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[February 20, 1967] To Ashes (March Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Kaye Dee

Tasmania’s Black Tuesday

The poet Miss Dorothea Mackellar refers to Australia as a “sunburnt” country, but the recent devastation in Tasmania reminds us that Australia is also very much a “sun-burned” country.
Bushfire disasters are nothing new in Australia, but the horrific catastrophe of 7 February, which has already been dubbed “Black Tuesday”, ranks as one of the worst this country has experienced. In less than a day, 62 people were killed (the second largest number in the nation’s bushfire history) and more than 900 injured. Almost 1300 homes are believed lost and over 1700 other buildings destroyed. It has been estimated that at least 62,000 farm animals have also perished.

After a long dry spell, it seems that an unfortunately “ideal” combination of weather factors on the 7th led to the disaster. Across southern Tasmania, the island state that lies to the south of the Australian mainland, there were already extremely high temperatures (the maximum was 102 °F!) and very low humidity when intense winds from the northwest fanned a number of bushfires burning in remote areas into raging infernos.

110 separate fire fronts burned through around 652,000 acres in the space of just five hours! Within a forty mile radius around Hobart, the state capital, many towns and rural properties have experienced significant damage: twelve towns have been completely destroyed. Even Hobart itself has not escaped unscathed, with hundreds of homes and businesses razed, including the famous Cascade Brewery. With most communications and services cut, thousands were evacuated to Hobart at the height of the emergency, and it is believed that up to 7000 people are now homeless. The total damage bill is already being estimated at a staggering $40,000,000 Australian dollar values! But recovery efforts are underway and help is pouring into the “Apple Isle” from all over Australia. Southern Tasmania will rise from the ashes, but recovery will be a long process that will take many years.


by Gideon Marcus

Literal tragedy

Kaye's tragedy is heartbreaking, the sort of thing one for which one flees into fiction.  Sadly, the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction offers little in the way of solace.

Sooty pages


by Jack Gaughan (these folks don't actually appear this issue…)

The Sea Change, by Jean Cox

The editors Ferman have saved perhaps their best for first.  A young failure, son of a brilliant marine biologist who committed suicide at the height of his career, attempts one final emulation of his father.  In a poignant scene, he doffs his clothes, dives into the water, and drowns.

But rather than die, he finds himself kept alive via a biological symbiote on his back.  He is welcomed into an underwater commune of sorts, a living socialism of sea creatures for which his hands and intellect are desired additional traits.  Recruited to dispose of their failed attempts to create humans underwater, he is faced with a choice: a blissful existence as part of a hive mind underwater, or a sorrowful existence as an independent failure on dry land.

In a way, this tale is the opposite of Bob Sheckley's Pusher, one of my very favorite stories.  Sea Change is beautifully written, but I found the end unconvincing, and the decision disappointing.

It teeters on the edge of four stars, but just misses, I think.

The Investor, Bruce Jay Friedman

Odd piece about a stock broker whose pulse becomes directly tied to the share price of one of his investments.  I think it's supposed to be satire?

Two stars.

Zoomen, Fred Hoyle

On a trip in the Scottish Highlands, a fellow is scooped up by aliens and imprisoned on a ship with eight other humans of many backgrounds, four men and four women.  Our hero believes that they are destined to be seeding stock for an interstellar menagerie.  Clues include the even gender make-up, their indifferent treatment, and their rough conditioning (made to be nauseated as a goad). 

This tale is nicely written, a bit reminiscent of the beginning of Hoyle's October the First is Too Late, which also started with a Scottish trek.  Like that novel, but even more so, the ending is a let down, and without any of the attendant philosophical interest.

Three stars.

The Long Night, Larry Niven

A momentary uptick with this bagatelle, a variation on the deal with the devil theme.  A student of magic decides to cap his doctoral thesis by summoning a demon.  Of course, now his soul is forfeit, unless he asks for the right gift–and uses it to its fullest.

It's fun, and apparently utilizes the author's B.S. in Mathematics.

Four stars.

Relic, Mack Reynolds

Like all mountains, once one reaches the summit, it's all downhill from there.  In this tale, we meet an octogenarian Lord Greystoke, now mostly insane and very violent.  The slightest affront sends him into a murderous rage, and he soon builds up a trail of bodies, punctuating each kill with an ululating bull gorilla roar.

Another "funny" piece.  I din't like it.

Two stars.

Crowded!, by Isaac Asimov

It's been nearly a decade since Dr. A started this column, and of late, he's been running out of ideas.  He's back to geographic lists, taking a hodgepodge of mildly interesting facts from almanacs and atlases.  This time, it's a list of "great cities" (over a million residents) and their world distribution.

I've got an atlas, too, Isaac.  A couple of 'em.

Three stars.

The Little People, by John Christopher

Which leaves us with the much-anticipated conclusion of the serial.  In the first installment, we were introduced to Bridget, heir to a dilapidated Irish hostel…and a secret.  After her first group of neurotic guests have been assembled, they find hints that the place is inhabited by Little People. 

In Part 2, we find that they are not of magical provenance at all, but are actually tiny Jews, forced into diminution and then tortured by an exiled Nazi scientist.  Much brouhaha is made regarding their disposition.  I assumed Part 3 would resolve the outstanding threads.

It does not.  Instead, each of the lodgers has some sort of vision, mostly unpleasant.  A good forty pages is taken up with these nightmares in which the eponymous tiny ones make no appearance whatsoever.  In the end, the episodes are explained as some kind of ESP-as-torment, and the manor is abandoned.

It's the worst of cop-outs, redolent with sex.  I'm afraid no amount of attempts to titilate can cover the fact that there's no there there.

Two stars for this segment, and two and a half for the serial as a whole.  I prefer consistent mediocrity to an undelivered promise.

Scorched Earth

And that's that!  A disappointing 2.7 star issue with only one unalloyed success, and that one very short.  In the latest Yandro, Don & Maggie Thompson maintained that F&SF is the best of the SF mags.  That may have been true a decade ago.  It hasn't been true in a while.

Just as Tasmania may rebuild, so F&SF could return to greatness.  I just hope I live long enough to see it…


by Gahan Wilson (by way of Mack Reynolds, it seems…)



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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 20, 1967] Sag in the middle (February Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Tossing and turning

When I was a kid, I had (like everyone else) a cotton-filled mattress. In a lot of ways, I was lucky. I was a skinny kid so I didn't weigh much, and I was just as lief to sleep on the rug as in a bed, so I wasn't picky about where I lay down. Plus, bedbugs weren't a problem in sunny El Centro. They hated the lack of air conditioning as much as we did. So that ol' mattress did me fine.

But I got spoiled by my first innerspring in the 50s. That's sleeping comfort.

The only problem with coil mattresses, of course, is that after a while (unless you managed to stay teen skinny into your middle years) the middle sags. Eventually, you're in this little self-made pit. Oh your aching back!

The latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction is a bit like a saggy mattress.  It's great at the ends, but the middle is the absolute pits.

It started so well


by Chesley Bonestell

The Hall of the Dead, by L. Sprague de Camp and Robert E. Howard

Robert E. Howard is having the best decade in a long time.  It's a pity he's not around to enjoy it, having passed away more than 30 years ago.  But his mighty thewed creation "Conan", warrior of Hyboria, has found new life in the hands of famed Fantasist L. Sprague de Camp.  In addition to compiling (and lightly editing) Howard's old stories for a pair of collections, which Cora will be reviewing in two days, Sprague has also taken unfinished pieces and raw outlines and given the bones flesh.

The Hall of the Dead was only a 650 word outline when Sprague found it.  It is now an intriguing new novelette in the Conan canon, one that I found every bit as exciting as the various pieces I've found in old pulps. 

It's a tale set very early in Conan's life.  He is on the run from the wicked city of Shadazar, a company of police soldiers on his tail led by the Aquilonian mercenary, Nestor.  Conan seeks refuge in the cursed dead city of Larsha.  There, he and Nestor must team up to face a variety of horrors, living and dead.  The reward if they succeed?  Treasure beyond imagining!

It's great, riproaring stuff.  More please.

Four stars.


by Gahan Wilson

A Walk in the Wet, by Dennis Etchison

The lone survivor of a spacewreck is haunted by more than the deaths of dozens.  For, as a telepath, he experienced the fatalites as well as witnessed them.  Now faced with the truth of how he became the mutant he is, the spacer has taken on a grisly mission…if only he can remain sober long enough to carry it out.

That summary makes this sound like a pretty good story.  It's not.  It's impenetrable and rather disgusting.  I suppose its lone virtue is that it's memorable.

One star.

The Next Step, by E. A. Moore

On an overcrowded world, the only hope for humanity is colonizing the stars.  It turns out that the inevitable leukemia that the settlers acquire on their relativistic jaunts is the key to their transcending their physical form and becoming one with the universe.

In addition to being rather amateurishly written, this story requires a lot of leaps of faith.  I have trouble buying the premise that cancer is actually a beneficial development.

Two stars.

The Song of the Morrow, by Robert Louis Stevenson

Ferman is really scraping the barrel if he has to go back 70 years for a piece.  In this vignette, wide-eyed princess meets a crone on a beach, is told many things that come true, and the maid ultimately becomes the next crone.

I like poetic stuff as much as the next person, but this one didn't do it for me.

Two stars.

The Intelligent Computer, Ted Thomas

As usual, Ted starts with an interesting premise (how do you copyright/patent something developed by a computer?) and utterly flubs it.  Mr. Thomas needs to write a real article or stop writing these half-efforts.

Two stars.

The Little People (Part 2 of 3), by John Christopher

The serial continues.  Last month took us to a run-down hostel in rural Ireland where a collection of eight neurotics discovered what they thought was one of The Little People.

In this chapter, we learn that the foot-tall girl and her friends are not faerie folk at all, but something much more sinister–the result of a Nazi experiment in longevity. 

I honestly have no idea where this story is going to end up.  I am still enjoying it, though perhaps not quite so much as last time.

Four stars.

Impossible, That's All, by Isaac Asimov

In this month's article (the Good Doctor's 100th… and we've covered all save the first!), Dr. A talks about why it's impossible to go faster than light, and why we should all just stop bugging him about it.

It's a good piece, particularly in talking about how our advancements in science serve to refine models rather than completely overthrow them (q.v. Newton to Einstein).  On the other hand, sometimes model changes are revolutionary.  Discovering subatomic particles didn't change the life of the average citizen…until we used the knowledge to make atomic bombs and reactors.  We now seem to be on the edge of a revolution in sub-sub-atomic physics as we speak, giving rhyme and reason to the veritable zoo of particles, just as subatomic theory made sense of Medeleev's periodic table.  Who knows if that will result in discoveries in previously impossible fields such as antigravity and faster than light travel?

Asimov is facile, but I suspect he's missing something.  Three stars.

Blackmail, by Fred Hoyle

The champion of out-of-date theories (e.g. "Steady State") offers up this bizarre little fantasy in which a fellow learns to communicate with animals.  Turns out all they want to do is watch people beat each other up on television.  Think of the effect on the Nielsen's!

Forgettable fluff.  Two stars.

Falling out

This sunken mess of a mattress garners a lousy 2.6 stars.  That's still better than most of the other mags out this month, which tells you how bad our job here at the Journey can be.

That said, between the Conan and the Christopher (not to mention Merril's column and Asimov's article), more than half of this month's issue is worth a read.

I'll just have to learn to sleep on the edges, that's all!




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 20, 1966] Above and beyond (January 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction and a space roundup)

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[Today is the last day you can sign up at the reduced rate for next year's Worldcon.  Don't miss your chance to vote in next year's Hugos!]


by Gideon Marcus

Science Fact

In '57, Asimov stopped being a full-time science fiction writer to become a full-time science columnist, a change in vocation that has largely been a positive one.  Why did the creator of Nightfall, Foundation, and Susan Calvin make the leap?  Because, with the launch of Sputnik, science fiction had suddenly become reality, and the front page of the newspaper contained some of the most thrilling SF headlines going.

That trend has only accelerated.  This month, we entered the next stage of space travel, not with a flashy Gemini launch (though those are nifty!) or our first manned trip to the Moon, but with something called ATS.

NASA's "Advanced Technology Satellite" went up on December 7, 1966.  Some satellites, like TIROS, are weather satellites.  Some, like SYNCOM, relay communications.  ATS is the first to do both, and from geostationary orbit.  At its altitude of 36,000 km, it takes exactly 24 hours to circle the Earth.  Thus, from the ground, it appears to be standing still.  Equipped with a "spin-scan" camera, every 20 minutes, ATS sends back a full-globe image of the Earth with a resolution of just 3km.  For the first time, we have essentially real-time weather coverage of an entire hemisphere.

No less ambitious, but sadly less successful, was last week's three-day "Biosatellite" mission.  Biosat is the first in a series of spacecraft that will observe the long term effects of orbital life on a variety of organisms.  On board are a menagerie of bugs (including the ever popular fruit flies) as well as seeds and plants.  The plan was to launch the mission on the 14th and then bring it back on the 17th, observing the effects of weightlessness and radiation on the living cargo.  A retrorocket malfunction stranded the satellite in orbit, however.  I suspect the SPCA is filing a lawsuit as we speak…

NASA isn't the only American agency conducting science.  Last week, the Air Force launched two satellites at once in its low-cost "Orbiting Vehicle" series, OV1-9 and OV1-10.  Normally, these go into polar orbits, but the latest duo follow more conventional paths.  For the most part, these little guys investigate radiation, radio propagation, and other near-Earth conditions.  This is all of great interest to an organization that wants to put flyboys in a Manned Orbiting Laboratory next year, but there's also a valuable scientific yield for the rest of us.

Science Fiction (and Fantasy)

After all that exciting real-world news, could an SF magazine hope to provide the same thrills?  Turns out the first 1967 issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction does!


by Gray Morrow

The Little People (Part 1 of 3), John Christopher

Bridget Chauncey is the heir to a most unusual estate in rural Ireland: a run-down country home built on the site of a ruined castle.  Enchanted with the place and its commercial opportunities, she essays a trial season running the place as a vacation lodge.  An odd assemblage of characters are introduced: a bickering middle-aged couple and their daughter on the edge of womanhood, a ruddy Wehrmacht veteran and his half-Jewish wife, Bridget's practical fianceé, Daniel, the estate handler's son, Mat, and the cook and maid. 

The Little People is slow to start, author Christopher allowing us to settle into the heads of each member of this queer group.  But when a two-inch sandaled footprint is discovered, and linked to the recent rash of minor thefts, the identity of the culprit(s) quickly is determined.

Fairies are real.

This is where we leave off this compelling chapter.  I look forward to the ramifications of "first contact" between giant and wee folk.  Four stars.

The Star Driver, J. W. Schutz

Less impressive is this tale of a man stranded on an asteroid with rapidly diminishing air reserves.  Rescue depends on propelling a beacon to orbital velocity.  This Analog-ish tale would have been better served had the ending not been spoiled from the start by editor Ferman (and to some degree, the title). 

On the other hand, I don't want to discourage F&SF from publishing, well, SF.  So, a low three stars.

Interplanetary Dust, Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas suggests that the flux of micrometeoroids around the Earth might be netted up and squashed into a planetoid to live on.  I don't think he's researched how thin that flux actually is.

Two stars.

The Disenchanted Symphony, James G. Huneker

Here's a reprint from the turn of the century!  A Russian composer, infatuated with the link between music and mathematics, creates a symphony that punches a hole through the fourth dimension, whisking his wife and his orchestra away from our plane of existence.  Can he get them back?

I was impressed with how modern this story felt.  Judith Merril expressed in her Books column this month that SF owes much of its present sparkle to works created more than fifty years ago.  She was talking about H.G. Wells.  This sentiment could easily be said of Mssr. Huneker as well.

Four stars.

Bait, Bob Leman

Sometimes what a door-to-door salesman is peddling isn't the product he has on display.  This is a deliciously subtle tale that gets better after a night's thought on it.

Four stars.

The Knight-Errant, the Dragon, and the Maiden, Gahan Wilson

Sometimes the dragon is a chaperone, not a jailer.

Cute.  Three stars.

Right Beneath Your Feet, by Isaac Asimov

We're back to lists and geographical tidbits from The Good Doctor this month, this time describing what places lie directly opposite others on the globe.  Well, at least I learned the etymology of the word "antipodes" (still don't know how to pronounce it, though…)

Three stars.

Kingdom Come, Inc., Robert F. Young

Last up, a Christmas story.  Robert F. Young has never found a myth he hasn't wanted to shoehorn into a science fictional story.  This time, he adapts a reliable well: Christianity.  On the Seventh Heaven pleasure satellite, an angelic fellow named Mike shows up looking for a job.  He and his six brothers (Gabe the trumpter, Raf, etc.) are out of work of late since no one has gotten into their particular establishment for many years. 

It's an obvious tale and a tedious one, opting for the easiest, least challenging conclusion.  Two stars.

Back to Earth

With the exception of the final tale (accepted more for its fortuitous length and timely theme, perhaps), this is a quite good issue.  And with the unusual inclusion of a serial, there's all the more reason to look forward to the February issue when it arrives early next month.

Happy New Year, indeed!


by Gahan Wilson

[Today is the last day you can sign up at the reduced rate for next year's Worldcon.  Don't miss your chance to vote in next year's Hugos!]



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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 22, 1966] Ha ha.  Very funny.  (December 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Joke's on me

I have a buddy in the Costume Designers Guild (you know her, too — she's Gwyn Conaway).  She keeps me up to date with the inside dope on Hollywood.  One tidbit she offered up recently was something she paraphrased from a manual for actors published this year: the last words of the actor, Edmund Gwenn, who passed away in 1959.  A visitor to his deathbed exclaimed that his final ordeal must be hard for him.

Gwenn replied, "Dying is easy.  Comedy is hard."

I think it was in Lighthouse, a fanzine for pros, that Lester del Rey suggested more writers should go into comedy rather than flogging the same tired "serious" science fiction canards.  The problem is that humor is harder than seriosity.  An inexerpt attempt to make one laugh produces the opposite effect.

And God help us all if an editor decides to fill an entire magazine with failed attempts.  This month's Fantasy and Science Fiction, for example…

No laughing matter


by Howard Purcell

Sabotage, by Christopher Anvil

Chris Anvil normally writes for Analog.  His stories often pit humans outstmarting aliens with a bit of clever sophistry those stupid ETs (inevitably made of straw) could never conceive of, let alone counter.  How one of these tales got into F&SF, I'll never know.

The setup: the vaporous Tamar and Earth are in a stalemated war.  Earth has the technology, but Tamar has the psychology.  They possess our people and try to sabotage our efforts.  None of their attempts have been particularly successful, but the latest threatens to be a doozy.  College students are becoming increasingly disaffected by something they're being taught, and while the immediate effect is small, the cascade could be disastrous.  Luckily, Officer McAmerican (every character's name is in Rank Surname format) is able to counter the insidious teaching with a lesson plan of his own.

Obviously, this is some kind of anti-Communist metaphor; again, one wonders why Campbell didn't pick it up.  Perhaps he's full up on Anvil stories.  F&SF may pay more these days, too.  Anyway, Sabotage is three times longer than it needs to be — or it's infinity times longer, if you feel the story never needed to be written.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Mystery of the Purloined Grenouilles, by Gerald Jonas

In his first published story, Jonas gives us a baroquely told tale of a man who creates energy through reverse Galvanism: he hooks frogs up to a generator and tickles their legs.

Two stars.

Doubting Thomas, by Thomas M. Disch

Disch is an author who started so promisingly, but if this story, of a computer designed to suss out the veracity of magical events, is any indicaton of where he's headed, he might as well throw in the Smith-Corona. 

It just ain't funny, nor is it fun to read.  One stars.

The Martian Atmosphere, by Theodore L. Thomas

The "science" article describes what we know about the components of Mars' atmosphere.  Thomas seems to believe that because there's no oxygen that something must have happened to it.  Which presupposes it was ever there in the first place.  He also assumes that the carbon dioxide that makes up the majority of the Martian atmosphere is a byproduct of respiration.

At some point, we're going to have to come to terms with the fact that there's no life on Mars.

Two stars.

Von Goom's Gambit, by Victor Contoski

Take any position of the pieces on the chessboard. Usually it tells of the logical or semi-logical plans of the players, their strategy in playing for a win or a draw, and their personalities. If you see a pattern from the King's Gambit Accepted, you know that both players are tacticians, that the fight will be brief but fierce. A pattern from the Queen's Gambit Declined, however, tells that the players are strategists playing for minute advantages, the weakening of one square or the placing of a Rook on a half-opened file. From such patterns, pleasing or displeasing, you can tell much not only about the game and the players but also about man in general, and perhaps even about the order of the universe.

Contoski's tale, also apparently his first, is about an opening so repulsive, it is irresistible.  I'm a sucker for chess stories, and this is the first readable piece in the issue. 

Three stars.

The Green Snow, by Miriam Allen deFord

At first, it seems deFord will provide a bulwark against the droll tide.  After all, deFord is quite deft with menace and creep, skilled at eliciting deep and dark emotion, but she doesn't do comedy.  Thus, while a story that begins with the gentle falling of green-tinted snowflakes could have been a romp for others, in deFord's hands, it's clear we're in for a horror.

She executes it well-enough, though there's something of the last decade about it in its flavor.  But then, as if prodded by an editor overeager to have every story fit his chosen theme for the month, deFord adds a heavy handed joke at the end.

Which, of course, falls flat.  deFord doesn't do comedy…

The Gods, by L. Sprague de Camp

If there is humor in this short poem about the passage of the gods from human devotion, it is ironic.  In all fairness, I did enjoy this piece quite a bit.

Four stars.

The Symbol-Minded Chemist, by Isaac Asimov

The always good-humored Doctor A manages to stave off the jokeyness for another dozen pages, writing on the origin of chemistry's alphabet soup.  I always enjoy etymological articles, although the list of elements by alphabetical order of their chemical name seems a bit of padding.

Four stars.

Bumberboom, by Avram Davidson

It is centuries after The Bomb, and the resulting, almost anarchic society that sprawls across the Eastern Seaboard is threatened by Bumberboom.  It is a great cannon, though it has not fired a shot in generations, tended by an increasingly inbred crew, whose Captain Mog, somewhere between an idiot and a moron, is the brightest of the bunch.

Enter Mallian, son of Hazelip, who sees the ancient gun as an opportunity to carve a feudal realm out of the upstate New York, with him as its sovereign.

Bumberboom reads something like a cross between Jack Vance and R. A. Lafferty, combining the poetic resonance and creative settings that are the signatures of the former with the sometimes incomprehensible whimsy of the latter.  Davidson's problem is that when he decides to go for funny, he often writes himself into a twisted corner, his sentences meandering to get free of themselves.

Still, once you're into it, it's not so bad. Three stars.

The punchline

But not so bad is also not so good.  My nephew, David, called me last month to let me know he'd let his subscription to F&SF lapse.  I told him he was overreacting, that things had gotten better since Ferman had taken over from Davidson.  Now I can already hear an "I told you so" coming my way.

No joke!


Not me this month.



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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 22, 1966] Why Johnny Should Read (November 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Tune out, turn off, drop in

Lately, the Journey's been fairly taken over by the boob tube.  These days, it seems all we do is cover Star Trek, Doctor Who, Raumpatrouille Orion, and like that.

Don't get me wrong — I like these shows, and our circulation numbers show you do too.  But let us not forget that science fiction began as a literary tradition, and those lovely monthly magazines crammed with speculative morsels are still with us.  Sometimes it's great to unplug from the clamor of the idiot box, curl up in a sunbeam, and read some great STF.

Thankfully, there's a lot of great stuff in the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction…

Under the cover


by Bert Tanner

The Manor of Roses, by Thomas Burnett Swann

This is one of the few times (the first?) that an American magazine has been graced with Mr. Swann's work.  Normally, he spins modern retellings of mythological tales for the British mags.  But oh are we glad to have him here!

The Manor of Roses, set in King John's England, is the story of two adoptive brothers.  John is of gentle Norman birth; his inseparable villein companion, Stephen, comes from the stock of Saxon nobles.  Together, they steal away from their homes hoping to join in a latter Crusade in the Holy Land.

In a crypt they find along the way, they discover what appears to be an angel.  The beautiful young thing lies in repose, clutching a cross, professing to have lost her memories.  Stephen names her Ruth and takes her for an omen of good fortune, beseeching her to join their party.

Their expedition soon runs afoul of a community of Mandrakes, the one fantastical element in this richly drawn historical portrait.  These humaniform beings look like people after hatching, but soon grow hairy and woody.  Hunted for their bodies, which are rumored to make powerful aphrodisiacs, they are understandably hostile to humans.  Nevertheless, they are Christian, after a fashion, and Ruth secures the freedom of their party by bartering her cross.

Whereupon we come to the Manor of Roses and encounter the true narrator of the story, as well as the truth about Ruth.  I shall say no more of the plot.

As for the story, it is a beautiful thing, both engaging and educating.  Swann has such a subtle flow to his writing.  Indeed, I struggle to explain why I "only" give this story four stars instead of five. 

You may well not restrain yourself as I have.  Either way, it's fine reading and bravo, Mr. Swann.


by Gahan Wilson

The Best Is Yet to Be, by Bryce Walton

Retirement homes are a growing phenomenon these days.  Who wouldn't like to live out their sunset years in coddled comfort?  But what if the gilded cage is too suffocating?  And what is the value of secure longevity if one can't be with one's lifelong love?

Walton (who has been writing since the mid-forties) offers up a resonantly emotional story of a man who must live on his own terms, even if it means discarding all of his safety nets.

The sting in the story's tale is neither positive nor negative.  I think it could have been more adroitly done so as to cast doubt on the reality of all that transpires in the piece.  But it also could have been more heavy-handed, destroying the raw joy of the escapee's journey.

So I call the story a memorable four stars, and (unlike with the Swann) fully cognizant of how it might have gotten to five.

Heir Apparent, by Ed M. Clinton, Jr.

Here's a strange throwback of a story.  Fellow on Alpha Centauri writes to his (presumed) fiancee, describing how a tremendous genetic discovery made by his father means that he can no longer see her again. 

For there are people on Alpha Centauri.  Well, mostly.  Homo similis centauri is essentially human but lacking the frontal lobe.  Said father archaeologist begins rather scandalous attempts at cross-breeding, ultimately producing a viable being.  Surprise, surprise (not really), that offspring is the narrator.

It all reads like the Lovecraft stories where the storyteller discovers that he is really a fish-man or something and goes insane.  Clinton doesn't have his protagonist go crazy, exactly, but the result is much the same.

I dunno.  It didn't do it for me.  Two stars.

Earth Tremor Detection, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas, in his "science" article, makes the rather broad leap from seismometers that can tell the signature of a Russkie H-bomb test to delicate acoustic sensors that can tell a person from one's distinctive walking pattern.

Seems like a stretch, Ted.  Two stars.

A Friend to Alexander, by James Thurber

The one reprint of the issue, this is my first encounter with the prolific Mr. Thurber.  A fellow has nightmares about watching Aaron Burr goad Alexander Hamilton into a duel, ultimately killing him.  Then, in sleep, the dreamer becomes Burr's target of harrying.

It's well told, but the ending offers no surprises.  Perhaps there were no surprises to be had in the forties?

Three stars.

Neutral Ground, by Norman Spinrad

Welcome back, Mr. Spinrad!  In this tale, astronauts range unknown worlds not with the help of rockets and space suits, but with drug-enhanced clairvoyance.  Neutral Ground details the encounters one particular psychonaut has with a dreadful alien presence that gets closer with every mission.  Our hero is torn between fear of the inchoate threat and the desire to learn what it is. 

I found this story particularly interesting as the plot is somewhat similar to one of mine called Clairvoyage (though, of course, there is no chance of cross-pollination).  I liked it, though I found the end perhaps a touch pat.

Still, a memorable four star story.

Old Man River, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A is at it with his lists again, this time describing the longest rivers — and just what length means in a riparian context.  I usually find The Good Doctor's list articles to be his lesser ones, but this one made me rethink how I approach geography, one of my favorite subjects.

Four stars.

The Devil and Democracy, by Brian Cleeve

Last up, a novelette featuring Old Nick.  Seems the demons are on strike.  Shoulder to shoulder with the damned souls, they refuse to let any new entrees into the underworld until their demands are met.  Mephistopheles hatches a plan to bust the strike, but it'll take a Hell of a lot of cleverness to see it through.

I tend to like Satanic stories, but this one is not as clever as it thinks it is.  Weighing the piece's pros and cons against each other, they come out fairly balanced.  So, three stars.

Closing the Book

All in all, the November F&SF is a somewhat uneven, but ultimately rewarding experience.  Moreover, for just four bits (cheaper than most mags these days), I obtained several hours of speculative entertainment.  Compared to the flickering wares of the television, which even at their best are alloyed with vapid commercials, I think magazines still hold their own.

There's still plenty of new left in the old medium!


by Bert Tanner

[Speaking of new works in print, there is now a new installment in The Kitra Saga!  Sirena has been a smash hit, and I think you'll dig it, too.  Buy a copy…you'll be supporting me and getting a great read at the same time!]



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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 22, 1966] True Idols (the Isaac Asimov issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Good Doctor

If generations are measured in 20 year spans, then science fiction is entering its third generation.  It all started with Weird Tales, Amazing Stories, and the other more speculative pulps of the mid 1920s.  By the 40s, we were in what folks are calling the "Golden Age", when Astounding ruled the roost.  Since then, we've had what I'd call the "Silver Age" (or perhaps the "Digest Age" or the "Galactic Age") and are just starting one called the "New Wave".

The pulp age is now so long ago that we've already lost some of its more prominent writers: Doc Smith passed away last year, Ray Cummings was gone by 1957, Robert Howard and H.P. Lovecraft didn't make it out of the 1930s.  Others are still alive and well…and still active: Murray Leinster, Jack Williamson, Edmond Hamilton, Clifford Simak, Frank Bellknap Long, Hugo Gernsback.

The Golden Age spawned a new crop of greats, from Leigh Brackett to John W. Campbell, jr.  And there may be no author of that era of bigger stature, greater prolificity, not to mention bottom line, than Isaac Asimov.

One can say a lot about Isaac.  Garrulous, idiosyncratic, a workaholic, too pushy with his "harmless" romantic advances.  But also brilliant, thoughtful, charming (at least in print).  Love him or hate him, there's no question that he's left his mark on the field — from Nightfall, to I, Robot, to Foundation.  For twenty years, Asimov turned out SF stories with incredible reliability.  Then, with the launch of Sputnik, he turned his pen mostly to science fact.  He's found a permanent home at The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, to that publication's credit.  Asimov also churns out a flood of science books for the mass market.  There's really no category of the Dewey Decimal System this fellow hasn't touched upon.  He's an inspiration (a cautionary tale?) to us all.

So it was perhaps inevitable that F&SF would devote an issue to this titan of the genre.  If you can get past the over-the-top cover — but it's nice to see EMSH back — then a decent mag awaits.  Especially at 50 cents, which is cheap these days for a digest.

The Man Behind the Curtain


by Ed Emshwiller

The Key, by Isaac Asimov

First up is Asimov's first new SF story of significant length in quite some time.  Two geologists stumble upon an alien artifact during a selenological expedition.  Its ramifications for humanity are profound, so much so that the two have a lethal brawl.  One escapes to hide the artifact before dying.

He leaves this clue:

It's up to Wendell Urth, the agoraphobe protagonist of several F&SF stories from the mid 1950s, to crack the case.

The beginning is pretty gripping, and I'm happy to say I got some of the clues.  But it boils down to a rather abstruse puzzle with a bit too much punning for my taste.

Three stars.

You Can't Beat Brains, by L. Sprague de Camp

Sprague's short bio of his friend, Isaac, is not entirely flattering, but it does spotlight Asimov's undoubtedly prodigious intellect.

Three stars.

Isaac Asimov: A Bibliography, by Isaac Asimov

If you ever wanted to know what Asimov has been up to (besides chasing skirts) for the last thirty years, this is a good ledger.  25 science fiction books (two of which the Journey has covered), three pages of short stories, three more pages of non-fiction articles (most of which the Journey has covered), and 30+ nonfiction books.

Whereas I've got just two books and four stories (and a thousand non-fiction articles) to my credit.  Ah well.  I'm still young.

Portrait of the Writer as a Boy, by Isaac Asimov

For this month's non-fiction article, Asimov takes on his favorite subject — himself!  Actually, I appreciated this glimpse into the world of science fiction reading and writing in the late 30s.  It's an era I missed, despite having been born just a few months before Asimov (not having gotten into STF in a big way until ~1950).  Perhaps he'll some day use this article as a nucleus for an autobiography.  He's written everything else.

Four stars.

The Prime of Life, by Isaac Asimov

Here's a mildly diverting poem about being a legend in his own time, but too young yet to be taken seriously.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Mirror, by Arthur Porges

You didn't think it was going to be all about Asimov, did you?  Sure, he did, but you?

Mr. Porges offers up a paint-by-numbers piece of macabre about an old mansion with a spooky looking glass over the mantle.  The setup and the telling were quite good, but the ending was second-tier early days FSF — or maybe even earlier pulp.

Three stars.

Come Back Elena, by Vic Chapman

The science fictional notion of storing memories in a computer and then inserting them into an android or biological blank slate has been around a while.  This latest take from a new author starts quite promisingly.  A grieving husband finds his wife's doppleganger a decade after the wife's death.  She agrees to contribute sufficient biological material such that he can quick grow a new body as a vessel for her stored memories.  But, of course, All Does Not Go Well.

There's a novel's worth of premise to explore here: is it murder to displace the personality of a human being, even one that has been alive for just a few days?  Is the resulting person a new persona or a ressurrection of the old?  What are the legal ramifications, for the subject and the experimenter?

Chapman avoids all of these, instead turning in a rather humdrum "shock" ending.  It's a pity because the first half is quite strong.

Three stars.

Something in It, by Robert Louis Stevenson

Vignette on the immovable faith of a missionary encountering the irresistible force of an indigene's religion. 

Blink and you'll miss it.  Three stars.

The Picture Window, by Jon DeCles

"There's nothing new under the Sun."  So complains an industrialist to his artist friend.  Or should I say "former" friend as the dam the capitalist has erected is flooding out the beloved valley the painter has made his home.  The artist bets his ex-buddy $50,000 that he can make a truly new piece of art.

What he creates is…well, you be the judge.

Jon (he's a friend, so I call him Jon, even though that's not his actual name) has created a story that is, in execution, something of the opposite to Chapman's and Porges'.  It starts out a bit rocky, all shouty dialogue, but the latter half is memorable.

I'll take a good ending over a good beginning.  Four stars.

Burning Question, by Brian W. Aldiss

Speaking of memorable, here's a story snatched right from the front page.  An inhabited world far from Earth is soon to be a way station to the stars in a galactic continuation of the Cold War.  The indigenes have decided they would rather immolate themselves in protest than tolerate our base.  One sympathetic colonel's attempts to sway the American authorities to give in to native demands just this once fall on deaf ears.

There's some good philosophical stuff in here, and maybe some lessons for Lyndon.  Four stars.

An Extraordinary Child, by Sally Daniell

Lastly, a piece by another newcomer.  This one involves a child with a handicap of the mind.  He is brilliant, but tuned to another wavelength — one that allows him to see the little people.  Only these brownies/faeries/elves all speak like Beatniks, and they have murder on their mind.

Our Esteemed Editor has noted that woman authors are far more likely to have children featured in their stories.  I had high hopes for this one, a well-written piece portraying a sympathetic child with a mental aberration.  Unfortunately, it settles for cheap thrills rather than profound statements.

Three stars.  Maybe next time.

What's Up, Doc?

All told, this Asimovian issue is not one for the ages.  Part of the problem is the two newcomers are not stellar, and Asimov is a bit rusty.  That leaves just a couple of veterans to contribute comparatively good stories, and an old grognard to turn in…a typically unimpressive piece.

Perhaps Isaac deserves better than this.  Or perhaps, like a revue show featuring an over-the-hill performer, it's exactly what one would expect.

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[August 20, 1966] Looking forward, looking back (September 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Journeys to Come

We're now just a couple of weeks out from Tricon, the Cleveland-hosted Worldcon!  We'll get to mingle with our fellow fen, meet our favorite authors, drink lots of bheer, and figure out who gets to go home with a rocketship in their luggage.


Modern Cleveland

The much-ballyhooed new science fiction anthology, Star Trek, debuts on September 15.  However, all the fans are abuzz that they'll be privately showing the show's pilot at Tricon.  I hope you all will join us at Tricon to watch it!

Journeys we Have

As exciting as the things to come might be, we still have plenty of exciting stuff to enjoy right now.  To wit, this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction is quite a solid mag.


by Jack Gaughan

Luana, Gilbert Thomas

A mycologist (a real fun-gi) with a yen for sculpture combines both vocation and avocation when the latest Gemini brings home a space spore.  The resulting fruiting body proves warm, delicate, and eager to be carved.  The scientist does so, in the form that has occupied the efforts of sculptors since the Neolithic…with less than savory results.

A decade ago, this minor bit of titillation would have been fodder for Venture.  Cute but utterly forgettable.  Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Productions of Time (Part 2 of 2), John Brunner

Last month, the author had left us on a tremendous cliffhanger.  Murray Douglas, a washed out but on the wagon film star (viz. Kirk Douglas in Two Weeks in Another Town) has been increasingly unsettled by the goings on at his latest production.  The writer, Delgado, seems deadset on sabotaging the play before it can gel, setting each of the actors and production crew at each other's throats.  The country retreat at which they are staying is equipped with the oddest of surveillance equipment, from two-way TVs to mysterious tape recorders placed just under a sleeper's pillows.  When Douglas calls Delgado on his actions, he wakes up the next morning with a severe headache and surrounded by half empty bottles of gin…

He quickly realizes it's all a set-up, and he heads to a local doctor to certify his utter sobriety.  Bolstering his sanity is the arrival of an unexpected ally: Heather, a member of the cast whose only purpose seems to be to sate the Lesbian tastes of another of the actresses, has also determined something odd is going on.  Douglas makes up his mind.  They will leave the retreat on the morrow.  But Delgado, and the unusually assertive valet, Valentine, have other plans.

Thus ensues the climax and rather satisfactory (though somewhat given away by the title) ending of this exciting novel.  It's rather short, so I'll be surprised if it gets turned into a full-length story.  Maybe one half of an Ace Double.  Nevertheless, it's a nice departure for the oft-brilliant author, notable for being told largely in dialogue (as befits a piece about play!)

Four stars.

Mr. Wilde's Second Chance, Joanna Russ

When the great playwright/poet arrives in the hereafter, he is offered the chance to rearrange the events of his luminous life into a more pleasing order.  The reward is, perhaps, another life.  Mr. Wilde is at once successful and unsuccessful.

I suspect I would have gotten more out of this story had I been more acquainted with the subject's work.  It's a four-star story regardless.

Municipal Dump, Max Gunther

R.J. Schroon, a rapacious hotelier with designs to bend the would-be paradise world of Cooltropic to his whim.  If it only weren't for the omnipresent, ever-irksome Bounders!  Fed up with these meddling puffballs, Schroon calls for their extermination.  He manages to eliminate one, frightening off the rest. 

Out of the frying pan…

This one feels like a lesser (though competent) tale from the early days of Galaxy.  Three stars.

Narrow Valley, R. A. Lafferty

The Wizard of Whimsy offers up this tale of a Pawnee, who protects his 160-acre reparation grant with a mighty spell.  It's not that others can't find the plot to poach — they just can't seem to get in!

A fun if rather trivial piece.  Three stars.

I'm Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover, Isaac Asimov

In the conclusion to his articles on particles and cosmology, The Good Doctor offers up his own ideas on the origin of the universe.  In a nutshell, just as every subatomic particle seems to have both an opposite charged counterpart and a opposite baryon/lepton number, so the universe must have three counterparts so that the net value of energy and mass equals zero.  Add to this an 80 billion year boom and bust cycle, and one has a cosmos that requires no beginning or end, utterly symmetrical.

It's cute if nothing else.  And I'm banking on the nothing else.

Three stars.

Troubling of the Water, Zenna Henderson

Ms. Henderson has seemingly exhausted the modern day as a setting for her stories of The People.  The author is now recounting their first coming to Earth in the late 19th Century.  Water is a not-quite sequel to her last story.  A family in a Western territory (probably Henderson's native Arizona) finds their water supply dwindling below the sufficiency required for their crops.  On the eve of dessication, a member of The People, a race of gentle humanoid espers, literally falls from the sky in a ball of flame.

Zenna has told this story several times before: strange, gifted person (usually a child) is encountered/adopted by a human or group of humans.  Said alien eventually displays great powers to the benefit of the humans, and a bond of love is forged.

It's a testament to the author that the tale has not yet gotten old.  I do wonder if a collection of such stories (as is advertised as forthcoming) might be a bit much to take in one sitting, though.

Four stars.

Looking Back

In the end, the newest issue of F&SF breaks no new ground.  Indeed, had it been published in 1956 rather than 1966, I don't know that we'd have noticed (save for Asimov's piece, which relies on cutting edge science).  Still, it would have been one of the better issues of August 1956, just as it is one of the better amalgamations of SF in this month.

No complaints here!




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Serial

[July 20, 1966] An Endless Summer (August 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Surf's up!

My daughter and I are dyed-in-the-wool beach lovers.  We live just 10 miles from the shore, and now that Highway 78 is a real two-lane throughway, it's a snap to head down to Carlsbad for a jump in the waves.  I'm not a real surfer, mind you.  Water terrifies me.  But every year, I muster enough courage to try body surfing and belly boarding, and after the first wipe-out or two, it's "Cowabunga!" and fun for the rest of the afternoon.

We came back from our latest coastal excursion to pick up a viewing of The Endless Summer, a documentary of two Malibutians as they traveled around the world in pursuit of the perfect wave (which they find in the most improbable of places!) It's a great film, and highly recommended.

Hang Ten

I was in for a pleasant surprise when I got home.  According to Mike Moorcock, summer is when sf mags publish their worst stuff since readership is at its lowest.  I wasn't looking forward to this month's issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction, but aside from one dud, it actually turned out to be quite a decent book.


by Gray Morrow

The Productions of Time (Part 1 of 2), by John Brunner

Murray, a sauced-up actor on the wagon, is hired for a most unorthodox production by a most unorthodox producer, name of Delgado.  Murray is sequestered in a country inn with a number of other talented but problematic performers.  One has a heroin addiction.  Two are homosexuals.  One has a pornography habit.  Moreover, all of them have their weaknesses tempted: our hero keeps finding booze in his room (he angrily calls for its removal), the addict discovers a two ounce flask of horse in his, the obscenity-junky is well-supplied in copies of Fanny Hill and the like, etc. 

Things get even weirder when Murray discovers that all of the beds in the inn are wired with tape recorders.  When confronted, a testy Delgado says they're for hypno-learning, but the recorders don't have speakers!  The televisions are also strangely equipped with extra electronics, and they are wired to a central control system in a locked room.

The producer's eccentricities and the cast's friction notwithstanding, the troupe manage to put together a pretty good impromptu show.  Whereupon Delgado denigrates Murray's perfect performance and demands the whole thing be scrapped.  Is it part of his technique?  Or is the play never meant to be completed, part of a larger experiment.

This story feels very Leiberian, perhaps because of the subject matter.  It was slow to engage, but by the end, I was sorely disappointed that I'd have to wait a month to read the resolution.

Four stars thus far.


by Gahan Wilson

Matog, by Joan Patricia Basch

A contemporary of Paracelsus is retained by a local Baron to summon a demon.  He succeeds but is unaware of the deed as the fiend appears behind him.  For the duration of the creature's captivity on our plane, he is kept company by the summoner's charming young daughter, who has fallen for the Baron's son.

What ensues is an all's-well-that-ends-well tale involving a much-put-upon demon, whose reputation for evil and mischief is largely human ascribed (though not entirely), a thwarted romance, and a surprisingly effective set of veterinary medicines.

Fun fluff in a pleasantly archaic style.  Three stars.


by Ed Emshwiller

The Seven Wonders of the Universe, by Mose Mallette

Humans pierce the boundary between universes and find themselves in need of a travel brochure to encourage tourism.  This is that brochure.

One of the dumbest non-fact articles I've yet read and too obsessed with sex.  One star.

For the Love of Barbara Allen, by Robert E. Howard

This hitherto unpublished story is perhaps the last composed by the Conan creator before he killed himself.  It involves time travel, the Civil War, and enduring love.  Pleasant enough, though more interesting for the circumstances around its creation than its content.

Three stars.

Meteroid Collision, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas suggests in this science fact vignette that micrometeoroids be used to power spacecraft.  They'd hit a piezoelectric hull that would harness their intense energies.

Cute, but 1) I suspect the efficiency would be very low, and 2) there just aren't that many micrometeoroids.  Solar cells are cheaper, lighter, and work all the time.

Think harder, Ted.  Two stars.

Letter to a Tyrant King, by Bill Butler

Cute doggerel composed at the end of the Cretaceous, one dinosaur to another.  Three stars.

A Matter of Organization, by Frank Bequaert

A cog in the corporate machine ends up in a Hell that is all too familiar.  Can his cunning and bureaucratic prowess keep him from eternal torment?

A nice twist on the classic formula.  Three stars.

Near Thing, by Robin Scott

Expansionist aliens call off an impending invasion of Earth after encountering smog.

Silly, overdone, and eminently forgettable.  Two stars.

BB or Not BB, That Is the Question, by Isaac Asimov

I've been waiting for a good piece comparing the Steady State and Big Bang theories of cosmology, and The Good Doctor has delivered.  One of the best articles of the year from any source.

Five stars.

Come Lady Death, by Peter S. Beagle

Bookending this issue with quality is the first story I've read by Mr. Beagle (apparently a reprint from 1963).  A wizened socialite decides her swansong party shall include an invitation to Death.  The encounter is unusual in many ways.

I shan't spoil the plot as this lovely piece is worth reading.  Suffice it to say that the author has a light, compelling style, and I look forward to more fantastic works by him.

Four stars.

Back to Shore

That was pleasant.  Sure, there was a lot of mediocrity 'round the middle, but the take-off and landing were quite nice.  And there's every indication that next month's reading will be excellent: it will feature the second half of the Brunner novel and a new The People story by Zenna Henderson!

Here's to a nice long summer.




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Magazine/Anthology

[June 16, 1966] Calm Spots (July 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

4 Comments


by Gideon Marcus

Hot Times

Summer is looming, and it looks like we're in for another riot season.  I suppose it only stands to reason given that inequality still runs rampant in a nation ostensibly dedicated to equality.  This time, the outrage boiled over in Chicago, and the group involved was of Puerto Rican extraction.

Things started peacefully, even jubilantly: June 12 saw thousands gather for the Puerto Rican pride parade.  But after the festivities, the cops shot Cruz Aracelis, 21, and violence erupted.  For three days, police cars were overturned, property went up in flames, and people were hurt (and some died).  Despite the exhortations of the community's leaders, the rioting continued, and it was not until Mayor Daley promised much-needed reforms that the outbreaks lapsed, on June 15.

Tectonic shifts are rarely gradual. Similarly, we lurch toward progress with the accompanying devastation of an earthquake. Just as we're starting to build for seismic destruction in California, if we want to see riot summers a thing of the past, we'll need to build real systems for equality sooner rather than later.

Eye of the Storm

Chicago may burn, Kansas may be savaged by tornadoes, and Indonesia might be going to hell in a hand basket, but the latest Fantasy and Science Fiction is by comparison pretty mellow stuff.  Indeed, it's a pretty unremarkable issue even compared to recent issues of F&SF!  Still, there's good reading in here.  Take a break from the outside world's madness and join me:


by Chesley Bonestell

Founder's Day, by Keith Laumer

Retief author Keith Laumer departs from comedic satire for a reasonably straight story.  In a future borrowed from Harrison's Make Room! Make Room!, the only escape from Earth's 29 billion inhabitants is a five year journey in stasis to Alpha Centauri 3.  But what really lies at the end of a grueling journey that includes a savage boot camp and the stripping away of all humanity?

A competent piece, Founder's Day nevertheless is no more than that.  This story of friction between colonist and transport crew could have been set in 19th Century Australia as well as space.  Laumer doesn't really bring anything new, in concept or execution.

Three stars.

The Plot is the Thing, by Robert Bloch

Psycho author Robert Bloch doesn't do much fantasy these days, but his turns are always slickly done.  In this vignette, young heiress Peggy is the portrait of disassociation, abandoning reality for the Late Show, the Late Late Show, and the All Night Show — any program that will give her the horror flicks she craves.  But when drastic medical intervention rescues her at the brink of death, is it salvation, or merely the gateway to greater unreality?

No surprises but the usual excellent execution.

Four stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Experiment in Autobiography, by Ron Goulart

The best part of Goulart's latest story is the double-meaning in the title.  One gets the impression that the absurd lengths to which the protagonist, a free-lance writer, must go to collect his ghosting fee, is only slightly removed from reality.

Three stars for Goulart fans; knock one off for everyone else.

Brain Bank, by Ardrey Marshall

Sturm is a brilliant mathematician cut down in the prime of his life.  Too valuable to be left to molder, Sturm is brought back as a disembodied brain, forced to offer his expertise to all who request it: students, businessmen, colleagues.  He is a true slave with no human rights and the fear of being switched off perpetually hanging over him.  Especially when an old rival, now a tenured professor who made his reputation by stealing the work of his T.A.s and associates, becomes Sturm's latest client.

In setup, it's not unlike Calvin Demmon's vignette The Switch, which appeared in F&SF last year.  But the execution here is breezy, the story more of a potboiler.

I don't know if I buy the premise, but I can easily imagine a much put-upon sentient computer in the same situation.  The rather conventional adventure story overlies some thoughtful philosophy.

Three stars.

Man in the Sea, by Theodore L. Thomas

Is oxygenated water the solution to problems posed by deep sea diving?  What about direct oxygenization of blood?  Some neat ideas that I can't immediately poke holes in for once.

Four stars.

The Age of Invention, by Norman Spinrad

This flip piece posits that our current art culture, and the ease with which it is manipulated, is no new thing at all.  Indeed, it's been with us since we've been recognizably human.

Fun fluff.  Three stars.

Balancing the Books, by Isaac Asimov

The latest article from The Good Doctor is about conservation of charge and mass in the subatomic particles.  I suspect the material could have been covered in a piece as short as Thomas' column.  Padded to ten pages, it loses its punch.

Three stars.

Revolt of the Potato Picker, by Herb Lehrman

A spud farmer, one of the last dirt agriculturalists in a time of yeast and lichen hydroponics, buys a sentient tractor to do his harvesting.  All is well until the robot's sensitive side comes to the fore.  Instead of devoting its (her?) time to picking and peeling, all it (she?) wants to do is pursue artistic interests.

Meant to be a winking, nudging joke of a story, I found it both distasteful and also just kind of stupid.

Two stars.

The Manse of Iucounu, by Jack Vance

At last, the meanderings of Cugel the Clever come to a close.  Banished to the ends of the Dying Earth by Iucounu, the mage he was trying to rob, Cugel at last finds a way home with the treasure he was sent to find.  The key turns out to be a misadventure with sapient rats and a liaison with a sorcerer liberated from their clutches.

Like the rest of the series, it wobbles between wittily imaginative and routine, too episodic to really engage.  If anything, it feels like a modern day, rather adult Oz story.  With a thoroughly unpleasant though sometimes entertaining antihero.

Call it four stars for this entry and three and a half for the series as a whole.

Emerging from Solace

There are issues of F&SF that astound, leaving an indelible impression.  There have been others (not recently) that are better left to gather dust on the shelf (if not utilized for kindling next winter).  The July 1966 issue lies on neither extreme.  But if you find yourself wanting a quiet weekend away from the strife of the real world, this issue will be a fine companion.




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Magazine/Anthology

[May 20, 1966] Things to Come and Things that Are(June 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Future

Over in England, they're swimming in science fiction anthology-esque shows, from Out of the Unknown to Doctor Who.  What have we got Stateside?  Lost in Space?  My Favorite Martian?  Ever since The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone went off the air, TV has been something of an SF wasteland.  That may all be changing come Fall.

A new show, called Star Trek is supposed to be kind of an anthology/serial — the same crew every week, but wildly different stories, many by actual science fiction authors.  It could end up being like Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea or Forbidden Planet (i.e. pretty but dumb), or it could be the revolution necessary to bring science fiction to the masses.  We won't know for another four months.  I'm prepared for disappointment, but I also can't help being a little excited.

The Present

Until then, I've got a pocket full of futures right hear in front of me with this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction.  As usual, it's a grab-bag of good and ho-hum, the latter in greater proportion… but whaddaya want for four bits?

Dig it:


by Hector Castellon

This Moment of the Storm, by Roger Zelazny

Zelazny has made a name for himself with his fantastic but punchy prose, sort of an SFNal Hemingway, the vanguard of the American New Wave.  For me, he's hit or miss, though his hits are worth waiting for.  Storm looked like it was shaping up to be a hit, but I'd say it's a near miss.

Dozens of light years from Earth lies Tierra del Cygnus, a rustic "stopover" colony where folks on decades-long STL interstellar trips can break out of hibernation and stretch their legs before embarking for their final destination.  Our protagonist, Godfrey Justin Holmes, is a Hell Cop, responsible for civic peace and weather safety with his 130 floating, autonomous metal eyes.  He'd settled on Cygnus after fleeing a tragic personal loss, and on Cygnus, he believes he has found the key to mending his heart.

But in the midst of solving this long term problem, an acute short term one arises: the biggest storm his area of the planet has seen in recorded history is brewing.  And for a week, it lashes with unabated fury.

I have the same problem with Storm that I did with Keith Roberts' Lady Anne: I'll be reading right along, enjoying the evocative prose, but after a few pages, I find myself wondering, "What the hell is all this?  Get to the point, man!"  Pretty writing isn't enough.

Beyond that, Storm feels utterly conventional.  Take out the spaceflight trappings, which is easy to do as they are not central to the story, and you've got a thoroughly terrestrial story. 

It's not bad, mind you.  Zelazny does a masterful job of introducing the world and the relevant considerations in subtle snatches of detail rather than a single burst of exposition.  Others might also enjoy the blunt, first person perspective; I eventually found it a little tiresome and too reminiscent of the better …and call me Conrad.

So, a minor work from a major player.  Three stars.

The Little Blue Weeds of Spring, by Doris Pitkin Buck

A winged woman commits the horried crime of breeding outside her caste.  Her punishment is exile to ground-bound humandom on Earth.  But a plucked bird can still find ways to soar…

A nice poetic piece that's perhaps a bit too trivial.  Three stars.

Care in Captivity Series: Tyrant Lizards Tyrannosaurus Rex, by Barry Rothman

This is one of those non-fact pieces, in this case, about raising a tyrant lizard what had been frozen for 70 million years.  Very slight stuff.  Two stars.

The Adjusted, by Kenneth Bulmer

A pair of caretakers mind the last vestiges of humanity, locked in cages, fed porridge, clad in rags, but hypnotized to think they are leading fulfilling lives.  It's all part of the computers' plan, you see — a way of dealing with the hordes unemployed and pointless humans. They can't just be killed off, but they also can't be left to their own chaotic devices.

Of course, there's a sting in the story's tale, one that you'll see a mile away.  It's not very clever, at first, but there's something compelling about a world of humans under the thrall of machines, all living in a shared fantasy world, slave to some sinister but inscrutable purpose.

It might make an interesting movie someday.  Three stars.

Migratory Locusts, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas suggests that since locusts are just grasshoppers that get too crowded together, maybe humans will turn into something else altogether when Indian/Chinese conditions become the worldwide norm.  I suppose there's an SF story in there somewhere.  In this case, there's not enough here here to provoke much thought.

Two stars.

Memo to Secretary, by Pat de Graw

Pat de Graw offers up an ode to bureacratic paperwork, Stone Age style.  Nicely done, particularly the line about the wing/ed/itorial bull.

Four stars.

A Quest for Uplift, by Len Guttridge

A carny agent out looking for freaks in a world where access to health care has largely addressed unwanted deformity follows a tip that leads to a genetic lineage of true levitators.

Unfortunately, elevation turns out to be involuntary — and communicative.

Guttridge's narrator tells the story in an unbroken harangue that will glaze your eyes over by page three.  It also manages to be casually and offputtingly offensive several times over.

One star.

Forgive Us Our Debtors, by Jon DeCles

Ah, but then we have a rather sublime tale of an empath whose job is planetary evaluation.  On the world of Red Kitra (a fine name), said empath is tasked with attuning to a world's entire ecology to determine if the glimmer of sentience lies therein.  He ends up in a literal and metaphorical web of karma, learning the value of life, as well as the meaning of charity, in the process.

I may be a little biased as I happen to be friends with Jon, but I think this is inarguably the best piece of the issue.  Four stars.

The Isles of Earth, by Isaac Asimov

Another list article from Dr. A, this time on the size and distribution of Earth's islands.  Diverting, I suppose, but nothing you won't find at the beginning of any decent atlas (of which I have about two dozen — I like atlases!)

Three stars.

The Pilgrims, by Jack Vance

We wrap up with the penultimate tale of the ordeals of Cugel the Clever, hapless magical errand boy in the far future setting of The Dying Earth.  As related in prior episodes, this is a set of stories that gets less appealing as it goes on, though Vance does mix in some amusing literate ribaldry.

This particular installment doesn't even have a proper ending.  Let's hope the series as a whole does.

Three stars.

The Edge of Tomorrow

All told, the latest F&SF merits a drab 2.9 stars, definitely one of the weaker entries of the past year.  But every month offers a chance at redemption, and the next issue is only a few weeks away.  Will the July issue offer a collection of immortal classics or more of the humdrum same?

The anticipation, waiting to find out, is half the fun!

While you're waiting, tune in to KGJ, our radio station!  Nothing but the newest and best hits!




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