias, I've always found it.

Why does this laughable thing get two stars instead of one?  There is some good biographical data in here, despite the ludicrous conclusion.  And there is a grim fascination as one reads, wondering if the shoe is really going to drop on the side of the most pseudo of pseudo-sciences.

Good Indian, by Mack Reynolds

A hundred years from now, the United States has so integrated that there is no such thing as a minority anymore — until three full-blooded Seminoles march into the Bureau for Indian Affairs and demand reparations for the Trail of Tears.  Played for laughs, and with a truly offensive ending, this is the sort of story I expect from Analog, but not from Reynolds.  One star.

The Professional Approach, by Leonard Lockhard

The legally adept Lockhard (really Theodore L. Thomas) provides another insight into the world of technical patents, this one involving a miracle invention and the attorney who falls a little too much in love with it.  As the Japanese say, "With love, even pockmarks become dimples," and so Approach's protagonist fails to find the fatal flaw in his client's creation…before too late.

Competent and fun, as always.  Three stars.

Sorcerer's Apprentice, by Christopher Anvil

Communism in Cuba is upended by little radio transmitters placed in the teeth by activist dentists.  These transmissions create an intense desire to work, independent of ideology or compensation.  Of course, one must never confuse motion for action, but that doesn't seem to be an issue in this piece.  I think it's supposed to be a satire on the undesirability of the moocherism of Communism and the cold ,ercantile nature of Capitalism… but I found it talky, implausible, and just plain dumb.  Par for the course for the material Anvil produces for Analog's editor, Campbell.  One star. 

Beyond Pandora, by Robert S. Martin

Finally, a short short gotcha piece where we find that the origin of the longevity serum is none other than… well, you can read it and find out, but you won't be surprised.  Two stars.

At 2.3 stars, Analog is not quite the worst magazine of the month (that award goes to Amazing with 2.2 stars), but it's awfully close.  And yet, the Blish is so good that you might find it worth 50 cents for that story alone.  Or you might wait for it to end and then buy the novel.

Thank goodness we live in the West and you have that option!

—

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[July 31, 1962] The Brass Mean (August 1962 Analog Science Fiction)

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[if you’re new to the Journey, read this to see what we’re all about!]


by Gideon Marcus

"I don't like science fiction."

How often have you heard this?  Loved ones, co-workers, indignant acquaintances with noses reared up to the sky will happily give you their opinion of our degenerate genre.  And it's a dumb opinion.

Why?  Because science fiction isn't a magazine or a story or an author.  It's a wide genre.  Saying "I don't like science fiction" is like saying "I don't like red books" or "I don't like movies that have dogs in them."  Sure, there's plenty of bad science fiction, in print and (especially) in film, but there's also, per Ted Sturgeon, about 10% gold – as in any genre.

Science fiction runs in quality from the humdrum, technical gotcha stories of the last two decades to the absolute peaks of sublimity (q.v. Cordwainer Smith, Zenna Henderson, etc.) Moreover, such ranges can generally be found even in individual sources; i.e. you can find both excellent and lousy stories in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Galaxy, or any other digest.

Of course, if anyone is going to be turned off of sf as a genre, it probably will be the humdrum, workmanlike stories that do it.  Not bad enough to be noteworthy, not good enough to be recommended — just dull, mediocre stuff.

And that's what we have a lot of in the August 1962 Analog, a magazine that will only contribute to the notion that science fiction just ain't that good. 

The Toughest Opponent, by Christopher Anvil

The Terran "Special Effects" corps is back with their herd of psychically controlled animals: gorillas, lions, yellow-jackets, even a giant (artificial) snake.  Last time, they quelled a civil war.  This time around, they are helping a beleaguered base defeat a Malthusian nightmare of humanoid bezerkers on an uncivilized, overpopulated planet. 

There is some nice characterization in this one, or at least, the characters are recognizable through their characteristics.  But it drags somehow, and the payoff isn't worth it.  The first of several stories in this book I'd give 2.5 stars to if I allowed half-stars in story reviews.  Instead, I'll be uncharitable and say "two stars."

The Bramble Bush, by Randall Garrett

A moonbase nuclear reactor goes critical, and it's up to one plucky fellow to keep its twin from exploding until help can arrive.  Garrett goes through a lot of trouble to set up the chemistry of the reactor technology (which does not conform to current theory) such that the solution seems less clever than arbitrary.  I did appreciate the portrayal of the hero's indecisive crewmate — not everyone is a man-of-action.  Less appreciated is Garrett's need to pun at every opportunity.  Another 2.5 downgraded to two stars story. 

Watch the Sky, by James H. Schmitz

German cum Californian James Schmitz is an interesting writer, never quite hitting it out of the park, but rarely turning in junk, either.  Watch the Sky, about a backwoods colony that tries to manufacture an alien threat to secure funding for a bigger military base, starts promisingly but ends weak.  Forgettable, but not offensive.  Two stars.

The Big Job of Moving Little Things and The Color of Space, by John W. Campbell, Jr.

Amazingly, perhaps my favorite part of the issue includes Campbell's "slick" nonfiction sections.  The first is a photo parade illustrating a new synchrotron that accelerates and smashes particles; scientists can then sift through the debris for exotic subatomic particles.  Not much substance to the piece, but the pictures are pretty.

The second, shorter piece references the cover and notes how we can get color photographs of deep space objects.  Mind you, these are not colors that any human observer would ever see — the light levels are too dim for us to discern anything but black and white.  Nevertheless, the colors do exist, and they can be extracted using clever techniques. 

Three stars in amalgam.

Border, Breed Nor Birth (Part 2 of 2) , by Mack Reynolds

Last up is Part 2 of Reynolds' continuing saga of North Africa.  El Hassan (formerly Homer Crawford of the Unites States of the Americas) becomes increasingly aloof and dictatorial has his band of idealists attempts to unify the Mahgreb.  It's readable, and the attention to cultural detail is excellent.  Also, a story that features naught but Black characters is refreshing.  However, the piece feels passionless, as if Reynolds was rushing through its production for the paycheck.  I liked it, but I didn't love it.  Three stars.

Where does that leave us for the month?  F&SF is at the bottom of the pack with a dismal 2.4 stars.  Analog is just above at 2.5 (and a different kind of bad — where the former was wildly inconsistent, the latter was unremarkable).  Amazing does slightly better at 2.6, with similar issues as Analog.  Galaxy had the highly entertaining The Dragonmasters, which means it has the best story, even though it only garnered 2.9 stars.  And Fantastic was the surprise winner with 3.1 stars — it was good enough that I took the time to read through the choicer bits.

Disappointingly, there was just one woman author this month, Rosel George Brown, making appearances in two magazines. 

Next month, we have a pleasant surprise: in addition to the five American digests, we have a guest correspondent covering the September 1962 issue of New Worlds!  Be sure to budget a good amount of time for reading…

—

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[February 26, 1962] Record Beating (March 1962 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

You've almost assuredly heard of Radio Corporation of America (RCA).  They make radios (naturally), but also record players, televisions, computers.  They have produced the foundations of modern consumer electronics, including the color television standard and the 45 rpm record.  And now, they've really outdone themselves: they've created cassettes for tape recording.

Until now, if you wanted to listen to music or a radio show, you had to either buy it as a pre-recorded album or record it yourself.  The only good medium for this was the Reel to Reel tape recorder – great quality, but rather a bother.  I've never gotten good at threading those reels, and storing them can be a hassle (tape gets crinkled, the reels unspool easily, etc.).  With these new cassettes, recording becomes a snap.  If the price goes down, I'll have to get me one.

What brought up this technological tidbit?  Read on about the March 1962 Analog, and the motivation for this introduction will be immediately apparent.

His Master's Voice, by Randall Garrett

The RCA-themed title for Garrett's latest is most appropriate.  Voice is the next in the exploits of the ship called McGuire.  As we learned in the first story, McGuire is a sentient spacecraft that has imprinted on a specific person – an interplanetary double-agent working for the United Nations.  Like the last story, Voice is a whodunnit, and a bit better handled one than before, as well.  Garrett's slowly improving, it seems.  Three stars.

Uncalculated Risk, by Christopher Anvil

Every silver lining has a cloud, and every scientific advance is a double-edged sword.  Anvil likes his scientific misadventure satires.  This one, about a soil additive that proves potentially subtractive to the world's arable land, is preachy but fun.  Three stars.

Rough Beast, by Roger Dee

The most fearsome carnivore in the known universe breaks free from an interstellar zoo and runs amok on one of the Floria Keys.  Can a group of scientists, a host of pacifist aliens, one cranky moonshiner, and a nervous tomcat stop the creature in time?  A shaky, over-adjectived beginning, but the rest is a lot of fun (and I guessed the ending moments before it was revealed).  Four stars.

The Iron Jackass, by John Brunner

Brunner is a prolific author whose work I've rarely encountered, perhaps because he's based across the pond; Rosemary Benton plans to review his newest book next month.  Jackass is a fun tale involving an off-world steel mill, the Central European miners who work it and shun automation, and the robots that threaten to put the miners out of business.  I saw shades, in Jackass, of the recent Route 66 episode, First-Class Mouliak, which took place in a Polish steel community in Pennsylvania.  Three stars. 

Power Supplies for Space Vehicles (Part 2 of 2), by J. B. Friedenberg

Mr. Friedenberg has returned to tell us more about motors of the space age.  This time, it's all about solar-heated turbines, and it's just about as exciting as last time.  I give credit to Friedenberg for his comprehensiveness, if not his ability to entertain.  Two stars.

Epilogue, by Poul Anderson

Anderson is going through a phase, digging on somber, after-the-end stories (witness After Doomsday).  His latest novella takes place fully three billion years in the future, after humanity has destroyed itself and self-repairing and replicating machines have taken over.  Sparks fly between silicon and carbon-based life when a crew of time-lost humans returns to its mother planet for one last farewell. 

An excellent idea, and Anderson's typically deft characterizations, are somewhat mitigated by robots that are a bit too conventional in their culture (no matter how radical their physiology), and by the fact that, in the end, Epilogue becomes a straight technical puzzle story.  Four stars.

The Numbers

This all adds up to a 3.2-star issue, respectable for any magazine and downright shocking for Analog.  This makes it the #2 digest for March 1962 (behind F&SF at 3.8, and ahead of IF (3.2), Amazing (2.8), and Fantastic (2.5).  Women once again wrote just two of this month's pieces, one of which was a tiny poem.  The best stories came out in F&SF, the best of which is hard to determine – the Pangborn, the Young, or the Wellman?

Stay tuned for Fantastic to start the exciting month of March!

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