Just some of the many brands of sex you can enjoy at your local tobacconist theatre
It seems the final death knell for Capital Punishment in the UK will be sounded soon. There is a vote soon in the House of Lords, widely expected to pass, to make the trial period for the abolition of the death penalty permanent. Over the last few years we have seen a raft of reforms, removing Victorian laws and decriminalizing a number of controversial practices. At the same time, censorship is being removed so you can see nudity on the West End or watch young women discussing sex in the cinema. This would seem to be placing Britain into a more permissive society.
“Sandwiches, blimey! Whatever did I give the wife?” – Monty Python’s Flying Circus
But that does not seem to be true in all areas. The crackdown on the use of illicit drugs continues apace, with heavy-handed tactics of the police being widely reported. Meanwhile, the Northern Irish MP Bernadette Devlin is currently appealing against a six-month sentence of “inciting persons unknown to commit the offence of riotous behavior” for encouraging resistance to police during the so-called Battle of the Bogside.
As such, it appears this liberalism has its limits. Actors can get their kit off in front of the public but not smoke cannabis in their own homes. Women can get access to the contraceptive pill and abortions (assuming their GP agrees) but they still cannot get a mortgage without a male guarantor. People from more different backgrounds are becoming MPs but political activity outside of official parameters is still viewed with suspicion.
This sense I have of British society also reflects what I am seeing in Visions of Tomorrow. It seems to be throwing off some of its earlier conservatism but has not become a second New Worlds either. Instead, the contents of this issue would not be out of place in Dangerous Visions.
Now back on its regular monthly schedule, the editor gives us an incredibly dull introduction, discussing whether SF has become a mainstream genre. No more insight is given than the hundred other editorials on the subject for the past 30 years.
The Ill Wind by Jack Wodhams Illustrated by Dick Howett
Gongi Wackerman stinks and has been going through many experiments to see if he can be rid of his noxious odour. However, one such test concludes his scent has a psychedelic effect on people and they want to employ him to help mental patients.
Wodhams is not an author I have particularly enjoyed in the past and this continues that trend. It is so silly and dull, it makes his Undercover Weapon, seem like a work of high literature.
In the future, laws and self-censorship have been abolished. People are free to act on their own choices. Even murder is allowed, but classes are taught to ensure that people are smart with their actions as a means of self-defence.
Marlo French is contacted by Ed Whalen, High Boss of Chicago Chemicals. Whalen’s daughter Naomi has stolen their new compound and is hiding out in the impenetrable Staysafe Apartments. As a discreet freelancer, French is tasked with getting back the pills by any means necessary.
Marlo discovers that Naomi has a penchant for Mannikins, robotic male blow-up dolls, and so proposes to impersonate one in order to get inside her flat. But this case may not be as simple as he believes.
This is a much darker and more complicated tale than I expected from these pages or Ol’ Edwin. He posits a world without laws or morality but makes it feel real and vivid, not a cardboard cutout for a simple point. The case itself has a great atmosphere and consists of the kind of twists and double-crosses you would expect from hard-boiled detective fiction. I hope we get more exploration of this future, as it is more fascinating to me than Raynolds’ People’s Capitalism or Anderson’s space navy tales.
I am not sure if he is getting better, or if I am getting more tolerant as I age through my thirties, but I found this to be his second exemplary tale in as many months.
A High Four Stars
Ward 13: A Tale of the first Martian by Sydney J. Bounds Illustrated by Dick Howett
In City Seven Hospital, Dr. Kirby is part of a team that collects on scene organ donations before they are stolen by illegal freeze-wagons. One night, on his way home, he finds one of his nurses under attack by a gang. In attempting to rescue her, he is kidnapped and put to a surprising purpose.
I don’t think it was just me grooving to a Zappa record that meant I had trouble concentrating, I found it over-described and dull. Also these kind of panicky stories about organ transplants and population explosions have become so common they already feel more cliched than ray guns and flying saucers.
A moderately interesting twist in the tail keeps it just off the bottom rating.
A Low Two Stars
Breeding Ground by Christopher Priest Illustrated by Dick Howett
Luke Caston, a space salvager, comes across the wreck of the Merchant Princess, a lost ship fabled to carry tons of gems. However, the ship is infested with Space-Mites, three-inch hairy coils that reproduce at an extraordinary rate when they find a source of electrical energy. They also happen to be Caston’s biggest fear.
A reasonable story, reasonably told. Not revolutionary but atmospheric and enjoyable.
Three Stars
Trieste: SF Film Festival by John Carnell
Whilst much of the rest of the SF community were eagerly watching the Apollo 11 mission in July, the New Writings editor John Carnell was attending an SF film festival in Trieste, Italy. The award winners were as follows:
An interesting look at films that might otherwise pass us by. I will certainly be keeping my eyes peeled for showings at the BFI.
Four Stars
*Luna fanzine gives the winner as a different actress from the same film, Ritva Vespa. I have not been able to ascertain which report is accurate.
The Impatient Dreamers 4: Science Fiction Weakly by Walter Gillings Reproduction of a cover from Britain’s short-lived attempt to get into the SF game. Artist unknown.
The recitations of Gillings’ memories of SF yesteryear reaches 1934. He tells us of the short-lived weekly magazine Scoops, his own early attempts to get an SF magazine off the ground, and serialisations of Burroughs and Conan-Doyle.
By this point you know what to expect from Gillings, and this untold history continues to impress me.
Five Stars
Time-Slip by Eric Harris Illustrated by Dick Howett
Constable Paul goes with an Arunta tracker called Nungajiri to try to find a family lost in the outback. Whilst four of the party are found, the baby remains unaccounted for. Even though the rest of the police think he is crazy, Paul and Nungajiri are determined to see if they can bring the child home.
This is a strange kind of tale. It starts of as a standard mystery story and evolves into one involving geometry, nodal-points in the timestream and the concept of Dreamtime. It felt to me like a cross between Picnic at Hanging Rock and an early HP Lovecraft story. One that I am not sure I understood but I am pretty sure I am not supposed to either.
I am afraid I am not particularly familiar with depictions of aboriginal Australians (having never visited the country myself and I have no familiarity with the Arunta religion) and as such I do not feel particularly qualified to comment on it. I will say this felt somewhat cliched to me but not meanspirited, although that is only a personal sense.
A tentative Four Stars, at least until someone with more knowledge than me can fill in the gaps.
Psycho-Land by Philip E. High Illustrated by Dick Howett
Peter Carton, a sufferer of dementia praecox, has taken control of a machine that makes people in range subject to paranoia and irrational anger. With thirty thousand lives in jeopardy, the government is forced to call on William Charles Hopwood, a noble prize-winning physicist and ardent pacifist, as possibly the only person qualified to both resist the impulses and turn off the machine.
Devices affecting brain waves have become a common feature of SF recently, but this manages to elevate itself above the pack in a few different ways. Firstly, the atmosphere. As it indeed says in the text, High makes a small city seem like an alien world. Secondly, pacificists rarely have an active role in SF stories, so it was fascinating to see how this concept could be used. Finally, the twist in the tail is a good one, I will be thinking about it for some time.
A High Four Stars
Takeover by Harold G. Nye Illustrated by Eddie Jones
Charlie Adams is a grumpy hypochondriac who finds himself in the midst of a plan by television sets to destroy humanity.
I am reliably informed this is a pseudonym of Lee Harding, an unprolific but solid writer. As a piece of satire on modern society and religion it is more subjective than most pieces. The silliness didn’t land for me but may appeal more to others.
Two Stars
Prime Order by Peter Cave Illustrated by Dick Howett
On a routine mining expedition, one of the team caught space fever and then proceeded to murder the crew and destroy the ship. In order to avoid another such incident, Martin Stone at Amalgamated Electronics is asked to design one of the most intelligent and powerful robots ever. It also has one significant difference to all prior models. Asimov’s first law of robotics:
A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
Is replaced with:
The Robot must be able to protect the majority of the party at all or any cost.
The result is Robot R.E.D. 197, who appears to work perfectly in testing. However, when he and a mining crew crash land on an uncharted planet, his logic circuits are pushed to their limit.
At first glance this seems a more traditional tale that would fit snugly into Analog’s pages. However, it is lifted up by the cynicism of the people involved and the darkness of the ending.
A high three stars
Fantasy Review Illustration by Jeeves
Ken Slater reviews John Brunner’s Quicksand, which he highly recommends, Peter Weston raves about Larry Niven’s collection Neutron Star and Kathryn Buckley praises Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonflight (with the caveat of allowances for being a newcomer to novels). Meanwhile, John Foyster has mixed feelings about the contents of Carr & Wollheim’s latest World’s Best SF, Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five and the multi-authored Conan of Cimmeria, but is full of praise for Harry Warner, Jr.’s All Our Yesterdays.
A New Era? Preview illustration by Eddie Jones for next month’s short novel, Life of the Party
So, this marks a slight change of direction for Vision of Tomorrow. Gone are the Kenneth Bulmer swashbucklers—in their place are atmospheric tales of ambiguous morality. The kind of pieces Harlan Ellison would probably be happy with.
Whether this trend continues or reverses into the 70s will probably be a reflection of where British society heads. On the one hand, all the recent court cases and laws on censorship have been on the side of more liberality. On the other, there are prominent voices that decry the current obsession with “pills and pot” in the media.
Last night, BBC2 went with more traditional fare: This Happy Breed to celebrate Noel Coward's 70th Birthday
Anyway, there will be many years ahead to worry about that. For now, I wish you all the joy of the season and, if I don't see you sooner, a happy new year!
[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]
Did the Kinks have a point about preserving village greens?
On the other hand, at this time last month 4 of the top 5 singles were all country influenced songs, from Bobbie Gentry, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan. Now, there has always been some country influence in the charts (as shown by Jim Reeves having 7 posthumous top 20 singles and counting) but it is certainly reaching a new level when the Beach Boys and Rolling Stones are both trying it out. In addition, folk is also growing, often with a nostalgic edge, in such songs as Fairport Convention’s Who Knows Where the Time Goes or Donovan’s Atlantis.
These differences can also be seen in SF and, perhaps, there is no clearer division than that which can be observed between the two publications I am reviewing today.
The New S.F., ed. by Langdon Jones Cover by Colin Mier
An introduction by Michael Moorcock
Who else would you choose but Moorcock to introduce this selection of New Wave authors? Here he talks about how the “new SF writers” or “New Worlds group” have moved beyond spaceships and monsters to do more person-centric poetic pieces.
Fourteen Stations on the Northern Line by Giles Gordon
Fourteen different men observe an unnamed woman to different degrees of lechery as she walks up a hill. She fails to notice them as she has other things on her mind.
If it was not in this collection, it would probably not be considered SF, more akin to a Joyce than a Gernsback, only approaching the latter with the surrealism of the mind.
Moorcock’s introduction notes this as an example of a “compacted novel”, one that could be extended to a traditional novel but that would blunt the impact significantly. I cannot determine if I wanted this to be longer, shorter or reworked, but something is amiss. The metaphor, though obvious, is a good one (what passenger on a train pays attention to the small commuter stations?) and the difference in the inner lives of the observer and observed make a solid basis. But it left me wanting something better from it.
A Jerry Cornelius story from his creator. In this episode, Europe has been devastated by American bombs (of course Europe still supports their allies in this action) and our dandified spy goes to China to deal with a downed American plane. His mission is complicated by the fact that he falls in love with one of the Chinese generals.
One interesting element here is Moorcock explicitly calls out the connection between Cornelius and his other tales:
Having been Elric, Asquiol, Minos, Aquilinus, Clovis Marca, now and forever he was Jerry Cornelius of the noble price, proud prince of ruins, boss of the circuits. Faustaff, Muldoon, the eternal champion…
There was always a suggestion of this previously, and The Blood Red Game (Science Fiction Adventures, 1963) and A Cure for Cancer both feature multiple universes, but I believe this is the first time we get it confirmed that this is not simply a case of repeated motifs.
Looking at it in this manner, we see the biting contemporary satire evolving into a more epic struggle and Moorcock’s other heroes as more than just throwaway fantasy figures. Rather there is a degree of tragedy in them having to deal with these various forces of order and chaos, making horrific choices for, what they hope, is the greater good (which rarely ends well).
A High Four Stars
Fast Car Wash by George MacBeth
A car gets cleaned… that is the entire story.
Moorcock calls this a readymade poem. I am assuming forthcoming are also a transcription of microwave instructions and George MacBeth’s shopping list.
One star
The Anxiety in the Eyes of the Cricket by James Sallis
Another Jerry Cornelius story, who is seemingly becoming to the New Wave what the Cthulhu tales have become to SF horror. This vignette apparently takes place shortly after the end of The Peking Junction (although Moorcock indicates this is better read as an alternative version) as JC returns to England a broken man. He stays in the house of his friend Michael, a man who predicted the apocalyptic future. They spend their time drinking and having sex between watching devastation from their window and discussing the nature of guilt.
A much quieter tale and more introspective than the other Cornelius tales with a good dose of metafiction (if Michael is not surnamed Moorcock, I will eat my hat) added in. It is also incredibly bleak, with cities burning, Britain used as America’s crematorium, and Cornelius a broken man now simply looking for his missing family. But it is all the more powerful for it.
Five Stars
The New Science Fiction: A Conversation between J. G. Ballard & George MacBeth
This is the transcription of part of a discussion on BBC Radio 3 (formerly the Third Programme) last year titled The New Surrealism. In this extract, J. G. Ballard explains why he moved away from linear storytelling.
I missed this on its broadcast and I am very pleased it was reproduced here. Ballard manages to explain eloquently what he is trying to achieve in his stories and it has given me an increased appreciation for his work. Two sections I want to call out here as particularly incisive:
…one has many layers, many levels of experience going on at the same time. On one level might be the world of public events, Cape Kennedy, Vietnam, political life, on another level the immediate personal environment, the rooms we occupy, the postures we assume. On a third level, the inner world of the mind. All these levels are, as far as I can see them, equally fictional, and it is where these levels interact that one gets the only kind of inner reality that in fact exists nowadays.
…Burroughs’s narrative techniques… [are] an immediately recognisable reflection of the way life is actually experienced, that we live in quantified non-linear terms – we switch on television sets, switch them off half an hour later, speak on the telephone, read magazines, dream, and so forth. We don’t live our lives in linear terms in the sense that Victorians did.
Another of Aldiss’ tales of Europeans in India. This time Slansky, a Czech filmmaker, is staying in a Das’ hotel outside Delhi when he hears of the Soviet invasion, He wants to get back home to help resist the attack, Das thinks they should be concentrating on their joint film project on the nature of time. Things get even more complicated when Slansky discovers there is a Russian guest in the room below his.
Interestingly, this manages a similar feel to Sallis’ piece even though it is contemporary rather than apocalyptic and could only be considered SFnal in the broadest sense. Here it is an exploration of the age-old argument of whether art can or should be apolitical, with this sense of gloom and despair. An important reminder that worlds are being blown up outside our window, not just in our magazines.
Four Stars
Direction by Charles Platt
An unnamed man has an argument at home. In response he gets drunk in a pub and then wanders around London in an inebriated haze.
Another piece where I am not sure the point of it, nor what it is doing in an SF anthology. There are some interesting writing techniques but that is all I can see to recommend it.
A low two stars
Postatomic by Michael Butterworth
We are told of four impossible beings, who may or may not be the same character across different time periods.
Not sure what its purpose is but it is certainly evocative.
Three Stars
For Thomas Tompion by Michael Moorcock
Moorcock completes his trilogy of entries with a four-line poem, addressed to the father of English clock-making.
Simple but well done for what it is.
Three stars
A Science Fiction Story for Joni Mitchell by Maxim Jakubowski
A science fiction writer has grown dissatisfied with the genre; instead he wants to write neo-psychedelic pop songs and tales of drug journeys. However, he has a deadline to hit, and the adventures of Coit Kid vs. the Subliminal Police don’t write themselves. Anyway, there is no chance of his other ideas intruding on a good old-fashioned science fiction story, is there?
A hilarious take on writing, modern pop music and science fiction cliches. It is done in a series of cut up pieces but logical rather than disparate. The whole exercise is delicious and I am going to be remembering many of the lines for some time.
This novella is a fragmented narrative, telling of a disparate set of people who work at Drum Inc., a technology company which provides a wide variety of services over phone lines and dreams of superseding Bell as the national monopoly.
Members of this organisation include Marilyn, who keeps getting mysterious calls that simply say “Marilyn, he loves you”, Sam Kravon, who is being driven mad by his job in Estimates, Phil Wang, the Art Director who is sure people are questioning his loyalty to the US, Ray, a cripple who is being constantly shuffled between departments, and David, who believes reality is refrangible.
At the same time, there are hints of experiments going on within the company that are of interest to the CIA.
Partially this is an extension of his multiple-choice form tales from New Worlds, with these regularly interrupting the text. And partially this is an experiment of split narratives, with the narrative like a butterfly flitting between different stories with such regularity that I wondered if I could use a flow chart.
Whilst it is an interesting experiment, it goes on for far too long (at almost 70 pages, far longer than anything else in this collection) and the whole is less than the sum of its parts.
Three Stars
Seeking a Suitable Donor by D. M. Thomas
An organ donor before their surgery contemplates his journey to this point.
The strange alignment of the text doesn’t add much to this tale of familiar themes but a perfectly reasonable example.
Three Stars
The Holland of the Mind by Pamela Zoline
Graham, Jessica and their child Rachel take a holiday from the US to Amsterdam in 1963. However, visiting the Venice of the North is not going to help them outrun their problems.
This is a tricky one to review. On the one hand it is beautifully written but shocking look at depression and the breakdown of a marriage, counterpointing the history of the Netherlands with their personal situation.
On the other, it is barely SFnal. There is one moment towards the end which could be taken as such. But it could also be taken as metaphorical and\or natural phenomena. As such I was partially disappointed. It reminded me somewhat of Morris’ travelogue Venice.
However, I adore Morris’ writing. As such I am happy to give it the benefit of the doubt and judge it as a piece of literary short fiction. On those grounds it is brilliant.
Five Stars
Quincunx by Thomas M. Disch
As the name suggests, this is made up of five vignettes:
• Chrysanthemums: Mr. Candolle ponders the meaning of chrysanthemums in hospital rooms
• Representation: The narrator speaks of his lost love Judith
• The Death of Lurleen Wallace: A circular tale of princes, presidential campaigns and books
• Mate: A letter from former lovers which also deals with a correspondence chess match
• The Assumption: Miss Lockesly teaches her class about death
I am not sure though what shape we are meant to form. To some extent they are all about endings in different ways but no consensus is reached nor are they particularly profound.
Two Stars
Thus ends this experiment of a book, one which I have rated all over the place. To change a famous quote, there is a thin line between genius and drivel. This anthology erases it.
Issue #2 has finally arrived. No explanation is given for the delay other than “circumstances beyond our control”. Whatever the reason, we shall now dive into the contents:
Quarry by E. C. Tubb Illustrated by Gerard Alfo Quinn
Quelto Daruti is a prisoner of the Federation. he decides to make use of an obscure law. The Quarry-Hunt. He is to be hunted across the harsh landscape of Zen to sanctuary. If he can make it alive, he will be pardoned, but the only person who ever managed it before died of their wounds soon afterwards.
Durati however has two advantages the authorities do not know about. Firstly, he is a telepath. Secondly, the Terran league are very interested in his survival
Yes, it is yet another spin on The Most Dangerous Game, but a pretty good one. Stylistically it can be heavy at times, but this is made up for when it is action packed.
Just sneaks in at four stars.
Strictly Legal by Douglas Fulthorpe Illustrated by James
The intelligent spider-creatures of Proxima Centauri claim ownership of Earth’s Moon, on the grounds that it detached from one of their planets when it was molten. At first everyone assumes this is a joke. However, it turns out they are in deadly earnest, and the legal implications of the case will have devastating consequences.
This is a slippery slope argument delivered with all the subtlety of a brick through a window. The style is readable enough, but it requires so many “what-ifs” to make the idea work, I am not surprised everyone inside this piece of fiction assumes it is all a joke.
Two Stars
Moonchip by John Rankine
Millenia ago a small piece of metal fell to Earth. It has now been mined and ended up part of a car, one that is involved in a strangely high number of fatal accidents. But that is just coincidence, right?
I found this to be a dull and violent tale with little purpose. Maybe if you enjoy hoary old horror stories or car-based fiction it will appeal to you, but not to me.
One Star
A Judge of Men by Michael G. Coney Illustrated by Eddie Jones
Scott travels with the trader Bancroft to the planet Karumba, the only source of Shroom (a kind of puff ball that can be woven) in the galaxy. The Shroom harvest is lessening as the planet gets colder and Karumbans may face extinction. However, having seen how humans treat animals in zoos, they refuse to allow any scientific help from humanity. Bancroft is willing to respect the Kamburans' wishes, the young ambitious Scott, however, is determined to solve the mysteries of this world, no matter what anyone else may think.
This did not go in the direction I expected. This started out seeming like it was merely going to be an experiment in xenobiology and the effects of planetary tilt but it went into much deeper territory around what it means to be a person, respect for native belief systems and the responsibility of ethical science.
My only complaint is it was too short to address all of the areas it touched on properly. I would love to see it expanded into one-half of an Ace Double.
A high four stars
Frozen Assets by Dan Morgan
Larry is a used air-car salesman who, with his fiancée Olivia is determined to find a way to get rich quick according to their realist philosophy. The first scheme involves being married to a wealthy divorcee but it turns out the pre-nuptial agreement states that Olivia won’t get any money from accidental death until after five years.
Larry then discovers there is a cure for cirrhosis of the liver, a condition his rich uncle Frank was cryogenically frozen with. He hopes to revive Frank and take control of his estate, however Frank is not quite as witless as Larry supposes.
This is the kind of story I dislike. It requires the setting up of a series of silly rules people follow, explaining them as they go along. In addition, it wends all over the place, barely sticking in one place for more than a moment.
One star
The Impatient Dreamers 2: Aims and Objects by Walter Gillings
Filling in the gap between installments 1 and 3, we learn of Gillings' efforts to show that there is a strong enough market for science fiction in Britain to support a magazine.
This series continues to be excellent and contains a lot of fascinating details. Such as that Britain at this time didn’t have specialist fiction magazines at all and that Len Kippin just would hand out leaflets wherever he saw SF on sale.
Five Stars
Echo by William F. Temple Illustrated by B. M. Finch
The Saurian Venusians have taken over the body of Richard Gaunt by use of a temporary echo of the personality of Narvel. They intend to steal the secrets of Organic Materials Inc., however, it turns out that being a human is harder than it seems.
I actually covered this last year in Famous, and I was planning to just reprint my review from there. However, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to look for any changes. I was taken aback that it was almost entirely rewritten. The plot remains identical but the prose is almost a complete overhaul. To compare one of the more similar sections:
Famous version:
Being a mammal, without previous experience, was to me a series of surprises, mostly unpleasant.
Gaunt, I knew, had the social habit of drinking whiskey. I first drank whiskey on the Pacific with a couple of engineers from Minneapolis.
After a while, I remarked with some concern. “Darn, it, the grav-motors are failing.”
This sometimes happened on space trips, and until they were repaired everyone had to endure free fall. I’d felt the beginning of free fall coming on; at least, I felt I was beginning to float. And I said so.
The two men looked at me strangely, then at each other.
“One whiskey on the rocks and he’s floating,” laughed one.
And the Vision version:
I became a Tyro mammal among experienced mammals.
My deficiencies first began to show on the spaceship to Earth. On the passenger list I was Richard Gaunt. I was Gaunt, physically. I did my best to act like him personally.
I knew he had this social habit of drinking whisky. I gave it a whirl at the bar with an engineer from Minneapolis.
After two whiskies, I remarked, ‘What’s gone wrong with the grav-motors?’
My companion looked at me strangely.
‘They seem okay to me. Sure I’s not the whisky hitting you? This special space brew is potent, you know, if you’re not used to it.’
Now, the scene being depicted has the same purpose: Narvel giving an example of not being used to certain human situations with impersonating Gaunt by his lack of familiarity with Whisky causing him to think there is an issue with the grav-motors. But the feel is completely changed. The prior version is concentrating on feelings and giving it a more comedic sense. The new version is more cerebral and philosophical about the nature of identity.
I still have a number of problems with the text but the changes make it clearer to me what he is trying to do. As such it jumps up a little bit in my ratings.
A low three stars
Undercover Weapon by Jack Wodhams Illustrated by James
The Fiberphut fabric disintegrator was developed as a means of removing bandages without damaging the skin underneath. When the army look to test its possible military applications, Lt. Cladwell makes his own duplicate model at home. He and his brother-in-law are determined to make a fortune from this device…along with many amorous encounters along the way.
This is the kind of unfunny sex comedy that seem to be growing in popularity at the cinema these days. I don’t like it there and I don’t like it here. I am a little surprised to see this included given last month’s stated “no pornography” policy, but I guess as nothing is described it is considered “good clean fun” by Harbottle. I, on the other hand, find it lecherous and dull.
One Star
Dancing Gerontius by Lee Harding Illustrated by A. Vince
The elderly on welfare are generally kept in a dream-like state in specialist facilities. However, annually they participate in Year Day, where a combination of drugs and advanced machinery allow them to participate in a period of bacchanalian hedonism. We follow Berensen’s experiences as he is crowned King for the day.
An evocative piece that did not go in the direction I expected it to. Quite haunting by the end.
Four Stars
Minos by Maurice Whitta Illustrated by Eddie Jones
The final piece is by a new writer to me. The colony-ship Launcelot crash lands on Amor VII, killing almost ¾ of the occupants, including all the women. Another ship primarily composed of women also makes landfall, but contact is lost. From the Guinevere there start emerging minotaur like creatures that attack the men of Launcelot, what could have happened?
This whole piece is kind of a muddle, smelling to me of new author problems. The concepts are good and the point an interesting one. At the same time the action sequences are well written. The problem is structural. For such a small piece too much time is spent in irrelevant sections and the more poignant parts are rushed.
It is not bad though and I hope that Mr. Whitta can sort the issues out in the future.
A low Three Stars
Story rankings from issue 1, my main surprise is seeing the fascinating Lem below the woeful Coney, but each to their own.
Fantasy Review Illustrated by Philip Harbottle
Ken Slater reviews Timepiece by Brian N. Ball (which he did not enjoy) and Harry Harrison’s Deathworld 3 (which he did). We then have a new reviewer, Kathryn Buckley, covering Stand on Zanzibar in a highly complementary manner. Perhaps trying to balance coverage of the New Wave along with the Good Old Stuff?
Best of Both Worlds? Additional illustration by Eddie Jones
In both my SF and my music, I am generally drawn towards the future facing experimental works, preferring Colosseum and Chip Delany over The Band and Edgar Rice Burroughs. But I also appreciate both have their advantages and place.
Doing a Sunday afternoon of gardening is wonderful accompanied by some Neil Young or Townes van Zandt. Just as an adventurous tale of daring-do might not be as accomplished as one of Ballard’s cut up stories, it can be a more fun and easy read.
So, whilst neither is perfect, with both the above publications showing successes and failures, I like to think that science fiction is big enough to have both our swashes buckled and our minds expanded.
The Times is running a series of articles where major thinkers elucidate on what they believe life will be like in 1980. The series started with Arthur Koestler (philosopher most known for his Orwellian novel, Darkness at Noon) who predicts that, in the Britain of 1980, Mediocracy will be the order of the day.
Arthur Koestler by David Levine
By this he means that instead of having a meritocratic system, defined by IQ plus effort, the main ingredients of life will be common sense plus inertia. Institutions will continue in modified forms without revolutionary change. Politicians are more likely to be dentists than demagogues. The family structure will continue but divorce and extramarital relationships will be commonplace. Housewives will have “bugs”, small time-saving robots, to do their household tasks, but they will breakdown so frequently the repairman will be a regular guest.
On a more positive note, he foresees the removal of private cars from cities, to be replaced by automated electric vehicles for hire. Office work will be done from home, with tactile simulators introduced to ensure people do not feel deprived of physical contact. Education will begin shortly after birth and young people will be encouraged to engage in more out-there behaviour before settling into mediocre adulthood.
We will have to wait another decade to see if his predictions come true. But, if the latest Vision of Tomorrow is any sign of things to come, mediocrity is certainly on the horizon.
Yes, I am also still waiting for issue #2. I am assuming there was some hiccough at the printers.
In his editorial, Harbottle continues to outline his vision for the magazine. Firstly, stories must be “entertaining”, secondly, they should not contain sex. New Worlds this is not!
Let’s see how this translates into prose.
Shapers of Men by Kenneth Bulmer
Illustrated by Eddie Jones
Once again, Mr. Bulmer opens the magazine with an adventure tale. This one, we are told, marks the start of a new series. Fletcher Cullen, “galactic bum”, travels across the stars wherever the loot and action take him. In this opening installment, Cullen’s flier is shot down over Sitasz and he finds himself in the middle of a conflict between the humans and the natives.
Illustrated by Eddie Jones
This is a rather old-fashioned kind of interplanetary tale with some attempts at modern touches. Cullen is an untrustworthy rogue, miles away from Flash Godon or Clark Kent, the Sitazans are a well-constructed alien race and there are attempts to bring in modern frames of reference like LSD.
However, it is really boring to read. Generally each chapter will spend most of the time in overwrought descriptions and dull exposition, then a quick escape, followed by a capture by someone else. Even Bulmer’s amusing similes are like fish and guests, starting to smell off after the third time.
A low two stars
Number 7 by Eric C. Williams
Frederick Hasty, technical overseer of demolitions in London, is called to Number 7, Good Peace Road, in New Cross. Its destruction is a necessary part of the rationalization of London currently taking place. Unfortunately, the property is surrounded by an impregnable invisible barrier.
A reasonable little mystery but one that does not amount to very much.
A low three stars
Science Fiction in Germany by Franz Rottensteiner
A one-page summary of the SF scene in both Germanies, covering Perry Rhodan, Utopia Zukunftsromane, translations, fanzines and conventions.
It does the job it intends to but it is not as good as Cora’s coverage.
Three stars
People Like You by David Rome
Illustrated by B. M. Finch
Gail and Gordon Coulton, and their daughter Dorinda, are staying in a holiday home overlooking Cody Canyon when they notice some of their property has been taken. They suspect it is their neighbour, George Abbot. But what could he want with these items?
I was reminded of The People stories, but Rome is no Henderson. It is enjoyable enough, with a nice twist in the tail, but nothing special.
Three Stars
The Impatient Dreamers Part 3: Shadow of the Master by Walter Gillings
With us still waiting for the intervening issue, we skip to the third of Gillings articles, looking here at the emergence of British SF writers and publications in the 1930s, along with his efforts to establish more SF fan clubs.
This continues to be a brilliant series casting a spotlight on an area of SF development I rarely see discussed.
Five Stars
Pioneers of Science Fantasy
Some special colour reprints and short looks at big names in the history of the genre. A kind of supplement to the prior article.
Fantasy Review
Ken Slater reviews the latest E. C. Tubb interstellar adventure, Escape Into Space. Apparently, it is a disappointment, lacking character and convincing explanations.
Speaking of Tubb, this tale tells of Frank Weston, a morgue attendant who manages to get his hands on a ring of The Special People. These rings are a kind of portable time machine, allowing him to reverse time over a short period. Frank uses it to get rich and powerful, but can it really give him everything he desires?
A pretty standard tale of this type, well told. Once again Ted lands straight in the middle.
Three Stars
The Adapters by Philip E. High
Illustrated by Gerard Alfo Quinn
Roger Pryor is a fugitive from The Invaders. Five years ago, people started falling down totally incapacitated when touched by them. They are huge beings invisible except in very specific temperatures and lighting. They continually tell him they are here to help and rescue him, but what can their real agenda be?
A tense and evocative piece. Not the most original but enjoyable enough to bump it above the general chatter.
A low four stars
The Nixhill Monsters by Brian Waters
Whilst travelling across the Australian outback Alice and Graham swerve to avoid a strange creature, like a glowing transparent humanoid. Stopping in the nearby town they are curious to know more, the townspeople however are determined to kill the monster.
This feels to me like a middle-of-the-road episode of The Twilight Zone, overly simple moral and all. Whilst fairly competently constructed it feels strange that everyone here quickly accepts the existence of an alien, but also wants to murder her simply because she looks weird.
Two stars
World to Conquer by Sydney J. Bounds
Illustrated by BM Finch
With the Earth devastated by radiation poisoning, humanity is desperately searching for a new habitable planet to live on. When they finally find the world of Asylum, it is already occupied by the intelligent Fliers. Leo Crane is sent to meet the inhabitants, to discover how easily they can be exterminated.
Whilst some parts of this are very old-fashioned (Marie’s “I’m a woman” speech is particularly excruciating), I found the scientific concepts involved interesting and the question raised about how humanity treats the worlds it finds worth pondering. By the end you want to ask if we would really have the right to survive?
Evens out at a high Three Stars
Prisoner in the Ice by Brian Stableford
Illustrated by BM Finch
After centuries of battling the encroaching ice, the Earth is finally starting to warm up. On one of these ice sheets three men discover a saber-toothed tiger, frozen in mid-leap.
A much more philosophical story than I was expecting from these pages. The tiger and ice melt are really just metaphors, the main thrust of this piece is a discussion about what people become when they fight to survive. Do they become the winners or merely leftovers?
Interesting to compare and contrast with the previous story.
Four Stars
A Dentist’s Waiting Room
An unusual final image from Dick Howett previewing issue #4
So perhaps common sense and inertia are the tools behind Visions of Tomorrow. I feel like little here would be out of place ten years ago, but it is generally competent. Only the Bulmer I found to have any structural flaws.
Whether this middle of the road approach will work in the long run remains to be seen. Being unobjectionable but unremarkable is not necessarily going to get people to drop their 5 shillings for the next issue. As the architect of the NHS Aneurin Bevan said:
We know what happens to people who stay in the middle of the road. They get run over!
Aside from the stray short story I have to admit I had not read any of John Jakes’s novels, of which there have been many as of late—so many, in fact, that we folks at the Journey have not been able to cover every new Jakes book. Just this year alone we’ve gotten three or four Jakes novels, with at least one more already in the can as I’m writing this. So consider this a bit of “catching up,” for the both of us. Jakes started a new science-fantasy series a couple years ago with When the Star Kings Die, and this year he has put out not one, but two more entries in this series. For the sake of not overwhelming the reader, though, let’s just keep it to the first two entries… for now.
Humanity has spread across the stars in what is called II Galaxy, with a planet-spanning league of aristocrats called the 'Lords of the Exchange' (the titular star kings) keeping things in check. The star kings are supposed to live for centuries, being near-immortal, but something has been leading these long-lived aristocrats to early deaths. Maxmillion Dragonard (a name I certainly did not pull out of a hat) is a Regulator, one of the enforcers for the star kings, who starts out imprisoned for a bout of intensely violent behavior but is soon freed on the condition that he investigates why the star kings are dying young. He soon travels to the planet Pentagon, a backwater home to little in the way of technology or civilization, but which seems to house the answer to the mystery; and there he gets involved with a group of rebels who go by the 'Heart Flag'. Dragonard’s sense of loyalty gets split between his allegiance to the star kings, personified by a mischievous spy named Kristin, whom Dragonard quickly falls in love with, and the leaders of the Heart Flag group, Jeremy and his sister Bel.
If you read certain passages out of context you might think you’re reading an adventure fantasy yarn in the Robert E. Howard mode, which Jakes is no stranger to, but overall this is much more evocative of Leigh Brackett’s planetary adventures—low on scientific plausibility but high on swashbuckling action. We have swords and daggers, but also blasters and “electroguns,” not to mention spaceships. Another thing carried over from both Howard and Brackett is this heightened sense of sexuality—or to put it less charitably, the fact that there are only two female characters of note in this novel, and both of them want to jump Dragonard’s bones. Jakes also can’t help himself when it comes to focusing on the women’s breasts, especially Kristin’s. In fairness, Dragonard is a man who has just been broken out of prison, and ultimately this is not a very serious novel. When the Star Kings Die was published in 1967, although the Journey didn’t cover it then; but if not for the publication date you might think it was printed in 1947, possibly as a “complete” novel in the likes of Startling Stories and other bygone pulps. It seems deliberately retrograde, but it’s unobtrusive so far as that goes.
This is a short novel, such that I’m actually surprised Ace didn’t bundle it with another short novel or novella. Even so, with just 160 pages Jakes is able to give us a future world, somewhat believable power dynamics among the parties, a few good villains, and a climactic battle that manages to take up a good chunk of the text. Kristin, despite being Dragonard’s main love interest, is absent for much of the novel, but to compensate his growing admiration for Jeremy and budding affection for Bel are given ample room to develop. The trio’s tenuous but promising relationship at the end of the novel is undermined, however, by the fact that when we did get a follow-up to When the Star Kings Die it was not a sequel, but instead a distant prequel.
This novel does a few things well, but not exceptionally well; and, let’s face it, we’ve been here before. It’s fine, but nothing special.
Jakes’s ode to the sword-and-spaceship adventures of yore continues with The Planet Wizard, published just this year, although given that it’s about the same length as When the Star Kings Die I’m still a bit surprised it was not released as one half of an Ace Double. The Planet Wizard has a more focused narrative, and more than its predecessor it heavily uses the fantasy elements of the pulp material it’s clearly taking cues from; but even so it feels less like a full novel (certainly now that we have behemoths like Dune and Stand on Zanzibar in the field) and more like a somewhat constipated novella. I very much enjoy novellas myself, but not so much when they look bloated and could use a laxative.
Say goodbye to all the characters from that first novel, since here we’re jumping back over a thousand years in time; conversely all the characters featured in The Planet Wizard will have been long and safely dead by the time we get to When the Star Kings Die. Some cataclysmic event has pushed civilization across planets almost back to medieval times, with the planet Pastora having only a semblance of civilized humanity, with its sister planet Lightmark faring even worse. Superstition has taken over the minds of the masses. Swords and daggers have replaced firearms. Instead of spaceships we have “skysleds.” Magus Blackclaw (another name I did not just pull out of a hat) is a middle-aged “wizard” who lives with his beautiful daughter Maya. The problem is that Magus isn’t really a wizard, for magic doesn’t really exist in this world. Whilst on the run the two cross paths with a tenacious swordsman named Robin Dragonard, who as you may guess is an ancestor of the Maxmillion Dragonard of the first novel. Magus gets captured and put on trial, as a fraud; but the High Governors, the pseudo-Christian religious leaders of Pastora, have a proposition for Magus: go to Lightmark and rediscover the fallen commercial house of Easkod, and maybe these charges will be dropped.
Not only does Magus have to deal with the “Brothers” of Easkod, a league of mutated and vicious humans who watch over Easkod City, but the job to exorcize Easkod of its “demons” quickly turns into a race. Philosopher Arko Lantzman wants his hands on Easkod as an alleged treasury of technology that got lost after the cataclysm, while William Catto, a descendant of one of Easkod’s higher-ups (so he claims), wishes to return the house to its former glory. Given that this is a prequel to When the Star Kings Die, and thus knowing the basic history of the star kings themselves, you can guess the broad trajectory of The Planet Wizard. Given also that Robin (who sadly lacks the charisma of his descendant) will contribute to a bloodline that persists over a thousand years later, it’s safe to guess as to his fate. What keeps the tension alive is that unlike some prequels, wherein we already know the fates of the cast (a kind of dramatic irony granted to the reader), we’re unsure if Magus and Maya will come out of this ordeal unscathed. While Robin is a flatter character than Maxmillion, Magus is a rather fun protagonist, being a middle-aged confidence man who nonetheless does care deeply for his daughter, and goes above and beyond to rescue her when she inevitably gets kidnapped.
In a sense The Planet Wizard complements its predecessor, and I’m not sure if Jakes intended one to be the other’s both opposite and equal. Not better, nor worse, but at least different enough to not feel like a repeat. I do recommend both—if you can find copies below the retail price.
Three stars.
by Victoria Silverwolf
Initial Response
Two rip-roaring novels of space adventure fell into my hands recently, both by authors who use two initials instead of first and middle names. (Yes, I notice trivia like that.) Let's take a look.
Prolific British writer Edwin Charles Tubb (E. C. to you!) has been reviewed several times by Galactic Journeyers, including your not-so-humble servant. He usually earns three stars, once in a while a bit more. Will his latest novel earn him another C or C+ on his report card?
Wordiest cover I've ever seen. Pardon the lousy image.
I must have held the cameras at a bad angle.
A project to launch the first starship is under way, funded by the American government. What the boys and girls in Washington D. C. don't realize is that the folks behind the project believe that humanity is doomed to be wiped out by radioactivity. (There are hints that there have been a few limited nuclear wars, as well as a lot of atomic tests.) They plan to escape and find a world to colonize.
Meanwhile, a would-be dictator and his followers plan to stop the starship, by force if necessary. Don't worry about this subplot, because the vessel manages to leave Earth very early in the book, not without a lot of bloodshed.
(This brings up an odd thing about the book. The protagonists are just about as bloodthirsty as the antagonists. They're ready to destroy an entire community in order to launch the starship. Besides that, a lot of the folks aboard were literally kidnapped, forced to be colonists against their will.)
Pretty soon the escapees find a livable planet, which they name (with heavy irony) Eden. In addition to huge, deadly animals, the place has something in the atmosphere that ensures that any woman giving birth and her child will die.
The book has still barely started. A lot more goes on. There's an attempt at mutiny. There's the mysterious disappearance of the first probe to land on the planet, and its equally mysterious reappearance.
The author throws a lot at the reader, often at random. Some subplots don't lead anywhere. For example, we've got an attempt to activate the brain of a dead scientist in order to extract his knowledge. This is just dropped, and doesn't change anything. The whole thing reads as if it were written as quickly as possible, with a completely improvised plot.
American writer C. C. MacApp also has a fast hand at the typewriter, often showing up in If. He's been reviewed a lot here, generally getting three stars. Sometimes less, sometimes more. (Sounds a lot like Tubb, doesn't he?) Will his latest novel be below average, above average, or just plain average?
Cover art by John Berkey.
Wait a minute! I hear you cry. I thought we were talking about MacApp, not this Capps person!
Yep. C. C. MacApp is actually Carroll Mather Capps in real life. If you'll open the book, you'll see it's been copyrighted in the name of C. C. MacApp. Don't ask me why his real name is on the cover.
Anyway, our hero is an Earthman who caught an alien disease somewhere in space. Before killing him, it's going to make him blind. The good news is that some friendly, semi-humanoid aliens are willing to take him to a place where he can be cured, if he undertakes a mission for them. (The aliens recently arrived in the solar system and have the knowledge of faster-than-light travel, but haven't let humans in on the secret.)
His mission is to track down a renegade alien who kidnapped an alien scientist and stole a powerful piece of ancient technology from a species of extraterrestrials who vanished long ago. In order to do this, the aliens take him to a planet without a sun (hence the title) which is able to support life due to its internal heat.
His contact is a multi-tentacled space pirate with two snake-like heads. This roguish character takes him to a hospital, where a spider-like surgeon operates on his eyes.
Wouldn't you know it? There's a catch. The pirate blackmailed the surgeon into doing something to our hero's eyes so that he needs routine treatment with a certain chemical in order to keep his vision. As a side effect, the operation gave him the ability to see clearly in almost total darkness, even able to perceive radiation. This makes him a very useful tool of the pirate on this planet without natural illumination except starlight.
The guy goes along with the pirate, while also spying on him. Meanwhile, the local inhabitants of the planet spy on both him and the pirate. (There's a lot of spying in this book.) The renegade alien and the kidnapped victim show up, as well as other aliens intent on conquest.
I've only given you a synopsis of maybe half the novel. There are plenty of complications in store. The hero winds up on yet another planet, and finds out about the ancient vanished aliens.
The main difference between Tubb's book and this one is that McApp's is much more tightly plotted. There aren't any pointless subplots. As a bonus, the octopus-like pirate is an enjoyable character, usually several steps ahead of the hero. Not the most profound story ever told, but competent entertainment.
The Palace of Eternity is the first of Bob Shaw’s works that I’ve read. Shaw is a man of many talents, having worn a myriad of hats from taxi-driver to structural engineer and aircraft designer. He has added writing fiction to his repertoire with works such as The Two Timers, Night Walk, and his breakout short story, "Light of Other Days."
The Palace of Eternity is set in a distant and turbulent future where humanity has discovered FTL space travel, taken to the stars, and struggles to weather the onslaught of violent attacks from an alien species known as the Pythsyccans.
The protagonist, Mack Tavernor, is a battle-hardened former soldier who had been orphaned when the Pythsyccans devastated his childhood home. Naturally, Tavernor doesn’t view the Pythsyccans in a positive light but he also seems disillusioned enough with humanity to keep his own kind at arm’s length.
The Pythsyccans attack Mnemosyne, an idyllic, almost utopian world dubbed a haven for writers, artists, and other creators of varied talents. Tavernor, naturally, takes up arms against the invading enemy and dies in battle. This is where the story takes an interesting turn.
After shucking this mortal coil, Tavernor encounters the egons, a non-corporeal race of cosmic beings whose very existence is threatened by the proliferation of humanity’s FTL-ramjet technology, the Butterfly Ships. Tavernor, the newest egon, gets another lease on life, inhabiting the body of a newborn human child named Hal. The goal of his mission, to somehow interfere in the war between the humans and Pythsyccans in order to save the endangered egons.
The Palace of Eternity is a fantastic and eloquently written and fast-paced story that fires on all pistons where the things about science fiction that excite me are concerned. And yet…somehow, though, this book failed to move me. For all its eloquence and imaginativeness, I found myself unable to feel strongly about the characters and events of this story. It failed to fill me with a sense of wonder, even amidst the wondrous imagery. At first, I couldn’t put my finger on why.
It wasn’t just that much of the story felt glossed over—and probably should have been explored in greater detail. My main source of dissatisfaction was with the story’s main character’s development.
Mack Tavernor is admirable. He's truly a man's man in all the ways a man ought to be a man. Yet, I could not bring myself to either like or dislike him. At no point did I become emotionally invested in the things that happened to and around him. In short, as a protagonist, Mack falls flat. Lacking the kind of depth and complexity that makes fictional characters feel real in my mind, he is like soda pop that has lost its fizz.
Had Mr. Shaw given The Palace of Eternity the extent of thought and care it deserved, the book could have turned out to be a true phenomenon. It is, indeed, still an excellent and worthy read. Even so, I feel it's almost a tragic waste of the author's very clear intellect and truly wondrous imagination.
This is my first encounter with the fiction of the British cosmologist Fred Hoyle. A prominent astronomer with a long tenure at the Institute of Astronomy in Cambridge, Hoyle is perhaps best known for a slew of rather controversial opinions. For instance, Dr. Hoyle has rejected the idea of the Big Bang, and for many years has promoted the idea that life on Earth began in the stars.
Yes, he is an eccentric, but Dr. Hoyle is quite a genius, really; a thoroughly unique figure and someone I would really enjoy meeting.
Dr. Hoyle is also a prominent science fiction writer. In collaboration with his son Geoffrey, he recently authored Rockets in Ursa Major, a thoroughly entertaining, if too brief, science fiction yarn reminiscent of the sort of thing which John W. Campbell might have published. If your kind of space fiction involves brilliant and fearless scientists battling bueaucracy and evil aliens, Rockets in Ursa Major is your kind of book.
I kind of giggled a bit when I realized the main characterof Ursa Major is a deeply accomplished and slightly eccentric scientist and that the book is told in first person – do you look in the mirror a bit too much, Dr. Hoyle? As the story begins, the genius Dr. Richard Warboys is at a very boring professional conference when surprising news pops up on the telly: a spaceship which has been lost for thirty years has suddenly reappeared, streaming towards Earth’s atmosphere.
Only a brilliant scientist can help the ship land! And only a brilliant scientist can help discover the ship's great secret of invading alien species! And only a brilliant scientist can fly a seeming suicide mission to battle those invaders! And only a brilliant scientist can figure out a complicated way to use solar flares to defeat those invaders! And, you guessed it, only a brilliant scientist can then fly towards the sun, release those solar flares and save our planet.
Are you shocked if I tell you that scientist's name is Dr. Dick Warboys?
So, yes, the plot of Rockets in Ursa Major is pure wish fulfillment: the 54-year-old Dr. Hoyle cast a genius scientist aged in his mid-30s as the man who basically singlehandedly saves Earth. And it’s all rather silly.
Dr. Hoyle
But Rockets is all tremendously fun, too, in that marvelously light-hearted way one might imagine Campbell publishing next to a Heinlein juvie or van Vogt brain-twister. I’m not sure if it’s the influence of the younger Mr. Hoyle the author, but this book moves at a kinetic speed, with almost too many twists and turns in its breathless style (I’m not sure why we needed a sequence in which Dr. Warboys breaks into the research college by stealing a boat and running through tunnels, for instance).
At the end of this book, the Hoyles hint at the possibility of a sequel. I would enjoy another thoroughly light-hearted and thoroughly indulgent visit with Dr. Warboys.
John Brunner is one of the most prolific science fiction authors of the latter half of this decade, to the extent that it sometimes feels hard to keep up with his work. I’ve always enjoyed Brunner’s work, which often manages to tread a fine line between smart concepts and exciting action. And I was a huge fan of his grand step into literary science fiction, the remarkable Stand on Zanzibar.
This month sees the release of a new Brunner, called Timescoop, but the zines are already reporting the autumn '69 release of another Brunner novel, called The Jagged Orbit [Actually, it's already been released—the Autumn release is a re-release (ed.)]. Based on the blurbs, Orbit sounds like another book of strong literary ambitions.
Timescoop, however, is not a novel of strong literary ambitions. It’s a goof, a novel in which Brunner played with some clever ideas and delivered a quick little satirical piece. Timescoop clears the palette between works of deep seriousness.
Our protagonist here is one Harold Freitas III, a self-obsessed inheritor of his family’s fortunes who is looking to live up to the legacy his father, recently deceased, has left to him.
Fortunately for Freitas, an amazing invention called the Timescoop has been invented, and he has control of it. The Timescoop can bring anything forward in time and allow it to live in the book’s present. Thus the Venus de Milo and Hermes of Praxiteles can exist – with their original arms – and so can people.
Imagine the Hermes – with arms – in a private house near you!
Looking to make a mark with publicity, Freitas brings forward nine of his ancestors in time and brings them to a family reunion broadcast throughout the galaxy. After all, men of the past were men of great virtue and character and the future world can learn from their insights. But… as one character states prophetically… “How much do we really know about these people? One always looks at the past through rose-colored –"
So Freitas brings forward nine of his ancestors – a steadfast medieval king and a medieval Crusader and a 17th century British merchant and a fire-and-brimstone preacher and a female cowboy, among others – and readies them to face the world and make Freitas famous.
But be careful what you wish for, and especially be careful what you create. Because these ancestors are not the good people Freitas wishes they could be. They are pederasts and nymphomaniacs, gluttons who are covered with filth and who have ancient racist attitudes. One even indulged in the slave trade.
Mr Brunner
Most of this is played for laughs, and it’s easy to imagine someone like Peter Sellers or Alec Guiness playing all the roles in a film adaptation, taking on silly voices while someone like Peter Cook keeps rolling his eyes at the chaos.
But there is also a small element of satire, a small joy at bringing down the rich and pompous and allowing their obsessions to blow up in their faces.
Timescoop is another quick little novel, and at a mere 156 pages it doesn’t wear out its welcome. But this is clearly Brunner relaxing and doing a small warmup for his next literary work.
In my first conversations with the Traveller, I was warned that some of the works I would cover here would be unpleasant. This is my first, and it does not even have the decency to be memorably terrible (Ole Doc Methuselah by L. Ron Hubbard), or bland yet competent (One Against Herculeum by Jerry Sohl). Light A Last Candle is knockoff Heinlein, wrapped in knockoff Doc Smith and shot through with attempts at imitating Bester.
Our main character is one of the few remaining humans on a planet. There’s “Mods” — modified humans — which our main character doesn’t like. Like a low-energy Gully Foyle, he doesn’t like anyone or anything very much. He doesn’t have a name, our main character, nor does “the girl”. She’s lucky, as all other female figures are called Breeders. The character our main character can stand the most is an old, fatherly figure simply referred to as Rutherford. They are the only two original humans, Free Men, left on the planet, which is mostly under the mind control of the Aliens, and their Mod slaves…or are they?
Social commentary is attempted, as are twists, and like in The Devil’s Own by Nora Lofts, the revelations provided to the reader are ultimately shallow. The more they appear, the more insignificant they are revealed to be. The Devil’s Own is in fact a rather poor comparison; since that is a fine book. In truth, the story Light A Last Candle most reminds me of is Cat-Women of the Moon (1953), with its clunky twists, bland characterization, pervasive male chauvinism, and failing to convey travel in a story that is ostensibly all about traveling. Distance is compressed like an accordion, details are skipped over, days pass offhandedly when we could be learning more about anything we are reading. This ultimately becomes a paucity of both showing and telling, which certainly is new to me. Like Star Man’s Son by Andre Norton, the book centers around bringing the reader to encounter different cultures in this alien future. Like The Weirdstone of Brisigamen by Alan Garner, that travel also takes place in tight, dangerous caves. In both of those books, however, distance and time were characters in themselves. You felt the pressure of travel, the hard work the characters put in, their sense of purpose.
The only talent that really appears throughout the work is a pervasive sense of disgust, of fleshy horror that I know William Hope Hodgeson in The Derelict and Arthur Machen in The Three Imposters did better sixty years ago. I think it's this author's first book, but his grouchiness is beyond his years.
I am writing this review as quickly as possible, because after finishing this book less than a half an hour ago, it is rapidly leaving my mind. I have filled this page with references to other works, so that the reader may enjoy books much better than this one.
We've got a whopping ten titles for you to enjoy this month. Part of it is the increased pace of paperback production. Part is the increased number of Journey reviewers on staff! Enjoy:
From the author of Stand on Zanzibar, and also a lot of churned-out mediocrity, comes this mid-length novel. Can it reach the sublimity of last year's masterpiece, or is it a rent-payer? Let's see.
The band "Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition" (great name, that) have a bit of a Be-in on a deserted beach south of London. Their frivolity is marred by the appearance of a flight-suited zombie, half his face eaten away.
Strange happenings compound: the lushy Mrs. Beedle, who lives in a wreck of a home by the beach, suddenly starts appearing in two places at once. Those who encounter her find themselves doused with some kind of acid. Meanwhile, Rory, a DJ on the pirate radio ship Jolly Roger, hauls up a fish on his line that transforms halfway into a squid before breaking free.
The local constabulary, as well as the scientific types in the vicinity, are increasingly alarmed and then mobilized, as the true nature of what they're dealing with is determined: an alien or mutated being with the power to digest and mimic anything it encounters.
In premise, it's thus somewhat akin to Don A. Stuart's (John W. Campbell Jr.) seminal "Who Goes There". In execution, it's not. The rather thin story is developed glacially, with lots of slice-of-life scenes that are not unpleasant to read, but don't add much. Indeed, one could argue that it is possible to unbalance things too far in the direction of "show, don't tell"—Double, Double is written almost like a screenplay, with endless little cliff-hangers, and always from the point of view of the various characters.
Beyond the writing, the premise is fundamentally flawed: digestion is never 100% efficient. Heck, I don't think it's 10% efficient. And this creature can not only digest but duplicate, down to memories? Color me unconvinced. Also, we are lucky that it chose to come to land as quickly as it did—if it had just stayed in the sea, all of the sea life in the world would have been these… things… in very short order.
All told, this is definitely a piece written for the cash grab, perhaps even a recycled, rejected script for the TV anthology Journey to the Unknown. It's not a bad piece of writing, but I'll be donating it to my local book shop when I'm done.
Three stars.
by Brian Collins
For my first book reviews as part of the Journey, I got some SF and fantasy in equal measure. Neither are really worth it, but here we can see the difference between a deeply flawed novel and one that is virtually impossible to salvage.
I know it’s only been a few months since Piers Anthony hit us with his second novel, Sos the Rope, but he has already given us another with Omnivore. That’s three novels in two years! For all his faults, you can’t say he’s lazy. It’s quite possible that in thirty years there will be more Piers Anthony novels than there are stars in the sky.
Omnivore is a planetary adventure, not dissimilar from what Hal Clement or Poul Anderson would write, but with some of those “lovable” Anthony quirks. Here’s the gist: A superhuman agent named Subble is sent to investigate three explorers who have returned to Earth from the “dangerous but promising” planet Nacre, each with his/her trauma and secrets as to what happened. Why did eighteen people die while exploring Nacre prior to these three, and what did they bring back with them? There’s Veg, who as his nickname suggests is a vegetarian; Aquilon, an emotionally fraught woman who now has a case of shell shock; and Cal, gifted with a brilliant intellect but cursed with a frail body. Veg and Cal love Aquilon and Aquilon loves both men. Romantic tension ensues. Anthony pulled a similar love triangle in Sos the Rope, but for what it's worth this one is not quite as painful.
Nacre itself is the star of the show, and it would not surprise me if Anthony were to return to this setting in the future. It’s a fungus-rich planet in which the land is covered in an unfathomable amount of “dust”—spores from airborne fungi. There’s so much airborne fungi, in fact, that the sun has been more or less blocked out, and the animal life has adapted not only to low-light conditions but to move about with only one (big) eye and one limb. Clement would have surely treated this material with more scientific enthusiasm, but Clement sadly is no longer producing his best work and this novel is a serviceable substitute for the not-too-discerning.
Omnivore is Anthony’s best novel to date; unfortunately it’s still not good. There are two crippling problems here. The first is that Anthony simply cannot help himself when it comes to writing women unsympathetically, and the first section of the novel (there are four, each focusing on a different character) is the worst. Veg, while heroic, is unfortunately a woman-hater. I don’t necessarily have an issue with characters having unsavory flaws, but the problem is that this dim view of women bleeds into the rest of the novel to some degree. It should come as no surprise that Aquilon, the sole female character, is also the only one driven purely by emotions as opposed to intellect. Subble himself may as well be a robot, but Anthony writes him as a human so that he can a) take drugs, and b) seduce Aquilon.
The second is that it’s clear that this novel is About Things, but I can’t figure out what those Things could be. There is obvious symbolism at work. The trio of explorers play off of elements (herbivore/carnivore/omnivore, brains/brawn/beauty, and so on), but I’m not sure what statement is being made here. This is especially glaring in a year where we got many SF novels that are About Things; indeed 1968 might’ve been the year of SF novels that try to say Something Very Important. Omnivore might’ve been fine in the hands of a Clement or Anderson, but rather than be true to itself (an Analog-style adventure yarn), it has delusions of importance. It doesn’t help that Anthony gives us a puzzle narrative, but then takes seemingly forever to tell us what the puzzle actually is. The solution, thus, is unsatisfying.
At the rate he’s progressing, Anthony may be able to pen a decent novel in another few years. Two out of five stars, maybe three if it had caught me in a very forgiving mood.
Swordmen of Vistar, by Charles Nuetzel
Cover by Albert Nuetzell
Now we have the latest in what's proving to be an avalanche of heroic fantasy releases, and this one is simply painful to read. We know something is amiss just from looking at the title; to my recollection Nuetzel never used "swordman" or "swordmen" in the novel itself, which leads me to wonder what he could've been thinking. The writing between the covers is no less clumsy.
Thoris is a galley slave, in an ancient world not far off from the mythical Greece of Perseus and Pegasus, when he and the princess Illa find themselves possibly the only survivors of a shipwreck. Thoris falls in love with Illa before the two have even had a full conversation together. They first arrive at an island of cannibals before escaping, only to fall into the clutches of the tyrannical Lord Waja and his sword(s)men of Vistar. Also imprisoned is the wizard Xalla, who is father to a woman named Opil whom Thoris had saved earlier. With no other options, Thoris makes a deal with Xalla to vanquish Waja and then free the wizard—on the ultimate condition that Thoris also take Opil as his bride.
The back cover compares Thoris to Conan the Cimmerian and John Carter of Mars, and indeed Swordmen of Vistar is supposed to be a rip-roaring adventure with a damsel in distress, a morally ambiguous wizard, and a giant snake. One problem: the prose is some of the most ungainly I've ever laid eyes on. Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert E. Howard were not tender in their use of the English language, but they had a real knack for plotting which Nuetzel lacks. This is a 220-page novel and surprisingly little happens in it. I hope you still like love triangles, because this novel also has one. Lord Waja and his top henchmen are defeated by the end of the eleventh chapter, but we still have two more to go with Opil as the final obstacle. We need to pad out this already-short book, obviously.
With how much I've been reading about love triangles, I think God may be telling me to try acquiring a second girlfriend. If I were Thoris I would be stuck with a tough choice. Do I pick the tough-minded woman who clearly appreciates my swordsmanship, or the haughty princess who's been degrading me for much of the novel? Sure, the former threatens to kill me if I refuse her, but nobody's perfect.
By the way, Nuetzel may be excusing the awkward prose by stating in the preface that the Thoris narrative is a translation of an ancient manuscript that some academic had written up and given to him. Unfortunately academics, by and large, are terrible writers with no ear for English, and this shows in the "translation." It doesn't help that yes, this is derivative of the John Carter novels, along with a few other things; and while Robert E. Howard's Conan stories are often About Something, Nuetzel doesn't really have anything to say. If you've read hackwork in this genre then the good news is that you've already read Swordmen of Vistar, and so can save yourself the trouble of buying a copy.
Basically worthless, although the illustrations (courtesy of Albert Nuetzell) are at least decent. One out of five stars.
Bill Jarrett is a galactic adventurer, a man who spans the stars to find excitement, glory and money. He’s a flirt and a fighter and the kind of guy who can work himself out of situations. But when Jarrett gets abducted, has a mind-controlling creature strapped to his head, and is sent to overthrow a man who he’s told is a dictator, Jarrett finds himself in a situation he might not be able to win.
Well, yeah, of course, Jarrett does end up winning in the situation he finds himself in, with the help of his friends and a few mechanical contrivances. Because of course he does. As a galactic adventurer, that’s what you might expect from him.
The Star Venturers is an entertaining Ace novel, a quickie star-spanner with a handful of ideas which might stick to your brain. Author Kenneth Bulmer occasionally throws in a small element of satire or self-awareness which enlivens the plot; there’s a bit of a feeling of the author kind of winking at us as he tells this story. But there’s not nearly enough of that stuff to make this book stand out.
Bulmer does play a bit with an interesting concept, the sort of self-learning machine, a kind of artificially intelligent creature called a frug (which Jarrett nicknames Ferdie the Frug) which is placed on a person’s forehead like a headband and which compels the person to follow orders lest they feel horrific agony.
Mr. Bulmer with his wife Pamela
Bulmer takes pains to imply that the device is both mechanical and semi-sentient, a kind of uncaring vicious machine which Jarrett sometimes reasons with and almost treats like a pet – if the pet was a giant tumor which could only cause pain, that is. This idea of artificial intelligence dates back at least to the first robot stories, but the author gives the idea a fresh coat of paint here, and that concept is a real highlight for me.
Other than that, this is a pretty basic space fantasy Ace novel, which is entertaining for its two hour reading time but which will have you quickly flipping over to read the novel by Dean Koontz on the other side. At least it’s not About Things or Very Important. Instead The Star Venturers is just forgettable.
On the other hand, the flip side of this Ace Double is pretty memorable. Dean R. Koontz, an author new to me, has delivered a fascinating satire of a world which is easy to imagine and just as easy to dread.
In the near future, post apocalyptic America, television rules our world. All the people in America live for a special show which all can experience viscerally. That TV show, called The Show, has seven hundred million subscribers. Those subscribers watch a continuing story, kind of a soap opera, about the characters on the screen. But they don't just watch the characters, they also feel the same emotions as the characters. They feel empathy and pain for the characters. In a real way the characters and viewers are bonded.
Because the actors are so well known, so much a part of their audience's lives, even the act of replacing an actor can be tremendously fraught with stress and worry. The act of leaving The Show can be freeing but also terrifying. And when lead actor Mike Jorgova leaves The Show, it makes his life much more complicated. He becomes untethered, is trained to become part of a revolution, and discovers the deeper frightening truths behind a world he scarcely understood.
Young author Dean Koontz delivers a clever and exciting story which shows tremendous potential. He does an excellent job of creating his world in relatively few words, delivering character in just a few broad strokes and creating memorable villains and settings. The end action set-piece, for instance, is built with real suspense and ends with a thrilling struggle which is filled with energy.
Dean Koontz
Along with that aspect, young Mr. Koontz delivers two more elements which separate this book from many of its peers.
First, he paints a fascinating future which seems like a smart extension of McLuhan's concept that "the medium is the message." Koontz creates a TV show which feels like reality, in which the characters live in some semblance of real life while engaging in exaggerated, bizarre actions. That's a concept which feels all the more possible these days, with controversies about the Smothers Brothers and Vietnam dominating headlines about television in 1969.
Koontz also delivers a series of philosophical asides which discuss human evolution from village to society and the ways mass media both shrinks the world and expands our horizons. Nowadays we know everything about people who live across the world but nothing about the people who live next door to us, and that gap only promises to get wider. As our social networks grow, the strengths of our connections only shrink.
This is heady stuff for an Ace Double – and I've only touched on a few of the many ideas shared almost to overflowing here. In fact, the book is chockablock full of ideas but the ambition is a bit high for their achievement. Like many a new author, Koontz has many, many ideas he wants to explore but there are a few too many on display. Nevertheless, despite its thematic density, The Fall of the Dream Machine reads like a rocketship, hurtling ahead until it lands gracefully, sharing a thrilling journey for the readers.
Keep your eye on Mr. Koontz. I predict great things from him.
Poetry has always had a strange place in science fiction. Long before appearing in Hugo Gernsbeck’s magazines, poets have been attempting to explore fantastic themes. However, in spite of their regular presence in almost every SFF periodical, and many fanzines, they rarely seemed to be talked about, nor are they represented in either the Nebulas or the Hugos (although we here give out Galactic Stars to them).
Enter John Fairfax and Panther publishing, who have put together this anthology of responses to the space age. The selection inside is varied. Some are original and some are reprints. Some are SFnal, some are fantastical, others closer to reality. And, as the editor puts it:
Some poets are optimistic about the space odyssey, others view it with cynicism…and other poets do not care if man steps into space or the nearest bar so long as human relations begin with fornication and end with death.
As this book contains almost 50 separate pieces, I cannot hope to cover them all here; rather I want to give an overview and highlight some of the best.
Possibly due to my natural cynicism, Leslie Norris’ poems were among my favorites. He is willing to engage deeply with the future, but believes the same problems we have down here will continue there. For example, in Space Miner we hear of the fate of those travelling to distant worlds for such a job:
He had worked deep seams where encrusted ore,
Too hard for his diamond drill, had ripped
Strips from his flesh. Dust from a thousand metals
Stilted his lungs and softened the strength of his
Muscles. He had worked the treasuries of many
Near stars, but now he stood on the moving
pavement reserved for cripples who had served well.
Just a small part of one of his moving poems that raise interesting questions about where we are headed.
Closely related is John Moat’s Overture I. His works concentrate less on the science fiction but still wonder if we are heading in the right direction:
That twelve years’ Jane pacing outside the bar,
Offering anything for her weekly share
Of tea; those rats now grown immune to death –
I ask you, in whose name and by what power
Have you set out to colonize the stars?
This is only an extract and continues in that fashion. It ponders if what we are bringing to other planets is something they would care for.
Not all are so negative. Some, instead, write about the wonder and artistic possibilities of space travel. Robert Conquest (who SF fans may know from his anthologies or short fiction in Analog) produces a Stapledon-esque epic among the stars in Far Out:
While each colour and flow
Psychedelicists know
As Ion effects
Quotidian sights
Of those counterflared nights.
Yet Conquest still asks within, what is the value of these views to the artist? A complex piece for sure.
There are probably only two other names you have a reasonable chance of recognizing inside: D. M. Thomas and Peter Redgrove, both for their occasional appearances in the British Mags. As you might expect these are among the most explicitly science fictional. For example, in Limbo Thomas gives us a kind of verse version of The Cold Equations, whilst Redgrove’s pieces are trains of thoughts of two common character types of SFF.
However, it should not be thought others have written repetitively on the theme. These poems include such diverse topics as the difficulties of copulation in space, how to serve tea on a space liner, the first computer to be made an Anglican bishop, and explorers getting absorbed into a gestalt entity.
The biggest disappointment for me are the poems from the editor. It is to be expected Fairfax would have a number of pieces inside but, unfortunately, they are among the most pedestrian. For example, his Space Walk:
Around, around in freefall thought
The clinging cosmo-astronaut,
Awkward and expensive star
Dogpaddles from his spinning car.
The poem has nothing inherently wrong with it, but it does not feel insightful, nor does it do anything experimental. It more feels like what would win a middle-school poetry competition on the Space Race. Probably deserving of a low three stars but little more.
I feel, at least in passing, I need to point out we have the recurring problem of the British scene. In spite of the number of poems contained within, none of the poets appears to be woman. There are no shortage of women poets, either in the mainstream or within the fanzines, so I find it hard to believe there were no good pieces available. Hopefully, this can be remedied in a future volume. The Second Frontier, perhaps?
Either way, this is still a fabulous collection. Of course, it will not be for everyone. Poetry is probably the most subjective form of literature, and not everyone likes to sit down to read more than forty poems in a row. However, the selection here is a cut above what we tend to see from our regular science fiction writers (looking at you, de Camp and Carter) and I hope it helps raise the form to higher standards and recognition.
Four Stars for the whole anthology with a liberal sprinkling of fives for the poems I have called out.
Four new novels suggest the seasons, at least for those of us living in the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere. Let's start with the traditional beginning of the year, as opposed to our modern January.
Cover art by Margery Gill, who also supplies several interior illustrations.
The first thing you see when you open the book is musical notation. The melody is said to be a very old French tune, and it plays a major part in the plot.
Those of you who can read music may be able to whistle along with the boy.
Christina, known as Kirsty, is a schoolgirl whose mother died a while ago. Her father remarried, this time to a much younger woman. Like many stepchildren, Kirsty resents her.
An opportunity to escape the awkward situation for a while comes when Kirsty gets a job picking fruit in Norfolk. She moves away from her home in Suffolk and lives with a kindly elderly couple.
Strange things start to happen when she hears music coming from an empty room next to her attic bedroom. She meets a local boy who experienced amnesia and sleepwalking when he stayed in the house. More alarmingly, he almost drowned when he walked toward the sea in a trance.
In addition to this mystery, which involves the supernatural, there are multiple subplots. Kirsty has to learn to get along with her young stepmother. A schoolfriend has no father, an alcoholic mother, smokes, admits to having tried marijuana, and is later arrested for shoplifting. One of her two young brothers suffers an accident.
Despite all this going on, and a dramatic climax, the novel is rather leisurely. The author captures the voice of her young narrator convincingly, and never writes down to her readers. There's a love story involved, and the book might be thought of as a Gothic Romance for teenage girls. In addition to this target audience, adults and even boys are likely to get some pleasure from it.
Two young men are hiking when they get lost in a storm. They wind up in a tiny village with only a handful of people living there. It seems that a dam under construction is going to flood the place, so most folks have moved out.
They spend the night in the home of an elderly couple whose son was killed in World War Two. (That may not seem relevant, but it plays a part in the plot.) The other inhabitants of the doomed village are an ex-military man, his adult son and daughter, a somewhat shady fellow, and the former showgirl who lives with him.
Things get weird when this quiet English village develops a tropical climate overnight. Bizarre plants, some like hot air balloons and some like birds, show up. The surrounding countryside changes into a land of earthquakes and volcanoes. What the heck happened?
We soon find out that people from a time thousands of years from now use time travel to transport folks hundreds of thousands of years into the future. Why? Because the future people face an all-encompassing disaster, and want to start human life all over again in the extreme far future.
(They only select folks in the past who were going to be wiped out of history anyway. The village was just about to be buried under a huge landslide, leaving no evidence behind.)
The rest of the book shows our reluctant time travelers exploring, figuring out a way to survive, and fighting among themselves. The two young women pair up with a couple of the men, but not in the way you might expect.
Near the end, the plot turns into a murder mystery, which seems a little odd. The conclusion is something of a deus ex machina. Otherwise, it's an OK read. The characters are interesting.
Fall is a time of nostalgia and anticipation. We gaze at the past, and ponder the future. Our next book features a lead character who has a lot to look back on, and plenty to concern him coming up.
The book takes its title from a famous painting by 19th century Swiss artist Arnold Böcklin.
The artist created several versions of the work. This is one of them.
Francis Sandow, our narrator, started off as a man of our own time. (There are hints that he fought in Vietnam, or at least somewhere in Southeast Asia.) He went on to travel on starships in a state of suspended animation, so he is still alive many centuries from now. In fact, he's one of the wealthiest people in the galaxy.
(Some of this is deduction on my part. The narrator only offers bits and pieces of his life throughout the text. The same might be said about the book's complex background. The author makes the reader work.)
Francis made his fortune by creating planets as an art form. If that isn't god-like enough for you, he's also an avatar of an alien deity, one of many in their pantheon. It's unclear if this is a manifestation of psychic power or a genuine case of possession. The mixing of religion and science in an ambiguous fashion is reminiscent of the Zelazny's previous novel Lord of Light.
Somebody sends Francis new photographs of friends, enemies, lovers, and a wife, all of whom have been dead for a very long time. He also gets a message from an ex-lover (still alive) stating that she is in serious trouble.
This sets him off on an odyssey to multiple planets, as he tracks down an unknown enemy. Along the way, he participates in the death ritual of his alien mentor. The climax takes place on the Isle of the Dead, a place he created on one of his planets as a deliberate imitation of Böcklin's painting.
The bare bones of the plot fail to convey the exotic mood of the book, or Zelazny's style. His writing is informal at times; in other places, he uses extremely long, flowing sentences you can get lost in.
As I've suggested, this novel requires careful reading. Stuff gets mentioned that you won't understand until later, so be patient. I found it intriguing throughout. If the ending seems a little rushed, that's a minor flaw.
About fifty years before the novel begins, aliens arrived on Earth with what seemed to be benevolent intent. Well, you know what they say about Greeks bearing gifts.
The Kaltichs brought longevity treatments and advanced medical techniques that could replace any damaged organ. The catch is that Earthlings have to pay a high price for these things.
There's also the problem of overpopulation. The Kaltichs promised to give humans the secret of instantaneous transportation to a large number of habitable planets. It's been half a century, and we're still waiting.
Because the longevity treatments have to be renewed every ten years, and the Kaltichs deny them to anybody they don't like, Earthlings are subservient to them. We have to call them sire, and punishment with a special whip that inflicts extreme pain follows any transgression.
Our protagonist, Martin Preston, is a secret agent for S.T.A.R., the Secret Terran Armed Resistance. (I guess we're still not over the spy craze, with its love of acronyms.) The agency asks him to imitate a Kaltich and infiltrate one of their centers, which are off limits to humans.
(I should mention here that the Kaltichs are physically identical to Earthlings. That seems unlikely, but it's a plot point and we get an explanation later.)
Because the previous fellow who tried this had his hands cut off and sent back to S.T.A.R., Martin understandably refuses. An incident occurs that changes his mind. With the help of a brilliant female surgeon (who, like most of the women in a James Bond adventure, is gorgeous and sexually available), he sets out on his dangerous mission.
What follows is imprisonment, torture, escape, killings, double crosses, and the discovery of the big secret of the Kaltichs, which you may anticipate. The book is similar to a Keith Laumer slam bang thriller, if a little more gruesome. Hardly profound, but it sure won't bore you.
Three stars.
There you have it, folks. Take ten and enjoy all the new novels coming out. We'll be back next month to help you figure out which ones to put at the top of the pile.
As such, it was only a matter of time before we got a real hip novel that fully blurs the boundary between fantastic and the psychedelic. Anderson is the one to give it to us.
One Pill Makes You Larger
So, what is this book about? On a basic plot level it is about Chester and Mike (fictionalised versions of the author and his sometimes co-writer) who seem to be sort of hippies living in 1977. They discover people affected by a mysterious new drug called Reality Pills, which cause psychedelic hallucinations to physically appear, such as a kid able to create butterflies and another person with their own halo. They set about tracking down the source of this, which, as the cover gives away, turns out to be extra-terrestrial.
As you can imagine, this gets very surreal quickly. Here is a sample conversation:
“Excuse me,” said another tall blue lobster, making its way to the john.
“One of yours?” I wondered. “I thought it was one yours.”
“I don’t like blue lobsters.”
Your willingness to just go with these kinds of sections without any prelude will likely dictate your enjoyment of the novel.
One Pill Makes You Small
But that, for me, isn’t what the book is really about. Rather, it gives us a window on to a subculture, the lives of dropouts and experimental rock groups in Greenwich Village right now. As I have not been there myself, I cannot speak to the reliability of Anderson’s vision but it is a vivid one imbued with a feeling of time and place, just as clear as if someone was talking to me about Middle Earth Club in London.
That is not to say I understood it all, and New Yorkers may well be able to “dig” more of it than I do, but it feels real and lived in, in a way so much science fiction does not.
And The Ones Your Mother Gives You, Don’t Do Anything At All
There are certain parts that do not work as well for me. It is filled with a lot of references to New York life and pop culture, some of which I understood (e.g. use of an obscure Tolkien simile) but other meanings were totally lost on me.
Perhaps more importantly, I am not certain if it is really “about” anything much. With its style and boundary pushing content, it is clearly aiming more for the literary than Campbell-esque end of the market. But Last Exit To Brooklyn this is not, whilst the current trial for that book’s UK publication hinges on its merits as a great work of literature, I cannot help but feel that argument could not be made in this case. Scenes like the Goddess Fellatia attempting to rape a police officer feel added more for the sake of shock value than any complex point being made.
Remember What The Dormouse Said, “Feed Your Head!”
Having said all that, I believe it still passes Sturgeon’s Law and is better than 90% of science fiction on the market. It is not perfect by any stretch and falls down in a number of areas. But it is still quite a groovy trip to take.
Four Stars
Here are some damning short takes from Kris and Jason–and both involve Lin Carter and Belmont Books!
The Thief of Thoth, by Lin Carter, and …And Others Shall Be Born, by Frank Belknap Long
"Belmont Double? Don't Bother. Dead Boring, Better-off Dreaming!"
"Ugh I just can’t get into this stupid barbarian book. Lin Carter’s writing is so full of stereotypes and clichés. I’ve tried a few times to get through it and can’t. I’m tagging out for this month."
by Gideon Marcus
Ace Double H-40
Here's another shortish take, simply because this Double doesn't merit more:
The first interstellar journey results in horror: of the five crew, only three remain alive. The other two are carriers of an extraterrestrial disease, or perhaps worse–unwitting vessels of an alien invasion.
Someday, someone might write a superb book or series of books about a private investigator who jaunts through the asteroid belt, trying to thwart a Martian plot to weaponize alien technology (in the guise of infected humans) to gain an upper hand against Earth. This one isn't it.
It's not bad, but it's back to the humdrum potboiling that's associated with Tubb (sad, because we know he, and Ace, can do better–viz. The Winds of Gath). Part of the issue is the length; this is really a long novella, and the ending is rushed and pat–probably as a result.
A ruined ship crewed by extra-terrestrials, the last survivor of a devastating planetary conflict, makes a close approach to their alien sun. As its hull chars and the crew and passengers succumb one by one to the heat, their only hope is that their cometary orbit will swing it quickly back for a rendezvous with their doomed world. But when they reach home, they find the doomsday weapons have sunk the two warring continents. All that is left is waves…and survivors on an enemy satellite. Together, they must build a new society, one free from strife.
Great premise! I was certainly hooked. Sadly, that's just the first chapter.
Then there's a jump of two millennia, and the focus is on a human conflict. Earthers have arrived on this alien world, unaware of the planet's history or inhabitants, intending to establish a fueling station. But rivals from Venus, peopled by intellectual exiles from Earth, have made contact with the indigenes. They are putting together an alien/Venusian invasion force to take Earth for their own.
The main body of the text, involving a telepathic sensitive who records experiences for television audiences at home, as well as the panoply of beautiful and topless (but at least capable) women he encounters, reads like a tepid planetary adventure from the '50s, complete with two-page digressions to lovingly describe some new piece of technology.
John Wyndham’s latest novel, Chocky, an expansion of a novelette of the same name published in Amazing Stories in 1963, will be something of a disappointment to fans of the blend of cutting social commentary and dystopian science fiction which has characterised most of his novels to date. It’s much more in the mode of Wyndham’s earlier short fiction, but stretched out to the point where the conceit fails to hold the reader’s attention.
Plotwise, not an awful lot happens. A young boy, Matthew Gore, develops what his father, our point-of-view character, takes to be an imaginary friend, Chocky. It’s fairly apparent to the reader, though not so much to his family and teachers, that Chocky is an alien scout who is investigating the Earth through a telepathic rapport with Matthew. Chocky asks a lot of questions about things like geography, internal combustion engines, and gender; in return Chocky teaches Matthew sophisticated mathematical concepts like binary systems, and is sometimes able to take him over and impart abilities he doesn’t naturally possess. After a couple of incidents where Chocky, working through Matthew, does something which winds up in the national press, the family comes to wider, and possibly more sinister, attention.
And… well, that’s it. The action never gets exciting enough to be a thriller. Matthew and his family are never well-developed enough for this to become a poignant character piece. Details like the fact that Matthew is adopted are introduced but never achieve wider relevance. Matthew’s collection of busybody relatives lurk in the wings as a threat to Chocky’s privacy, but that’s all they remain: a minor complication. There’s very little sense of peril or threat from Chocky as there was from the children in The Midwich Cuckoos; the alien is just here to observe, not to take over. The setup, with a cosy suburban family, suggests that Chocky will upend that cosiness and force their prejudies and banalities into the open, but we’re disappointed on that score too. Wyndham does have some of his usual fun with the foibles of middle-class British society, but he never really twists the knife.
It’s frustrating because this could have been a much more exciting and relevant book. A story in which a little boy’s life is torn apart by scientists and politicians desperate to make first contact with aliens could have been heartrending; a story in which a lonely child’s isolation is used for sinister ends by a non-human being likewise. The first part of the book focuses so heavily on the social pressure Matthew’s parents felt to have children that one thinks this will be one of the themes of the story, however, this isn’t paid off either.
But there’s not much point in speculating about what Chocky could have been. It is what it is—an overextended novelette that promises much but delivers little, and is a disappointment compared to the works which made Wyndham famous. Two out of five stars.
I have lamented for some time that we've been at a nadir of female participation in our peculiar genre. If this month's clutch of books be any indication, that trend is finally reversing, to the benefit (for the most part) of all of us science fiction readers!
by Victoria Silverwolf
Wordplay
Two new science fiction novels arrived this month with one-word titles that don't show up in my dictionary. No doubt that's meant to intrigue the potential reader, and create the sense of strangeness associated with much SF. Let's take a look at them and see if we can figure out what the titles mean.
Sara is a very ordinary young woman, maybe a little less content with her life than most. She considers herself unattractive, and is particularly sensitive about her large nose. She runs off from an unhappy home to take a job in New York City.
While walking through Central Park one night (not a wise thing for an unaccompanied woman to do, I'd think) she is abducted and taken aboard an alien spacecraft. The opening of the novel is a chaos of strange and disturbing sensations, so we don't really figure this out for a while, but it becomes clear later.
In a way that isn't explained until late in the book, she winds up in a
new body. For some time, she's in a dazed, zombie-like condition, only slowly coming to full awareness. The good news is that she's beautiful, with golden skin and a perfect nose. The bad news is that she's enslaved as a sort of nursemaid to a fellow in a mindless state.
Eventually, she figures out that the fellow has been drugged into catatonia by the bad guys. She helps him return to normal by reducing the amount of drugged food he consumes. The two escape from the hospital/prison and a tale of palace intrigue and space opera adventure begins.
The plot gets pretty complicated, and there are lots of characters with odd names, so I got lost at times. (The drugged man's name is Harlan, by the way; a reference to one of the author's fellow writers? Anyway, he's got the only name I've ever seen before, other than the heroine's.)
Suffice to say that Sara is on another planet, although the inhabitants are completely human. Harlan is the Regent for the planet's young Warlord. The bad guys drugged him, faking it as insanity, in order to control the government in his place. Add in aliens that Harlan's people have been fighting for millennia and rival factions for the throne. A further complication is that Sara has to hide the fact that she's a restoree (there's that word!) or she is likely to be killed as an abomination.
Besides all this science fiction stuff, there are a lot of romance novel aspects to the book. The beautiful, virginal heroine and the dark, mysterious hero fall in love, finally consummating their passion in sex scenes that are far from explicit. I also found a fair amount of subtle humor in the novel, as if the author has her tongue firmly in her cheek. What the evil aliens do to the people they capture stirs in a bit of gruesome horror as well.
The characters, for the most part, are either all good or all bad. The only ambiguous one is the brilliant physician who gave Sara her new body, in the forbidden and universally reviled procedure that made her a restoree. (If he hadn't, she would just be dead.) He does seem to be genuinely concerned with healing the afflicted, but he also works with the bad guys.
Kind of a silly book, really, but mildly entertaining if you turn your brain off. It's the author's first published novel, so let's just say that she shows promise.
The explanation for the title is simple enough; Croyd is the hero's name. He has no other, as far as I can tell.
Croyd is some kind of agent for the galactic government. He is also a Van Vogtian superhuman, with a brain that allows him to do things like go back and forth in time. While waiting to hear the details of his latest assignment, he saves a lady in distress from an abusive man.
There's a lot more to the woman than he realizes. It seems that an alien from another galaxy, bent on conquering the inhabitants of the Milky Way, has her mind inside the woman's body. Next thing you know, her mind is inside Croyd's body, and his is inside the woman's.
The woman's mind is still inside her body as well, so she and Croyd share it as they track down the alien who stole Croyd's body. Meanwhile, a gang of beatnik terrorists are planning to send the asteroid Ceres crashing into Nereid, one of Neptune's moons, where there's a government base. The alien in Croyd's body has to deal with this, to convince people that she's really Croyd.
Things get really complicated. There are alien agents among the government staff, with the ability to hypnotize people into turning against humanity. There's another group of aliens that wants to destroy the entire Milky Way rather than conquer it. Both Croyd in the woman's body and the alien in Croyd's body have to fight their nefarious scheme. There's even a second Croyd mind that shows up inside his purloined body. This one is a stupid brute, intent only on animal pleasures.
With all this going on, and characters rushing back and forth in space and time, this is definitely a wild roller coaster ride. I didn't believe any of it for a second. If McCaffrey's book often has the feeling of a stereotypical woman's romance novel, with science fiction trappings, Wallace's frequently seems like a stereotypical men's adventure novel, with the same decorations.
Two stars.
by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall
With the New Wave such a strong force in British science fiction at the moment there is a real blurring of the boundaries of what is speculative and what is literary experimentation.
Science fiction or experimental literature? Which is which?
If they had not come of Science fiction publishers and\or from science fiction authors would we consider Squares of the City, Greybeardor Ballard’s cut-up tales to be speculative? By the same token if Fowles’ Magus, O’Brien’s Third Policeman or Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita had been published as Ballantine Paperbacks from Cordwainer Smith or Daniel Keyes, would they be on the Hugo Ballot?
This leads into probably one of the most interesting edge cases of recent years, where the author says she had no intention of writing science fiction but it is hard for the SF community to see it as anything else:
In contrast to some recent writers, Kavan’s move into the speculative realm is not as much of a leap. She has been writing since the twenties and her works have often made use of experimental and surrealist techniques, commonly looking at madness and incarceration.
As anyone who has read the stranger side of science fiction, such as Philip K. Dick, these kind of ideas are often played with in the speculative space. However, in this work it definitely feels like she walks over the 49th parallel into SFnal Canada.
In Ice we follow our unnamed protagonist (no one has names here) through a world where society is collapsing under the weight of a frozen disaster. Our narrator seems to be in pursuit of a young woman near the start but the full motivations remain obscure as, even though written in the first person, it is narrated in a very matter of fact style.
In many ways this reminded me of Ballard’s elemental apocalypses, where The Drowning Worldflooded the world and The Drought boiled it, this one has frozen it. And all involve the characters moving through the disaster riven Earth in a dream-like state, as we get to see insights into their state of mind.
However, where Ballard does more direct exploration of his inner-space, Kavan keeps everything very cold and clinical, written in sharp fragments such as this description of the aftermath of a rape:
Later in the day she did not move, gave no indication of life, lying exposed on the ruined bed as on a slab in a mortuary. Sheets and blankets spilled on to the floor, trailed over the edge of the dais. Her head hung over the edge of the bed in a slightly unnatural position, the neck slightly twisted in a way that suggested violence, the bright hair twisted into a sort of rope by his hands.
There is no mention of our narrator’s feelings on this, it is treated in a disassociated manner, as if he is outside the events being described. This in itself gives us insight, but predominantly by the absence of explanation than by the paucity of it.
Yet, it remains dreamlike in another way, for it follows through in a manner that feels coincidental and directionless. They move between scenes in a way that often led me to look back if I had missed anything. In addition there are regular hallucinations throughout, meaning that we have extra questions as to the reality of what we are seeing.
But I believe this is the point: we are meant to feel isolated and abstracted, just as the protagonist does. To see what we as the reader are appalled and terrified by this world, yet we see someone completely numb to it all as our guide.
I could take you through various sections but really it is one of those books you need to experience, to delve into the atmosphere and feelings (or rather lack thereof) in order to truly understand.
A very high four stars.
by Gideon Marcus
Bringing up the Rear
Ace Books, regular as clockwork, releases a monthly double dose of adventure in the form of the luridly composed Ace Doubles. In the past, these bundled short novels had a reputation for being rather shallow and adventure-focused, while also being subject to the mercurial editorial whims required to ensure the stories fit in the prescribed lengths. Over the last few years, however, these volumes have become some of my favorite sources of entertainment, and they've launched the careers of many a new and promising author. This time around, we've got a veteran paired with a newcomer:
Earl Dumarest awakens from cold sleep several days prior to his destination. He is one of the fortunate ones: 15% of the interstellar travelers who take Low Passage on a starship never revive. But Dumarest's luck ends there–instead of being dropped off at Broome, he must debark on the hell planet of Gath. On that tidally locked world, the Low Passage travelers are trapped without sufficient funds to leave, exploited by the Resident Factor of Gath despite the efforts of the local enclave of the Church of Universal Brotherhood.
What fuels the economy of this blighted planet? It is the winds that blow from the baked day side to the frozen night side. As they whistle along twilight mountain ranges, they set up resonances in the human mind, facilitating all manner of hallucinations: some pleasant, some insanity-inducing.
This natural phenomenon is the least of Dumarest's troubles as he has been plopped down into a budding conflict between the Matriarchy of Kund, the cruel Prince of Emmered, and other miscellaneous galactic forces. Can he thread the needle before the looming tempest envelops them all?
Truth be told, I was not expecting much from E.C. Tubb, a writer who almost invariably merits three stars. Even more so as the story reminded me strongly of Dune, with its sweeping setting, frequently shifting viewpoint, and its almost mythological character. The problem, of course, is that Dune was also a three-star tale for me.
So I was quite surprised that this tale grabbed me by the throat and did not let go until I finished, quite soon after I started. I think the main reason Tubb succeeds where Herbert does not is that Tubb can write! There are few wasted words, and his prose is sensual and visceral (perhaps he overuses "blood-colored" a touch; crimson would do occasionally). If Dumarest is a bit too superhuman, he is at least consistent in his abilities, and the limitations thereof. And such a vividly drawn world–it is clear that Dumarest will have more adventures in the future.
Carl Race is a Federation junior ecologist brought into investigate an agricultural blight on Cheiron. The garden-like world is home to a race of primitive but industrious centauroids working with the private enterprise Consolidated Enterprises (humorously abbreviated to "Con En"). There is concern that Con En caused the global catastrophe, which threatens the planet's legume and honey industries, potentially destroying the entire ecosystem. Should Con En lose its contract to trade with the Cheironi, its rival, Trans-Galactic, will swoop in.
Very quickly, Carl, with the assistance of a human teacher, Marcy, and a precocious Cheironi teen, Nubi, determine not only that the blight is artificially caused, but that there is a nefarious conspiracy involved. Much rushing around, near-miss assassinations, chase scenes, scientific explanations, and spelunking ensue. Don't worry–it's got a happy ending.
Author Juanita Coulson is probably better known to the world as half of the editing team of Yandro, a prestigious fanzine that has garnered nearly a dozen Hugo nominations and one win. This is her first foray into novel writing, and she's not nearly as polished as Tubb. The first 20 pages are quite rough sledding, and probably could have been pared down to perhaps a page. In fact, the whole first third is quite padded, and I have to wonder if this was an editorial decree to fill space (this particular Ace Double has very compressed pica, resulting in more words per page). But I stuck with it, and ultimately I found the book to be decently enjoyable. It feels pitched at a much younger audience, what was once called "juvenile" and is now coming to be termed as "young adult". You will probably guess the phenomenon that is the culprit before it is described, but that's fine. One should be able to solve a mystery from the clues provided.
I appreciate that Marcy is vital to the plot and Carl clearly finds her attractive, but no romance develops between the two leads. The aborigines are depicted as equals to humans (with good and bad examples of the species), which I would expect as Coulson has been a strident civil rights booster since her college days in the early 1950s.
This was apparently the subject of a panel at Balticon earlier this year. It is an interesting question. On the positive side we have noted the strong average quality of the new anthologies with New Writings being the “Best Magazine” in the Galactic Stars of 1965 and Orbit taking it for 1966.
At the same time, the amount of space for original fiction in the magazines is dropping. In May 1965, around 50 fiction pieces in total were published by SF magazines, in May this year it was down to around half of that.
On the flip side, there are still only a small number of original anthologies in the market, and they rarely get the big names in them. One of the reasons for this was highlighted in Australian Science Fiction Review:
Until carve outs are more regularly drawn, you are unlikely to get more people signed up.
Harlan Ellison has a new anthology coming out with some big names attached to it. Did he get carve outs? Was he able to give them bigger royalty cheques than usual? Or just his usual manner of badgering people until he gets what he wants?
But before then there are two that I want to address this month that may help answer this question. The first is the content of this item, Douglas Hill’s The Devil His Due:
In contrast to Ziff Davis magazines, most of the reprints are at the front. However, only one of these we have covered before:
This is a story by the famed author we have not covered before, due to it appearing in the thriller and mystery magazine Suspense in 1960.
In this silly take on the Faustus myth, Stephen is doing some tape editing when he accidentally summons the demon Batruel. Stephen doesn’t want to make a deal but, not knowing the words to dismiss his visitor, he is stuck with him in his house.
A very fun little tale with a touch of Oscar Wilde about it and a great sting at the end. Also, it is notable for never actually using demonic terms, only referring to this obliquely.
This is one we have covered twice before, in both Fantastic and Impulse, so I will not spend too long on it.
I will just say I agree with both my esteemed colleagues on this piece. Merril has written some brilliant works of SFF and this is one of them. It is literary without being confusing and liable to appeal to even those outside of the science fictional sphere.
Four Stars
Samuel F. Maynard and Anthropologic Demonography by Ramsey Wood
A brand-new writer making his debut here (take note Mr. Carnell).
In this vignette one Samuel F. Maynard is attempting to develop a classification system for demons. In an interview with a demon who is in possession of a human, he learns that they find his classification insulting. Should he worry about revenge?
The inexperience of the writer shows here. It is a very simple story with an attempt to raise it up through the form. However, it ends up feeling more heavy-handed and contrived than anything else. Still, there are definitely some signs of promise, I will look forward to Ramsey’s next piece.
The oldest of these tales comes from 1958’s Science Fantasy (long before we began covering it) and has not been reprinted since.
In another Fasutian tale, scientist Cris Neville summons a demon, determined to discover the science behind them and make a bargain. But are they really as powerful as the legends suggest?
E. C. Tubb is the king of competence. An incredibly prolific author who has probably managed to produce more three star stories than anyone else. Not that this is something to sniff at but, ask me to tell you what happened in any of them, and I would be hard pushed to recall.
This follows that trend. It is reasonable, well-told and has a solid beginning, middle and end. But it is stretched a bit too long and suffers in comparison to Wyndham’s opening piece.
What would be a British publication be without a new Keith Roberts tale?
After a near miss with a bus, Alan goes to a party. There he meets Oliver, who was also nearly involved in a traffic accident, and Eileen, who has recently tried to kill herself. The party continues to fill up with people they do not know but who have all had close calls with death. Can you possibly guess what is going on?
I am on record as not being a particular fan of Mr. Roberts' writing, nor do I enjoy his apparent current obsession with cars (there is lots of mechanical talk on them in here). But even ignoring that I find it hard to find much of anything to like in this stretched out tale of one of the hoariest old scenarios of horror.
One Star
Devil of a Drummer by Hilary Bailey
Always good to see more from this all too infrequent contributor to the British SF scene. This piece starts off with our narrator witnessing a man who falls off his bicycle and then threatens the delivery driver for money, in spite of not being injured. After he returns home, he discovers (via his daughters’ copy of Melody Maker) the cyclist was successful pop musician and club owner, Red Kynaston.
The plot thickens when the narrator is called in to help at a murder scene. Within the ritual devastation Kynaston’s music is playing and “Kynaston” was one of the victim's last words. Before the inquest Kynaston threatens to curse our narrator. Afterwards the narrator finds himself unable to speak and his daughter begins acting strangely. So a battle begins between the two of them…
On the positive side, she does a great job of portraying contemporary London in its diversity and modern parenting, when so many writers still feel make you like it’s the 1930s and everyone is stuffed to the brim with tweed. It also remains engaging throughout, reminding me of the best examples of Hammer Horror films.
On the negative side, the attempts to include the West Indian community still fall into stereotypes about magic, superstition and cowardice that regularly pop up and really need to go away. It also, at times, felt like I was watching one of those silly teen rebellion films that are regularly released (and I will go see if I fancy a cheap laugh).
Just a few of the numerous teen rebellion films that have been released since the mid-50s
Overall I liked it, but there is room for improvement. Three Stars
Two of the leading lights of the New Wave have another go at collaboration, this one being more successful than their last effort.
Mr. Godwin’s wife Lottie has died and he is beside himself with grief. When a man comes to offer him a package of anything he wants in exchange for his immortal soul, in spite of being an atheist, he accepts. Lottie, on the other hand was a devout Christian and is not all too keen on being brought back in this manner.
A simple story but well written in the lyrical but accessible style I have come to accept from Disch and with a wonderfully haunting ending.
Whilst this has a 1963 copyright date, I do not believe it was published until a couple of months ago, in de Camp’s anthology The Fantastic Swordsmen (all the other stories within are old tales so we elected not to cover it at the Journey).
This continues the tales of albino Swordsman Elric, whose last new adventure was back in 1964. After a brief reintroduction to the character and the setting we join him and his companion Moonglum in the midst of a sea-battle. After they quickly dispatch their opponents, a message comes to Elric for help from Queen Yishana. In her kingdom Chaos has arrived and they discover the citadel of a disgraced servant of the Lords of Chaos, Balo the Jester.
I had thought Elric’s adventures had ended and Mr. Moorcock would be too busy putting together the new versions of New Worlds to put out any more of these tales, but I am very glad to have them. This represents among the better works of the series.
Firstly, it spends a lot of time with the characters, carefully considering their different motivations and the consequences of their choices. As such it feels real and understandable. This then nicely contrasts with the strange imaginative worlds we get within the titular citadel and the bizarre battles among these supernatural entities beyond our understanding.
This appears to be earlier than many of his tales, surprised by the presence of Chaos on Earth and loath to do war against them. It seems to make real considerations for this with Elric feeling guilt and conflict over past events and despairing of the choices to come. A stark contrast to many sword and sorcery adventures where each part feels more like a discreet thrilling adventure.
I loved it and hope Moorcock has time for more.
Five Stars
Give The Hill His Due
Speak of the devil…
Douglas Hill has put together an impressive collection here. The best works are predominantly the reprints but there was only one piece in the entire anthology not to my tastes. He also manages to include a new writer and two women in here, when most magazines seem to struggle to publish even one an issue.
If this quality can continue, maybe the future is here instead of in magazines after all?
Come back later in the month for my thoughts on the second Orbit anthology.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
Never let it be said that Science Fiction is always lightweight stuff. Both magazines are tackling big issues this month.
We’re back to fuzzy covers in this month's Impulse – don’t forget, “The NEW Science Fantasy”. It’s OK but not the best. It’s another Keith Roberts, more of which in a minute.
The Editorial this month has the Editor Kyril still meditating over the genre. Readers still like stories about other humans, he suggests – it is rare for humans to like stories that are truly alien – presumably a response to the Merril story started last month and concluding in this. (More later.)
To this month’s actual stories.
Seventh Moon , by John Rankine
A debut author, I think. When spaceship Interstellar Two-Nine goes missing on its approach to the ‘polite’ planet of Bromius, Dag Fletcher of the Inter-Galactic Organisation goes to investigate. With such a set-up, I suspect that this will become an ongoing series of some sort. It’s typical Space Opera and paradoxically remarkably mundane, even down to the repeated descriptions of how gorgeous all the women are, with the exception of the lead female character, who is deliberately annoying. 3 out of 5.
In this third story from Roberts’ alternate History, where Elizabeth I was assassinated in 1588, we are given the chance to see the effect of religion upon this alternate life. As this is a world dominated by the Roman Catholic faith, it is an interesting perspective on what we have read so far.
Brother John is an Adhelmian monk who is given the task of recording, for the benefit of Rome, all stages in the proceedings of The Court of Father Hieronymous, Witchfinder in General to Pope John. He begins to dare to question the practices of the Church during a version of the Inquisition, and is so affected by what he sees that he begins to lead a revolt against the Church. The ending is rather enigmatic, in that in a crowd of acolytes Brother John experiences a vision showing an alternate future, a more positive one than that experienced by the masses. Leaving on a boat to Rome, the boat capsizes with no one to be found. This development of this series continues to impress.
Well, it’s taken a bit longer than it has in our world, but it seems that some sort of religious reformation is beginning. It’ll be interesting to see where this social upheaval leads, and I’ll read the next story to see if this idea evolves further. 4 out of 5.
From an alternative past to an alternate future, though from the same writer, because Alistair is actually Keith Roberts, who we have just read!
The two stories however couldn’t be more different. The Pace That Kills is evidently inspired by the newly introduced 70-miles-per-hour speed limit on Britain’s motorways. It is a world where this obsession with speed is taken to its limit. The government have politicized speed limits and uses black boxes in the vehicles to control speed in most people’s vehicles, but rebellious types adapt their vehicles, deliberately race each other and flagrantly ignore the limits.
Johnny Morris and his friend Tinker are witness to a seemingly fatal accident. They rescue a girl and meet the officious Masterwarden of Sector Twelve in West London, Horace J. Bigge. Afterwards, we discover that they work for Peter Hanssen, the leader of the Driver Party, for there is an ongoing political war between the Motorists, known as Drivers, and the Pedestrians, called Peds.
The survivor of the accident, Moira Alice Kelly, is taken to hospital, interrogated by Bigge and sentenced to torture and death. Despite Nanssen’s wishes, Morris and Tinker decide to attempt a rescue. It doesn’t go well, but Moira is released. Bigge is also captured and there follows a bizarre interrogation after which Bigge is set free, but dies by being run down on the road. Moira enthusiastically explains how she became a motor addict to Nanssen. They begin a relationship, only to find that Kelly is an undercover Warden. The story finished unconvincingly.
This is a really mixed-up story. Part adventure, part satire, in the end it is not a good example of either. It is generally uneven in pace and plot, veering between unsubtle satire and making a serious point. There’s a huge clumsy dollop of ‘telling’ the reader things in the middle as well.
Generally, things are usually ramped up to excess throughout this overlong story, which diminishes it overall. Difficult to believe that these two stories are from the same writer, which may be the point of the pseudonym. 2 out of 5.
Something to freshen the palate a little now. This is a debut story in Impulse from someone who has made quite a name for himself through his critical comments in recent months – it was Chris that Kyril wrote an open letter response to in his editorial of Science Fantasy back in January. He is also currently a regular critic in the British Science Fiction Association’s in-house magazine, Vector.
With this in mind, it is interesting to read some of Chris’s fiction rather than his critical work. It is OK but nothing special. Senator Robbins, driving in his car, is summoned back to his base in an emergency. As he gets closer to the headquarters the journey becomes increasingly fraught as the road is surrounded by angry jeering teenagers known as Juvies.
Clearly tapping into the feeling of unease that many older people have about teenagers of today, the gist of the story is that the Juvies are going to take over the world, incite rioting and basically destroy law and order, and that this is the start of the revolution. There’s some nice touches, but the ending is annoyingly enigmatic. This is clearly a beginner’s work, but I’d be interested to see more of this from Chris. 3 out of 5.
Cry Martian, by Peter L Cave
A story of little Timmy who tells his mother that he has found a Martian camp whilst playing out in the woods. The twist in this brief story is that he is on Mars. Short but fairly effective, if forgettable.
3 out of 5.
Back to the second and final part of Judith Merril’s story. Last time we found nine-year old Dee and her younger brother Petey stranded on a planet and taken in by the insect-like Lady Daydanda.
In this second part we read of further attempts to communicate and understand each other. Dee learns to translate the thoughts Daydanda is telepathically putting in her head. In return, Daydanda learns more about the humans. When Dee and Petey return to their rocket, Dee allows one of Daydanda’s sons to enter the burned-out spaceship with them, and through the son Daydanda can communicate further. She discovers what ‘machines’ are, that the place they are in is ‘a spaceship’ and that it can travel to places beyond their world.
Daydanda’s concern for the children and willingness to care for them is made more difficult by Dee’s seemingly illogical desire to be with her Mother. The aliens eventually are allowed access to the cockpit where both of her parents are dead, and much of the last part of the story shows us Daydanda’s logical, if erroneous, reasoning for why Dee does not want to see her Mother dead in the Spaceship. Intriguingly, the ending feels rather creepy, although I suspect the idea is meant to be a happy one, where Petey and Dee are willingly left in the presence of the Mother – for now.
As I said last month, even though there are issues of this being a reprint, it is a great story. Merril’s description of the aliens, and the thought processes they go through to make their decisions and choices is wonderful – but, of course, really it is the humans who are the aliens. 4 out of 5.
Summing up Impulse
Mainly novellas again this month. The Merril finishes well, and may be the best thing in the magazine, although I am still annoyed about it being a reprint. I continued to enjoy the Pavane series, although I know that it is not for everyone and this latest installment will not change that view, I’m afraid. It’s intriguing to read Chris Priest’s fiction as opposed to his letter-writing. But then we have what even Kyril referred to last month as “typically Bonfiglioni space-fillers”.
I’m almost tempted to add the Rankine here as one, though that may be uncharitable. It’s OK, if just… boring. The Cave story Cry Martian tells us an old trope in a new way – but nothing new, there. However, The Pace that Kills is just awful. I suspect it has been there a while waiting to be used as “space-filler”.
So: a mixture of good and bad this month, leading to a lower-than-average, certainly of late, issue. With the dominance of new Associate Editor Keith Roberts this month, this may be a little worrying.
In contrast to Impulse, Mike Moorcock has opted for shorter stories with more variety this month. He’s also promised to tackle that perennial (and most touchy!) topic of religion.
In the Editorial, Moorcock warms up by tackling the topic of the supernatural. He refers to a new book about it, quoting its point that the supernatural may be connected to the natural, or normal, in a person’s mind, and that Ballard and Philip K. Dick write about this in different ways. The final paragraphs suggest we should see more sf incorporating drugs to explore this new territory.
My issue with this is that you may need to take drugs to understand such stories. As I don’t partake – beyond the odd cup of tea! – such stories tend to leave me cold.
Here’s the welcome return of Bob Shaw, last seen in these pages back in October 1965 with …And Isles Where Good Men Lie.
Whilst involved in an aeroplane test flight accident, aerospace engineer Tony Garnett hears a voice say, “Get me out of here Xoanon.” When he is recovering in hospital, he tries to work out who Xoanon is and where the voice came from. He contacts his deputy Ian Dermott to cancel the firm’s current project, a flying wing for civil aviation. Four months later, Garnett is back to work but finds that, despite his wishes, work has been continued in secret. His attempt to meet a worker involved in the project is unsuccessful – the man faints – but Garnett finds that the poor unconscious worker has recently been sent away on a special training course.
He takes his nurse Janice Vickers away on a weekend but really goes to find the place in Harlech, Wales, where this training course has been held. As Garnett gets near he realises he has been there before but has strangely forgotten about it. The date with Janice doesn’t go well, and Garnett ends up in Janice’s chalet whilst she ends up in his. This is a fatal mistake, as during the night there is an explosion in Garnett’s chalet where he would have been sleeping and Janice dies. The last words she mumbles to Tony are also about Xoanon.
Things now get stranger. Garnett is told by the police that the explosion was caused by a meteorite strike. After being interrogated by the police Garnett returns to the factory where he is told that a wing is being built for a customer by the name of Xoanon, who is one of a group of extraterrestrials. They wish to use the wing to collect something lost off the coast of Wales.
Dermott tells Tony that he has been manipulated by Xoanon from the start, but the accident meant that a metal plate was put in his skull which broke the contact between him and Xoanon. Garnett is shot by Dermott. Surviving this, Tony captures a test plane about to take off and attempts to rendezvous with Xoanon’s spaceship hidden in the upper atmosphere.
Tony meets Xoanon, who in Bond-villain fashion explains all to Garnett. Garnett also meets Janice again, because – surprise, surprise! – she wasn’t killed, but is now in the body of an alien. Tony decides not to return to Earth.
It’s good to see Bob back, but this is relatively mediocre stuff. The setting’s good, the prose too, but the plot got wilder and wilder until it lost credibility for me. The ending is particularly weak, as there are elements seemingly key to the plot that are not explained – do the aliens retrieve their device? – and the abrupt end of the story means that we do not find what happens next.
I think Bob’s trying to write a contemporary thriller with a science-fictional element, but it didn’t quite work. 3 out of 5.
The Ultimate Artist, by Richard A. Gordon
We’ve met Gordon before with his story A Question of Culture back in Science Fantasy in December 1965. We’re treading similar ideas here, as this story is about what happens when an Artist named Zacharias decides to retire. The story is told by a narrator who has spent much of their life following Zacharias as he travels across the galaxy. When Zacharias performs for the last time, there are consequences for the narrator.
There’s some nice descriptions of what it is like to be enraptured by a performance. It is about the joy of the experience and fan-worship. Rather like seeing The Beatles or The Rolling Stones as they retire, I guess. 3 out of 5.
Rumpelstiltskin, by Daphne Castell
Daphne has been popping up with some regularity in New Worlds of late. This time she retells the old fairytale of a princess locked away in a tower from the perspective of Rumpelstiltskin. Well written but not really memorable. 3 out of 5.
Illustration by James Cawthorn
Unification Day, by George Collyn
George Collyn was last seen in last month’s issue waxing lyrical over the work of Kurt Vonnegut. Here we’re seeing his fiction. I quite liked the set-up of this one, in an alternate history where Britain has been unified with France. This is emphasised by the point that although the story is set in Scotland, there’s lots of wine, pastries and Camembert around!
The narrator tells us of what happens when he and his wife go to stay with his posher brother-in-law for the celebrations of the 150th anniversary of Unification Day. As the narrator is an advovate of English Home Rule and the brother-in-law is a Francophile, as you might expect it doesn’t go well. Much of the story here shows us how the British are treated as underdogs and lesser citizens, how the language is down-graded in society and British culture is derided. The consequence of this is the story-teller is determined to continue his fight in the future. An interesting version of the traditional Scottish – English independence debate, which makes valid points, but then doesn’t seem to go anywhere. 3 out of 5.
The return of an old-school regular. Students from different planets begin at an Earth academy. Armitage is an unpleasant student who finds it difficult to fit in, and reacts violently to what he sees. He graduates – eventually. However, the reason for his behaviour is revealed at the end of the story.
This is a story with an almost Heinlein-like tone, which may wrongfoot the reader. It doesn’t show humans in a good light, though. Nicely written, even if it is a one-trick kind of tale. 3 out of 5.
Fountaineer, by David Newton
This month’s lyrical story, about a fountain in a village in Italy and its creator. Lots of lush prose which otherwise has little point. 3 out of 5.
Illustration by Douthwaite
Fifth Person Singular, by Peter Tate
A story of awareness from different perspectives. An alien shows us his perception of his world. When he meets Ahn, he then discovers that there is more than one way of looking at things. Appropriately inner space, this one. A romance that takes navel-gazing to another dimension. 3 out of 5.
A Man Like Prometheus, by Bob Parkinson
A more typical romance story now. A space pioneer returns from “Out There” to meet Rosamund, his Earthbound love, after their careers and a genetic disorder have kept them apart. I like what the writer is trying to do here – romance in a SCIENCE FICTION magazine?! The problem is that it’s not that well done and comes across as somewhat mawkish and maudlin. 3 out of 5.
Illustration by Douthwaite
Girl, by Michael Butterworth
A person visits an old barn filled with ancient and decaying artifacts. Lots of descriptions of things in a dream-like state. The twist in the tale is that this story is after some sort of an apocalypse which they have caused. Lots of lyrical allegory which tries to mean more than it does. 3 out of 5.
Clean Slate, by Ralph Nicholas
Stranded, John Sumpter attempts to fix a broken-down spaceship without help or spare parts. It seems impossible. Expecting the end, Sumpter and his friend Orlando swap tales about their pasts. They experience some kind of cosmic event, which allows them to fix their ship and go home. Unconvincing. 3 out of 5.
A Different Kick – Or How to Get High Without Going into Orbit, by John Brunner
After last month’s strange serial, here’s John Brunner in non-fiction mode. This is an abridged transcript of an address given by Brunner at the London Worldcon last year. It was mentioned by both editors after the event as a landmark speech and caused a bit of a stir at the Worldcon, I gather. I assume for that reason it is given here.
Reading it, I can see why. Brunner examines what sf readers like and don’t like about non-sf novels, and how non-sf writers have managed to be successful in the genre. It’s well thought out and makes valid points using lots of references to different author’s work. At the end Brunner echoes Moorcock’s ideas that sf needs to move away from its pulp origins and be something new and different if it is to inspire and succeed in the future. A “Look forward, not back” kinda thing. It is well done, but is nothing new to regular readers.
Letters and Book Reviews
Assistant Editor Langdon Jones tackles one book in depth this month – Dreams and Dreaming by Norman MacKenzie. The reason given for this is that it gives the reader an insight into Fantasy writing by explaining the workings of the inner mind. Really though it seems to be a justification for all those stories we are currently reading about visions and dream-states – there’s some in this month’s issue, for example.
James Colvin (aka Mike Moorcock, don’t forget!) covers a number of story collections in some detail. The Best from Fantasy & SF Volumes 11 and 13 come out of this dissection pretty well, although Colvin feels that Volume 11 is better than Volume 13. By contrast, Lloyd Biggle’s All the Colours of Darkness is “a weary book”. Walter M Miller’s Conditionally Human collects three “above average” novellas from the fifties. Daniel F Galouye’s latest, The Lost Perception, is “unsuccessful”.
After being absent for a while, the Letters pages this month are very entertaining, as Moorcock answers criticism of his "attack" on religion in his Editorial of Issue 158 (January 1966). Too long to quote, but the responses on both sides are fulsome and interesting.
Summing up New Worlds
Once again Moorcock has gone for breadth rather than depth here this month. This means that there’s more to like and the range of material is good, but overall the issue feels a little underwhelming. The much-vaunted Bob Shaw story disappointed, for example. There’s nothing here that is not entertaining, but at the same time there’s not a lot here worth remembering.
Summing up overall
Once again, we have the two magazines showing different aspects of the genre. Whereas Impulse has gone for less stories and more depth, New Worlds impresses with its range.
This makes the choice difficult in that we are rather comparing oranges with apples. It also doesn’t help that neither magazine truly impresses this month. They are not bad, it is just that we’ve had better from both editors. Each issue has its own disappointment.
In the end I’ve opted for Impulse as the better, although I could easily see other readers opt for New Worlds, for the reasons I have given above.
With all this talk of religion, I see the title of John Baxter's novel in next month's New Worlds with a certain degree of irony…
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![[October 6, 1969] The Rule of a Mediocracy (<i>Vision of Tomorrow #3</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Vision-2-362x372.png)
![[July 16, 1969] Not all Jake(s) (July 1969 Galactoscope)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/690716covers-672x372.jpg)
![[January 14, 1969] Ten for the road (January Galactoscope)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/690114covers-672x372.jpg)
![[February 14, 1968] Triple John (February 1968 Galactoscope)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/680214titles-672x372.jpg)
![[September 10, 1967] Women's liberation! (September 1967 Galactoscope)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/670910featured-672x372.jpg)
![[August 6, 1967] A Dark Future (<i>The Devil His Due</i> by Douglas Hill)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Devil-His-Due-2-306x372.jpg)
![[July 28, 1966] Cat People and Overpopulation (<i>SF Impulse</i> and <i>New Worlds</i>, August 1966)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Impulse-NW-Aug-66-672x372.jpg)
![[April 26, 1966] Inner Space, Romance and Religion <i>Impulse</i> and <i>New Worlds</i>, May 1966](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Impulse-NW-May-1966-619x372.jpg)
