Tag Archives: David I Masson

Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[January 14, 1967] First batch (January Galactoscope)

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Big, But . . .


by John Boston

No matter if you don’t believe in Santa Claus. Judith Merril is back with another volume of her annual anthology, 11th Annual Edition the Year’s Best S-F (sic), from Delacorte Press just in time for the Christmas trade. If you missed the boat on Christmas, surely you can make it work for Valentine’s Day.


by Ziel

The overall package is familiar: 384 pages thick, a crowded contents page, a short introduction, but lots of running commentary between items, sometimes about the stories or authors and sometimes, it seems, about whatever crosses Merril’s mind as she assembles the book. There is the usual Summation at the end, but the extensive Honorable Mentions listing is gone, though she mentions some items that didn’t make the cut in the Summation and commentary.

The contents are eclectic as usual, but let Merril tell it: “The stories and poems and essays here have been selected from as wide a range as I could cover of books and periodicals published here and in England last year. About half the entries are from the genre magazines. The rest are from books and from such diverse sources as Mademoiselle and Escapade, The Colorado Quarterly and the Washington Post, Playboy and the Saturday Review (and Ambit and King in England).” “Of the year” in the title is notional at best. This volume includes a story by Jorge Luis Borges, The Circular Ruins, which dates from 1940, and an . . . item . . . by Alfred Jarry, who died in 1907.

The usual disclaimer is here, too. From the Introduction:

“This is not a collection of science-fiction stories.

“It does have some science fiction in it—I think. (It gets a little more difficult each year to decide which ones are really science fiction—and frankly I don’t much try any more.)”

Unfortunately this year’s book falls short of most of its predecessors to my taste. Unusually, some of the selections by the biggest-name authors are strikingly lackluster. Isaac Asimov’s Eyes Do More than See, from F&SF, is a short piece of annoying pseudo-profundity about the down side of becoming a disembodied energy being. Gordon R. Dickson’s Warrior (from Analog), part of his militaristic Dorsai series, gives us a protagonist who is such a comprehensive superman that his enemies are rendered helpless by his mere presence, and the story turns quickly into self-parody. J.G. Ballard is represented by one very fine story, The Drowned Giant, from Playboy, and another, The Volcano Dances, which reads like a parody of his recurrent theme of humans happily pursuing self-destructive obsessions: his protagonist takes up residence near a volcano that’s about to blow, refuses all entreaties to leave, and at the end is apparently heading towards it as the volcano’s rumbling becomes more ominous.

There is a decided swerve this year towards the British magazines New Worlds and Science Fantasy, with four stories from each here. The best of this lot is David I. Masson’s Traveler’s Rest (New Worlds), which depicts a world where the passage of time varies with latitude, much faster at the North Pole where a furious high-tech war is ongoing, and more slowly towards the equator where people live more or less normal lives. In some of the others, it is quite unclear what is going on, and purposefully: two of them are (or seem to be) narrated by mental patients (David Rome’s There’s a Starman in Ward 7 and Peter Redgrove’s long poem The Case (both from New Worlds)). Josephine Saxton’s The Wall (Science Fantasy) is a strange, haunting, allegorical-seeming story of lovers who never meet except through a small hole in a wall dividing a world that seems like some sort of artificial construct that they don’t understand and is unexplained to the reader.

As always, Merril has harvested some stories from non-genre sources, most sublimely Jorge Luis Borges’s The Circular Ruins, from 1940. It’s a metaphysical fantasy about a man who travels in a canoe to a ruined temple to carry out a mission: “He wanted to dream a man: he wanted to dream him with minute integrity and insert him into reality.” This story, resonantly translated from the Spanish, is the find of the book. Also noteworth is Game, by Donald Barthelme, from the New Yorker, about two guys locked in an underground bunker charged with dispatching nuclear missiles as ordered. They have gone months without relief and are pretty much nuts; it is strongly hinted that the war has happened and they’re never getting relieved. Gerald Kersh’s Somewhere Not Far from Here, from Playboy, is about some ragged revolutionaries against an unidentified tyranny; its portrayal of men struggling in extremity in mud and blood, in a seemingly hopeless cause, may be hokey but it contrasts sharply and favorably with Dickson’s absurd power fantasy of an effortlessly irresistible conqueror, discussed above. But there are also a number of less meritorious, and sometimes outright distasteful items from the non-SF press, including a remarkably sexist story by Harvey Jacobs, The Girl Who Drew the Gods, from Mademoiselle, of all places.

Summing Up

There’s a lot in this big book that’s perfectly adequate, but not so much that made me seriously glad to have read it, and a fair amount that seems silly, trivial, or distasteful. The best of the lot to my taste are mostly mentioned above; others include Arthur C. Clarke’s Maelstrom II, R.A. Lafferty’s Slow Tuesday Night, Johnny Byrne’s Yesterday’s Gardens, and Walter F. Moudy’s The Survivor. The other two-thirds of the book’s contents are things I don’t imagine I will ever think of again.

Interestingly, Merril herself expresses dissatisfaction with the current state of American SF, which she attributes to the lack of a “combining force” or “focal center”: “We have the writers; we have the markets; we have the readers. But nothing is happening to bring them together.” She compares this situation unfavorably to that in the UK. I don’t find this explanation very convincing. I am convinced that Merril would have a better book if she included a few longer stories and accepted a shorter contents page, and dropped a few of the less substantial items from prestigious sources.

As the Los Angeles Dodgers might say—wait ‘til next year.


by Gideon Marcus

The Quy Effect, by Arthur Sellings

This latest book by short story veteran, Arthur Sellings, starts with a literal bang. A factory has blown up, and Adolphe Quy, an eccentric inventor is the culprit. Seems he was doing experiments with an organic room-temperature superconductor, which got overloaded. But in the process, something even bigger was discovered: practical antigravity.

With a setup like that, you'd think this short novel would be about the effect such an invention would have on humanity. Indeed, for the first forty pages or so, Sellings seems to be taking forever to start the plot. Then you realize you've been anticipating the wrong book. The Quy Effect is about the trials and tribulations of a discredited inventor doing his best to bring to light a technology only he believes in.

Which means, of course, that there were two ways the book could have gone that would have been deeply dissatisfying. One is the John Campbell route, in which it is made obvious that everyone but Quy (pronounced 'kwe') is a moron, and the whole book is a satire of our stupid society that quells the inspirations of unsung geniuses. The other is the British route, which would have Quy end up in an insane asylum, the work being sold as "darkly humourous."

Thankfully, despite Sellings actually being British, he avoids both of these potentialities. Instead, The Quy Effect is a quite interesting set of character studies, one that kept me glued to the pages. It really is not certain throughout the entire book whether or not Quy will succeed. Nor does it seem that the odds are artificially stacked against him. Quy, in many ways, made the bed he's stuck in. Now he has to find his way out.

And while science, for the most part, takes a backseat in this book, I did appreciate the bit where Quy dismisses rocket-powered spaceflight as an economic dead end:

Rockets have got as much future as the dirigible airship had. A certain beauty, a kind of glamour, but too damn dangerous and cumbersome and expensive. Riding space in a pint-sized canister on top of a thousand tons of high explosive—that's not the way. We've got all the energy we want, if we can only use it. We shouldn't have to rely, in this day and age, on crude chemical reaction. Subject a man to ruinous accelerations because we have to carry a giant-size gas tank a minimum distance. What we need is more like a nuclear-powered submarine. Point its noise in the air and float up.

Only time will tell if he is right, but I've made similar assertions since Sputnik. I'm delighted to see the latest results from Explorer satellites, to watch the Olympics live from Tokyo (at 3 A.M., Pacific), and I thrill at grainy videos of spacewalking astronauts. But for the kind of mass space exodus so much of our science fiction is based on, I suspect Sellings' mouthpiece is right—rockets won't do the trick.

Anyway, going by the Budrys yardstick of quality (if one enjoys reading the book, it's good), The Quy Effect is very good, once one accepts it for what it is.

And what it is garners a full four stars.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics; Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Entropy


by Victoria Silverwolf

Agent of Chaos, by Norman Spinrad

It wasn't very long ago that I reviewed this young author's first novel. It's obvious that he keeps banging away at the typewriter steadily, because here comes another one.


Anonymous cover art, and a misleading blurb. Ending the human race isn't the goal of anybody in the story. And I don't think that calling a novel agonizing is a way to help sales.

I don't know about you, but when I pick up a book I like to look at the stuff that surrounds the text first. Front and back cover, dedication, preface or introduction, afterword, whatever. Let's flip this paperback over and see if we can learn anything.


Is it really possible for a new book to be a classic?

This blurb isn't much more accurate. The Brotherhood of Assassins isn't the dictatorship; that's the Hegemony. Allow me to explain.

Several centuries in the future, long after the two sides of the Cold War got together to avoid total destruction, the combined government known as the Hegemony rules the solar system. The oligarchy in charge controls every detail in the lives of their subjects, known as Wards. Any violation of the rules is punishable by death. The sheep-like Wards mostly accept this, because the Hegemony offers them peace and prosperity.

The Democratic League is an underground organization, literally and metaphorically. It opposes the Hegemony, and is willing to use violence to overthrow it. The novel begins on Mars, where Boris Johnson, a member of the Democratic League, is part of an elaborate plot to assassinate one of the oligarchs. The motive is to convince the Wards that the Democratic League is a serious threat to the Hegemony.

The third player in this deadly game is the Brotherhood of Assassins. Despite the name, the first thing this bunch does is prevent the killing of the oligarch. Like other things they've done in the past, this action seems completely random. Both the Hegemony and the Democratic League think of the Brotherhood of Assassins as deranged fanatics, dedicated to the philosophical writings of the fictional author Gregor Markowitz. Quotations from this fellow's books, which have titles like The Theory of Social Entropy and Chaos and Culture, introduce each chapter in the novel.

The story jumps around the solar system, with plenty of plots and counterplots, ranging from political intrigue within the oligarchy to mass violence. At times, the book reads like a cross between Ian Fleming and Keith Laumer. But Spinrad is trying to say something more profound, I think.

The Hegemony represents any established Order. The Democratic League represents the opposition to that Order. Ironically, that very opposition becomes part of a new Order. The Brotherhood of Assassins represents Chaos, working against both of the other groups. (In another touch of irony, this often means working with one or the other. Such paradoxes, we're told, are part of Chaos.)

There's a major plot twist about halfway through the novel that I won't reveal here. Suffice to say that something found in a lot of science fiction stories changes the situation drastically, leading to a dramatic ending involving the Ultimate Chaotic Act.

The book certainly held my interest. I'm not sure what to think about all the discussion of Order and Chaos, but it was intriguing. At times the novel is melodramatic. Overly familiar science fiction elements appear frequently, from moving sidewalks to laser guns.

One peculiar thing is that there are no female characters in the book, not even a minor one playing the typical role of the Girl. The closest we get to acknowledging that two sexes exist is a line describing a crowd of Wards as placid, indifferent-looking men and women. The Wards are just cannon fodder, casually slaughtered by the three competing forces, so they remain pretty much faceless.

That reminds me of the fact that there are no Good Guys in this novel. All sides are willing to kill to achieve their goals, including wiping out innocent bystanders. The author's sympathies seem to be with the forces of Chaos, but they definitely have as much blood on their hands as the forces of Order. (Why else would they call themselves the Brotherhood of Assassins?)

Overall, a provocative but frustrating book.

Three stars.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[July 28, 1966] Cat People and Overpopulation (SF Impulse and New Worlds, August 1966)

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After my brief mention at the end of last month about England and the soccer World Cup, I had better start by congratulating them on their tournament win since last time we spoke. The country does seem to have got behind them – indeed, there’s been little else talked about here since they won. Whilst I’m not a fan of football (soccer to you!) particularly, I must curmudgeonly admit that the mood of the country has been rather pleasant.

In this spirit of optimism and change, there’s also been some interesting changes with the British magazines. At the moment I’m not sure whether these changes have been made for good reasons or bad, but they might just stir life into the magazines that have rather been treading water on the whole over the last few months.


Cover by Keith Roberts – again!

To Impulse first.

Or rather SF Impulse. Notice the subtle change? The magazine seems to be trying to attract the interest of traditional readers by nailing its genre roots firmly to the mast. Interestingly, I understood that this was something the editor Kyril Bonfiglioli was keen not to do when the magazine changed its name to Impulse.

In fact, where is Kyril? The magazine has no Editorial at all this month, instead going with a “Critique” by Harry Harrison instead. This was mentioned in last month’s issue, although I was rather expecting Kyril to be about as well. Has he been deposed? Perhaps after his complaints about not knowing what an Editor does in the last few issues this leaves Kyril with more time to – you know – edit.

Let’s move on. To this month’s actual stories.

Make Room! Make Room! (Part 1 of 3), by Harry Harrison

When this was mentioned as coming up, I was very pleased. The magazine was going to have to do something big to cap Keith Roberts’ Pavane series for me, and this was clearly it.

Mind you, I have been less impressed with Harrison’s last two serialised novels, Plague From Space and Bill, the Galactic Hero (shudder.) But this one sounded great.

Whereas this is just the first part for us in Britain, being in the USA fellow Galactic Journey-er Jason Sacks has had the chance to read the whole novel, lucky thing. His wonderful review goes into much more depth and detail than I would here. So I will point out his review, with thanks, and say that so far I agree with everything he has said.

This is the best Harrison I’ve read in ages, if not one of the best stories in Impulse to date. Admittedly, its scenes of shabbiness and squalor are rather depressing, but its description of a world of overcrowded excess, crime and a lack of resources is done with imagination and flair. The situation is entirely possible and the characters appropriate for that setting. I hope the quality continues. I was so impressed, I’m awarding it 5 out of 5 – my first, I believe.

Wolves by Rob Sproat

After such a great start it would be difficult to maintain such a standard, and so we go from the great to the typical “Bonfiglioli filler”, had Kyril been here. This is the third story we’ve had in the magazines from Rob, none of which have particularly impressed me, sadly. And so it is again here. A story of creatures that have haunted Mankind for millennia and yet are rarely seen. When their presence is noted by a drunken man, he is killed. Lots of talk here about Ancient Ones that doesn’t seem to mean much. A weak horror story that is bleak and yet strangely predictable. 3 out of 5.

The First, Last Martyr by Peter Tate

Another relatively new author, who seems to be liked by many readers. His last story was The Gloom Pattern, in the June 1966 issue of New Worlds. This one is a tale of Hubert Flagg, a window dresser whose occupation makes him part of the pop-culture and yet inwardly he hates it. As an act of rebellion against current trends and to become a celebrity, Flagg attempts to kill people at a concert by the current pop favourite The Saddlebums, which I guess is not just a comment on society but also a bit of a dig at bands like The Beatles. On a good day this could have been a satire in the same vein as Moorcock’s Jerry Cornelius, but instead it just seems odd, and not in a particularly good way. 3 out of 5.

Disengagement, by T. F. Thompson

Another surreal ramble through the viewpoints of various characters. Think of it like an inferior Frankenstein story from multiple perspectives, a similar re-tread of clichés that seems all too similar to Robert Cheetham’s The Failure of Andrew Messiter in last month’s New Worlds. (Are new ideas really that hard to come by?)

It seems more like a Hammer Horror film than the “really chilly horror” the banner attempts to persuade me it is. Although actually I like Hammer Horror movies… this less so. Some of the characterisation is awful. Any story that has a character named “Doctor Dog” and tries to make a joke out of it deserves not to be taken seriously. Marks for effort, not originality. 2 out of 5.

A Comment by E. C. Tubb

E C Tubb returns with an opinion piece on the state of science fiction, rather akin to Harrison’s Critique at the beginning of the issue. Here Tubb takes on the thorny issue of sex in science-fiction, pointing out that it has been around longer than sf and it is wrong for the New Wave to “dwell on it”. To quote, “The more sex you put in a story the less action, characterisation, futuristic background, scientific content and plain, old, entertainment value you leave out.”

Whilst I understand the author’s point of view, it does read a little like one of the oldsters complaining about the new kids on the block.

The Scarlet Lady by Alistair Bevan

Lastly, back to the stories. Here we have the return of Alistair, a regular author but who is also author/editor/artist Keith Roberts. Both names have appeared regularly in these magazines.

Here Alistair continues an ongoing theme of motor car stories. His last was a rather excitable story of future traffic congestion, road rage and restrictive laws in the story Pace That Kills back in the May 1966 issue of Impulse. By contrast, this is a tale that attempts to emulate Weird Tales in its story of a possessed car and its effect on two brothers and their respective families. No reason is given for the automobile’s actions, which show a constant drain on the owner’s monetary funds and a taste for blood. Whilst it is – please pardon the expression – as cliched as hell, I must admit that I quite enjoyed it for all of its silliness. Some of the passages reminded me in style and tone of Roberts’ version of contemporary lifestyle as read in The Furies in July – September 1965. It is too long, but was a fun read. Much better than the last story, for all of its limitations. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

And that’s it for SF Impulse this month. At over 80 pages most of the magazine is taken up with Harrison’s novel, which is its selling point. As a result, I liked the issue a lot, even when the rest of the material suffers by comparison. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the Bevan story, even if it is repeating old cliches.

And with this, onto issue 165 of New Worlds, hoping that it is also better this month.

The Second Issue At Hand


Cover by Keith Roberts – him again!

Like last month’s New Worlds the Editorial is not by editor Moorcock, but a film review by a guest reviewer. Last month, La Jetee was praised by J. G. Ballard as something extraordinary.

This month, Alphaville directed by Jean-Luc Godard has a rather different response. Guest reviewer John Brunner begins his review with “Let’s get one thing straight to begin with. Alphaville is a disgracefully bad film, reflecting no credit to anybody – especially not on those critics who have puffed it as a major artistic achievement.” Well, that should certainly grab the reader’s attention!

To be fair, Brunner makes some good points, although the review really reminds me that all reviews are little but opinions and in this world the New Wave will gain as much criticism as praise. Our own Kris Vyas-Myall reviewed Alphaville, for example, and had a very different response. Interestingly, Brunner does add that La Jetee, reviewed by Ballard last month and seen by Brunner as a double-bill, completely overshadows Alphaville.

Brunner’s writing is entertaining, though, and as a deliberately provocative read is a much more interesting read than any of the other Editorials of late.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Amen and Out, by Brian Aldiss

Another appearance from Harry Harrison’s friend Brian Aldiss, who was also here last month. (Again: has anyone ever seen the two of them in one room together?) The cover describes this story as ”Irreverent, thought-provoking stuff that only Aldiss can do well”, which I agree with, although I would further qualify by pointing out that such irreverence can also lead to wildly uneven material from Mr. Aldiss.

(Where has “Dr. Peristyle” gone to, by the way? Just a thought.)

The good news is that this one is not quite as madcap as it could have been. Amen and Out is a story of a future where a number of characters with different backgrounds are at the Immortality Investigation Project – one is a supervisor of the immortals, one a young assistant, one an acid head itinerant and the other a doorman. They each communicate with their Gods, and are all consequently given instructions with various consequences for themselves and the Immortals held in the Project. The twist in the story is that the Gods are actually an AI. It’s good fun, and feels like Aldiss wrote it with a permanent grin on his face, though will no doubt offend anyone seriously beholden to a religion. A 4 out of 5.

The Rodent Laboratory, by Charles Platt

Charles Platt’s been a regular here for a while. This is a story of rats in a laboratory being observed as a group social experiment, and what can happen when the rats develop new behaviour and the scientific community watching them are put under stress. It gains points from me for being a ‘proper’ science-experiment-based story with a touch of the laboratory experiment pulp stories of the 1930s, although the ending is almost something out of Weird Tales. Overall, it reads well enough but feels like minor-league stuff, nothing we’ve not read before. 3 out of 5.


With a lack of artwork this month we have instead this quote, which seems to have inspired the story.

Stalemate in Time, by Charles L. Harness

I’ve mentioned in the past of Charles being a veteran author who seems to be trying to embrace the New Wave of writing. If sales of his novel The Rose are anything to go by, this has been popular, if met with varying degrees of success.

Here we have a reprint. The story was first published as Stalemate in Space back in 1949. Now renamed, it does feel like an old-style piece of pulp fiction. This is clearly intentional – the story begins with a purple-prosed quote from Planet Stories which seems to sum it up nicely. I’m not quite sure what Mike is trying to do here. Is this one of those examples to show that ‘the old stuff’ is still worth reading, as he did with Harness’s Time Trap back in the May 1965 issue? Or is it just filler? Whatever the reason, Stalemate in Space is an engaging if dated Space Opera story, which makes up with enthusiasm what it lacks in logic – but I wish the magazines would stop trying to sneak reprints to bulk out their issues. 3 out of 5.

Look On His Face, by John Kippax

William Kibbee is a Christian priest on a mission to the planet of Kristos V. Unsubtle, heavy-handed religious allegory. 2 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Transfinite Choice, by David Masson

The return of recent genre superstar David Masson whose sudden and dramatic appearance in these magazines has been stellar, although with slightly diminishing returns. Here is the story of Naverson Builth, who finds himself transported from 1972 to the year 2346. Lots of difficulties with language, which seems to be a Masson specialty, before we discover that Naverson finds himself working for a world government known as Direct Parameter Control. There are some interesting concepts put forward to Builth in this future, and some in turn suggested by Bulith, before the story crashes to a halt with a poor ending that we’ve come across before. Masson’s writing is still readable and still involves ambitiously big ideas, but I rather feel David has passed his peak. A slightly disappointing 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Keys to December by Roger Zelazny

I have repeatedly said that I think that Roger is one of the best American writers of recent years to have taken on the New Wave of science fiction and run with it. He keeps producing quality stories which are thoughtful, readable and also genuinely original. His last story here, For A Breath I Tarry, has been rightly nominated in this year’s Hugo Awards. So any return to these Brit magazines is something to be pleased about, I think.

And this is another cracker. The key premise is that in this future people can be adapted pre-birth in order to cope with the environment they will live on. It is different to the usual Zelazny fare, beingless philosophical and surprisingly hard-science-based, something that I could see Poul Anderson or Hal Clement writing.

To this Roger sets up a situation that Jarry Dark, a homeless Coldworld catform, his betrothed Sanza and his friends in the December Club who have put up the money, move to a planet where they will terraform the planet into something they can use. Whilst reconnoitring the planet they observe a species that they call Redform that even though thousands of years will pass to allow for adaptation will be unable to adapt in the face of their impending catastrophic event.

Knowing that the intelligent species will die but at the same time being unable to do anything about it sets up the sort of dilemma that challenges both the reader and the characters, and at the end gave me an emotional reaction akin to Tom Godwin’s The Cold Equations.

Surprisingly different for Zelazny, both elegaic and emotional, I can see this one being nominated for future awards. A high 4 out of 5.

Letters and Book Reviews

We begin this month with Bill Barclay giving a potted biography of writer and anthologist Sam Moskowitz and then reviewing Moskowitz’s latest book of biographical essays. It does sound interesting.

James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock) then covers a broad range of material. A highlight this month is Colvin being rather unsurprisingly unimpressed with Asimov’s novelisation of the movie Fantastic Voyage. The subtitle for this review, Per Ardua Ad Arteries did make me laugh, as well as the clinical evisceration of the novel.

The shorter reviews, all written by initialled reviewers, include story collection The Saliva Tree by a certain Brian W Aldiss, many of which have appeared in these magazines, Judith Merril’s 10th edition of The Year’s Best SF and the 15th volume of The Best from Fantasy and Science Fiction. All are liked – Zelazny comes out particularly well – though these three books show me the divide in style and content opening up between the old style stories and the so-called New Wave. Things are still changing….

Lastly there is a great review for Edgar Pangborn’s A Mirror for Observers, which ”stands head and shoulders above most sf”.

Very pleased to see the return of Letters pages this month. Generally detailed and thought-provoking, though generally still raking over the same themes of "What is SF?" and "What is this new SF?"

Summing up New Worlds

A stellar line up, with many of Moorcock’s favourite writers here. Whilst I could quibble and say that some of these stories from writers with a proven track record are not the author’s best, there are many that are very good. Aldiss is good but, unsurprisingly, Zelazny’s story is better. It’s not quite perfect (Kippax, I’m thinking of your story), but there’s a great deal of range and a good deal of quality. One of the best issues of New Worlds for a long time.

Summing up overall

A tough choice this month. Harrison’s novel is the best thing I’ve read here and dominates Impulse, quite rightly, although most of the rest are unmemorable. By contrast, the stories in New Worlds are not quite as good, but the range of the quality is greater. Zelazny’s story in New Worlds is as good as Harrison’s and this is the best New Worlds I’ve read for a few issues.

So – very pleased to say that both magazines have (thank goodness!) improved enormously this month. Whilst Harrison’s serial novel seriously impresses in the new SF Impulse, the range and breath of quality makes New Worlds the best this month. Let’s hope this continues. Must admit, the next New Worlds sounds good…

Until the next…



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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[June 24, 1966] Increments: World's Best Science Fiction: 1966, edited by Donald A. Wollheim and Terry Carr

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by John Boston

Donald A. Wollheim’s and Terry Carr’s World’s Best Science Fiction: 1966—second in this series—is here, so it’s time for the usual pontificating, hand-wringing, viewing with alarm, etc., as one prefers.  This one comes with not one but two blurbs from Judith Merril, their competitor, though the editors say nothing about her anthology series, the next volume of which is due at the end of the year.

The editors have regrettably pulled in their horns a little on the “World” front.  There are no translated stories in this volume, unlike the first; the editors claim that they read plenty of them, but them furriners just don’t cut the mustard.  More precisely, if not more plausibly, “what they have lacked is the advanced sophistication now to be found in the American and British s-f magazines.” Suffice it to say that there are virtues other than “advanced sophistication” and they may often be found outside one’s own culture. 


by Cosimo Scianna

Nor is there anything here from any of the non-specialist markets that have been publishing progressively more SF in recent years.  The only item here that did not originate in the US or UK SF magazines is Arthur C. Clarke’s Sunjammer, originally in Boys’ Life but quickly reprinted last year by New Worlds, and then by Amazing early this year.

So it’s a rather insular party.  But my main complaint last year was that too much of the material was too pedestrian, and the book excluded writers who are pushing the envelope of the genre, like Lafferty, Zelazny, Ellison, and Cordwainer Smith.  The editors seem to have been listening.  This year they’ve got Ellison and Lafferty, though they seem to have missed their chance at Smith, and Zelazny is still among the missing.  More importantly, the book as a whole is livelier than its predecessor.

This is not to say the pedestrian has been entirely banished.  Witness Christopher Anvil’s The Captive Djinn, the only selection from that rotten borough Analog, yet another story about the clever Earthman outwitting cartoonishly stupid aliens.  Anvil has written this story so often he could do it in his sleep, and most likely that is exactly what happened. 

There is a lot more of the standard used furniture of the genre here, but at least it’s mostly done more cleverly and skillfully than dreamed of by Anvil.  In Joseph Green’s The Decision Makers (from Galaxy), Terrestrials covet the watery world Capella G Eight, but it’s already occupied by seal-like amphibians with group intelligence though not much material culture.  Is this the sort of intelligence that should ordinarily bar colonization outright? The “Conscience”—a bureaucrat in charge of making these decisions—thinks so, but proposes to split the baby, allowing colonization but providing that the humans will alter the climate to provide more dry land for the amphibians.  Of course, behind the bien-pensant speechifying, a still small voice says, “We’re just now starting to get rid of colonialism here, and you want to start it up again?” And another: “Ask the American Indians about the promises of colonists.”

Less weighty thoughts are on offer in James H. Schmitz’s Planet of Forgetting (from Galaxy), involving a fairly standard space war scenario with chase on unknown planet, with the wrinkle that some of the local fauna seem to be able to make people briefly forget where they are and what they are doing.  At the end of this smoothly rendered entertainment, suddenly the wrinkle becomes a mountain range. 

Similar cleverness-as-usual is displayed in Fred Saberhagen’s Masque of the Red Shift (from If), one of his popular Berserker series, in which a disguised Berserker robot appears and wreaks havoc on a spaceship occupied by the Emperor of the galaxy and his celebrating sycophants.  But it is promptly outsmarted and done in by the Emperor’s brother, who is resurrected from suspended animation and lures the Berserker into the clutches of a “hypermass,” which seems to be what scientists are starting to call a “black hole.” (Though on second thought, I’m not sure that “cleverness” is quite le mot juste for a story that falls back on the dreary cliche that a galaxy-spanning human civilization will find no better way to govern itself than an Emperor.) Jonathan Brand’s Vanishing Point (If) is an alien semi-contact story, in which the functionaries of the Galactic Federation have created an artificial habitat, a sort of Earth-like theme park complete with human curator, for the human emissaries to wait in and wonder what is really going on.

Engineering fiction is represented by Clarke’s slightly pedantic Sunjammer (as noted, Boys’ Life by way of New Worlds), concerning a yacht race in space, and by Larry Niven’s livelier Becalmed in Hell (F&SF), whose characters—one of them a brain and spinal column in a box, with vehicle controlled by his nervous system—get stuck on the surface of Venus (updated with current science) and have to improvise a primitive solution to get home.

There are a couple of near-future satires representing very different styles and targets of the sardonic.  Ron Goulart’s Calling Dr. Clockwork (Amazing) is a lampoon of the medical system; protagonist visits someone in the hospital, faints at something he sees there, wakes up in a hospital bed himself attended by the eponymous robot doctor, and can’t get out as his diagnosis shifts and things seem to be falling apart in the institution.  Fritz Leiber’s The Good New Days (Galaxy) is a more densely populated slice-of-slapstick extrapolating the welfare state, with a family living in futuristic but cheaply made housing (“They don’t build slums like they used to,” complains one character), with the TV on every minute, and Ma trying to avoid the demands of the medical statistician who wants her vitals, and everyone struggling to get and keep multiple make-work jobs (the protagonist just lost his job as a street-smiler), and things are all falling apart here, too, and a lot of the sentences are almost as long as this one.  The two stories are about equally amusing, which means above standard for Goulart and a little below standard for Leiber.

So that’s the ordinary, and a higher quality of ordinary than last year. 

A few items are unusual if not extraordinary.  R.A. Lafferty’s In Our Block (If) is an amusing tall tale about various odd characters with unusual talents residing in the shacks on a neglected dead-end block, like the woman who will type your letters but doesn’t need a typewriter (she makes the sound effects orally), and the man who ships tons of merchandise out of a seven-foot shack without benefit of warehouse.  It has lots of slapstick but not much edge, unlike the best by this idiosyncratic writer.  Newish writer Lin Carter (two prior appearances in the SF magazines, a lot in the higher reaches of amateur publications), in Uncollected Works (F&SF), extrapolates the old saw about monkeys on typewriters reproducing the works of Shakespeare, in the direction of Clarke’s The Nine Billion Names of God, leading to an unexpected and subtle conclusion.

In Vernor Vinge’s Apartness, from the UK’s New Worlds, the Northern War has destroyed the Northern Hemisphere, and generations later, an expedition from Argentina discovers people encamped in Antarctica, living in primitive conditions, who prove to be the descendants of white South Africans who fled from the uprising that followed the war and eliminated whites from the continent.  (Interesting that this American writer didn’t find a market for it at home.) They are not pleased to be discovered by darker-skinned explorers and try to drive them off.  The well-sketched background makes this more than an exercise in irony or just revenge.

On to the extraordinary—three of them, not a bad showing.  Traveler’s Rest, by David I. Masson, also from New Worlds, depicts a world where time varies with latitude, passing slowly at the North Pole (though subjectively very fast), where a furious—and possibly futile—high-tech war is in progress with an unknown and unseeable enemy.  Life proceeds more mundanely in the southern latitudes.  Protagonist H is relieved from duty, travels south, reorients himself to current society, establishes a career, marries and procreates over the years. He's known now as Hadolarisondamo, since names are longer in the slower latitudes.  Then, middle-aged, he is called back to duty, and arrives 22 minutes after he left.  This world’s nightmarish quality is highlighted by the dense mundane detail of the normal life of the lower latitudes; the result is a tour de force of strangeness.

Harlan Ellison’s “Repent, Harlequin!” said the Ticktockman (from Galaxy) is a sort of dystopian unreduced fraction.  In outline, it’s a simple story of a future world where punctuality is all; if you’re late, your life can be docked.  One man can’t take it any more and dresses up in a clown suit and goes around disrupting things until he gets caught by the Master Timekeeper (the Ticktockman), brainwashed, and forced to recant publicly—though the end hints that his legacy lives on.  In substance, it’s business as usual; in style, it’s a sort of garrulous stand-up routine, and quite a good one.  It’s best read as a purposeful affront to the usual plain functional (or worse) prose of the genre (a reading consistent with the story’s theme) and a persuasive argument for opening up the field a bit stylistically.

The other outstanding item here—best in the book to my taste—is Clifford D. Simak’s Over the River and Through the Woods (Amazing), in which a couple of strange kids appear at a farmhouse in 1896 and address the older woman working in the kitchen as their grandma.  The gist: Ordinary decent person confronted with the extraordinary responds with ordinary decency.  It’s plainly written without a wasted word, deftly developed, asserting its homely credo with quiet restraint—a small masterpiece amounting to a summary of Simak’s career.  Simak is one writer who should ignore Ellison’s advice—and vice versa, no doubt.

The upshot: Not bad.  Better than not bad.  The field is taking small steps away from business as usual, and the usual seems to be getting a little better.  The kid may amount to something some day.

[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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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[February 22, 1966] A New Age? Impulse and New Worlds, March 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

This is a particularly exciting time with the British magazines this month. After the announcement of the end of Science Fantasy in the February issue, we now have Impulse, “The NEW Science Fantasy”, as it says on the cover, and a bigger, bolder, thicker New Worlds – albeit with a shilling rise in the price of each.

Do I get extra value for my extra two shillings a month? I’m looking forward to finding out.

Well, the cover of the new Impulse is interesting. There’s nothing like selling yourself with a roster of names on the cover – and the list is impressive, admittedly. The cover artwork is reasonable too. Gone are the Keith Roberts covers (more about him in a moment) to be replaced with a rather unusual cover by “Judith Ann Lawrence”, though we may also know her as Mrs. James Blish.

As Kyril points out in his as entertaining as ever Editorial, there is even a theme to the issue, that of “Sacrifice”. Sounds intriguing.

To this month’s actual stories.

The Circulation of the Blood, by Brian W. Aldiss

We start this issue with the return of one of the current and most vocal exponents of the New Wave, Brian Aldiss.  Clem Burke is an oceanologist who has returned to his tropical idyll to meet his wife and son after spending six months investigating ocean currents. We discover over the course of the story that he and his team have discovered a new virus carried by microscopic copepod that seems to imbue immortality upon the creatures who ingest it.

This is typical Aldiss, in that the story that at first reads as if it is a travelogue of tropical islands. It could almost be published in any magazine. However this is Aldiss, and what the author then does is reveal a science-fictional element gradually, by which time of course the reader is hooked. What we end up with is a world on the edge of major irretrievable evolutionary change from which there is no going back.

Brian would hate me for saying this, as he’s not a fan of the author’s writing, but to me this one felt like it had a touch of the John Wyndham “global catastrophes" about it, although it leaves the reader wondering “What happens next?” at the end. It is about what would be the consequences of what will happen when this secret discovery is revealed to the world, and the effects afterwards, on society, on relationships and on the world’s ecology. A good start. 4 out of 5.

High Treason, by Poul Anderson

From a story that’s rather British in tone to a stridently American tale. Edward Breckenridge is a space pilot currently imprisoned and on trial for treason. The reason is that he was the commander of an attack force given the job in a last ditch effort of wiping out the enemy’s home planet, but who took an alternative decision, sacrificing his own family and career to do so.

I have always thought of Poul as a right-wing writer, and consequently this story is something I didn’t expect. To begin with it reads like a typical sf Space Opera tale from the States, with its roots in Doc Smith’s Lensmen, all about honour and loyalty, but then takes a left turn into the unexpected.

It shows us that when difficult choices have to be made, the answer is far from simple and leaves us with the moral dilemma – would you, faced with a relatively benign enemy, make the same decision?

Whilst the tone of the story is what I would expect in the American magazines, this one is a tale that I don’t think you’d find in Analog. Surprising. 4 out of 5.

You and Me and the Continuum, by J.G. Ballard

And then from a story that appears at first to be traditional to one that is most definitely not. If Aldiss is often seen as “the voice” of New Wave, then here is perhaps the group’s leading exponent, making a welcome return to the British mags.

Ballard has set himself quite a challenge here, as the banner suggests: “The theme of sacrifice led me to think of the Messiah, or more exactly, the second coming and how this might happen in the twentieth century.”

Written in that typically fractured, disjointed manner, the disparate pieces together make up a story which doesn’t quite reach its lofty ideals yet must be admired for its ambition. Deliberately provocative, ambitiously subversive, the story is filled with phrases that remain in the memory after the story has been read. One where the parts may be greater than the sum of the whole. 4 out of 5.

A Hero’s Life, by James Blish

The banner on this one tells me that for the first time this is the first original piece published in Britain from this American author (admittedly living in Britain). I’m sure that you will know him for his Cities in Flight series of stories if nothing else,  although I know him more for his literary criticism as much as his fiction writing.

It is a strange story about a poisoner on a Romanesque planet where being a traitor is a valuable trade. As a traitor Simon de Kuyl is given untouchable status, but he is about to have his twelve days of grace expire. The story is about how he manages to use his wits to survive, finding himself playing a complex game with the planet’s leaders. Lyrical, a bit grim, one that seems to combine Samuel Delany’s style of grimy underworld writing and when de Kuyl is tortured produces stream of consciousness gibberish with more than a touch of the lyrical Jack Vance. It’s ambitious, but feels a little like it’s trying too hard. 3 out of 5.

The Gods Themselves Throw Incense, by Harry Harrison

Friend and colleague of Mr. Aldiss, here’s another name that seems to be forever in the British magazines at the moment. This time Harry is into Space Opera mode, but not the farce of Bill, the Galactic Hero (thank goodness!), but instead a darker, more visceral story.

The explosion of the spaceship Yuri Gagarin leads to a motley trio of survivors in an emergency capsule. With oxygen running out and rescue unlikely for at least a few weeks, the story is how they survive – which means that one of them needs to make the ultimate sacrifice in order for the others to live. A story which examines what could really happen when people are put under significant life-changing stress. Like Poul Anderson's story this month, this is not a story of honour or glory, nor is it particularly pleasant, but it is memorable. 3 out of 5.

Deserter, by Richard Wilson

Continuing the theme of sacrifice, Richard’s story tells of William Leslie, a soldier who with an impending war coming, marries Betty. The couple are immediately separated, because – wait for it! – it’s a war of the sexes! Bill deserts to meet Betty, and does so, but is then arrested and sent for a court-marshal. It all seems a little silly. Not the best story in the issue. 2 out of 5.

The Secret, by Jack Vance

Having mentioned the lyrical American Hugo-winning author already, here he is, with a coming-of-age story. Rona ta Inga lives in idyllic tropical paradise with food, shelter and all the company he could want. However, one day as the oldest of the group, he, like many of his friends and predecessors before him, feels the urge to sail away to the West, where he discovers "the secret" and his innocent child-like life is changed. It’s a one-trick tale, but well done. Precise wordage mingles with metaphor. 3 out of 5.

Pavane, by Keith Roberts

This is the first of what I believe will be many stories spread over the next few months, and something a little different from Mr. Roberts, who in this same issue we are told has taken on the responsibility of assistant editor.

Pavane is an alternate history where Elizabeth I was assassinated in 1588. As a result, Protestantism has not taken hold in England and Roman Catholicism still dominates the world. With the Roman Catholic view of science being one of suspicion, and innovation supressed, inventions have not as developed as they have been here today. Although it is still the 1960’s, here we have Keith’s descriptions of this strange new-yet-old world which runs a feudal system and where communication is not through telegraph or radio (electricity not invented) but by flags.

The story is focussed upon the duties of Rafe Bigland, a signaller whose job is to pass semaphore flag messages down the line to the next semaphore station in a distinctly more rural England. It shows us Rafe’s job at a semaphore station and through a bit of history how he got to this prestigious position. Think of it like a particularly British Lord Darcy story.

I’m not sure where it is going – presumably we will discover more in later stories set in the same world – but I enjoyed the worldbuilding and the sense of timelessness that pervades this slower pace of life. There is a deliberately shocking ending, which I guess does fit with the overall theme of the issue. 4 out of 5.

Summing up Impulse

Well, this one hits the ground running. What a superior issue! Impulse covers an impressive range of story. From Space Opera to alternative history to New Wave, each story this month combines this impressive variety of styles from a host of well-known authors to create an all-star issue. There’s little I didn’t like about this one. I particularly enjoyed the Aldiss, the Poul Anderson and the Keith Roberts, though if I had to pick a weak story it would probably be Richard Wilson’s Deserter, which was a little overwrought.

We seem to have started well. Can this month’s New Worlds compete?

Onto this month’s New Worlds

The Second Issue At Hand

After last month’s rally against the old guard, this month Mike Moorcock is attempting that perennial theme of trying to summarise what Science Fiction means to him and how fans can make it matter. It’s a nice summary for all those jumping on board at this point, but I’ve read similar before.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Evil That Men Do (Part 1), by John Brunner

I think we’ve had a bit of resurgence with John Brunner in the magazines of late. I was under the impression that even with the use of various pseudonyms, the magazines had lost him to the US magazines and writing novels, but in the last few months we’ve had stories (The Warp and the Woof Woof, last month) and non-fiction articles (Them As Can, Does in the January 1966 issue) in these pages, and now a novel split into two parts. This is different though in that it is less science fiction and more of a horror novel.

Godfrey Rayner’s party-piece is that he is a hypnotist, although he really uses the skill as a psychological tool. When persuaded to perform at a party, he does so reluctantly, to find the quiet young girl Fey Cantrip is upset by the process. Whilst not Rayner’s intended participant, Fey goes into a trance and talks of a nightmare involving a white dragon. When Rayner discusses what has happened with his psychiatrist friend Dr. Laszlo, they are surprised to find that Laszlo has a patient in Wickingham Prison who has recounted what sounds like the same dream (and the reason for one of the silliest covers I've seen on New Worlds lately.)

Lots of setting up here, which reads well but then just as the story gets going, it stops. What is the connection between the two dreamers and why are they having identical dreams? We’ll find out next month. This is OK, and reads easily, but as this is something with more of a Fritz Leiber / Weird Tales vibe about it, it’s not typical Brunner, and I would argue not his best. Kudos for trying something different, though. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

The Great Clock, by Langdon Jones

One of the points that’s surprised me lately in New Worlds is that Langdon Jones manages to pull a double shift. Not only is he the Assistant Editor, but he’s managing to create a line of intriguing fiction as well. They haven’t always worked for me, but I can’t deny that they are usually quite ambitious both in style and content. This one’s another allegorical one, about a naked man who finds himself giving his life’s service to the working of a giant clock. I get the idea that it is probably about the passage of time and the uselessness of spending an entire life giving service to a machine. Some nice descriptions of the workings of this enormous edifice, but in the end it seems rather pointless. It wouldn’t happen inside Big Ben, now, would it? Weirdly, it rather made me think of the film Metropolis. 3 out of 5.

From ONE, by Bill Butler

A poem, from a new name to the magazines. It’s about burning animals and dinosaurs. Marks for effort, but it doesn’t stir me to any kind of emotion. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Psychosmosis, by David I. Masson

And another story from who is probably my favourite ‘new’ author of the moment – this is his third story in three successive months. Again, this story is quite different, this time set in some kind of primitive cultured society.

To begin with, it is about a death in a tribal village, which leads to a naming-feast and much partying. However, in the aftermath Nant, one of the husbands is missing, followed by his newly-renamed wife Mara (once named Nira) in something referred to as a “double-vanishing.” We discover that they have passed over into The Inside, a realm where the village cannot see or hear them.

We then have two worlds – the first, the Faded lands of The Hard of Hearing, which is a harsh and difficult life with a language to match, whilst those who have passed over to The Inside, the Invokers, have a life of relative pleasure and luxury, which is again reflected in the language.

Returning to the land of the Hard of Hearing there is a boar hunt. Tan is regarded as a hero for surviving and killing many animals. However, like Nant and Mara before, when he goes to find his girlfriend Danna it seems that she has gone missing. He searches for her, eventually dies and passes over to the Inside where he meets all of his friends again, including Danna.

As is often the case on a first read of Masson's stories, I’m not quite sure what it all means. All the story really does is depict two opposing societies – is it an allegory for Heaven and Hell, for example? – but it is entertaining enough. as Masson manages to indulge in his love of language to depict the differences in society and lifestyle. The second tribe are, according to the author, ‘saved’, whilst the others are doomed, as shown by the last sentence.

Not sure that this one entirely works for me, but it is still impressive. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

The Post-Mortem People, by Peter Tate

Another new name to the magazines, or at least me. A strange tale of men and women who go around literally rubber-stamping dying people with their time of death in order to allow organ harvesting. The latest in another depressing dystopian setting, this one is typically sombre and actually rather unsettling. 3 out of 5.

The Disaster Story, by Charles Platt

Charles’s presence in the magazine in recent months has been a constant, with often well-received stories and entertainingly grumpy reviews in New Worlds. The Disaster Story is an attempt by the author to become deliberately more Ballardian, beginning with the statement “This is an attempt to isolate and express the ingredients which endow a distinct type of science fiction with unusual appeal.”

Well, they do say that imitation is the best form of flattery and if so then Ballard should be pleased. There’s nothing like ambition, but whilst The Disaster Story echoes Ballard in its visually dramatic and lyrical imagery and like some of Ballard’s tales is made up of short, discordant paragraphs, it is not as good as Ballard. Compare with Ballard’s story in this month’s Impulse and this is weaker, though a brave attempt. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

For A Breath I Tarry, by Roger Zelazny

I mentioned how much I enjoyed Roger’s writing when I reviewed Love is an Imaginary Number in the January 1966 issue of New Worlds. It seems that Mike Moorcock is similarly impressed, as here’s another story. I think that this one is just as good, if not better. It is a post-apocalyptic tale about Frost, who is a sentient computer created by Solcom, with dominion over half of the Earth. Over ten thousand years, Frost has taken on a hobby – that of studying Man, even though Man has long gone. At the South Pole there is the Beta-Machine, created by Solcom to work in a similar way over the Southern Hemisphere. Solcom now watches over both of them from space.

Opposing Solcom is Divcom and The Alternate, a computer system originally meant as a back-up to Frost and The Beta that through a chance accident to Solcom has also been activated. The two systems have spent the last few thousand years trying to remove the other – Frost claiming that the Alternative should not have been made operative in the first place, Divcom claiming that Solcom has been damaged and needs replacing. Over time this has created a somewhat uneasy but stable peace.

When Mordel, a robot created neither by Solcom or Divcom, strikes up a conversation with Frost, they find that they have a common interest – to study humans. This leads to Frost and Mordel examining a human relic – a book on Human Physiology – and then sharing of ideas on what is the nature of Man. This leads to Frost becoming determined to attain Manhood, and much of the rest of the story is about how far it goes towards that.

This story of god-like machines wanting to comprehend and even become like Man is thoughtful and well written and shows that Roger is writing material that is setting the standard across the Atlantic. I wouldn’t be surprised to see this one nominated for Awards in the next few months. Robots with personalities and a conscience – I wonder what Asimov would make of it? 4 out of 5.


Illustration by Douthwaite

Phase Three, by Michael Moorcock

Nice to see the editor as author again. This is the third Jerry Cornelius story (having first been seen in issues 153 and 157). Moorcock mixes cultural references with pagan mythology and strange happenings in time through the actions of his action-hero and his side-kick, Miss Brunner. (Where has Cornelius's wife gone to, I wonder?) This time Jerry goes to Scandinavia to try and find his brother Frank who appears to be “in a bad way” following the events of the previous story.  Frank leaves a strange map:

which Jerry and Miss Brunner use to track Frank down, to a place with secret Nazi constructions in some variant of the Hollow Earth theory. In terms of the bigger picture, it all seems to be connected to the super-computer mentioned in the last story.

Wildly imaginative, if supremely improbable, the rattling pace almost covers up the fact that this is an extract of a novel soon-to-be-published. As an extract, it doesn’t make much sense. But then that may be the point. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

We start with a big-hit reviewer this month. J.G. Ballard takes up the mantle and reviews The Childermass, Monstre Gai and Malign Fiesta by Wyndham Lewis. Must admit, I always confuse Wyndham Lewis with the already-mentioned-this-month John Wyndham, he of The Day of the Triffids fame, but Ballard makes a good case for reading Wyndham Lewis.

James Colvin, the Editor-by-Another-Name, tackles the paperbacks. He reviews J G Ballard’s story collection The Fourth Dimensional Nightmare in some detail before going onto a very brief mention of Isaac Asimov’s latest British releases.

Keeping that literary viewpoint he then reviews Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse and Jorge Luis Borge’s Fictions which, as expected, is regarded as “sublime”, and then Ray Cummings’s Tama of the Light Country for a bit of contrast. (As an old pulp story it does not fare well.)

Lastly Colvin mentions, but actually does little more than list, a number of Philip K Dick recent publications, stating at the end that they are “much, much better than most sf published recently.”

Like Moorcock, not content with just having a story in this issue, Assistant Editor Langdon Jones, under the heading Rose Among Weeds reviews The Rose by Charles L. Harness. It sells the book well, although as it is published by the same publisher as this magazine, I did cynically wonder whether it masquerades as subtle promotion. Given the reviewer’s usual sense of scorn (so-British!) I hope not.

There are no Letters pages this month.

Summing up New Worlds

In an appropriate moment of serendipity, the back cover subtly points out that this is the 160th issue and the first to have 160 pages. I have been quite positive about the changes in New Worlds in recent months, but the extra space seems to have reenergised the magazine even further. The weaker spots for me are the Brunner and the Platt, but even they are not bad, just eclipsed by the Zelazny and the Masson, both of which are excellent. The range is broad, and perhaps not for everyone, but if I was to point out an issue that epitomises the changes that sf has experienced in the last couple of years this would probably be it. From intangible horror to post-apocalyptic dystopia and decay, from culture bending satire and even a search for meaning, from Ballard-esque imagery to poetry, it is, dare I say it, a diversely classic issue. Moorcock’s editorial summing this up forms the impressive structure upon which current sf can be exhibited.

Summing up overall

Difficult choice this month. Both magazines seem to have benefitted from the extra space more page-age provides. I think that both editors have pulled out all the stops and produced better than average issues – I hope that it lasts. Impulse has hit the ground running, and I liked the the fact that both issues have managed to combine quality writing from both British and American writers to create a varied issue. Overall, I liked more of Impulse than I did New Worlds, but the Zelazny story in New Worlds is perhaps the best I’ve read this month.

So: Impulse has the edge, although – and I say this very rarely – in my opinion both issues are worth reading this month – despite me being two extra shillings down on the deal.

This is a wonderful sign for the future of sf here in Britain. What is also great is that comparing what we get here with what you get in the USA, the difference to me is quite apparent. Absolutely nothing wrong with that – in my mind, a broad genre is a sign of strength, not weakness. We really do seem to be entering some sort of new Golden Age.

To reflect this – next month, more Ballard in New Worlds!

Until the next…



 

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 26, 1966] Changes Afoot! Science Fantasy and New Worlds, February 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After the usual chaos and madness of a year’s end, it is usual for me to say at this point that I/we are now settling into the routines of 1966 nicely. Or are we? There’s change afoot!

Last month I made a half-joking remark that Science Fantasy was filled with old-fashioned and dated material that suggested that it was a placeholder issue. This month’s Science Fantasy seems to show that the Editor has taken this to heart. From next month Science Fantasy is no more – it will now be called Impulse, and this is shown on the cover in the same way that Astounding became Analog.

What difference such a title change will make, I don’t know. But it is clearly something Editor Kyril Bongfiglioli has wanted for a while. In his Editorial he explains the change, but what it mainly seems to be is that Kyril can now go to his newsagent and pick up a copy without fear of embarrassment, and he hopes others will be able to do the same. He also points out that there will also be a rise in price but that the magazine will be about thirty pages longer – “the equivalent of a full length novel.” Every cloud has a silver lining, I guess. But it is noted that both magazines are increasing their price next month.

To this month’s actual stories.

Ballad From A Bottle, by Hugh Simmonds

We’ve not come across Hugh’s writing before. As the title (and cover) suggests, this is a story of what happens when a bottle is found washed ashore on a beach. Simon takes it home and begins to have rather vivid dreams, which leads to him hearing voices and a song coming from the empty bottle. It’s a new version of the genie in the bottle story, isn’t it? Well, in this version the mysterious sounds lead to Simon travelling from Buenos Aires to Durban, South Africa (It’s not quite clear how he can afford it) and has some kind of religious experience (I think) in meeting an Arcturan who has been living in secret for millennia.

This one reads fine, but I can’t help feeling that it is spiritual allegory dressed up as a fictional story. I don’t know enough about such matters to know which religious view it is, but it feels like the purpose is the message, not the plot. 3 out of 5.

The Warp and the Woof-Woof, by John Brunner

Last month John appeared with a non-fiction article in New Worlds, this month a piece of fiction. It’s a nice story of an astronaut training to be the first man to Mars but as seen through the perspective of Jeff, his dog – the “woof woof” of the title. It involves Martians preparing for an invasion of Earth and a case of mistaken identity which doesn’t end well for the Martians. Brunner doesn’t write really bad stories, though this light-of-tone story feels like a minor tale. 3 out of 5.

Marina, by M. John Harrison

A new voice to me. This is a lyrical narrative telling of Marina, who dreams of a life at sea. Although she is separated from her beloved ocean, she knows that in the attic of the house where she lives there are mementos of a life spent there. Her rummaging leads to an unfortunate if predictable end. Despite the story being obvious, this is an interesting debut from an author clearly trying very hard to write imaginatively. 3 out of 5.

Our Man in 1900, by Paul Jents

Last time we had a story from Paul was in the June 1965 issue of Science Fantasy with Peace on Earth, and this month he has a story in both magazines! This story is one of time-travel and espionage, which although I haven’t seen it over here in Britain, makes me think of your Wild, Wild West television series, or something from our Doctor Who. Justini goes to see an act by fellow magician Marvo, only to find that it is not an act, but instead part of a time-travelling holiday company’s itinerary from the Thirtieth Century. The story starts well, and there’s a nicely done if rather obvious twist in the tale at the end. 3 out of 5.

Sing Me No Sorrows, by E. C. Tubb

Is there no end to the stockpile of material from the prodigious Mr. Tubb? This one is one of those “Where am I now?” type stories where the person in the story initially finds themselves somewhere new and unknown until eventually they discover where they are and what they are doing there. Minor-league stuff. 3 out of 5.

Plague in Space (part 3 of 3) , by Harry Harrison

At the end of last month’s serial, Doctors Sam Bertolli and Nita Mendel found themselves at an United Nations World Health meeting where a decision was made to quarantine and then cleanse New York City of a space plague by dosing it with radioactive material.

To finish the story, a decision is made to search the Pericles for any research completed by the hapless astronauts. Nita becomes ill and Sam is detained for protesting about Operation Cleansweep, so the story has an additional element of peril. Like last month, Sam escapes from his detention and enters the zone due for detonation to get to the Pericles.

There with Stanley Yasumura, Gen. Burke, Lieut. Haber and Sgt. Bennet, Sam battles through various challenges to get inside the spaceship. There they meet a Jovian, whose initial contact with the Pericles we are told of through flashback, and who has a cure. Nita is miraculously cured by the serum and in a horrendously clumsy ending everything is sorted and solved, with preparations made for the humans to return to Jupiter and take on the Jovians.

As the last part of the last serial for Science Fantasy, it’s pretty predictable. Issues are resolved satisfactorily, and there’s a reasonable ending. But the fact that I can’t think of much to say about the last part of a serial that takes up half of the issue may ultimately sum up the story’s impact. Overall it feels like a bit of a pot-boiler that is more likely to be liked by non-sf readers than those who have read this sort of thing so many times before. It is better than the pulps of the 1940s and 50s, but there’s little else to recommend it by me, sadly. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

The last issue of Science Fantasy continues in the manner of the last couple of issues. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it, but it seems to have lost its energy. Knowing what we now do, I am hoping that this is just a case of holding the good material over until the next issue, which will hopefully show us how good the magazine can be again. It’s not bad, but it’s not great either.

Farewell Science Fantasy. It has been fun, but your time is past. All hail Impulse (fingers crossed).


Advert for the new magazine. A bold statement!

Onto this month’s New Worlds.

The Second Issue At Hand

A few months ago, I became aware of a group who were not in favour of Moorcock’s changes to New Worlds. They were mainly making their opinions known through groups such as the British Science Fiction Association, who were quite vocal about the reduction in the magazines of “good old-fashioned sf”, replacing it with loftier, more literary material and losing a key core group of readers in the process.

Well, clearly Mike Moorcock has been listening. The editorial this month is his response, a tirade that suffers no fools gladly and is perhaps the boldest statement yet of his intent as Editor. Can this be just coincidental as it happens at the same time as Science Fantasy changing its name? (I doubt it.)

There are some impassioned generalisations here. Moorcock makes some good points and gives some good examples to back his view up about what he is trying to do and why, but mistakenly begins by turning one generalisation (there have been some complaints…) into another (he claims that the views of this vocal minority equate with “All Change is Bad”).

Personally, I hope that my monthly comments here show that I like the old stuff as nostalgic entertainment but I also appreciate what Moorcock is trying to do, even if I don’t always “get it”. Last month I said that New Worlds was “pushing the genre whilst at the same time maintaining some connections to the past,” which I like.

In short, Moorcock’s Editorial is an interesting read that is one from a clearly heart-felt conviction on his part and summarises how far the genre has come in a few years. Might even be worth buying the magazine for that statement of intent alone.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

A Two-Timer, by David I Masson

No serial this month but another different sort of story from Masson, who has been a major supernova as a writer in his brief time here. Moorcock talks about this in his Editorial in glowing terms, and I can only agree. It is written in the form of “ye-olde-English-language” with archaic vocabulary and Lots of Capital Letters in the Middle of Sentences, and as such can be a little difficult to get on with at first – it reminds me of the recent reaction to Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Masson’s first story (Traveller’s Rest, in the September issue of New Worlds) showed us that Masson clearly enjoys playing with language. I understand that David is not only an author but also the Curator of Special Collections at Liverpool University with an interest in language, and this is reflected in his stories here.

However, once the reader becomes accustomed to the prose, it is a great story about time travel that uses the dislocation of language to describe present day lifestyle. Separated by three hundred years, the story is written as if someone from history was recording the events of the present. Our unnamed hero from 1683 finds himself by accident in a time machine that travels to 1964. It’s an entertaining satire as we decipher what our traveller is seeing such as cars, buses, aeroplanes, electricity, television and so on. It is also a deliberate reversal of the historical novel, where events of the past are told with modern prose. It is a great idea, and much of the amusement comes from trying to deduce what our protagonist is describing, but it is really the same idea repeated through one story. I did like the point that as the story progresses and our narrator becomes more fluent with the modern world, the language becomes more modern, which rather reminded me of the linguistics in Daniel Keyes’ recent story Flowers for Algernon. The title’s clever as well – a person who is in two places at once at different times and – there’s another reason as well, but I won’t spoil it for you.

Though it is similar to Paul Jents’ story in this month’s Science Fantasy, this is a comedy of manners that is a magnitude greater in its ambition and its plotting. It’s a little too long – you can only carry this one idea so far – and has a weak ending, yet I found it enjoyable enough. 4 out of 5.

The Orbs, by John Watney

Another new author to me. This is story told through a diary entry by Julia, a sixteen-year-old in the Time of the Orbs. What we discover through the excited Julia is that there is a rite-of-passage that she is about to experience known as the Great Adventure. Guess what? The Orbs are some sort of Alien harvesting machine who suck up humans and butcher them in what is called The Great Descent. Over time humans have adapted this to allowing self-sacrificers, known as Orb-Volunteers to be harvested, which ultimately becomes narrowed down to teenagers, who are prepared for this sacrifice with great pomp and ceremony. It’s an invasion story where the matter-of-fact tone belies horrors on a global scale. Whilst the theme of the story isn’t new, it is chillingly told. 3 out of 5.

Entry from Earth, by Daphne Castell

Another from an author who is almost becoming a regular in the magazines, after her appearance with For One of These in Science Fantasy last month. This time Daphne tells us of the Nine Systems Festival of Sound on the planet Pigauron. This involves lots of dignitaries from strange planets, but this year the excitement is over a competition entry from a relatively unknown planet called Earth. The irony is that the song is a slavery song, sung by slaves. I liked the somewhat florid and baroque nature of the decadent aliens, though the twist in the end is a little weak. 3 out of 5.

Hi, Sancho!, by Paul Jents

And so to Paul’s second published story this month. This is the story of Tip Peters, an escapee who we first meet escaping over an electrified fence for an initially undisclosed reason. Over the course of the story Tip goes to his girlfriend for refuge, but is persuaded to seek further help in escaping. This leads to him informing the authorities of a potential terrorist attack. The twist in the story at the end shows us that Tip is clinically insane and actually returns to an asylum. A story that hints at a dark world outside Tip’s safe haven, with extermination camps in “Africa” possibly being the cause of Tip’s illness, but as with most similar stories unfortunately feels rather ham-fisted. I much preferred the other story this month. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by A Thomson

Temporary Resident, by Philip E. High

Philip’s a regular to the magazines, and one of the old school of writers, but one who is trying to write in a New Wave style. However, with that in mind, this is a fairly inconsequential piece this month. A near-miss with a car on the planet Speriol leads the protagonist (who works in Intelligence) to wonder if the accident was deliberate. This leads to a paranoic spiral, for as he continues his day he increasingly feels that he is carrying on the same as normal but everyone around him is not. The ‘accident’ seems to have led to a “Transition”, moving our hero to a different plane of existence where physical laws are altered. Another one of those “altered perception” type stories which basically takes that idea of inner space and runs with it under the guise of sf, which ends on an unconvincing twist. 3 out of 5.

The Sword Against the Stars, by A. F. Hall

Do you remember me writing of that story a couple of issues back that seemed to throw everything in, from unicorns to spaceships? My first thought on reading this title was that this was going to be another story covering similar ideas, but really it is not. On a planet that is possibly Earth, we are told of what has happened in our future. Man has attempted to go beyond the planet and has sent spaceships travelling into space but they have never returned.

Instead aliens arrived and destroyed the world, leaving the people there unable to leave the planet. There’s lots of descriptions of the harsh lifestyle the people live. There are dust storms and we have people fighting over caches of food. The story tries to end on a positive note, hopeful that a sword the writer owns will become a sign that Mankind will one day return to the stars, but most of the story is about the challenges of eking out a living in a post-apocalyptic environment. Grim and depressing, despite the ending. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

Assistant Editor Langdon reviews Of Worlds Beyond, a non-fiction book on the craft of sf writing. Jones claims that it’s worth spending your money on if you can’t find anything else – talk about faint praise! – but I must admit that I Iiked some of the quotes given from editors and authors, perhaps enough to buy the book. There’s also reviews of a number of novels in a series by Samuel Delany and The Wizard of Lemuria by Lin Carter from someone we know more for his drawings here – James Cawthorn. R. M. Bennett gives a detailed review of The Best of New Worlds, now in paperback. It’s fairly thorough, though I must admit that I’m always a bit uneasy when a magazine reviews itself. It does gain extra credit from me though for saying that Langdon Jones' story I Remember Anita was "overrated."

In the letters pages there is lots of discussion of Pohl and Kornbluth’s recent novel The Space Merchants reviewed back in the November 1965 issue. First there is a letter suggesting that James Colvin’s review of the book was unfair, which is then followed by a letter agreeing with the review and claiming that the novel is “probably the most over-estimated sf novel ever.” Colvin gives an appropriate reply in response.

There’s also a letter from a new reader complaining about too much sex and religion in the latest magazines, ending with the pithy sentence “As far as I am concerned, true sf writing ceased in 1939.” Clearly not a fan of the new direction the magazine is going in, then! I wonder what this reader will make of Moorcock’s impassioned Editorial this month? The letter is given without editorial comment.

The last letter praises the magazine for trying to maintain a difficult balance between the old and the new, which shows that at least some are getting what Mike is trying to achieve.

Summing up New Worlds

We seem to be on a run of good New Worlds issues at the moment. Moorcock rants aside, it is true that he has a lot to be proud about in this one and although this issue is not the best we’ve seen lately it holds up as readable. Masson’s writing continues to impress, with another very different story from him.

Summing up overall

Whilst I am sad at the passing of Science Fantasy, the difference between the actively energetic if not to say fighting tone of New Worlds and the tired yet staid Science Fantasy is once again quite noticeable. Perhaps it is time for a change. I look forward to seeing if Impulse makes a difference next month. It should not be a surprise though that the ‘winner’ this month for me is New Worlds – even if it is not the best issue we've seen lately.

Until the next…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 28, 1965] God-Birds and Dreams Science Fantasy and New Worlds, January 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

It’s that strange time of the year. I’m currently typing this a few days just after Christmas 1965 (hope it was a good one for you!), although the magazines are all dated January 1966, of course, and I suspect many of you will be reading this and the magazines in 1966!! So, whilst I’m still celebrating Christmas, and thinking back over the year gone by, we are also looking forward to new things in 1966.

It’s almost as if it was science fiction, isn’t it?

Anyway, the postman has managed to deliver me two magazines in the Christmas mail. Perhaps unsurprisingly by now, the issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy, so I’ll start there first.

Regular readers will know that I have been moaning about these covers for a while now. As you can see, this one is cheap-looking and not reversed the trend – what is that? A tree slice? A sliver of onion? I’m almost beginning to miss those Keith Roberts covers – but wait! This is a Roberts cover, clearly one from the bottom of his artist’s paintbox.

This month’s Editorial is a little unusual. It is in the form of an open letter, with responses from Kyril, to Mr. Chris Priest, a reader who has graced the letters pages of both magazines in recent years. It immediately covers one of the issues given thought here since it was put under new management – namely, that a letter column is, to quote, “an absolute necessity.”

Using references to recent letters, Chris makes three points. Firstly, Brian Stableford’s examination of what is sf (reviewed here back in the November 1965 issue) boiled down to “it is what it is, and when it is, we know.” Secondly, Ken Slater’s letter (in the same issue of Science Fantasy ) about the literary standard of sf suggests that Kyril’s policies on this being “uncertain”. Thirdly, Science Fantasy seems to combine both modern, cutting-edge stories and yet persists in publishing ” stories that went out of vogue many many years ago.” Coincidentally, this was something I accused the magazine of last month with its publication of Harry Harrison’s Plague from Space.

Whilst I’m not sure dissecting one letter in this way is always advisable, it is interesting. The editorial is short, but Kyril replies with thought and humour.

To the actual stories.

The God-Birds of Glentallach, by John Rackham

It feels like it has been a while since we’ve seen John in either Science Fantasy or New Worlds, although he was last seen in the August 1965 issue of with A Way With Animals. I believe that he has been a regular contributor to John Carnell’s New Writings in SF in the meantime.

Here he tells us the story of Andrew Malcolm, recently-made Laird of Glentallach, who allows an archaeological dig on what is now his land and with the discovery of a mysterious box discovers that an ancient myth may have more in it than he imagined.

It is a good solid tale, which reminded me of Fritz Lieber stories in a style not that different from old issues of Weird Tales. This seems to be exactly what Chris Priest was writing about in his letter about old-style storytelling. And yet, I quite liked it. 3 out of 5.

Sealed Capsule, by Edward Mackin

And this is also the return of a veteran regular, though not seen since April 1965’s New Worlds. Sealed Capsule (a rather appropriate title considering what happens in the previous story!) is the story of what could happen if you coop up men in a sealed spaceship together for six months on the way to Alpha Centauri. Clue: it doesn’t end well, especially when you add homemade poteen and prescription medicines to the plot. Another “OK” story, which reads well but doesn’t tell the reader anything new. 3 out of 5.

“In Vino Veritas”, by E. C. Tubb

Another old hand, clearly on a roll, as he was in both magazines last month – and here he is again. We will read another from E. C. in New Worlds later, as well.

Just to clarify for the non-Latin readers, “In Vino Veritas” means “In wine, truth”, which seems appropriate for many a writer, inspired by the drinking of the stuff! Claus Heston is a writer who, in an attempt to pay his bills and clear his writers block, sets forth to use alcohol and a magic potion to help him regain his mojo. It doesn’t quite work, but there is a revelation that forms the end of the story. 3 out of 5.

The Satyrian Games, by D. J. Gibbs

A writer new to me. Johnny Collins is a reporter sent to commentate on the mysterious Annual Games on Satyrus. With the offer of a bonus, Johnny and photographer Randy Hill are prepared to spend two weeks on Satyrus, despite the rumours of danger that have been reported on before. Meeting King Kopulus, the two Terrans are treated as VIPs, which is a little unusual for reporters, until the true reason is revealed – the next day they are to be put to combat against athletic Satyrian females as a test of manhood. We find out that it is a tough life being a Breeder, and in the end the King is beaten in a competition between himself and the appropriately named Randy to copulate with as many women as possible.

In case you didn’t guess, this one reads like a satire of a substandard story from the pulps of the 1930s. If the attempt at humour is the point, it is a weak point, and clumsily done. Overall, The Satyrian Games feels like it is here as a result of the Editor’s desperation. 2 out of 5.

For One of These, by Daphne Castell

Another story by Daphne after her debut in New Worlds in October. It is noticeable how both magazines have embraced the issue of there being a lack of women writers this year.

This is a story about a baby that Anna and her mother take in after the parents are killed in a road accident near their home. In the time it takes for help to arrive, Anna becomes bonded with the infant, even though it bites her and draws blood. The revelation is then that the baby, and the parents who were killed, are aliens in disguise. The Military Intelligence team who then arrive take Anna and her family into protective custody. Anna is told that the baby alien seems to derive its food from the mother’s blood – a space vampire, if you like. (The baby is even referred to at one point as “Poor little Dracula.”)

The story ends with Anna and two other ‘nurses’ taking on the responsibility of helping feed the child, until the authorities can work out what to do, waiting for others of the same race to arrive. Solidly told, but again, nothing exceptional. 3 out of 5.

The Plague from Space (part 2 of 3) , by Harry Harrison

The second part of this serial carries on pretty much as we left off, with Doctors Sam Bertolli and Nita Mendel trying to slow down the spread of the disease in New York brought back from Space by the spaceship Pericles. At the start of this second part, Sam is rushed to Stonebridge where it is rumoured that there might be a possible cure. The rumour is sadly mistaken, but Sam finds himself in a gun battle between his team and a group of armed militia who think that their helicopter is a means of escaping the plague.

Eventually returning back to the city, Sam is contacted by Nita, who tells him that the disease is mutating and that the samples they have previously taken do not survive in Jupiter-like conditions. The point is that the disease seems to be human-based and is mutating to infect other animals, such as dogs.

Sam and Nita find themselves side-lined for political reasons, so in protest they sneak themselves into an United Nations World Health meeting. There a decision is made to quarantine and then cleanse the worst part of the city by dosing it with radioactive material, leaving nothing alive.

Lots of running about and, as is typical for a middle part of a story, lots of exposition. Like last month, a tale told well but with little to elevate it to best-seller material. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Science Fantasy continues to play safe this month, continuing to rely on regular seasoned writers. Looking at the names returning, it is almost as if editor Kyril has fallen back on old ways and simply lifted work in the slush pile from writers from the old-school Carnell-era New Worlds. This may be intentional, but the overall impression I get is that of a magazine in a holding pattern, seemingly determined not to move forward. Surprisingly mundane.

Onto this month’s New Worlds.

The Second Issue At Hand

The editorial this month takes as its contentious starting point the idea, from James Colvin’s serial, that Science is the New Religion, before going further to say that in this wonderful world of the New Wave writing we are currently in, Science is the only prism through which Man can focus upon his future hopes and fears. It is a bold and deliberately argumentative point, but one which seems rather old-fashioned. I’m sure it was a point being made back in the early years of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells. Nevertheless, it is a discussion made with passion and enthusiasm.

To the stories!

The Wrecks of Time (Part 3 of 3)), by James Colvin

Last month’s part of this serial was clearly a middle part, all rushing about with no resolution. In this third and final part, Professor Faustaff and his faithful friends have appeared on the newly-created Earth Zero, with his enemies Steifflomeis and Cardinal Orelli.

Here the story becomes even more fractured and diluted. On arriving at Earth-Zero, Steifflomeis attempts to rally Faustaff to his cause but is turned down. There is a standoff between Faustaff’s team and Orelli’s men before Faustaff, with Nancy Hunt and Gordon Ogg, escapes in a car. They reach what appears at first to be a garbage dump but is actually made up of new-looking but random objects from different times – an arquebus, a Chinese kite, a Fokker triplane, for example. Presumably these are the "Wrecks of Time" of the title?

Faustaff realises that Maggy White may be the answer to his problems. Like Steifflomeis she appears to be working for the Principals, a set of immortals who created the multiple Earths and now seem to be involved in some sort of multidimensional game across Space and Time.

This also explains the increasingly bizarre nature of the story. Faustaff returns to Orelli’s cathedral to find Orelli crucified, symbolising the death of Religion that Moorcock talked of in his Editorial. Steifflomeis explains that this is part of an Activation Ritual that all of the newly-formed planets must go through. These appear to Faustaff in a dream-like state.

Faustaff sees a ritual sacrifice, a symbolism of the primitive people’s fears and wishes. He chases after Steifflomeis to find Maggy Smith in some kind of medieval-esque Queen of Darkness ritual. Nancy and Ogg are elsewhere in another ritual, in Hollywood, which causes Faustaff to laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation, to which I could only agree. Steifflomeis reappears and challenges Ogg to a duel.

The story at this point seems to make little sense, although there is an attempt to point out that the rituals seem to be repeated dream-like events needed as simulations for the principals to activate the planet. Maggy kills Steifflomeis, as he is blamed for the failure of this activation. Leaving the team at a hospital to tend Orelli, Maggy then takes Faustaff to meet the principals. We finish with a huge exposition as the principals explain the reasons for the simulations, although at this point I was beginning to lose interest. It seems that all of this is some cosmic joke. However, there is a happy ending.

After a great start and a lot of potential, this series appears to end with a confusing jumble of increasingly erratic sequences and an all-too convenient solution. A lot of noise but despite the author clearly thinking that it has, not a lot of sense. 3 out of 5.

The Case, by Peter Redgrove

Oh, God – poetry. Perhaps one of the most underwritten and over-appreciated forms of the English language, the first page made my heart sink. But I need to put my personal prejudices aside, and I do think that it is good to see the magazine push the boundaries a little and include something a bit different this month. Even if it is not to my own tastes. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by David Kearn

The Failures, by Charles Platt

Another regular author this month. It is very brave to title a story The Failures, isn’t it? It is almost as if it is taunting me to say something like how much of a failure this story is. Well, it’s not quite as bad as all of that. But it didn’t entirely work for me.

It seems to cover similar ground to Platt’s recent story The Lone Zone, , in that it deals with disaffected young adults. Last time it was some kind of future apocalypse, this time it is about the near future, although it is full of things from the present as well. Greg meets Cathy Grant at a Press party for his band, the Ephemerals. At first glance it all seems good – fast car, music being played on the radio, nice clothes. However, as the story crawls through a simulacrum of 1960s culture with its litany of dodgy characters, drugs, bad sex and a never-ending search for thrills, the point seems to be that such a seemingly luxurious life can end up being monotonous and unfulfilling, Really, life is awful and there’s nothing you or I can do about it. All rather depressing, which I suspect is the point. 3 out of 5.

Love Is an Imaginary Number, by Roger Zelazny

This is perhaps the story I was looking forward to reading most this month. American Roger has been blazing a trail over with you in the States and seems to be seen as an American writer firmly coming to grips with what we are calling ‘the New Wave’. His writing, what I have read of it so far, is usually imaginative, intelligent and deals with those themes of the softer sciences and inner space so beloved of the new breed of writers.

Like Charles Platt’s story, this is another one that begins in a seemingly positive manner. It is a fast-paced story of an unnamed character, told in the first person, who escapes from a prison and his jailor Stella. A renegade who runs across different landscapes, chased by villains who want to do him harm. In the end, he is bolted down and tortured.

In precis this story sounds like a lot of others. What such a summary doesn’t show is the way the prose is written – a dazzlingly precise yet grandly lyrical piece of writing that pulls you in and doesn’t let you leave until the end. This, when compared with the Colvin story, showed me what a dazzlingly prosed chase story could be like when combined with a plot that feels like a Greek myth combined with a Fantasy plot. As good as I hoped it would be. 4 out of 5.

Mouth of Hell, by David I Masson

And this is the other story I was looking forward to reading this month. David made quite an impression on me with his startlingly clever story Traveller’s Rest in the New Worlds issue of September 1965. This is quite different, yet just as brilliant. It is a story of an expedition to a place initially unknown but seems like somewhere we know. It reminded me a little of Lovecraft’s In the Mountains of Madness, but as the story progresses it becomes more science fictional. The expedition continues to traverse a continuous down-slope, first with vehicles and then on foot. The three expeditioners who continue – with the great names Mehhtumm, ’Ossnaal and Ghuddup – experience many challenges with increased heat and pressure. ‘Ossnaal has a fit and upon a rescue attempt one of the group is killed and another goes missing.

The next day, another trio, led by the team leader Kettass but with oxygen, manages to get further, but the death of another of the team leads to the search being abandoned.

There is then a couple of postscripts. Five years later Kettass returns with two VTOL craft and descend into the abyss, filming for a documentary. Their first attempt is deeper, yet defeated. On the second attempt one of the vehicles is crushed by the pressure 25 kilometres down and the second expedition is halted.

Thirty years after that. Kettass, now a septuagenarian, is taken down via pressured cable railway. The story ends by explaining that despite further deaths the area will eventually become a tourist resort with a game reserve and a sanatorium. Technology and Man’s endeavours have eventually tamed the challenges of the mysterious hole.

I love the fact that this is so different to Traveller’s Rest and yet so good. It may not be quite as unique as Traveller’s Rest was, but it is literate and memorable, with an unusual setting. This is a Boys Own adventure story rewritten for intelligent adults. 4 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Anne, by E. C. Tubb

What’s this? Another story by the prolific E. C. Tubb? This is a brief yet memorable story, written in a different style to his usual about a dying Warrior in his also dying spaceship who in his pain dreams of a different place, with Anne. It made me think that it was a science fictional version of the Brian Aldiss story The Day of the Doomed King, back in the November 1965 issue of Science Fantasy. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

Them As Can, Does, by John Brunner

Oh, look – an article from Mr. Brunner, after his allegedly impressive sparring with John W. Campbell at the recent Worldcon.

Fellow traveller Gideon has suggested before that there are two or three types of Brunner writing that we see. So, which Brunner do we have here? It is perhaps a little unfair to use such comments on a non-fiction article about how to get published. But the article is faintly amusing, makes its point well with some dignity and some sardonic wit that feels like it is based on experience. It can be summed us as “It’s not easy.” 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

And so after the serial, we now get the Book Review. James Colvin reviews Bill, the Galactic Hero with the sort of praise expected from the editor of the magazine himself. Colvin also weirdly reviews himself when he reviews Mike Moorcock’s The Fireclown. This can be a little confusing, especially when Colvin takes Moorcock to task for some of his writing, as he does here.

I can’t help feeling that Moorcock is laughing at us as he does this, although I guess that those of us in the know about such things may find it rather irreverent and amusing.

In the letters pages there is a point made about the price going up being a good thing but that there should also be more short stories and less serials, which can be bought as novels at anytime. The second letter suggests that as Analog is “the engineer’s magazine”, then New Worlds is “the undertakers’ magazine”, such is the magazine’s preoccupation with gloom and death. Must admit that I don’t entirely disagree with that one – it is something I’ve noticed myself recently.

Summing up New Worlds

Having said that the last issue of New Worlds was unmemorable, this one is a considerable improvement. The Zelazny story is great, as is the very different Masson story, which is perhaps my favourite story of the month.

I should give credit for the poetry, even when I didn’t like it. There are still a few of the regular contributors as well, but I am pleased that this is a step in the right direction, pushing the genre whilst at the same time maintaining some connections to the past.

 

Summing up overall

And with that, it should not be a surprise that the ‘winner’ this month for me is New Worlds.

With Christmas just gone, it means that I must wish you all the best for what is left of the Festive season and indeed for the New Year. 1965 has been shown to be an interesting one for the Brit magazines and despite my grumbles I can’t see 1966 being any different. (If you haven't seen it yet, Judith Merril makes some astute comments about it in this month's Magazine of Fantasy & SF that are worth a read.) Here’s hoping!

Until the next…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

It’s (Nearly) All About Aldiss [August 22, 1965] Science Fantasy and New Worlds, September 1965

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

As I type this, we’re a few days away from the 23rd Worldcon in London. Worldcons outside of the US don’t happen very often – the last one here was in 1957 – but it somehow seems right at the moment. Despite my feeling of lethargy last month, there’s a lot of optimism about in England, more than I’ve felt for a while. The reasons for it are perhaps many and varied – a young Labour government, the Beatles dominating the world and who seem to be a voice for the young generation, even the New Wave of science fiction that seems to be gaining headway and shaking things up.

To me, a Worldcon in Britain seems to encapsulate this. It promises to be new and exciting, at the cutting edge of the genre, with original writing and new writers out there to make things interesting. If you are attending, I hope it is everything it deserves to be.

With the Worldcon in mind, the magazines have steadily been building up pressure over the year. In this month of Worldcon ‘65, their issues seem to reflect the pent-up feeling of excitement, as both issues have some connection with the convention.

I’ll explain as we go along. As per usual, the issue that arrived first in the post this month was Science Fantasy.

Well, after the comparative lightness of last month’s cover, we seem to have taken on a much darker hue this month. That cover by an unknown artist is a bit too murky for me, almost to the point where I might say that I miss the usual Keith Roberts covers.

However, there may be subtle persuasion at work here, in that because the picture is so dark, the attention of the casual reader may be focused on the magazine’s heading. If, as they say, ‘sex sells’, then this might do it.

The Editorial this month is not usual. Instead of the usual debate created by Kyril, we have instead an article by Brian Aldiss (wonder why?) that seems to do little else but point out that his first-published novel Non-Stop has been republished in England. Whilst the cynical amongst-us might see this as an extended advertisement, it is written with Brian’s own endearing and self-deprecating tone. He explains the background to the original publication, how the American publishers gave away the twist in the story by changing the title, and finally tells us what he would do to revise the novel if he was writing it now. It is quite charming – rather like the man himself. I’ll mention the novel again later.

To the actual stories.

Boomerang, by E. C. Tubb

The return of the prodigious E C Tubb after his popular last serial story, The Life Buyer in the April – June 1965 issues of New Worlds. Boomerang is a story of murder and revenge. Told in the first person, Marlow is a man who from the start freely admits that he went on a murderous rampage against Granger, who he hates. As a result, Marlow burned down Granger’s house, “poisoned his friends, mutilated his pets and did things to his family” – nice chap!

Marlow’s punishment is to be exiled on his own to Hades, which as you might expect from its name is a barely tolerable planet to live out the rest of his days. The story here goes all Robinson Crusoe, and I rather expected it to become an Analog style story of a man overcoming adversity. But wait! The ‘boomerang’ of the title is that – wait for it! – his victim comes to the planet to finish him off! It’s nicely done overall, and reminded me a little of Alfred Bester’s Tiger! Tiger! in the sense of total hate that seems to exude off the page. With this in mind, the ending is satisfying. 3 out of 5.

Coming-Of-Age Day, by A K Jorgenssen

Warning! Warning! Kyril begins this with an explanation that he’s used before. It goes something like – “I read this one and thought. 'I can’t possibly publish this one!' And then I thought some more and decided 'Why not?'”

I must admit that given the lurid blurb on the front cover of a “startling story of sex in the future”, I was rather grimly expecting an over-heated story of a future where the coming-of-age is celebrated by some sort of sexual rite-of-passage, with some pretty obvious clichés and awful sex scenes.

To my surprise, it’s rather a restrained work. The main premise is that in the future everyone who enters puberty is fitted with what I will politely describe as a sexual appliance known as a consex. Andrews, the male character of the narrative tells of the process and explains why most people, male or female, has one fitted. He is fairly happy with the idea, especially when the 'sexiatrist' (doctor) explains that having one fitted is good, because every adult has one. The suggestion also that it is better than sex is also a pretty winning argument.

In a wider perspective, it has solved many social issues and has become a culturally accepted thing for both males and females, reducing basic urges and satisfying the needs of couples and bachelors alike. The story seems to be more about the need for cultural compliance rather than sex, although Andrews overhears Topolski, another more reluctant young man who, despite being put under pressure to comply, appears to refuse the fitting.

Whilst the story fizzles out at the end, it is one that made me think. Is the device a future version of contraception? How would a society, especially a British society, known for its stiff upper lip and reserve, become so accepting of something that would affect everyone at a personal level? Could it happen?

If the sign of a good story is that it makes you think, then this one scores – if you can buy into the idea working. 4 out of 5.

Temptation for the Leader, by R W Mackelworth

The return of RW, last seen in the July 1965 issue of Science Fantasy. Most of Mackelworth’s stories tend to deal with the issues of identity and responsibility in a future society, and this one is no different. A meeting between an alien who names itself “Poniard”, and “the President” of a capitalist nation (who may be the leader of the USA, though it is never clearly stated) leads to an offer of help and guidance for the human race – but at a price. In the end, the offer is rejected because of the effect it would have on individuality and capitalist values.

This is a very talky story, the conclusion is straight out of Arthur C Clarke’s Childhood’s End. There’s some good ideas here but the author seems to go about them in a rather roundabout way. 3 out of 5.

At Last, the True Story of Frankenstein, by Harry Harrison

Over at New Worlds, Harry is having his latest novel serialised. Here he tells a simpler and more serious shaggy-dog story by telling of Victor Frankenstein V, now reduced to being part of a carnival show and in need of a new animated body. At the same time Harry rewrites Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s seminal story in six pages, with a clever mix of humour and horror. Ray Bradbury would be proud of this one. 4 out of 5.

Sule Skerry, by Rob Sproat

Not an author’s name that I remember, so this seems to be the latest ‘new writer’ to grace the magazine. The idea is that Sule Skerry is a folksong collected by people recording old legends but then turned into prose. Whilst I don’t know if this Northumbrian story of the selkie is based on a real folk-song, I found the story quite sad and remarkably moving. A mythic folktale that was better than I thought it was going to be. 4 out of 5.

The Jobbers, by Johnny Byrne

Johnny has produced some very strange stories in the past. They are often too odd for my tastes, although this one was less obtuse than many. It begins with an unnamed man talking to two very small people who then appear to climb into his brain. They are ‘Jobbers’, whose purpose is to get into a person’s brain and prepare their body ready for the next inhabitant. It starts quite light-hearted but by the end becomes rather creepy. The twist in the tale, of whether what is happening is real or some imagined attack of insanity, is left up to the reader to decide. 3 out of 5.

Omega and Alpha, by Robert Cheetham

This month’s offering from a debut author, a bleak short story told in the form of a diary by an author and his wife who have gone to get away from it all on a tropical island. When a missile station on the far side of the island is destroyed – it is not clear whether it is just the island that is affected or a global event – the resultant radiation and ash leads to death. Another post-apocalyptic story of the sort that we’ve had a lot of lately, but it is quite effective in showing what the effects of a nuclear war would be after the bombs have gone off. An interesting debut, even if it treads a familiar path. 3 out of 5.

The Furies (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Roberts

To Keith’s last part of this story, which in my opinion has been one of the magazine’s strengths of the last few months.

Last issue we were left with Bill Sampson, having begun the human fight-back against the wasps, attempting to go and find his young friend Jane in France, only to be shot at by an army patrol and crashing his car.

This final part picks up where we left off. Bill is retrieved and brought back to health by two of his friends still hidden away in the Mendip Hills – Greg and Pete. Once he has recovered, the group hiding in the Chill Leer caves continue their guerrilla attacks upon the wasps, with varying degrees of success. There is an attack by the wasps inside the caves the humans have been hiding in. Eventually Bill and the traumatised girl 'Pete' are captured. To their surprise, rather than be killed, as many of their friends have been, they are spoken to by the Queen Wasp in a deus ex machina conclusion that explains the purpose of the wasps and leaves them with one message – that the wasps are dying because their determination to evolve rapidly has caused racial regression and that the humans must carry on and continue the Wasp’s purpose – to continue Life.

There are questions raised about the importance of hive intelligence, but this all ends rather suddenly, with a huge dollop of exposition and everything being tied up rather too abruptly for my liking. Most of all, the big plot reveal at the end is a bit of a stinker after such a great set-up. It rather feels like the author felt he was running out of time or space to finish the story and it all ends far too conveniently.

Although I couldn’t put this story down, it doesn't have the quality ending I was hoping for. Shame. 3 out of 5.

Summing up Science Fantasy

Despite The Furies not ending quite as well as I hoped it would, I’m very pleased that the story is still fairly strong. The whole issue is generally good, with Rob Sproat’s Sule Skerry being a surprisingly memorable tale.

But is it as good as New Worlds this month? Let’s go to my second magazine to find out!

The Second Issue At Hand

Unlike Science Fantasy, it may not be too surprising to find that New Worlds has gone all out to celebrate the London Worldcon’s Guest of Honour this month. From the enthusiastic comment on the back cover to appreciations by Edmund Crispin and Peter White, most of this issue is about Brian Aldiss. There’s a review of Aldiss’s novel Non-Stop by Mike Moorcock – you know, the one that Brian has reviewed himself in this month’s Science Fantasy. Even when it is not, it includes material from his friends – Harry Harrison’s serialised novel Bill, the Galactic Hero continues with its second part under the title A Dip in the Swimming Pool Reactor.

This month’s editorial from Mike Moorcock is one of two halves. The first tells us how great Harry Harrison’s novel is (I’ll comment on that later) before going on to entice us with future attractions. The second part reminds us that we have a Worldcon in London in about one month’s time, which we should be excited about. (Have I said in the last few minutes that Brian will be Guest of Honour at this month’s Worldcon in London?)

To the stories!

Girl and Robot with Flowers, by Brian Aldiss

So we begin this Aldiss issue with an Aldiss story that at first might make new readers a bit puzzled. It’s set in modern times, reading as if it was in The Times Literary Supplement. The science-fictional element is that the story is of a writer who, after a time has decided to begin writing again. You see, the author writes science fiction! (Tenuous link initiated.) What begins as an initially cosy domestic tale slowly changes, as our writer talks through the story he is thinking of writing comparing it with the reality of the place he is at and the woman he is with. And bam – Brian’s got your attention again, sneaking in a science fiction story without the reader realising it. It’s a gently subversive tale, questioning the purpose of science fiction, and of writing it – and gets extra credit for adding a few sf names in as well (Ballard, Pohl, Moorcock, for example.) Better than last month’s Jungian effort. 4 out of 5.

Old Time’s Sake, by Brian Aldiss

The first Aldiss story is immediately followed by a second, different type of story. As the title might suggest, this is a story about the passage of time. Brian is a fan of HG Wells, and it shows in this story of Alec Sampson, the world’s first immortal man. Aldiss says that it is a story written in 1954, and was meant to be the first of a series which never materialised. It’s a story of loss and envy, cloaked in academia, as Alec meets his peers knowing that the next time his progress is reviewed, most if not all of these people will have died. I would’ve been interested to see where Aldiss would have gone with this, had he taken the story further. I enjoyed it, but it is clearly an early Aldiss. It is interesting reading the two stories together though, as they show how Brian has matured as a writer. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by Douthwaite

Traveller’s Rest, by David Masson

Time travel of a different type now, from this debut author. Traveller’s Rest is this month’s most challenging read. Our main character, Hadolaris, is fighting a permanent war against a never seen enemy. After his latest sortie he is ‘Relieved’ (retired) and moves to a civilian life southwards away from the Front. He settles down with a job as a sales manager, marries and has three children, only to be re-enlisted and back at the front-line at the end of the story.

There’s not a lot of plot. What makes this story unusual is the idea that the war messes with Time and as you travel south away from the war zone time seems to get slower, whereas as you travel north time appears to be faster. Though to Hadol he has been away from the war for twenty years, it is no more than about twenty minutes at the front.

Traveller's Rest is perhaps the densest story in this issue and took me a while to determine what was going on. This complexity is helped by the author’s invention of words throughout to illustrate the plot. There are also interesting little ideas throughout – speech changes as you travel North or South – names become shorter or longer the nearer you are to the Front, for example. I also got a feeling that the time distortion may affect the soldier’s perceptions. The descriptions of war at the front are almost dream-like.

Those who relish untangling the story, deciphering the complexities of language and wrestling with the key concept of time dilation will find this one interesting. An impressive debut, although one that gains credit for the ideas rather than the plot. 4 out of 5.

Bill, the Galactic Hero, Part 2: A Dip in the Swimming pool Reactor, by Harry Harrison

I’m not going to say much about this one, as like I said last month, you will either love it or be unimpressed by it. In this part, blasé Bill stumbles his way through the continuing war against the Chingers. He visits the Imperial planet Helior – a planet plated with gold – to get a medal, meets the Emperor (or someone like him) and goes on furlough. He has things stolen, which upon reporting to the police leads to poor old Bill getting into trouble himself. To solve his troubles he becomes a Garbage-Man (G-Man for short) but is then persuaded by the Opposition Party to become an Anarchist, before being arrested as a deserter. It’s busy life for Bill… still silly but I enjoyed this part more than the first part. 3 out of 5.

Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Pleasure Garden of Felipe Sagittarius, by James Colvin

In which the New Worlds Book Reviewer wanders into the weird world that Mike Moorcock seemed to inhabit in last month’s issue… except that James is really Mike Moorcock!

This has the manner of a detective story, but one from an alternate world. Minos Aquilinas, Metatemporal Investigator of Europe, is asked to investigate the murder of a man in the garden of Police Chief Bismarck in Berlin.

Set in what might be an alternate timeline somewhere between now and the 1920s, this story reminded me of Moorcock’s tale of Jeremiah Cornelius last month. It is fast-paced and determinedly anarchic. Whilst it tries to be provocative – Eva Braun, Adolf Hitler and Stalin all appear, although not as we would expect to see them – the fast pace and attempt to use well-known people in a different way is refreshing. This Hitler is a very different one to the one we all know.  Odd, but I liked it. 3 out of 5.

At the End of Days

And here’s this month’s effort from across the seas. Last month it was Mack Reynolds, this month Robert Silverberg, who I appreciate readers in the US will know pretty well as an up-and-coming young writer. End of Days is short, but works well in the space given to it. 140-years-old Thomas Narin watches people around him as the world is slowly dying. He is suddenly met by a young boy, Jorid Dayson, from Rigel-Six, who is impressed to meet someone from Earth. Earth has become almost mythical to Jorid and his young friends. It’s an elegiac tale that hints of a bright future ahead for the human race – just not on Earth. Though The End of Days covers a relatively common theme, the style is pleasantly lyrical. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews, Articles and Letters

With all of this Aldiss-adulation (Aldissulation?), the reviews are shorter this month.

Edmund Crispin’s appreciation of Brian emphasises his ability to create visual images through prose. Peter White summarises Aldiss’s work to date and talks of his influence on British Sf today. Both articles are, as expected, pretty effervescent, although Mr. Crispin’s article, as you might expect from the author of the acclaimed Best Of… series of anthologies, is perhaps a more considered response.

Interestingly, Mr. White makes the claim that Brian’s best work to date is not science fiction, but The Male Response, a non-science fictional tale of sexual habits. I would disagree in that the book is not science fiction, as there are aspects that are science fictional – the rise of a future super-state in Africa, for example. I am sure readers will want to debate this further.

James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock) reviews Aldiss’s Non-Stop, which makes interesting reading when compared with the author’s own review in Science Fantasy. Colvin’s review is unsurprisingly glowing. He then goes on to review in less detail Best SF Four, edited by fellow contributor this month, Edmund Crispin, and finds the story collection “only average in general standard.” By contrast, New Writings in SF Three, edited by John Carnell is “perhaps the best in the series so far.” Next, Colin Kapp’s The Dark Mind is reviewed with the suggestion that the author should spend more time on studying his craft before writing his next novel. Ouch!

The last review is a more detailed one of J G Ballard’s The Drought, which you may know in the US as The Burning World. It is typically enthusiastic: “The Drought is refreshing, original and an authentic creative work which, in its own terms, can only be emulated, one suspects, by Mr. Ballard himself.”

No “Dr. Peristyle” this month – perhaps we have enough Mr. Aldiss this month already! Instead, we’re back to the Letters pages, albeit very briefly. The first letter echoes the common theme of moving the genre forward and not looking back, whilst John Brunner himself replies with a correction to Langdon Jones’ review of his novel The Telepathist, back in issue 151, and there’s an effusive letter from Edward Mackin on E C Tubb’s The Life Buyer back in issue 150.

In terms of Ratings, the great surprise for me from issue 152 in July is how well Night of the Gyul was received. However,  Dikk Richardson’s last placing is what A Funny Thing Happened deserved, sadly.

 

Summing up New Worlds

It is always risky focussing an issue mainly on one writer. If readers are not a fan of the particular author, will they buy the issue? However, I think that it has worked this time around. This feels like a strong issue – all the more so when I think of how New Worlds was two years ago. Again, how much you like this issue will I think depend a little on your love of Bill, the Galactic Hero, but the other elements I personally enjoyed more.

There’s a lot of mischievous fun in this issue, as well as some well-deserved plaudits for one of Britain’s best writers at the moment. The Masson story is a startling debut, which despite its weaknesses reflects the impressive range possible in science fiction at the moment.

Summing up overall

It’s difficult to knock the Aldiss coverage this month, although I’m not sure that the stories given here are his best. The audacious debut by Masson surprises most. I also liked the E C Tubb story in Science Fantasy, whilst continuing to be less impressed than many by Harrison’s silliness. However, the slightly disappointing conclusion of The Furies and the impressive range of material in the Brian Aldiss issue means that for me, this month’s issue of quality is New Worlds.

And with all of this love of Aldiss shared around the genre, that’s it for this time. Anyone going to Worldcon, have a wonderful time. I look forward to hearing the stories!

Until the next…

[Don't miss the next episode of The Journey Show, featuring a panel of amazing artists who will be doodling to YOUR specification!]




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