Tag Archives: fritz leiber

[June 18, 1963] Eastbound for Adventure! (July 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Galactic Journey approaches the completion of its fifth year in publication, and we delight in the increasing variety of travels we've been able to share with you.  We started with science fiction digests and real-life space shots, expanded our coverage to movies and television, and then dove whole-hog into all aspects of culture, including music, politics, and fashion.  We even broadened our geographic scope, with British correspondents Ashley Pollard and Mark Yon, and our newest teammember, Cora Buhlert from West Germany.

One constant throughout, dating back to our third article, is the coverage of physical journeys of the Traveler family.  And so we tread familiar ground in two respects as the Journey reports for its fourth time from the near-mythical land of Wa, the country of Japan.

We touched down the afternoon of June 10 after a long but thoroughly pleasant trip across the Pacific in first class.  Leigh Brackett was my traveling companion, though the conversation was strictly one-way.

The next day, we took a quick flight from Tokyo to the industrial city of Nagoya, third biggest in the nation.  Renowned for its drab ugliness, nevertheless we like it, not for the least reason the presence of three good friends — one native and two transplants. 

After a delicious lunch, we all gathered in the hotel room and performed music together (Nanami and the Young Traveler are both accomplished ukelele-players). 

We had just one full day after that in Nagoya, and we used the time to good advantage, exploring the many shopping and dining options.  Despite June being monsoon month in Japan, rain was sparse and the temperature reasonable (though the humidity rivaled that of pre-Mariner Venus…)

For the last five days, we have been back in the nation's capital.  Tokyo is a city in transition, busily preparing for the Olympics next year.  In addition to the remodeling of the Shibuya district, work is being completed on the new bullet train that will reduce the trip from Osaka to Tokyo (about the same distance as Los Angeles to San Francisco) to just three hours.  Would have been nice on our trip this time around…

My primary destination this time around was Jimbouchou — Bookseller's Row — where dozens of bookstores crowd a cluster of avenues.  I've never seen so many volumes crowded together in one place!  However, the subject matter tended to be rather dry and abstruse at most of the places, and I made most of my scavenging finds at the second-hand shops around the various universities. 

As for the rest of the time, we shopped, we dined, and we walked…endlessly.  More than five miles every day. 

One "highlight" of the trip was the chance to watch King Kong vs. Godzilla in the cinema.  There will be a report.

I also found time to enjoy to enjoy the July 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction, the fourth issue of this venerable magazine I've read in Japan.  How did this set of excursions compare to the real-life adventure I am currently enjoying?  Read on and find out!

Glory Road (Part 1 of 3), by Robert A. Heinlein

Most of the issue is taken up by the first half of Heinlein's latest novel.  Evelyn Cyril "Oscar" Gordon is a remarkable young man plagued by hard luck: a skilled athlete saddled with a losing team; an abortive engineering student sent to fight (and grievously wounded) in Vietnam; a winner of the Irish Derby sweepstakes whose ticket turns out to be counterfeit.  Things look up when he answers this classified ad, tailor-made for him:

"ARE YOU A COWARD? This is not for you. We badly need a brave man. He must be 23 to 25 years old, in perfect health, at least six feet tall, weigh about 190 pounds, fluent English, with some French, proficient in all weapons, some knowledge of engineering and mathematics essential, willing to travel, no family or emotional ties, indomitably courageous and handsome of face and figure. Permanent employment, very high pay, glorious adventure, great danger. You must apply in person, rue Dante, Nice, 2me étage, apt. D."

Gordon's employer is the unearthily beautiful "Star," part Amazon, part Fae.  Along with her aged but capable assistant, Rufo, the trio head off into a fantastic dimension on an errand whose purpose is known only to the mysterious magical lady.  There, they run into golems, explosive swamps, easily offended hosts, and many other dangers.

Glory Road is Heinlein's answer to Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions, and the closesness with which it hews to the predecessor only highlights its inferiority.  Anderson's tale was fun and subtle, his characters well-realized.  Heinlein, as we saw in his last book, Podkayne of Mars, can't seem to portray anyone but Heinlein these days.  When Oscar and Star start mooning at each other, it's like watching old Bob seduce himself. 

I did enjoy the first 30 pages or so, detailing Gordon's pre-adventure life, however, and there are moments of interest along the way.  But if you're looking for the next Starship Troopers or The Menace from Earth, this likely won't be it.  Three stars.

Success, by Fritz Leiber

The creator of Fahfrd and the Grey Mouser offers up this fantasy vignette, a distillation of the genre in four pages.  Is it satire?  Parody?  Or the only fantastic story you'll ever need to read?  Vividly written but inconsequential.  Three stars.

The Respondents, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Pretty words from one of F&SF's resident poets.  Three stars.

With These Hands, by Kenneth Smith

The first SF publication by this college freshman, this is a tale of an artless alien (both descriptors used literally) unable to contribute to Earth's cultural beauty despite his desperate admiration.  It starts off strong, but the ending is a bit talkie and mawkish.  Nevertheless, three stars, and let's see some more!

The Isaac Winners, by Isaac Asimov

A rather lackluster piece this month, just a list of the top 72 scientists in human history.  The best part of the article is Asimov's justification for the trophy's name (after Newton, of course!) Three stars.

As Long as You're Here, by Will Stanton

F&SF perennial, Stanton, gives us a both charming and chilling tale about a couple that digs a deep shelter to avoid the hell of nuclear annihilation only to find Old Nick digging upwards to expand his domain in similar anticipation.  It stayed with me.  Four stars.

McNamara's Fish, by Ron Goulart

Max Kearny, spiritual private eye, is consulted individually by both members of a married couple, who both fear the other partner is being unfaithful.  Is something fishy going on?  Yes!  Indeed, in this case, the troubles stem from the meddling of a venal water elemental.  Goulart's Kearny tales are always glib and enjoyable, though this one is less substantial than most.  Three stars.

Thus ends a pleasant but not superlative issue of F&SF, an issue more notable for the environs in which it was read (on a rock under a waterfall near a shrine; in the lounge of a fancy Nagoya hotel; on a train traveling in the shadow of Mt. Fuji) than its contents. 

See you in two days when I discuss the most amazing events happening just a few hundred miles over our heads as we speak…




[June 16, 1963] Blues for a Red Planet (August 1963 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

The planet Mars and its inhabitants have long been favorite themes for science fiction writers, from The War of the Worlds to The Martian Chronicles.  Will the age of space travel put an end to our wildest fancies about that alluring world?

The Soviet spacecraft intended to study Mars have all failed.  NASA's Mariner program, so successful in studying Venus, is not scheduled to turn its attention to Mars until next year.  Because the red planet is still something of a mystery, authors are free to use their imagination for a while yet. They may create a world where humans can live, or depict Martian canals and the civilization that created them.

The third issue of Worlds of Tomorrow upholds this tradition, with the first section of a major new novel set on Mars.

All We Marsmen (Part 1 of 3), by Philip K. Dick

The latest work from the author of last year's critically acclaimed alternate history novel The Man in the High Castle (which got only a mixed review from our esteemed host) is set on a traditional version of Mars.  There are humanoid Martians (called Bleekmen), although they are a dying people.  There are canals, although they are in a poor state of repair.  Humans can survive on the planet, but only under harsh conditions.

By the end of this century, human colonies exist on Mars.  Founded by Earth countries, businesses, or labor unions, they are under the control of the United Nations.  Against this background, the reader is introduced to several characters.

Silvia Bohlen is a housewife and mother.  She takes barbiturates to sleep and amphetamines to wake up.  Her husband Jack is a repairman.  While flying out on an assignment to fix a refrigeration unit, he gets a call from the UN to aid a group of Bleekmen dying of thirst.  During this errand of mercy he meets Arnie Kott, head of an important union, whose own helicopter flight has been interrupted by the emergency.  Kott despises the Bleekmen, and argues with Jack about the need to help them.  Despite this disagreement, he comes to respect Jack's skill, and hires him for an important repair.  In a flashback sequence, we learn that Jack came to Mars after an episode of schizophrenia.

Norbert Steiner and his family live next to the Bohlens.  He works as a health food manufacturer, and secretly imports forbidden luxury foods from Earth.  His son Manfred is severely autistic, and lives at a special facility for children with mental or physical disabilities.  A shocking event involving Steiner leads to a crisis for his family and his neighbors.

There are many other characters I haven't mentioned and multiple subplots.  It's not yet clear what direction this novel is going.  There are hints that schizophrenics and autistics have precognitive abilities, and I believe this will be a major theme.

Some readers may be dismayed by the lack of a simple, linear plot.  Others will find the novel depressing, as so many of its characters are unhappy with their lives.  The picture it paints of a Mars inhabited by a large number of humans by the 1990's is likely to seem unrealistic.  However, the author appears to have created a complex, serious work of literature, worthy of careful reading.  Four stars.

A Hitch in Space, by Fritz Leiber

In a distant solar system, two men are aboard a spaceship on a routine mission.  One of the men develops a bizarre psychosis.  He imagines that his partner, the narrator, is really two people.  When he's around, he calls him Joe, and thinks of him as a hero.  When he's gone, he speaks to the imaginary Joseph, and insults him.  The narrator puts up with this weird delusion, but when he goes outside the ship, the situation becomes dangerous.

This story combines psychological drama with a technological puzzle that could have appeared in the pages of Analog.  As you'd expect from this author, it's very well written.  The situation is interesting, if somewhat artificial.  Three stars.

To the Stars, by J. T. McIntosh

A manufacturer of starships is blackmailed, on the basis that his ships are more dangerous than others.  He disposes of this threat easily enough, with evidence that they cause no more deaths than any other ships.  What is kept secret, however, is the fact that his ships are vulnerable at a particular moment during their time of use.  When his daughter leaves on her honeymoon aboard one of his ships during this hazardous time, he takes measures to prevent a possible disaster.

I found the plot of this story contrived and inconsistent.  The female characters are more fully realized than usual for this author.  Unfortunately, the effect is ruined by an irrelevant paragraph explaining that women will never be equal to men in the business world, even two centuries from now.  The reasons given are "women never trusted women" and "women didn't really want equality."  Two stars.

The New Science of Space Speech, by Vincent H. Gaddis

This article discusses research into ways to communicate with extraterrestrials.  It covers a lot of ground, from radio telescopes to dolphins, and from artificial languages based on mathematics to unexplained radio echoes.  Some of this material is interesting, but the author covers too many subjects in a short space to do more than offer a taste of them.  Two stars.

A Jury of Its Peers, by Daniel Keyes

A professor of physics invents a small computer that has consciousness.  During a lecture he tells the students that the computer can think, forgetting that the state has passed a law against making such a claim in the classroom.  A trial follows, with the computer itself called as a witness.

This scenario is clearly based on the famous Scopes Trial of 1925, which tested the law against teaching human evolution in Tennessee schools.  Ironically, the law against teaching machine intelligence is in New Jersey, and the lawyer defending the professor is from Tennessee.

If this were merely an allegory for academic freedom, the story would be only moderately effective.  However, the author has more in mind.  The professor must face his own limitations, as well as those of the computer, when it gives its testimony.  Although not the masterpiece one might expect from the creator of Flowers for Algernon [If he had a nickel for every time a reviewer said this…(Ed.)], this is a fine story with depth of characterization.  Four stars.

The Impossible Star, by Brian W. Aldiss

Four astronauts explore the region of space beyond the Crab Nebula.  A problem with their spaceship strands them on a small, rocky planetoid near a star of such immense mass that not even light can escape from it.  (This may seem fantastic, but in recent years physicists have speculated that an object of sufficient size could produce a gravitation pull so strong that this could happen.) The men struggle with the bizarre effects of the black star.  The stress of their situation soon has them at each other's throats.  The concept is an interesting one.  Even in an issue full of downbeat stories, this is a particularly bleak tale.  Three stars.

Until the Mariner project takes away our dreams of glittering Martian cities, rising from ruby sands along emerald canals, let's keep reading about that fascinating world in the pages of our Earthling magazines.




[April 23, 1963] Double, Double (May 1963 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

It might be my imagination, but it seems that events came in pairs this month. 

On April Fools' Day, two new medical soap operas premiered on American television.  I'm not fond of that genre – give me Route 66 or Alfred Hitchcock Presents when I want something other than science fiction and fantasy – so I don't know if General Hospital or The Doctors will catch on.


Can you tell which one is which?

A pair of accidents involving nuclear submarines happened only two days apart.  On April 10, the United States vessel Thresher sank, with the loss of all aboard.

More fortunate was the Soviet submarine K-33, which collided with the Finnish merchant ship Finnclipper on April 12.  Although severely damaged, both vessels managed to reach port safely.

Remaining at the top of the American music charts for double the number of weeks of most hit songs, He's So Fine by the Chiffons filled the airwaves with its memorable background chant doo-lang doo-lang doo-lang.

Appropriately, the latest issue of Fantastic contains stories that fall into pairs, as well as a hidden doubling of two authors.

Devils in the Walls, by John Jakes

The magazine opens with a pair of sword-and-sorcery stories.  The first is the more traditional of the two.  A mighty barbarian, who will remind you of Conan, falls victim to slave traders.  A beautiful woman purchases him.  If he will venture into the haunted ruins of her father's castle to retrieve a great treasure, she will set him free.  He must overcame natural and unnatural menaces to win his freedom.  It moves briskly, and there are some good descriptions, but it is a typical fantasy adventure.  Three stars.

The Cloud of Hate, by Fritz Leiber

The creator of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser relates another tale of this pair.  A supernatural mist made out of hate possesses four of the worst murderers in the magical city of Lankhmar.  The two adventurers must use all their skill to defeat them.  Although this is not the most important incident in the lives of the daring duo, the author adds style, wit, and imagination to the genre.  Four stars.

The Message, by Edward Wellen

In ancient China, a naked man with green skin appears out of nowhere.  A woodcutter takes the man into his hut and educates him.  Eventually he becomes one of the most important persons in the land, and is responsible for some of the great events in Chinese history.  The reasons for his actions are unexpected.  This is mostly a work of historical fiction, with a touch of speculative content.  Although not without interest, I thought it was a bit too long.  Three stars.

Threshold of the Prophet, by Roger Zelazny

A man named Crane appears from nowhere (another doubled theme of this issue) in New York in the far future.  The Brooklyn Bridge is destroyed and falls into the Hudson River.  Crane, who seems to have god-like powers, retrieves it and tries to sell it to an old man in the country.  Without the story's literary allusions (clarified by the editorial introduction), it would be meaningless.  Two stars.

Anything for Laughs, by Ron Goulart

The first of a pair of comedies in this issue is about an unemployed man who is pressured by his girlfriend into entering a job lottery.  He winds up as a court jester on a planet ruled by a dictatorship.  Somebody uses his name on revolutionary pamphlets, and his troubles begin.  Some readers may find this more amusing than I did.  Two stars.

One False Step, by David R. Bunch

A specialist in dystopia offers a grim tale of a man who made one mistake.  His job was a gruesome one.  When he fails at it, his punishment involves tending metallic plants, one of the many unpleasant aspects of this bleak future world.  This story will not be to the taste of all readers, but I found it powerful.  Four stars.

The Screams of the Wergs, by Jay Scotland


John Jakes is the first of two repeated authors in this issue, both hiding under pseudonyms containing the names of nations.  Extraterrestrials experience extreme pain when tourists take flash photographs of them.  A human who tries to protect them goes to extreme lengths.  It turns out that things are not what they seem.  This science fiction story never grabbed me.  Two stars.

Monologue for Two, by Harrison Denmark

As readers of Cele Goldsmith's pair of magazines know by now, this author is really Roger Zelazny.  Only two pages long, this story offers one side of a conversation.  Through it we see a man who suffered at the hands of another obtain great power, and win his revenge.  It's an effective narrative gimmick.  Four stars.

Professor Jonkin's Cannibal Plant, by Howard R. Garis

The second comic story in the magazine is a reprint from the August 1905 issue of Argosy.  A scientist greatly increases the size of an insect-eating plant by feeding it large pieces of meat.  As you might imagine, this is a bad idea.  Nothing surprising happens, and it's not particularly funny.  Two stars.

Love Story, by Laurence M. Janifer

This is a satiric story that begins as light comedy, but turns into something quite different at the end.  A man who truly loves other people causes the Earth to rotate in only four hours.  A scientist, frustrated by his failure to find a rational explanation for this phenomenon, solves the problem in the most direct way possible.  The last two paragraphs makes the reader reconsider the author's intention.  Three stars.

Do all these pairs double your pleasure and double your fun?  More importantly, do they justify the magazine's new price of fifty cents?  Maybe you should enjoy a stick of gum while you consider these questions.




[March 22, 1963] Return Engagements (April 1963 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Those of us who are book addicts like to keep track of what's going on in the literary world.  One way to do this is to turn to the New York Times best seller list.  Unfortunately, strikers shut down the city's newspapers in December, preventing us from getting our weekly fix.

We can now breathe a sigh of relief.  The strike is settling down.  The list, which was unavailable from the middle of December until the beginning of March, has returned.  The near-future thriller Seven Days in May by Fletcher Knebel and Charles W. Bailey II, which ended the truncated year at the top of the list, kept that position at the start of this month. 

It was encouraging to see a science fiction novel (even if it wasn't labeled as such) reach number one.  (It has since been replaced by a slim volume containing J. D. Salinger's two novellas Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction.  They may not be SF, but they're definitely worth reading.)

The Mona Lisa returned to the Louvre this month.  No doubt the French missed their great art treasure as much as New Yorkers did their newspapers.

A less welcome return, as least to my taste, was the Four Seasons to the top of the music charts with their third number one hit, Walk Like a Man.

Fittingly, the latest issue of Fantastic features the return of many names closely associated with the magazine, as well as authors returning to universes they created.

Some Fabulous Yonder, by Philip José Farmer

Frank Bruno's cover art depicts one of the bizarre creatures encountered in this space adventure.  The author revisits the setting of his tales about criminal-turned-priest John Carmody, which have appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction in recent years.  Carmody is mentioned in passing in this story, but does not take an active role in the plot.  Instead, the protagonist is the government agent who pursued him.  In this story, he turns his attention to another master criminal, a pirate who steals a starship, killing everyone aboard.  His intent is to invade a planet thought to be impossible to conquer.  The story begins as a hardboiled detective yarn, but soon becomes much stranger when the secrets of the planet emerge.  The breakneck pace of this story may leave the reader breathless, even if the plot twists seem arbitrary.  It all leads up to a scene revealing the immensity of time and space.  This wild ride is never boring, at least.  Three stars.

The Malatesta Collection, by Roger Zelazny

A young author who has already appeared in the pages of editor Cele Goldsmith's magazines several times returns with a tale set long after an atomic war.  The new civilization that rises from the ashes is a prim and proper one.  This causes a problem when scholars discover an ancient fallout shelter filled with erotic literature.  The ensuing conflict leads to a symbolic gesture by a rebellious artist.  This is an intriguing story, which can be seen as an allegory about censorship.  Four stars.

A Fate Worse Than . . ., by Robert H. Rohrer

Another new writer familiar to readers of Amazing and Fantastic, although not as prolific, returns with a very different post-atomic story.  It seems that Satanists dug themselves into the Earth in search of Hell, and thus were the only survivors of a nuclear war.  The result is a society in which church services are black masses.  The protagonist is a fellow who secretly summons an angel, the way a magician might summon a demon in our world.  This interesting premise, which could have led to enjoyable satire, is wasted on a familiar story of being careful what you wish for.  Two stars.

The Casket-Demon, by Fritz Leiber

One of the great names in fantastic fiction returns to the magazine that restarted his career with an unusual tale of magic and the movies.  A glamorous film star literally fades away, due to lack of publicity.  Weighing only a few pounds, and so attenuated that she becomes translucent, she turns to an ancient family curse.  By releasing a malevolent creature from inside a small box, she hopes to return to the headlines, even though she knows the price will be a very high one.  This offbeat story combines horror, satire, and whimsical fantasy into a tasty stew.  Four stars.

Survival Packages, by David R. Bunch

A writer that some readers love to hate also returns in this issue.  He revisits Moderan, his dystopic future where survivors of an atomic holocaust have bodies that are mostly metal.  They live in fortresses and make endless war on each other.  Into this terrible world come time capsules, buried long ago and forgotten, brought from underground by robots.  Their contents are disturbing.  The author's style is not as eccentric as usual in this story, and it carries a powerful impact.  Four stars.

A Thing of Terrible Beauty, by Harrison Denmark

Rumor has it that this unknown name is actually a disguise for Roger Zelazny, making his second appearance in the issue.  The style certainly seems like his.  In any case, the narrator is an immaterial alien mind that inhabits the brain of a drama critic.  The man becomes aware of his uninvited visitor.  The alien makes an unexpected revelation.  This is an effective mood piece, if more of an anecdote than a fully developed story.  Three stars.

Rain Magic, by Erle Stanley Gardner

The famous creator of Perry Mason returns with the third of his old pulp stories to be reprinted as so-called fantasy classics.  This fast-paced adventure story first appeared in the October 20, 1928 issue of Argosy.

An old man, passed out in the desert, relates his weird experiences in Africa.  After a shipwreck, he abandons his vessel and is taken in by the local inhabitants.  Among the many dangers he faces are bloodsucking bats, a hostile monkey-man, warring tribes, and man-eating ants.  The action never lets up for a second.  An interesting preface by the author states that the story is based on what he was told by an elderly fellow he met in the desert.  Whatever the truth of this may be, the reader is never bored.  (As in any pulp yarn from the time, there's an unpleasant trace of racism.  The narrator mentions the superiority of the white race, but at least he's somewhat skeptical about it.  He also falls in love with an African woman, which would still raise some eyebrows in this segregated nation of ours.  The story is much less offensive than many others of its kind.) Three stars.

Possible to Rue, by Piers Anthony

Finishing the issue is this light comedy, the author's first published work.  A wealthy man offers to buy his son a pet of any kind.  The boy requests a flying horse, then a unicorn.  The man goes to the encyclopedia to prove they do not exist.  When he asks for mundane animals, the unexpected happens.  This is a clever little bagatelle, likely to amuse.  Three stars.

If the magazine continues to offer stories of good quality, I'll be sure to return to it many times. 

[Speaking of returns, don't miss the next article, about the newest harvest of scientific discoveries from our satellites!]




[March 18, 1963] The Missing Piece (April 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

In prior articles, the latest news has headlined and set the stage for the SFnal reviews that followed.  This week, however, the news is all internal, filled with tidbits like

"YOUNG TRAVELER LEADS ACADEMIC LEAGUE TO DISTRICT CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

and

"FIVE YEARS OF R&D CULMINATES IN PRODUCT LAUNCH FOR TRAVELER-HELMED COMPANY!"

And yet, amongst the turmoil created by Mundac the Destroyer, we manage to continue the Journey — our most prized endeavor.  It helps that we now have a tremendous constellation of volunteer writers, allowing us to return to a every-other-day schedule for the first time in four years.  Still, I must do my part.

And so, amidst preparations for the Young Traveler's birthday party, I carved out time to read the April Fantasy and Science Fiction.  It is the inverse of last month's, which was forgettable or worse — until the last story.  This month's is surprisingly good… except for the last few stories.  A fair exchange, I think…

Fast Trip, by James White

Fritz Leiber recently wrote about how computers will soon be advanced enough to beat the best humans at chess in The 64-Square Madhouse.  Anne McCaffrey has written a tale of human brains cybernetically fused computers to control spaceships (The Ship Who Sang).  Now, returns my favorite SF-writing Ulsterian with his own spin on things.  In Fast Trip, we see what happens in a world where pilots are exclusively trained on their own spaceship, for whom swapping craft is as uncomfortable as swapping right-handed gloves with a fellow half your size… and with two left hands.  A good technical thriller.  Four stars.

Still Shall the Lovers, by Doris Pitkin Buck

A poem on how real stars shall always pale in brilliance to those in new lovers' eyes.  Three stars.

Place of Refuge, by Robert J. Tilley

A quick quality dip as Bristolian Tilley writes of the real world as if it be the nightmare, and vice versa.  Uninspired.  Two stars.

The Short and Happy Death of George Frumkin, by Gertrude Friedberg

A playwright, herself, Friedberg turns her hand to a Moderan-esque tale in which a nonagenarian playwright with an electric heart enjoys a brief flash of youthful energy when he's taken off batteries and plugged into the house line.  It's cute.  Three stars.

The Rigid Vacuum, by Isaac Asimov

There are few compound words I like better than "Luminiferous Ether," and fewer people I'd ask to explain this light-conveying substance than The Good Doctor Asimov.  Four stars for the first half of what looks to be a Two Parter.

Tell Me, Doctor – Please, by Kit Reed

Ms. Reed has recently moved and left no forwarding address, sadly terminating our burgeoning correspondence.  As a result, I have no authorial insight for this tale.  Nevertheless, Doctor is a strange and moving piece on dependence and torture as operatives of an evil state attempt to extract the secret of time travel from a bedridden exile from the future.  Difficult to read, and the ending is a strange Matryoshka that I'm still not sure I understood.  But like so much of Reed's stuff, it grips.  Four stars.

Kindergarten, by Fritz Leiber

A straightforward piece on learning the basic X-Y-Zs in a most unusual (and yet, the most commonplace) of settings.  Four stars.

The Voyage of the "Deborah Pratt", by Miriam Allen deFord

F&SF, more than any other SFF digest, is a haven for ghost stories.  This one, involving a 19th Century brig on the Gold Coast run, makes no great advances in plot.  Ah, but the telling, and the subject matter (far more horrific than the fantastic elements), are superb.  Five stars, and sure to be anthologized many times.

The Old Man of the Mountains, by Terry Carr

Over time, certain names in our genre incite a Pavlovian response in me.  For instance, Sheckley provokes a grin.  Garrett incites nausea.  Carr, a newish writer and long-time Big Name Fan, definitely brings about positive reactions, having now impressed me several times in rapid succession.  This pastoral piece, set in the mountains of Oregon, features the reunion of a country-turned-city boy, and the ornery cuss who knew his uncle many years before.  Like the deFord, the quality is in the telling.  Four stars.

My Son, the Physicist! by Isaac Asimov

Here's an inconsequential short-short from a fellow who has mostly abandoned science fiction.  I understand Asimov got a princely per-word sum for this piece, and it was used to adorn an advertisement for Hoffman Electronics in one of last year's Scientific Americans.  Three stars.

The World Must Never Know, by G. C. Edmondson

I really want to like Edmondson, a fellow San Diegan and one of the few non-Whites who has made it into the ranks of the SFF genre (he's Mexican).  But this latest in the series of stories set South of the Border, guest-starring a Mestizo who met an extraterrestrial policeman (to the former's profit, and the latter's dismay), is just too affected.  Two stars.

The Histronaut, by Paul Seabury

I didn't think I'd ever meet a time travel/alternate history story I didn't like, but Seabury managed to produce one.  One page of story preceded by many pages of dithering and nonsense.  And that single page isn't worth the wait.  One star.

Not Counting Bridges, by Robert L. Fish

Finally, a piece on the growing footprint of space devoted to the transit, maintenance, and storage of motor vehicles.  Two stars, careening toward one had it been longer than two pages.

That's a pretty sour note to leave a magazine that still scored a decent 3.2 stars on the Galacto-Meter.  If you stop before the Edmonson, I think you'll find your time thoroughly rewarded.

Speaking of which, I'm now off to jump on the giant trampoline we rented for the birthday party.  If I spot any X-15s on the way down, I'll be sure to snap a photo…




[February 20, 1963] A merry chase (March 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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


by Gideon Marcus

If you've been reading the papers this week, you've no doubt been avidly following the improbable trip of the Anzoategui.  This Venezuelan freighter was hijacked by Communist dissidents who wanted to embarrass Venezuelan prime minister Betancourt such that he wouldn't visit the United States.  Several navies chased the purloined vessel as it steamed 'round the eastern hump of South America, ultimately finding sanctuary in Brazil.

The editorial helm of F&SF was recently taken over by Avram Davidson, and like the poor freighter, the magazine has been a captive to its new master and his whims.  Quality has declined steeply, and were it not for Asimov's article and the excellent tale at the end, this issue would barely be fit to warm a stove.

But, those two pieces are the saving grace of the March 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction

Seven Day's Wonder, by Edward Wellen

This un-shocking tale of an electric New Testament missionary will fail to galvanize you, either with its ponderous pace or its puny puns.  Honestly, this is the sort of thing Avram Davidson (now F&SF's editor) used to make work.  Sadly neither Wellen nor Davidson are Davidson anymore.  Two stars.

The Day After Saturation, by D. K. Findlay

If overpopulation compel us to settle the seas, is de-evolution toward our aquatic ancestry the next inevitable phase?  Probably not, and this, Findlay's first work, is overwrought.  Two stars.

The Sky of Space, by Karen Anderson

Not a bad poem on the changing understanding but unchanging characteristics of outer space.  Three stars.

The Question, by Donald E. Westlake and Laurence M. Janifer

Hot enough for you?  Be careful what you take for granted.  It might just disappear.  Three stars.

The Importance of Being Important, by Calvin Demmon

Second in a matched pair on solipsism (also from a new author), it explores the perfect life of a fellow whose existence is merely another's convenience.  Pointless.  Two stars.

The Journey of Ten Thousand Miles, by Will Mohler

It's the end of the world, and Tyson St. J Tyson III desperately wants to leave his tomb of a house and go on a sea cruise — only the sea isn't there anymore.  Three pages of a story inflated five-fold to no one's profit.  One star.

Captain Honario Harpplayer, R.N., by Harry Harrison

Overblown, unfunny pastiche of C. S. Foreseter's work.  I've often said that I have trouble distinguishing Harrison and Laumer, but Laumer is funnier when he tries.  1 star.

Game for Motel Room, by Fritz Leiber

When a three-brained, too-silky centenarian beauty with a homicidal husband comes a flirtin', best you send her packing sooner rather than later.  Decently written, but disturbing and kind of dumb.  Two stars.

You, Too, Can Speak Gaelic, by Isaac Asimov

I love pieces on etymology, and the Good Doctor does a fine job of explaining the (not) Celtic roots of para-dimethylaminobenzaldehyde.  Four stars.

Zack With His Scar, by Sydney Van Scyoc

When the world of the future is perfect, the only imperfect thing…is you.  And the only therapy is being saddled with someone worse.  I don't know that I liked this story, but I found it interesting.  Three stars.

Hunter, Come Home, by Richard McKenna

I put off reading the final novelette for days, given how lackluster the rest of the issue had been.  But this story makes up for them all.  It's sort of a cross between Deathworld and Hothouse — a planet with a single, planet-spanning and omnivariate lifeform is under attack by a group of rapacious colonists bent on scouring the native biome and replacing it with terrestrial plants and animals.  The rationale of the invaders is plausible (if distasteful), the depiction of the native life is profound, and the characterization is superb.  Five stars.

And there you have it.  Mediocrity and downright lousiness followed by a burst of talent.  Let's hope Asimov and McKenna don't disembark at Brazil, never to be seen again…

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




[February 15, 1963] New Kid in Town (April 1963 Worlds of Tomorrow)

[If you're in in Southern California, you can see the Journey LIVE at Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore in San Diego, 2 p.m. on February 17!]


by Victoria Silverwolf

Frederik Pohl must not be busy enough editing Galaxy and If.  Now he's added another bimonthly magazine to his roster with the appearance of the first issue of Worlds of Tomorrow.

There hasn't been a new American science fiction magazine on the newsstands for about five years, and none of them survived for very long.  (Anybody remember Saturn?) It's been more than a decade since any magazine of SF which is still published in the USA was launched.  If and Fantastic are the most recent success stories. 
Given the death of so many periodicals in the field over the last ten years, the publishers are taking a risk.  Let's take a look at the contents of the premiere issue and see if the quality of fiction justifies their hazardous venture.

People of the Sea (Part 1 of 2) , by Arthur C. Clarke

The magazine begins in fine form with a new novel from this talented British writer.  Set in the middle of the next century, it follows the adventures of a teenage boy as he stows away on a hovercraft bound for Australia.  Barely surviving the sinking of the vessel, he winds up on a small island near the Great Barrier Reef.  He encounters scientists who can communicate with dolphins, and plays an important part in their project.  The first section of this installment is full of fast-paced action.  The second section is mostly a travelogue of this part of the Pacific.  However, the reader's interest never fades, because the author's descriptions are always fascinating.  Clarke obviously knows and loves the Great Barrier Reef, and he writes about the sea as compellingly as he does about space.  One minor quibble is the fact that this novel seems intended for younger readers.  Much like Heinlein's so-called juveniles, it is likely that adults will enjoy it as well.  Four stars.

X Marks the Pedwalk, by Fritz Leiber
This is a brief account of a future war between pedestrians and drivers.  The government steps in to keep the level of violence within certain limits.  Although Leiber is incapable of writing a bad sentence, it's a very minor piece.  Two stars.

The Long Remembered Thunder, by Keith Laumer

A government agent investigates a mysterious transmission coming from a small town.  It involves a recluse who is nearly a century old and the woman he loved at the turn of the century.  The story begins as a realistic tale of intrigue, but eventually becomes an account of a vast conflict across dimensions.  It held my interest, but the climax was too fantastic for my taste.  Three stars.

Where the Phph Pebbles Go, by Miriam Allen deFord

Aliens play a game of throwing rocks.  Some of the stones escape their low-gravity planet and wind up landing on other worlds.  They realize this might draw unwanted attention, so they come up with a plan to eliminate the problem.  This comic tale is inoffensive, but not very amusing.  The author tosses in several silly words like the one in the title.  Two stars.

Third Planet, by Murray Leinster

This story takes place in a future where humanity easily travels hundreds of light-years, but the Cold War is still going on.  The Communists have the upper hand, as they are willing to start a nuclear war if the West ever refuses to give in to their demands.  While this is happening, a starship discovers a planet much like Earth, but with no life.  The reason for this involves a device located on another planet in the same solar system.  The alien technology threatens to destroy the Earth, but also promises to save it.  The author's treatment of the Reds is heavy-handed, depicting them as gleefully plotting to destroy the opposing side without mercy.  There's mention of an implausible scientific law which states that all solar systems must be similar to our own.  Two stars.

Heavenly Gifts, by Aaron L. Kolom

A housekeeper who works at a facility where scientists are attempting to contact other planets uses their equipment to broadcast what she thinks of as prayers.  She asks for simple things like an electric blanket, and they miraculously appear from nowhere.  Meanwhile, radioactive materials begin to disappear from Earth, leading to panic in the governments of the USA and the USSR.  This is a trivial comedy with a weak ending.  Two stars.

The Girl in His Mind, by Robert F. Young

A man purchases the services of an alien (but very humanoid) prostitute.  She has a human girl living in her home, purchased as a slave when the child lost her parents.  After this opening scene, the reader enters the bizarre landscape of the man's mind, where he wanders through scenes of his past while pursuing a woman whom he believes murdered her father.  Meanwhile, three women from his childhood chase him.  The transition between these sections of the story is disorienting, but we eventually find out what's really happening.  Like many stories from this author, the plot involves a man's obsessive love for a woman.  It's strange enough to hold one's attention, but may be too Freudian for many.  Three stars.

To See the Invisible Man, by Robert Silverberg

We end on a high note with this excellent story from a prolific author whose work has not often been distinguished.  He creates a future society where a man guilty of the crime of being cold-hearted is sentenced to a year of symbolic invisibility.  A mark on his forehead warns all who see him that they must act as if he does not exist.  The author goes into a great deal of detail as to how this strange form of punishment might work.  At first, the man enjoys the ability to commit petty crimes without consequences.  He soon discovers the many disadvantages of invisibility, from the fact that he will not receive medical treatment, even if he is dying, to the intense loneliness of complete isolation.  At the end of the story, he learns to reach out to his fellow human beings, even at great cost.  This is a unique and compelling tale, with an important point to make.  Five stars.

If the editor continues to publish stories of the quality of People of the Sea and To See the Invisible Man (while filling up pages with fair-to-middling work), we may still be reading Worlds of Tomorrow when we are living in the world of tomorrow.

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




[January 22, 1963] Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive (February 1963 Fantastic)

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


by Victoria Silverwolf

January was full of ups and downs here in the United States.  Early in the month, the price of a first class stamp jumped from four cents to five cents.  That's a twenty-five percent increase, and it's only been five years since the last time the cost went up.


And postcards are now four cents.

At least we could forget about inflation for a while when Leonardo da Vinci's masterpiece La Gioconda (more commonly known as Mona Lisa) was put on exhibition in the National Gallery in Washington, D.C.  Thanks to the diplomatic charm of First Lady Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy, the French agreed to let the most famous painting in the world travel across the Atlantic.


President Kennedy, Madame Malraux, French Minister of State for Cultural Affairs Malraux, Mrs. Kennedy, Vice-President Johnson.

Not even this great artistic event, however, could distract Americans from the most important social problem facing the nation.  Because I live about twenty miles from the state of Alabama, it hit me hard when I read the inauguration speech of George C. Wallace, newly elected Governor of the Cotton State.

In the name of the greatest people that have ever trod this earth, I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny and I say: segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.


Wallace delivering a speech written by Asa Carter, a member of the Ku Klux Klan.

Given this fiery defiance, I am terrified of the possibility of my country facing a second Civil War over Civil Rights.

It's understandable that, in these uncertain times, Americans turned to the soft crooning of Steve Lawrence's syrupy tearjerker Go Away, Little Girl, which hit the top of the charts this month.

Appropriately, the latest issue of Fantastic is a mixture of the good and the bad.

Dr. Adams' Garden of Evil, by Fritz Leiber

It seems likely that Lloyd Birmingham's bizarre cover art provided the inspiration for this strange story of supernatural revenge.  The antihero is the publisher of a girlie magazine.  A woman holds him responsible for the coma that robbed her sister of her mind after she was the magazine's Kitten-of-the-Month.  We quickly find out that this isn't just paranoia on her part.  Through methods that combine Mad Science and Black Magic, the publisher grows miniature copies of women, which have harmful effects on the real ones.  He soon faces his just deserts.  Stylishly and elegantly written, with a great deal of imagination, this is a weird tale that always holds the reader's attention.  Four stars.

The Titan in the Crypt, by J. G. Warner

The narrator enters a labyrinth of catacombs beneath the city of New Orleans, where he witnesses arcane rituals by cultists offering a disturbing sacrifice to a gigantic idol.  A horrible being chases after him as he makes his way back to the outside world.  This pastiche of H. P. Lovecraft doesn't offer anything new.  The best thing about it is another outstanding, if grotesque, illustration by Lee Brown Coye.  Two stars.

Let 'Em Eat Space, by William Grey Beyer

This issue's reprint comes from the November 4, 1939 issue of Argosy.  Two insurance investigators travel to a distant solar system in order to find out why the metabolism of everyone on Earth is slowing down.  They find a planet inhabited by giant intelligent blobs, some of whom have mutated into evil creatures that prey on the others.  Our pair of wisecracking heroes manage to save humanity and the aliens.  This is a wild, tongue-in-cheek pulp adventure yarn with a lot of bad science.  Two stars.

Final Dining , by Roger Zelazny

An artist paints a portrait of Judas, using a strange pigment he found in a meteorite.  The painting has a life of its own, and tempts the painter into evil and self-destruction.  This is a compelling story by a prolific new writer.  It's slightly overwritten in places, and the meteorite seems out of place in a tale of pure fantasy, but otherwise it's very effective.  Four stars.

The Masters, by Ursula K. LeGuin

This is only the second genre story by another promising newcomer.  It takes place centuries after the fall of modern civilization.  Instead of returning to a completely pre-technological society, however, the people in this post-apocalyptic world are able to build steam engines and other moderately advanced devices.  The plot begins when a man undergoes a grueling initiation, allowing him to join the rigidly controlled guild of machinists.  A fellow engineer tempts him to violate the rules of their order through such forbidden activities as trying to measure the distance to the Sun and using Arabic numerals.  This pessimistic tale is much more original than most stories set after a worldwide disaster.  Four stars.

Black Cat Weather, by David R. Bunch

Editor Cele Goldsmith's most controversial author offers a brief story set in a future where people have many of their body parts replaced with metal.  A little girl not yet old enough to require such procedures, assisted by a robot, brings something from a cemetery to her father.  Told in a dense style that requires close reading, this is a dark, disturbing tale.  Four stars.

Perfect Understanding, by Jack Egan

A man's spaceship crashes on Mercury while racing away from hostile aliens.  The ethereal beings track him down, but he captures them and forces them to reveal their secrets in a way not revealed until the end of the story.  This space opera reads like something rejected by Analog.  It throws in a lot of implausible details, and the twist ending is predictable.  One star.

Like life in these modern times, this issue was a real rollercoaster ride.  Maybe it's best to follow the advice of the old Johnny Mercer song and accentuate the positive.

[P.S. If you registered for WorldCon this year, please consider nominating Galactic Journey for the "Best Fanzine" Hugo.  Check your mail for instructions…]




[December 24, 1962] The Year 2 A.D. (After Davidson – the January 1963 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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


by Gideon Marcus

Trends are tricky things.  They require multiple data points to become apparent, and even then, careful analysis may be required to draw a proper conclusion.

I think I can safely say, however, that one-plus year into Avram Davidson's tenure as editor of F&SF, the magazine's quality has trended sharply and consistently downward.  Stories tend toward the obtuse, the purple, the (and this surprises me) hackneyed.  It's just not the sublime lyric beauty it used to be.

Why is this?  Let's explore some possible explanations:

1) F&SF can't get good writers anymore.

This clearly isn't true.  The Table of Contents of any given issue reads like a who's who of the genre.

2) Nobody is writing good sf anymore.

Demonstrably false.  Just look at the other mags.

3) The good writers save their best stuff for other magazines

This could be true, but given that F&SF pays some of the best rates (for science fiction anyway – three or four cents a word), I'd can't image F&SF is a second-resort mag.

4) Davidson's editorial preferences are driving the direction of F&SF.

A ha.  Davidson has been a writer of sf for many a year, and the trend in his writing has been toward the obscure and the prolix.  It shouldn't be a surprise to see the Davidson style creep into his magazine.  One trend I find particularly disturbing is the disappearance of women from F&SF's pages.  This magazine used to be the stand-out leader in publishing of woman authors, and its pages were better for it.  Now, female writers been conspicuously absent for two issues, and there had been fewer than normal in the months prior.  Nor can one argue that women are leaving the genre — F&SF's loss is the gain for the other digests.

The inevitable destination of this downward trend, the limit of quality as the time of Davidson's tenure goes to infinity, as it were, appears to be zero stars.  Sure, there are still stand-out issues, but they come fewer and farther between.  And the January 1963 F&SF isn't one of them…

The Golden Brick, P. M. Hubbard

The issue starts off well enough with this story of a Cornish ghost ship, imprisoned in which is a four hundred year old mad Alchemist with the Midas touch.  The tale is nicely crafted and atmospheric, but stories like this have been a dime a dozen in this mag.  Competent writing and imagery aren't enough.  Three stars.

Zap! and La Difference, Randall Garrett

Ugh.  Go away, Randy.

Dragon Hunt, L. Sprague de Camp

De Camp's life is the stuff of legends, as shows this essay on the globetrotting he undertook to familiarize himself with the locales of his recent historical fiction.  The piece contains tidbits of genuine interest, but the presentation is somehow lackluster.  Three stars.

Myths My Great-Granddaughter Taught Me, Fritz Leiber

In which the author's precocious descendant notes the frightening parallels between the Cold War of the 1980s and Ragnarok of Norse Myth.  This is the best story of the magazine, but again, we're treading familiar ground.  A minor piece from a major author.  Three stars.  (Happy 52nd birthday, by the way, Fritz.)

He's Not My Type!, Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor's non-fiction articles always get read first, but I was disappointed this time around.  Perhaps it's because I felt Asimov explained blood types better in his recent book, The Living River, or maybe Davidson's too-barbed introduction put me in a bad mood (I must stop reading those first).  In any event, it is readable, which is the worst Asimov ever gets.  Three stars.

Way-Station, Henry Slesar

Imagine Zenna Henderson wrote a The People story, but rather than have it end in poignance, instead wrote a stock "horror" ending that one could see a mile away.  That's what scriptwriter Slesar offers up.  Where is Henderson, anyway?  Two stars.

Punch, Frederik Pohl

Pohl is a busy boy – not only does he edit two mags (three, come early next year), but he finds time to be published in all of them and Davidson's.  In Punch, it turns out that the many technological gifts of the newly encountered galaxy-spanning aliens have a sinister motivation.  It would have made a decent, if typical, episode of The Twilight Zone.  Three stars.

Speakeasy, Mack Reynolds

Last up is a short novel from a fellow who is typically featured in AnalogSpeakeasy depicts a future in which society has been stultified by success, a meritocracy that has calcified thanks to nepotism and inertia.  Only a few revolutionaries remain to shock life into the decaying culture of the Technocracy. 

Reynolds can do very good political thriller, viz. Mercenary from last year's Analog.  Unfortunately, Speakeasy is a rambling, naive mess that jumps the tracks about halfway through and runs headlong into a wall near the end.  I wonder if Analog's editor Campbell rejected it.  If so, I wonder why Davidson accepted it.  It doesn't really fit F&SF, either the current or past iterations of the magazine.  Two stars.

So there you have it, an issue that clocks in at a miserable 2.3 stars.  Even Davidson seems to agree that his stuff hasn't been very good – check out the scathing letter at the end of the mag (which may or may not have come from Davidson's pen, itself).  No more "purple cows," indeed.

Ah well.  That's enough kvetching for this season.  It's Christmas Eve, as well as the fourth night of Hannukah.  Go light a candle, illuminate a tree, drink some eggnog.  Or as a recent fancard admonishes, let there be "Goodwill to mellow fen."

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




[November 3, 1962] A Plague of Purple (December 1962 Galaxy)

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


by Gideon Marcus

A plague has invaded the galaxy.

Well, more specifically, a plague has invaded Galaxy, as evidenced in the December 1962 issue.

It has become de riguer at my former favorite magazine, that of Fantasy and Science Fiction, to print "funny" literary stories.  Tediously amusing, dully droll, laden with parenthetical (uselessly so) clauses — and hyphenated articulations, sometimes "quoted" for extra sardonicism.  And did I mention the extra verbiage?  These magazines pay three cents per word, you know.

An author will not impress me with her/his command of the typewriter keys beyond the 36 letters and numerals, nor with an arcane talent for stringing comma-connected clauses unbroken across a paragraph.  I want a plot, compelling characters, and for God's Sake, science in my science fiction.  I have nothing against humor.  The likes of Sheckley and (for the most part) Lafferty make me smile just fine.  I've nothing against avant garde prose — viz. the incomparable Cordwainer Smith.

No, what drives me crazy is the supremely affected garbage that is shouldering aside honest fiction.  Am I the only one who hates this stuff?  I'm not asking for a return to the mediocre gotcha tales starring James McAnglo-Saxon that larded the surplus of digest in the 50s (and which still regularly appear in Analog.) I just want good, readable stories with reasonable extrapolations of technology populated by genuine human beings…or plausible aliens (I'm no xenophobe.)

Read on, at your own risk.  There's precious little to enjoy in this month's issue, save for the second part of Pohl's serial (the change in tone may give you whiplash) and the rather pedestrian nonfiction articles.  Don't say I didn't warn you.  And if you actually like this stuff, well, it's a free country. 

The Creature from Cleveland Depths, by Fritz Leiber

From the first few run-on lines, I knew I was in for a slog.  The once-brilliant Leiber, the fellow who gave us A Pail of Air, has this satirical(?) piece on little computerized calendar/memo-minders that eventually take over the world.  I gave up about halfway through, skimming just enough to confirm that I'd accurately guessed where the story was going.  I'm sure some will absolutely love it; it's certainly a popular style these days.  Not for me, though.  One star.

Dr. Morris Goldpepper Returns, by Avram Davidson

Having poured myself a stiff drink in reward for having made it through the opening novella, my moment of self-congratulation was shattered as I espied the byline of the next piece.  Davidson is the poster child for excellence gone to the prolix weeds.  Sure enough, this piece, ostensibly about earthworms and aliens, is possibly his worst offender yet.  One star.

Droozle, by Frank Banta

Oh look.  A pun-filled story about a sentient fountain pen.  At least it's short.  One star.

Pluto, Doorway to the Stars, by George Peterson Field

A brief respite.  Field (who is he?) proposes a most unorthodox justification for Pluto's most unexpected massiveness — it's actually a gravitational slingshot for alien starships!  Of course, the ninth "planet" probably isn't that massive, at least according to the astrophysical journals I read.  Three stars for imagination, and because the preceding stories left me with an overstock of stars.

General Max Shorter, by Kris Neville

This is supposed to be a brooding piece from the point of view of a hidebound officer who commits genocide, not out of malice, but stolid adherence to orders and routine.  Instead, it's a plodding, overwrought story with all the seams showing.  Two stars.

Sodom and Gomorrah, Texas, by R. A. Lafferty

I can usually count on Lafferty to successfully deliver a mirthful tale.  This time, though, he simply fails.  Maybe I was just fatigued from too much of its ilk earlier in the book.  Or maybe his story of a befuddled census-taker who finds a community of Lilliputians in rural Texas just ain't very good.  Two stars. 

The Glory of Ippling, by Helen M. Urban

I vaguely remember Helen Urban from the magazines many years ago.  I'm afraid her most recent story will not make any new fans.  I couldn't even tell you what this piece was about — my brain was just too addled from its much of muchness with what preceded it.  One star.

For Your Information, by Willy Ley

One of the few rocket scientists from Germany who was never a National Socialist, Willy Ley always turns in a decent article.  This one is on the progress that has been and is being made in the field of space stations.  Ley assures us that, while orbiting stations may not yet be in the headlines, they are certainly under development.  Three stars.

Plague of Pythons (Part 2 of 2), by Frederik Pohl

Last ish, we learned that the end of civilization, brought about by the selective and destructive possession of people, was actually the work of a group of Soviet dissident scientists.  Drunk on power, they wrought a holocaust beyond the scope (if not the dreams) of even the most ardent Nazi.  Apart from the decaying and isolated millions left in the world, the community of a few hundred gold-circleted "execs" now lives on the Hawaiian island of Oahu, waited upon by 10,000 slaves made marionettes by the psychic coronets of their masters.

Chandler is our viewpoint character, a fellow "rescued" at the brink of execution for hoaxing a possession to commit depraved acts (but he really was a puppet at the time).  He finds himself in Oahu being put to work on a back-up psi generator, one that will assure his overlords eternal power.  People die around him right and left: used up, punished for petty reasons, slaughtered for attempted sedition.  Only the constant love of one of the execs keeps him alive until he has the opportunity to strike back at the masters.

This is such a hard piece to gauge.  It is an expertly written page turner.  The subject matter is extremely difficult stuff, though.  If the world hadn't witnessed similar horrors just a couple of decades ago (e.g. Germany), I'd say it was a gratuitous exaggeration.  Part of the problem with the book is that Chandler simply doesn't have much agency (which, to be fair, is rather the point).  Every spark of hope is quenched.  Every attempt to hatch a plan is squelched in the most brutal way.  Only happenstance saves him in the end, an event one can predict fairly early on.  Chandler views this horror world but barely interacts with it.  The result is a vivid, disturbing, fascinating tour of hell.  Four stars, if you can stomach it.

And that's that.  90 worthy pages, mostly at the end, out of 196.  I sincerely hope this is not a harbinger of things to come.  Otherwise, I shall have to join the bandwagon of those who say that science fiction truly is on the decline.

Speaking of which, see you in a few days with a look at Philip K. Dick's first sf book in several years.