Tag Archives: jason sacks

Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[September 20, 1964] Apocalypses and other trivia (Galactoscope)

7 Comments

[Don't miss your chance to get your copy of Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963), some of the best science fiction of the Silver Age.  If you like the Journey, you'll love this book (and you'll be helping us out, too!)]

[This month's Galactoscope features two global catastrophes, two collections, and four authors you've almost certainly heard of!]


by Jason Sacks

The Penultimate Truth, by Philip K. Dick

Like many fans, I first became really aware of Philip K. Dick after he won the 1963 Hugo Award for Best Novel for his remarkable The Man in the High Castle. That book dazzled in its chronicle of an alternate history in which the Nazis and Japanese won World War II (which opened up many areas of thought and conversation for me and my friends) as well as in its brilliant world-building and the fascinating, multifaceted characters at the heart of Dick's award-winner.

High Castle was also an amazingly tight novel, packing a dense plot into its mere 240 pages. As many of us Dick fans have learned, not all of his works are quite so tightly plotted. I adored his Martian Time-Slip and Dr. Bloodmoney from last year, but those books tended to both delight and annoy in their meandering, nearly stream-of-consciousness styles.

The newest Philip K. Dick novel, The Penultimate Truth (just out in paperback from Belmont) fills a bit of the gap between his ’62 masterpiece and the challenging ’63 books. This thoroughly delightful book wanders a bit but always held me in its comforting grasp.

The Penultimate Truth is shambolic and episodic, but that approach serves the work well. Its main characters are living shambolic lives, which Dick depicts as full of odd episodes which occasionally have great and beautiful moments of transcendence, even in the post-apocalyptic wasteland in which the book is set.

Note that this review will reveal elements of the book, comments that "spoil", if you will, so skip down to the next review if you love surprises in your fiction.

In the future world of this book, much of humanity lives in massive underground bunkers, nicknamed anthills, in which they build weapons and medical devices for the nuclear war they believe is ravaging the surface of the Earth. When Nick St. James, the president of one anthill, makes his way to the surface, St. James discovers his people have been lied to. The world on the surface has survived nuclear devastation and has emerged into a unique and odd civilization. Needless to say, the revelation of the relatively peaceful world surface changes nearly everything.

What makes this novel so special, though, is that those revelations don't change the way St. James views his world. He doesn’t become a noble crusader for truth or a vengeful destroyer of the new civilization. Instead our protagonist goes the opposite way of most heroic leads. Instead of rebelling, he goes out of his way to allow the world to stay in its current state. He will not let the truth of his world change life in the anthill. The penultimate truth of the story is the truth behind the nuclear war. But the ultimate truth is more powerful: it is the special bond society creates, the relationships created and enduring for decades, and the lies and half-truths that are necessary to perpetuate that society.

This description makes The Penultimate Truth sound heady and brainy, and it is filled with a intriguing level of intelligence and wisdom about human nature. But it is also has the several elements we have come to expect from Dick’s finest work.

First and foremost, this is an exciting story, with scenes of high adventure, escapes and shootouts which keep the reader turning the page. There are mysteries piled upon mysteries, characters who shift and change as the story proceeds only to have them revealed in ways for which the reader was foreshadowed but for which he likely could not have anticipated.

Secondly, this is a wise and fascinating study of human nature. The Penultimate Truth is about jealousy and lust for power balanced with trust and love for family and friends. It sets stability and chaos in opposite sides of the metaphorical coin in ways few other novels of any type have explored, and in doing so shows the power of novelistic science fiction in the hands of a master of the medium.

Thirdly, this book seems to explode with ideas, from the anthills (an idea Dick has explored in some of his short fiction such as “Second Variety”) to the vast demesnes in which the surface dwellers live, to the vast conspiracies used to keep ordinary people following their leaders. In fact, it is in that last set of ideas that Dick falls down a bit for me. I had trouble imagining a government systematically lying to its people in the way described here. In a world in which leaders are elected by the governed, there is no reason for leaders to lie to their people. [Oh, my sweet country mouse…(Ed.)]

And the last element I’ve come to love in Dick’s work comes from the very end of the book. In my mind there are two endings to this novel, and in fact I won’t reveal them here so you can experience them yourself. But I’m curious how many readers wish The Penultimate Truth had ended with the deeply ironic penultimate chapter as its conclusion as opposed to those who preferred the redemptive final chapter.

Throw in some gorgeously descriptive language and you have one of the finest science fiction novels of 1964. I hope Mr. Dick brings home another Hugo next year from London.

4.5 stars


by Gideon Marcus

Tongues of the Moon, by Philip J. Farmer

Three years ago, just before John Boston started reviewing Amazing for us, Philip Jose Farmer had a short story called Tongues of the Moon.  The tale began with a literal bang: the Axis of southern nations launched a preemptive strike on the Communist Northern Hemisphere (including a subjugated United States kept pacified with skull-mounted pain inducers!), and the entire world was destroyed.  At the same time, the "Axes" attacked their enemies throughout the solar system — from Mercury to the Mars, Copernicus to Callisto.  Our hero, a scientist named Broward, is caught in a crossfire at what was supposed to be a lunar peace conference.  Together with the monomaniacal American, Scone, he manages to escape the fight and deactivate the central pain induction center on the Moon.  Now free agents, Scone finds himself the leader of some of the very few human beings left alive.  Can he knit together a new human race from the four hundred survivors representing dozens of nations and ideologies?  Can a viable culture be created when men outnumber women 4:1?

These are all excellent questions, and I'm not surprised that Farmer decided to expand his novelette into a full novel.  Unfortunately, what could have been a fascinating sociological study is subverted in favor of a fairly pedestrian adventure story and a series of treasure hunts.

In the expanded portion of the book, Broward is dispatched to the ruined Earth to find a planet-destroying bomb.  The plan is to destroy the last significant Axis presence in the system, their colony on Mars, so that the Moon is safe.  But Broward recognizes paranoia when he sees it, and he is reluctant to carry out Scone's plan, which will cause yet more decimation of the human population.  He also, understandably so, has issues with Scone's plan to condemn the remaining women to forced multiple marriages.  And so begins a merry excursion — to the caves of Siberia, the undersea domes of the Mediterranean, the vastness of outerspace, the tunnels of Mars.  Tongues never stops to take a breath, and each sequence is more or less self-contained.  The most interesting bit involves the Siberian expedition, when Broward takes along as co-pilot the last Jew in the world (and probably the last person of Japanese extraction, too).  In this section are tantalizing hints of what the story might have been.  Alas, all development is tossed for more running and chasing.

It has been said of Farmer that he is "always almost good", which is not nearly as nice as "almost always good."  This latest book continues the trend.  Someday he'll make a masterpiece.  Until then, he's just a decent writer who can never quite deliver.

3.5 stars


by Rosemary Benton

Ace Double: "The Million Year Hunt" by Kenneth Bulmer and "Ships to the Stars" by Fritz Leiber

Ace Double novels are always a treat. Even though they are largely reprints of stories from the 1950s I always feel like I have rediscovered something special when I pick up one of these books at the bookstore. This month's release features titles by veteran authors Fritz Leiber and Kenneth Bulmer. Given the styles of each author I was intrigued to see how they would read back to back. Sadly to say, this was not one of the better lineups from Ace.

"The Million Year Hunt" by Kenneth Bulmer

Kenneth Bulmer's contribution to this month's Ace Double follows the adventures of a scrap yard worker turned savior of the human race. The story begins as we drop in on the aftermath of a prank pulled by protagonist Arthur Ross Carson, a mischievous young colonist on a back-water planet with few prospects. In short order he finds himself contending with the unjust killing of his fiancé Lucy, startling news of his parentage, and the piteous million-year mission of an alien conscious that enters his body. This is a lot to unwrap within less than 150 pages, and that's not even the full extent of the plot. Bulmer goes on to reveal a slew of converging political schemes to control the universe, including a program to selectively breed a successor to lead the intergalactic police force known as the Galactic Guard.

I felt like I was reading a much larger story that had been brutally and awkwardly chopped down to fit a page count limit. Up to the very last sentence the story is rife with major plot points that are not resolved, gawky transitions of emotion within the cast of characters, and plot twists that feel last minute and cheap. I can't overstate the issue that lies with the jerking sensation the reader gets as the story shifts from scene to scene. So awkward and halting was the pace that I just couldn't believe Bulmer was the one to give it a final proof read before sending it to publication. There was just no way a man as prolific as him could have been satisfied with this story, a public presentation by which he would be judged as a writer, going to press in the state it's in.

If "The Million Year Hunt" is indeed the butchered result of a much larger manuscript, then the most tragic victims of its murder were the emotional transitions of the characters and the quirky, adventurous and lighthearted atmosphere that was so desperately trying to take hold. The easy and funny dialogue between Arthur Ross Carson and the alien conscious that strapped itself to him nervous system is very entertaining to read. Their banter actually comprises some of the best scenes in this story. Instead of clunky exposition their conversations dynamically teased out information on their respective pasts, personalities, and surroundings.

If only Bulmer could have let the characters be themselves stumbling through space on adventures loosely tied to an end goal, specifically Carson's mission of revenge and his origin as the "savior" of the Galactic Guard, then this would have been a fantastic story. Unfortunately in its current state "The Million Year Hunt" is not a story that should have made it to print.

[Apparently, The Million Year Hunt is a fix-up of sorts, created from Scarlet Denial in Science Fiction Adventures No. 26, and Scarlet Dawn in Science Fiction Adventures No. 28. Both came out in 1962, published in the United Kingdom. The text is unchanged from the originals. (ed)]

"Ships to the Stars" by Fritz Leiber

On the other side of this Ace Double is a collection of six short stories by power house actor and novelist Fritz Leiber. In contrast to Bulmer's story, Leiber's "Dr. Kometevsky's Day", "The Big Trek", "The Enchanted Forest", "Deadly Moon", "The Snowbank Orbit", and "The Ship Sails at Midnight" are all well structured with tight plots and developed characters. Leiber's writing also demonstrates a more measured understanding of how to maintain the flow of a story. The tendency of his characters to repeatedly ponder the effects fear has on them makes them fragile, fallible, and very true to the duality of human nature. They want to know and see everything, but there are limits to what they can understand and what their eyes have access to. Leiber's inclusion of these relatable and basic human failings forms a tension in his stories that would be otherwise missing if he had held full faith in humanity's ability to rationalize everything with science.

The strongest short stories in this small selection were "The Big Trek" and "The Ship Sails at Midnight". In these two tales the reader can really see Leiber's deep connection with the gothic authors whom he draws inspiration from. In "The Big Trek" Leiber writes from the first-person perspective of a man joining a feverish march of bizarre beings from across the universe. The employment of fluctuating space and loose concepts of time's passage echoes William Hope Hodgson's "The House on the Borderland" (1908) and pretty much any piece by Edgar Allan Poe. The narrator's awe and trepidation touched with excitement are also very similar to Arthur Machen's inner voice within "The White People" (1904).

Like H. P. Lovecraft and Lord Dunsany, Leiber's strongest talent as a writer is keeping his characters grounded by the weighty truth that humans are far from the most powerful forces in the universe. All of Leiber's stories have humans sprinting to stay out of the way of some larger, stronger entity charging through with little interest in our species’ plight. "The Ship Sails at Midnight" best encapsulates this with its accompanying message that humans have such potential but are so readily self-sabotaging.

The joy of reading Fritz Leiber’s short stories greatly made up for my disappointment in Kenneth Bulmer’s novella. Fast paced, thoughtful and touching, they make this Ace Double a worthwhile purchase. I will absolutely be looking forward to reading more of his work in the future.

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




7 Comments Leave A Comment
Book

[June 18, 1964] Bad Comic Book Style and Good Comic Book Style (Galactoscope)

2 Comments

[This month's Galactoscope features a trio of books by two authors filled with riproar and comic-style adventure. We think you'll enjoy this foray into the past…and future!]

The Valley of Creation, by Edmond Hamilton


by Cora Buhlert

The Valley of Creation by Edmond Hamilton

Captain Future was the first science fiction I encountered, therefore I will always have a soft spot for Edmond Hamilton. And so I was happy to find a new Edmond Hamilton novel in the spinner rack of my local import bookshop, even if The Valley of Creation is quite different from Captain Future. The latter is space opera, the former is an earthbound adventure in the style of the "lost world" stories that were popular around the turn of the century.

The Valley of Creation follows the adventures of Eric Nelson, an American soldier of fortune (as he euphemistically calls himself) who got stuck in Asia after the Korean war. Together with a motley multinational crew of mercenaries – a Dutchman, an Englishman, a Chinaman and a fellow American (and a black man, at that) – Eric is fighting in the Chinese civil war, offering his guns and skills to whatever local warlord is willing to pay.

But Eric and his merry band of mercenaries are in a tight spot. Their latest employer is dead, the People's Liberation Army is encroaching and the mercenaries are about to find themselves on the wrong end of a firing squad. Luckily, a man called Shan Kar shows up and hires them to fight his private little war in a hidden valley in the Himalayas, far from the reach of the PLA. A hidden valley where platinum worth millions is just lying around for the taking.

If you're reminded of James Hilton's novel Lost Horizon at this point, you're not alone. Alas, L'Lan, the titular valley, is no peaceful Shangri-La. It is a troubled paradise, where the conflict between Shan Kar's faction, the Humanites, and their enemies, the so-called Brotherhood, is about the escalate.

You'd think that a group calling themselves the Humanites would be the good guys. But you'd be wrong, because the Humanites are bigoted supremacists. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, is committed to equality between humans and non-humans. Non-humans in this case meaning sentient and intelligent animals, who happen to be telepathic as well.

Shan Kar hopes that the mercenaries and their modern weapons will turn the tide in his favour. But their attempt to infiltrate the Brotherhood's stronghold quickly goes wrong. Eric is taken prisoner and finds himself at the mercy of the Brotherhood. As "punishment", he has his consciousness transferred into the body of a wolf via quasi-magic technology.

Forced to literally walk in the paws of his enemy, Eric realises that he is fighting on the wrong side and vows to aid the Brotherhood against his former comrades. And just in time, too, because – quelle surprise – Eric's surviving mercenary pals reveal themselves to be murderous thugs willing to do anything in order to get to the platinum.

Startling Stories July 1948The Valley of Creation is an action-packed science fantasy adventure that feels like a throwback to the pulp era, probably because it is. For The Valley of Creation is an expanded version of a story first published in the July 1948 issue of Startling Stories. This has caused some anachronisms, e.g. at one point Eric remarks that he has been in Asia for ten years, which would set the story in 1960. However, the Chinese Civil War and the annexation of Tibet and the East Turkestan Republic, which are the reason why Eric and his comrades are in the Himalayas in the first place, happened in 1949 and 1950, i.e. shortly after the story was originally published.

The chapters that Eric spends in the body of a wolf are the highlight of the novel, for Hamilton makes a serious attempt to describe what the world would look, smell and feel like through the senses of a wolf. The other animals are characters in their own right as well, though the Brotherhood's commitment to equality between man and beast is undermined by the fact that their hereditary leader is human. But then, making the leader anything other than human would have been problematic, considering the plot requires Eric to fall in love with his beautiful daughter.

One can view the novel as a plea for animal rights. Or one can view it as an analogy for racial equality – after all, Eric muses at one point that equality between humans and animals seems as natural in L'Lan as equality between different races is in the outer world. That's an optimistic statement to make even in 1964, let alone in 1948. Furthermore, the Chinese mercenary Li Kin is a wholly sympathetic character, in a genre that is still all too often suffused with yellow peril rhetoric. Another member of the mercenary band is a black man, but unfortunately he is the main villain.

An entertaining novel that's well worth reading, even if it belongs to an earlier era of science fiction. 3.5 stars.

Outside the Universe, by Edmond Hamilton


by Jason Sacks

As the Journey’s resident comic book fan, I try to broaden my understanding of the industry’s creators by checking out some of their text-only work. This month brought two novels by prominent comic book writers. The contrast between the two works is strong.

First up is Outside the Universe by Edmond Hamilton, an Ace reprint of Hamilton’s final Galactic Patrol book. First published in a quartet of 1929 Weird Tales pulps, alongside work by Robert E. Howard, August Derleth, and — I kid you not — Lois Lane — Hamilton’s epic tale of titanic space battles, courageous heroes and intergalactic alliances is a breathless, often overwhelming weird tale.

Written in a long-winded style which reads like Hamilton was desperate to allow the words to tumble from his typewriter lest they find a stray period, Outside the Universe is a wild and wooly journey which involves a million-ship battle between a mighty galactic empire and evil space serpents. Battles are enormous and seemingly endless, and space seems filled with astonishing dangers which imperil every space ship which passes through them. Our heroes and villains fight their ways through bizarre radiation clouds and unexplained hot areas, stars arranged geometrically and people transformed into statues.

It’s a humdinger of a tale, a rousing yarn which throws the reader from cliffhanger to cliffhanger with scarcely a moment to catch their breath — unless they stop to diagram one of the hundreds (thousands?) of 50-word sentences in this book. Hamilton seems to have never internalized the idea of varying sentence length to keep his readers engaged. Perhaps this is an artifact of 1920s pulp writing, but I found I couldn’t keep focus on this book for too long without desperately getting impatient for a quick breather from all Hamilton’s verbosity.

Hamilton moved to comics, where he often wrote for his friend Mort Weisinger on the Superman family of comics. Notably, Hamilton's run on the "Legion of Super-Heroes" tales in Adventure Comics is well known for its breakneck pace — “a new planet every page”, as one critical wag labeled it — and complete paucity of characterization. Apparently Mr. Hamilton changed little as he aged, as this early work reflects those tendencies. Outside the Universe is a hoot but this story has no teeth.

Rating: 2.5

Escape Across the Cosmos, by Gardner Fox

Meanwhile, Gardner Fox has released his newest through the Paperback Library. Escape Across the Cosmos reads at times like a print version of Mr. Fox’s comic book work. In this volume, he delivers a novel about a kind of extradimensional space superhero.

That’s appropriate for the man who has written many classic tales for National Comics’ heroes line, including the memorable “Flash of Two Worlds”, in which the super speedster met his cross-dimensional counterpart. In fact, rumor has it that Fox will be assuming the reins on Batman later this year, taking over the moribund Batman and Detective Comics titles from a team which includes Edmond Hamilton.

Escape Across the Cosmos is the tale of Kael Carrack, a war-ravaged man whose body has been rebuilt to be nearly indestructible. His silicon skin, cybernetic strength and superhuman abilities are urgently needed to defeat the dreaded Ylth’yl, a Lovecraftian monster from another dimension who has killed nearly everybody of importance in his dimension and who hungers to transport his evil to our dimension. In fact, as the story unfolds, it seems Kael has a special connection to the evil creature, one which may save — or doom — our dimension.

In contrast with the Hamilton novel, Fox doesn’t squander characterization for adventure. He takes pains to show readers Kael’s confusion and allows us to become willing and excited participants in the hero’s journey to self-realization. As he and we do so, Kael finds true romance with a human woman, grows into a more perfected version of himself. It will betray any surprises to say that Kael begins to fulfill his destiny by the end of this short book.

This short novel is a clever, quick read. It shines in comparison with Hamilton’s overcrowded prose, as Fox takes pains to allow the reader to move ahead at his own pace. I would have loved to see more depth on the hero and his universe, but perhaps we’ll learn more about him at some point in the future when Fox delivers a sequel in one form or another.

Escape Across the Cosmos reads like an origin story for a new superhero, and for all I know Kael may appear in the pages of National’s Showcase try-out book in the next several months. Maybe Kael will be their next great sci-fi hero. I would certainly welcome him in my comics stack each month.

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




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Book

[May 16, 1964] A Mirror to Progress (Chester Anderson and Michael Kurland's Ten Years to Doomsday)

4 Comments


by Jason Sacks

These days, our world is undergoing a sudden and dramatic transformation. Starting immediately after the War, and accelerating since, many former colonies are becoming free nations, ready to embrace their potential and individuality. As these new countries find their own ways toward futures separate from their former masters, we in the Western world are able to experience life from different perspectives. These perspectives show the exquisite diversity of the human race. We are given the rare privilege to experience perspectives different from our own, perspectives sometimes frightening, sometimes exciting, but always intriguing. In doing so, we provide these nations the ultimate freedom: they can dream big. They can embrace new technologies and different ways of looking at the world. They can shake off the repressive yoke of colonialism and allow themselves to achieve their true potential.

Ten Years to Doomsday, the delightful new novel by the writing team of Chester Anderson and Michael Kurland, is a charming exploration of many of these themes using a mix of farce and drama.

As the book begins, an evil race of aliens threatens the star-spanning Terran Alliance. The aliens’ path to Earth leads through a human-colonized world that seems particularly hapless. As we meet them, the settlers on the planet Lyff seem a quiet people. They have a rigid society which revolves around their king and petty nobility. Even after thousands of years of civilization, the people of Lyff haven’t passed beyond an agrarian lifestyle which barely provides greater than subsistence living.

After their initial reconnaissance, the aliens plan be back in ten years to conquer Lyff and then begin their implacable march through the Terran empire. A stand needs to be taken on this small world, and quickly. But the aliens have astounding technology. How can a tiny planet like Lyff possibly defend itself?

Thankfully the Terrans have a plan: send a team of three scientists to Lyff to help jumpstart the world’s technology. These men start with the introduction of the telegraph but very quickly things begin to take their own momentum and the colonials soon prove to be much more sophisticated than the Terran colonizers expected. What at first seems like indolence or a lack of ambition soon proves to provide a pattern for technological innovation far beyond what anyone could have expected. The arrogant Terrans learn there are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in their philosophy

Our late, lamented President Kennedy said 18 months ago that we chose to go to the moon because it is hard. But what if journeying through space was easy — if you applied the right approach to solving the problems?

Anderson and Kurland deliver a novelette which reflects our world back to us in a clever and satirical manner, spotlighting the often arrogant and dismissive attitudes of our post-colonial world. Just as with many former colonies in our world, the colonists on Lyff have far more potential than the Terrans could possibly imagine. It’s a heady and humbling idea that would translate to a variety of media. As a comic book fan, I would love to see this theme brought to my favorite medium, perhaps portraying a small country, maybe in Africa, that proves to be much more technologically advanced even than the United States.

In tone and style, this slim book — less than 160 pages — reminded me of The Mouse that Roared, one of my favorite films from about five years ago and a clever take on the arrogance rich countries bring to our discussion of smaller countries. Just as Grand Fenwick proves to be a stronger adversary than the rest of the world is ready to deal with, so Lyff proves to be a formidable foil.

And as with The Mouse that Roared, I was reminded again of the fallacy of underestimating those who seem on the bottom…because they may soon reach the top. Heck, maybe even my beloved Mets can crawl out of 10th place in the National League before the end of the decade!

4 stars.

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




4 Comments Leave A Comment
Book

[March 29, 1964] Five by Five (March Galactoscope)

11 Comments

For your reading pleasure, Galactic Journey presents a quintet of the newest books in this month's Galactoscope…


by Victoria Silverwolf

The Prodigal Sun, by Philip E. High

I'm sitting here sipping some Earl Grey tea, nibbling a Bendicks Bittermint, listening to the Beatles on the radio; am I still in Tennessee?  I must be, because I'm holding Ace paperback F-255 in my hand, and that's an American publisher.  Then I take a closer look, and notice that the author is British.  I guess there's no way of getting around it; I'm a walking anglophile.

Philip E. High may not be very well known to those of us on this side of the Atlantic, but his stories have appeared in UK publications for about a decade.  I've had a chance to read a handful of them in New Worlds, thanks to fellow Traveler Mark Yon, who is very generous with lending copies of the magazine to Yanks. 

High also had the story Fallen Angel published in the June 1961 issue of Analog.  Our host was not impressed by it.  Overall, High seems to be a competent, if undistinguished, writer of science fiction.  Will his first novel confirm that opinion?  Is it worth forty cents?  Let's find out, starting with the front cover.

Was he there to teach Earth – or to rule it?

Well, that's a fairly interesting teaser.  The cover art is all right, I suppose, although it doesn't really grab me.  Let's take a look inside.

They wanted his secrets, but feared his presents

That should say presence, I think. 

Next we have a cast of characters.  That's a nice touch, as it allows me to flip back to the front when I forget who somebody is.  My only complaint is that it leaves out some important names.  Anyway, let's move on to the text.  Like most science fiction novels, it's well under two hundred pages long, so it's not a major investment in time.

The background is complex, requiring a lot of expository narration and dialogue.  Long before the novel begins, Earthlings settled a few extra-solar planets.  They ran into aliens, at about the same level of technology, who wanted one of these worlds for themselves, and a long and bloody interstellar war followed.  Eventually the humans won, but only at the cost of turning Earth into a brutal dictatorship.  Anyone suspected of disloyalty undergoes involuntary psychological conditioning, so that rebellious thoughts cause intense physical pain.

Into this dystopian world comes our hero, a young man named Peter Duncan.  As an infant, he was the only survivor of an accident in space, and was rescued by highly advanced aliens.  The rulers of Earth see him as a potential threat, but also as a possible source of technological secrets.  He has plans of his own, which I won't describe here, as they are not fully revealed until the end of the book.

The complicated, fast-moving plot also involves a bodyguard, a reporter, and a businessman who undergo important changes in their relationship with Duncan.  Thrown into the mix are enemy aliens, held as prisoners of war after hostilities end.  There is also a secret underground civilization, a love interest for the hero, and yet another set of aliens.  The novel shifts point of view often, sometimes several times within a single scene.

Near the end, developments come at a furious pace.  The revelation of Duncan's scheme, and the explanation of the novel's punning title, go beyond the limits of credulity. 

The book is full of interesting ideas; maybe too many.  Its basic theme can be expressed as Love Conquers All, which is not what you expect from a science fiction adventure story.  Many of the secondary characters are intriguing, although the protagonist is rather bland.  Often a villain turns out to be more complex than first thought, and earns the reader's sympathy.  The author's style is serviceable at best, with some clumsy phrasings.  Overall, it's a mixed bag, worth reading once, if you can spare a quarter, dime, and nickel, but not destined to become a timeless classic.

Three stars.

The Wanderer, by Fritz Leiber


by Jason Sacks


Cover by Bob Abbett

The Wanderer by Fritz Leiber is an odd book, a combination of two disparate elements which never quite come together for me.

The core plot of the story is that a new planet, nicknamed the Wanderer, has appeared in our solar system — and in fact appears in almost exactly the same spot as our moon. At first nobody knows what to make of this new celestial body, but most people feel a combination of awe and confusion about what this new interstellar visitor might mean and what its impact might be on our world.

Quickly, though, a tragedy which once was unimaginable becomes inevitable. The moon begins to disintegrate under the gravity of The Wanderer, which unleashes a devastating level of natural destruction. Because The Wanderer has a higher gravity than the moon, ocean tides increase geometrically in power, terrible tidal waves hit all oceans, earthquakes strike in California, rising ocean currents open Lake Nicaragua to the ocean, and floods strike much of the United Kingdom.

In the midst of this utter destruction, Leiber shows us the hearty survivors who battle the effects of the devastation. We follow a band of travelers in Florida who encounter unexpected racism, a group of UFO enthusiasts in California who battle tsunamis, violence and some actual flying saucers, a lunar explorer who sees the crisis up front, and a panoply of other ordinary and extraordinary people, from South Africa to Vietnam to New York to a lone sailor piloting a ship across the Atlantic.

The scenes with these characters provide The Wanderer with much of its power and momentum, as readers are swept up in the terrifying and all-too-human adventures of these hearty and terrified people. In fact, if Leiber had focused exclusively on the people and left the reason for the destruction a mystery, this might have been an even more satisfying book.

Instead, Leiber shows us the reason for the Wanderer’s presence. In those sections, the book falters. The reason the Wanderer journeys to our solar system is that the Earth is one of the remaining backwaters in the universe that’s not yet settled by a group of extraterrestrial beings looking to civilize nearly all of known space. Those beings need to use our solar system as a kind of refueling station.

The Wanderer is actually an artificial planet, filled with hundreds of levels of civilizations inhabited by creatures and cultures nearly unimaginable to most humans. Piloting the ship is a super-brilliant catlike creature named Tigerishka who captures one of the lunar explorers and explains to him the background of the plot. A rebel against the civilizers, Tigerishka is soon captured and put on trial before she runs away from her fate — but not before she and the human have some extraterrestrial intercourse.

Leiber spins up an epic tale with some memorable characters and startling situations, but the work feels a bit undercooked to me. The two key elements of the plot never quite connect with each other and the space trial comes from out of nowhere. There is precious little foreshadowing of Tigerishka’s presence, and I found the idea and execution of her to be a bit pulpy. I kept imagining the cover being similar to a Gernsback pulp with an attractive human body attached to a mysterious feline face.

Still, this is the kind of epic novel which would make for a fine film and likely a nomination for the award named for Mr. Gernsback. While I won’t be voting for it in next year’s Hugos, it’s easy see Mr. Leiber’s entertaining though flawed creation taking home honors.

Rating: three stars

[you can purchase this book or check it out at the library]

Marooned, by Martin Caidin


by Gideon Marcus

Some science fiction propels us to the farthest futures and remotest settings.  The latest book by Martin Caidin, better known by his aeronautical and space nonfiction, takes place on the very edge of tomorrow.  When the Soviets stun the world early in 1964 with the launch and docking of a pair of multi-crew spacecraft, NASA is directed to fill the space between Gordo Cooper's last Mercury flight and the increasingly delayed Gemini program.  Major Richard Pruett, a (fictional) member of the second cadre of astronauts, is tapped for a 49 orbit Mercury endurance mission, launched in July.

For three days, all goes perfectly, but at the moment of deceleration, Pruett's retrorockets refuse to fire, stranding the fellow in space.  Now, with just enough oxygen to last two more days, the hapless astronaut must somehow find a way to last three days — until the drag of the upper atmosphere seizes Mercury 7 and sends it plunging toward the Earth.

There is no question but that Caidin did his homework for the book.  Undoubtedly, the author has enough material for a lengthy reference on the Mercury program and the astronaut training process in general.  But within the gears and hard science, Caidin manages to draw a compelling profile of Pruett, sort of an amalgam of the seven Mercury astronauts.  From his first flight in a propeller plane, through a bloody stint in Korea, and past the rigorous astronaut indoctrination, Pruett gives the reader a first-person view of the experiences that make up the humans beneath the silver sheen of the spacesuit.

Marooned shines most brightly in the first and last thirds of the book.  The solitude and hopelessness Pruett's plight is vividly portrayed, and the pages fly up through about page 100.  The journey through astronaut training is more clinical, with few dramatizations to liven it up.  It will be interesting to neophytes, but any of us who read the Time Life series on the Mercury 7 (or the compilation We Seven) will find it dry.  Things pick up again when we learn of the daring rescue attempts being assembled to save Pruett from being America's first casualty in space.

With Marooned, Caidin accomplishes two goals in one book, delivering an exciting read and providing perhaps the most detailed summary of the Mercury program for the layman yet put to paper.

Four stars.

ace double F-261

The Lunar Eye, by Robert Moore Williams


Cover by Ed Valigursky

It is the year 1973, and Art Harper owns a service station on the freeway to the launch pad where soon a giant rocket will take the first twelve men to the moon.  His life had hitherto been one of complete and deliberate normality.  But then, a woman appears claiming to be one of the Tuantha, a society of humans that had gone to the moon millennia before and established a secret, highly advanced civilization.  She insists that Art is Tuanthan, too, placed with a human family like a changeling, and that he must come home.  Further complicating the mix is Art's brother, Gecko, who, while human, managed to sneak into the Tuanthan moon city during one of the frequent inter-planet teleport trips.  Now he wants to live in their lovely settlement, too.

The fly in the ointment is the upcoming lunar shot.  The Tuanthans are convinced that, should the two societies ever meet, the Earthers will dominate and ultimately exterminate them, just as the Europeans slaughtered the American Indians.  And so, the Tuanthans plan to sabotage the American lunar effort before the moon city is discovered. 

This latest book by Robert Moore Williams stands in stark contrast to Caidin's hyer-realistic Marooned.  Moore has been producing adventure stories since the '30s, and it shows.  Eye reads like something written in 1948, lacking any comprehension of technological improvements since then.  But the real flaws of the book are in its execution.  It starts out excitingly enough, and the first half reads quite quickly.  But then Art, Gecko, and the Tuanthan, Lecia, end up on the moon, and the whole thing becomes a slog of speeches and redundant scenes as the three are put on trial for treason for wanting to stop the destruction of the American moon rocket.

In fact, Williams' fiction production consists almost exclusively of novellas.  It's pretty clear he has no heart or endurance for longer works, and the padding required to cross the novel-length finish line is tiresome and obvious.  Finally, Eye is riddled with plot holes and story threads that go nowhere. 

A promising but ultimately sloppy piece: Two and a half stars.

The Towers of Toron, by Samuel R. Delany


Cover by Ed Emshwiller

On the other hand, Chip Delany's new work, a sequel to last year's Captives of the Flame, reflects an upward trend.  In the first book of the series, he introduced us to Toromon, capital of an island empire situated on Earth long after an atomic cataclysm.  The cast of characters was bewilderingly large: the decadent and young King Uske, his cousin; Prince Let, who was smuggled into the custody of the smarter, psionically gifted forest people; the capable and canny Duchess Petra; the noble and former prisoner, Jon, who along with Petra had been rendered invisible in dim light by the radiations that girdle Toron's imperial boundaries; the paternal forest person, Arkor; Tel, a poor fisherman's son; Alter, a thief and acrobat; Clea, a brilliant mathematician…

It was all a bit much, but now that I see the author is planning on doing more with the world, I can understand why he introduced so many players.  Towers does a fine job of continuing their stories, and I feel like I have a good handle on them all now.

Towers is set three years after Flame.  The empire has rediscovered the technology of matter transfer and is busy exploring the devastated planet.  A war has already been fought and won against the mutant insectoid tranu, and another is in progress against the mysterious ketzis.  It is a strange war, fought in nearly impenetrable mists thousands of miles from home.  The enemy is never seen, and its combatants (who include Tel, the fisherman's son), seem almost in a daze, unable to dwell much upon their pasts or their futures.  Meanwhile, Toromon is in increasing turmoil.  Prime Minister Chargill is assassinated.  The evil seed of the fiery enemy from the first book is discovered hidden in the mind of King Uske.  And Clea, seeking refuge in arcane mathematics after the death of her fiancee (that occurred in Flame), discovers a secret that could tear the entire empire asunder.

Tower is a significant improvement on Flame: better paced, more skillfully written, exciting.  It is no mean feat to juggle all of these viewpoints and still maintain a coherent whole.  Moreover, I appreciate the sheer variety of characters, including the prominence of several women.

I did find both fascinating and a little disturbing Delany's depiction of the three races of people that inhabit future Earth, with greater divergence than the paltry skin tone differences humanity has today.  They are practically different species, with the baseline humans being seeming to be more imaginative (though not necessarily smarter) than the "neo-neanderthals," and the forest people occupying a mental rung above the humans.  The neo-neanderthals are referred to as 'apes', and though they don't ever object, I can only imagine that the author (who is Black) is making a point.

If there's a down-side to the book, it's that it is a clear bridge to the next novel in the series, which has not yet come out.  All the threads do come to a satisfying resolution at the book's end, but the aftermath, and the coming (final?) battle with the cosmic Lord of the Flames is left for later.

Three and a half stars, and kinder disposition toward the first book.

[(this book and the others in the series can be purchased here)]

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




11 Comments Leave A Comment
Comics

[March 7, 1964] Look both ways (Marvel and National Comics round-up)

2 Comments

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


by Gideon Marcus

Overcoming prejudice

Once, I was a snob.

For the most part, I was raised on a steady diet of L. Frank Baum, Edgar Rice Burroughs, and H.P. Lovecraft.  I devoured the complete canons of each.  I also enjoyed the superhero comics of the war years — who doesn't like watching Captain America slug Nazis?  But after the war, I was getting tired of the pulps, and comics were getting tired.  I wanted something new.

Then, 'round 1950, I discovered science fiction digests — grown-up mags like Galaxy and Fantasy and Science Fiction — and my snobbish attitude was firmly established.  It didn't help that comics had entered a real slump by the 1950s, with National Comics (DC to the hep kids) in a rut and Atlas running Westerns and half-bit anthologies.  With the demise of the American News Company, Atlas went the way of the dodo, along with most of the inferior digests.  Survival of the fittest, right?

So I certainly didn't expect that I would find myself getting into those very same comics I'd once turned my nose at.  I first took notice when Marvel Comics arose from the ashes of Atlas Comics and started publication of The Fantastic Four.  Not only did this mag showcase the talents of Jack Kirby, the fellow who invented Captain America, but it featured a more realistic team dynamic than I'd ever seen before.  Why, these folks hardly even liked each other sometimes.  I appreciated the dilemma of The Thing, a hideous rock monster who nevertheless wasn't keen on returning to his human form, lest he give up his evil-clobbering powers.

Then came The Amazing Spiderman and The X-Men, and I was hooked.  I sang Marvel's virtues and scoffed at the kiddie fare that DC was peddling.  Around that time, I picked up an adversary, a Mr. Jason Sacks who delighted in telling me how wrong-headed my tastes were.

Late last year, Jason and I decided, unlike Tareyton smokers, that we'd rather switch than fight.  You see, Jason had discovered the charm of the new line-up of Marvel superheroes, and I was taken with D.C.'s new X-men-like group, the Doom Patrol.  Instead of picking a side, why not enjoy the virtues of both?

State of the Union

Here in March 1964 (May on the comics I buy at the news stand), Marvel's line-up has fully flowered.  The newest member of the superhero pantheon is Matt Murdock, a blind attorney whose other senses have compensated to such a degree (sounds inspired by Galouye's Dark Universe doesn't it?) that he is able to fight crime as The Daredevil!  The debut issue of this hero, written by Stan Lee and drawn by Bill Everett, was a hoot, and I look forward to the next.

Sidebar: I'm impressed that both comics houses are exploring the idea of handicapped heroes: Daredevil is blind, Professor X and The Chief (leaders of the X-Men and the Doom Patrol) both use wheelchairs, Thor's human form requires a cane, The Thing, Doom Patrol's Automaton and Negative Man and X-Men's Angel all have obvious physical peculiarities that make them stand out.  This makes for more mature storylines, and those of us with some kind of disability find a measure of comfort in having these folks with whom to identify.

Spiderman, a Stan Lee/Steve Ditko effort, continues to entertain.  This month's issue, #8, features the return of Dr. Octopus and spotlights the problem of recidivism amongst supervillains.

Both Fantastic Four (Lee/Kirby) and Spiderman demonstrate Marvel's increasing reliance on multi-book story arcs.  It's funny to think that two stories per issue used to be the norm — now it might take several issues to wrap up a plotline.  Speaking of Fantastic Four, in issue #24, the Thing goes toe to toe with the Hulk in a match-up every bit as exciting as the recent Heavyweight Championship between Cassius Clay and Sonny Liston. 

Avengers (Lee/Kirby) is a bi-monthly, like X-Men; in the last issue (#4), Captain America was thawed from the ice in which he's been frozen since World War 2.  I can't tell you how excited I am to have Cap back, and I urge you to check it out.

As for the "anthologies," these are increasingly becoming character books, and I have to wonder if they will just get renamed for the hero that stars in them.  For instance, Strange Tales has become the home of the mysterious Dr. Strange, although this issue also features a popular rivalry/team-up: the flaming Torch and the frozen Turd…er… Ice Man!

Journey into Mystery #103 is Thor's mag.

Tales of Suspense #52 stars Iron Man fighting the Black Widow, and an immortal alien called The Watcher.

I'm always happy to see the Wasp, and she got an outing with her beaux, Giant Man, in Tales to Astonish #54. 

And then there is the host of girls comics featuring the latest in fashion:

Let's not forget the western titles, which I don't bother with, but which still linger on.

For the WW2 buffs who don't get enough from DC's Sgt. Rock, this month's Sgt. Fury and his Howling Commandos is a riveting courtmartial drama.

Finally, I want to give recognition to the fellows who most often go unsung, the Letterers: Sol Rosen and Art Simek.  Without them, comics would be just a bunch of pictures.

Oh, and what do we have here?  Mr. Sacks is invoking the Fairness Doctrine and wants to tell us all about the state of National Comics.  Well, why not?

Better Read than Dead


by Jason Sacks

The big comic news for me in ‘64 is that the Doom Patrol have finally emerged into their own title. Moving out from an anthology slot in My Greatest Adventure, these oddball adventurers continue to delight. Thankfully National has identified the artist on this sterling series as Bruno Premiani, and the Italian master delivers fascinating tales of “The world’s strangest heroes.” For a change such a blurb is accurate, as the weird Negative Man, charmingly acerbic Robotman and enchanting Elasti-Girl continue working for the mysterious chief.  It’s similar to Marvel’s much duller X-Men — though the similarities are apparently an accident of timing, if you believe the fanzines — but more insightful and stranger.

Recently, Hawkman debuted his own solo comic after a series of showcase appearances in  Mystery In Space. National editor Julius Schwartz’s latest resurrection of a long-forgotten Golden Age character, the new Hawkman is an alien from the delightfully named Thanagar, working on Earth as a museum manager and in the stars as a great space policeman. The art, most likely by Murphy Anderson, is all National Comics smoothness and ease, making the winged wonder’s adventures a thorough delight.

With Hawkman moving out from Mystery in Space, that anthology series is now devoted to full-length tales featuring the hero of Rann, Adam Strange. With sleek, moderne art by Carmine Infantino, well known for his fabulous Flash, this thrilling series mixes astounding adventure with a smart space romance for a surprisingly heady mix that even adults can enjoy.

It’s not all greatness for National in ‘64, though. Editor Mort Weisinger continues his stultifyingly stale children’s stories in the Superman titles, while Metal Men is seldom as clever as it wants to be and Wonder Woman is so dull even my kid sister won’t pick it up. Worst of all are Batman and Detective Comics. A recent issue of Detective, issue #326, shows the nadir of this abysmal series with the pathetically stupid “Captives of the Alien Zoo,” a story so dumb and so contrived that it should result in the immediate firing of everyone responsible for its creation. Compared to that, even Archie Comics’ idiotic Adventures of The Fly seems like the work of a genius.

Overall DC is following some of the same trends Marvel has embraced recently. For one thing, a reader has to wonder if anthology series are on their way out. My Greatest Adventure disappeared while others, like Mystery in Space and House of Secrets (with the intriguing Eclipso), are going full action hero. In other ways National blazes their own trail. That company continues to have a wider diversity of titles than Marvel – hardly a surprise with the larger set of titles they deliver each month. Humor and romance still have their place with the likes of Jerry Lewis, Bob Hope, Girls’ Love Stories and Secret Hearts. As usual with National all their titles demonstrate that traditional sheen of professionalism Marvel often lacks. Will kids go for smoothness over unpredictability in ‘64? Only time will tell.

[And that's our comics round-up for San Diego Comic Fest!  If I met any of you folk this weekend, please drop me a line.  I'd love to hear from you.]




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Book

[January 10, 1964] Journey to the Stars, Journey into the Self (Starswarm, by Brian Aldiss)

2 Comments


by Jason Sacks

From many, one

Few things are more of a mixed blessing to a science fiction fan than a themed collection.

In the right hands – as with the epochal Foundation, The City and Martian Chronicles – the single-author themed collection tells a fascinating story in three dimensions, providing heft to an impact that even a full novel can’t always attain. Brian Aldiss’s new offering Starswarm doesn’t quite reach the levels of Asimov, Simak, or Bradbury but it is nevertheless an intriguing collection well worth reading.

With Starswarm, Aldiss delivers a different type of anthology than the above authors delivered. He explores inner landscapes as much as he does the alien worlds his characters inhabit. While each of these stories seems widely diverse in terms of exploring the complexity of the Starswarm, they nevertheless explore common themes of the dream of freedom, the need to break away from family, and the joy of exploration. In doing so, he makes the alien familiar. No matter how odd these characters may seem on the outside, Aldiss seems to be saying, they nevertheless share very human characteristics. This book helps bolster the assertion that Aldiss has grown into one of the foremost science fiction authors of ideas.

In Aldiss’s imagining, the Starswarm is a confederation of “two hundred and fifteen thousand planets” (as he says) and has lasted for eternities — long enough, in fact, for societies to have evolved in unique and unpredictable ways. This imaginative back-story promises a myriad of intriguing setups for readers, such as the complexities of managing such a diverse collection of planets and the unique biological imperatives of each one.

A look inside

“A Kind of Artistry” is written in a dense, ornate style which aims to approximate its alien argot. I often found the tale tough wading due to the large number of obscure words, but I responded to its powerful themes. This story tells the tale of Derek Ende, who hopes to stay with his Mistress (later shown to also be his mother) in his ancestral home but who is forced to explore the sentient planet the Cliff. In one key moment, the Cliff metaphorically takes Derek into its womb. In his emergence, Derek experiences a metaphorical rebirth made manifest in the story’s haunting final lines. The story can thus be read as a parable about the breakaway to adulthood as much as a tale of space exploration.

“Hearts and Engines” is a story of military conquering, as a brutal invading military force gives its soldiers drugs which turn them into a kind of berserker force abe to fight until their hearts burst. The other twist to this tale is that, as Aldiss writes, “they allow no weapon that cannot be carried by one man.” These warriors transform into other beings, but in doing so they brutalize their planet, their enemy and themselves. This is a thrilling tale which kept me on the edge of my seat as it went along, straight to its tragic ending.

“The Underprivileged” seemed the most clichéd story in the collection to me, a tale whose twist I figured out long before Aldiss turned the metaphorical tiger’s tale. Yet despite that, I found this story powerful. Tinged with disappointment yet with an odd level of sweetness and naïveté, this tale had an oddly intriguing resonance in light of our current post-colonial era in Africa.

“The Game of God” inverts the classic story of an explorer who has gone native with the story of “Daddy” Dangerfield, a man whose rocket ship crashes onto a primitive planet and who has been portrayed in popular fiction of the era as a kind of Tarzan-style adventurer. But Dangerfield is far from the hero people want him to be. This interesting story adroitly contrasts the myths of the heroic adventurer with the reality of a scared, scrawny man who refuses to learn anything about the planet he chooses to inhabit. A reader has to wonder if Aldiss is playing with the cliché of the great explorer, attempting to show that Western man is not fated to be the savior of every culture which seems inferior — a powerful and subtle statement. Aldiss also does an excellent job in this tale of creating a complex alien culture which feels very different from anything most readers can imagine — exactly what science fiction is great at.

“Shards” is easily the most dissonant and difficult story in this collection, a deliberately obscure and off-putting tale with a tiger’s tale ending that aims to redeem it. Though the story didn’t work for me, I admired Aldiss’s commitment to his narrative and the experimental way he explores the nature of human freedom in a world where genetic engineering transforms people into beings God could never have created.

“Legends of Smith’s Burst” is an odyssey of sorts, almost heroic fantasy, encompassing hidden castles, dogged heroes and endless wandering. Interestingly there is no female character at the center of this tale begging to be saved from the arch-villain, but the hero’s drive to succeed permeates everything. There are echoes of Tolkien and Lieber in this tale, though with an interesting science fiction twist.

“A Moon of my Delight” also highlights the selfishness of its protagonists, a ragged band of landholders and traders on a barren moon who are much more concerned with their sexual fulfillment than more spiritual ends. Though not at all sexually explicit, this is a story about adults — how they use and discard each other, how they ignore the things that don’t help them, and how they reluctantly find themselves forced into unwanted heroism. There’s a shocking death near the end of this story which took my breath away with its casual unfeeling style — a powerful moment in a subtly powerful story.

This collection wraps up with “Old Hundredth”, a meditative tale of mentors and mentees, end of lives and the power of music. It’s metaphorical and oddly powerful despite its sometimes obscure style.

Greater than the sum of its parts?

Several years ago my fellow writer Gideon Marcus wrote on this site about Brian Aldiss’s prior themed collection, Galaxies like Grains of Sand. He declared that “the style is inconsistent” and the book “[not] a complete success.” Several GJ commentators wrote in response to Mr. Marcus’s review, “there’s just something missing for me” and “I want to like this collection, and Brian Aldiss as a writer, more than I actually do.”

Perhaps this slim new volume, weak in physical coherence but strong in thematic power, will change the minds of some of my companions on this Galactic Journey. Aldiss takes us on a different journey than Simak, Asimov or Bradbury followed. I found my trip to the Starswarm to be fascinating.

4 stars.




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Fashion, music, politics, sports

[November 23, 1963] President Kennedy returns to D.C. one last time

Leave a comment

[Early this morning, the body of our slain President was flown back to Washington D.C.  Now he lies in state in the East Wing of the White House, where he will remain until 24 hours have passed.  Then will come the funeral.

Where do we go from there?]


by Jason Sacks

Camelot is over. A titan no longer walks the earth.

John F. Kennedy is dead.

Will our country — will our world? — ever be the same?

President Kennedy represented the dreams of all us. Manifested in his success and the shimmering images of his family, we saw the dreams of a perfected post-war world. In watching JFK and his family, we became participants in a triumphant America reaching its full potential, spreading our secular gospel of capitalism and freedom throughout the world.

For all of us born during or after the War, Kennedy represented everything our parents fought for, everything we aspired to as a nation, and everything the world dreamed of becoming.

And now he is gone.

Will America survive?

Of course we will. Our country is more than a single man, no matter how influential or important he is.

But JFK’s savage assassination, in front of his beloved wife Jackie, our country has lost some of its innocence. We will always feel his loss. After all, when we lose a titan, we lose a lot of what makes America its greatest self.

President Johnson is a great American, a man who I’m sure will help America transcend its weaknesses and become a more perfected version of itself.

But we will never be the same again.

Goodbye, President Kennedy. Goodbye, Camelot. We will always miss you.

No comments Leave A Comment
Comics

[September 11, 1963] Has Marvel Comics become Mighty?

2 Comments

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


by Jason Sacks

Fellow travelers, I have a confession to make.

No, I’m not moving to Russia to work for Khrushchev, I’ll never give up my anger about the Dodgers moving to Los Angeles and I will always hate the music of that ugly-voiced Bob Dillon. But I’ve changed in other ways. See, I’ve had a change of heart with my comics book collecting ways.

Though it pains me to admit it after my previous posts to this fanzine, I’ve grown to enjoy the latest offerings from Marvel Comics. 1963 has been a very good year for Stan Lee’s small publishing line. That growth makes me wonder if Marvel just might emerge as one of the premier publishers of the 1960s.

I know that comment may come as a shock, after I’ve relentlessly mocked and ridiculed that quirky, homegrown comics company in previous articles on Galactic Journey. Those feelings were honest. My complaints were sincere. But time has a way of changing things.

They say some cigarette smokers would rather fight than switch, but sometimes life throws you surprises.

Why am I changing my mind about a topic about which I seethed just a few months ago? It’s simple. These comic books are good. Amazingly, in the span of the last few months, Stan Lee and company have produced comics that are almost as compelling as some of my favorite television shows. (Heck, some of these comics are better than Bonanza or good ol’ Dr. Kildare.)

Last week’s edition of Fantastic Four, issue #21, shows the growth that creators Lee and artist Jack Kirby have brought to this title of late. Featured villain Hate-Monger is one of the spookiest villains to appear in comics since Captain America’s vicious enemy the Red Skull.

When I first saw the cover of this issue, with a giant image of the Hate-Monger zapping the Fantastic Four with his ray-gun, it really took me aback. With his ersatz purple Ku Klux Klan hood, the Monger immediately catches the eye and brings a suitable level of terror to the proceedings.

Flipping to the first page of the story, its splash delivers a tableau of dramatic intensity. The Hate-Monger, clad in chain mail and boots with his eerie hood, is situated against a background of fire and barbed wire. His body, shown in an aggressive stance, is surrounded by cameo faces of the Fantastic Four, all looking furious and spoiling for a fight. This bold image sets the tone for one of the most memorable tales of the year.

As the story begins, the Fantastic Four are hanging out in their skyscraper tower, each occupying themselves with their hobbies. One member works on an invention, another throws darts at a picture of Spider-Man, a third tries on wigs. But their daily reliquaries are interrupted by anger from the brutish Thing. “I’m so cotton pickin’ mad, I’ve gotta do something,” he rants. “That crumb who calls himself the Hate-Monger has been causin’ trouble wherever he goes because he’s too smart to break any laws.” Mr. Fantastic replies, “He’s the worst kind of menace! He preaches class hatred, race hatred, religious hatred!”

In that moment our heroes show what is at stake in this story and show that the stakes are higher than mere super-hero battles. This is a story that could have been ripped from the headlines, as the John Birchers do their best to try to stop Democratic efforts to improve America’s immigration and race relations. (I just hope President Kennedy can succeed in improving those aspects of our country, even if it takes his entire second term to do so.)

As the story proceeds, our heroes wander through New York, following the noise to hear the Hate Monger preach his hate. “We must drive all the foreigners back from where they came from! We must show no mercy to people we hate!” The Invisible Girl comments, “Reed, it’s unbelievable! He seems to have the crowd in a trance! They — they’re actually agreeing with his un-American sentiments!” Thank goodness our heroes are exemplars of our post-War consensus on race and immigration. They represent sanity and our great respect of diversity. In that way they show themselves to be real heroes.

That is, until the Monger zaps our heroes with his all-powerful H-ray.

Very quickly the Fantastic Four begin fighting each other, and rapidly the team parts ways with each other due to their anger at each other. Thankfully Reed Richards’s old war buddy Nick Fury, now working for the CIA, shows up and sends the team to help stop a revolution in the South American country of San Gusto.

What ensues reads like a comic version of Castro’s revolution, though with the Fantastic Four on one side of the battle instead of President Batista’s troops. Nick Fury, yelling about how the CIA won’t interfere in other nations’ affairs is able to help Richards escape the power of the H-ray, and soon the rest of the team is healed of its pernicious effects. As they finally defeat the Hate-Monger, our heroes unmask the arch villain. A last page climax reveals the Monger has the face of… Adolf Hitler.

Fantastic Four #21 is a dervish of a tale, a wild mix of politics, heroic action and surprising twists. This story feels both young and traditional with its focus on good and evil juxtaposed against real world concerns. It’s hard to imagine National Comics producing a comic that even mentions any level politics, let alone one that shocks readers with a cameo from Adolf Hitler or revolutions in banana republics. This issue also demonstrates another charming feature of Marvel at late: inter-character continuity. Lee and Kirby throw readers treats by including moments featuring characters like Nick Fury (whose World War II series premiered just last month) and Spider-Man. It’s almost like all these Marvel characters live in one universe!

Though not every issue of FF is so overtly political, most recent issues have been as kinetic and action-packed, and have featured equally adroit character moments. I’ve been bowled over by how thrilling these reads have been.

I’ve also come to enjoy Amazing Spider-Man, a series I once loathed. Before I was frustrated with the angsty life of problematic Peter Parker, but now I’m beginning to gain a love for this humble hero. In issue 7 of the series, former villain The Vulture returns from an earlier appearance and escapes from jail, seeking revenge against Spider-Man.

In a delightful demonstration of the small man become large, bespectacled Peter Parker finds he must sacrifice his social status at his high school in order to fight the Vulture. He also must take photographs of the battle between Spider-Man and the Vulture for a New York newspaper so he can help his elderly aunt pay her mortgage. This element gives the fight higher stakes than another hohum battle between the Flash and Captain Cold. Peter even breaks his arm during the battle with the Vulture, forcing him to lie to everyone in his life about the injury and his secret identity.

I’ve read heroic fiction for most of my life and can’t remember any hero going through such a level of personal pain in order to triumph in battle. This is a brave step out of the norm. It took some time for that angst to move from goofy pastiche to true drama, but creators Lee and Steve Ditko are continuing that journey. Ditko’s brusque art can’t compare with the slick work of Infantino or Kane on DC’s headliners, but it seems fitting for the grittiness of the story.

Thus far we’ve looked at two Marvel books released the week of September 10th that offered intriguing combinations of rough grittiness and seat-of-the-pants storytelling. But the highlight for me from last week comes in the pages of Tales of Suspense #48.

Previously, the millionaire Tony Stark dressed himself in a bulky golden suit that ill-suited our super-heroic Rockefeller. That monochrome monstrosity seemed a magnet for any villain who could melt, smash or mangle metal — or who was blinded by the sheer hideousness of a hero who dresses like a banana.

In contrast, Lee and Ditko debut dynamic new duds for Iron Man in this story. His new red-and-gold armor is a surprising and delightful treat. I love the new modern design, with its complementary colors, its open eye-slits and its nicely placed rivets. The suit looks like millionaire Tony Stark commissioned it from Pierre Cardin. If Steve Ditko of Spider-Man fame designed this suit, he’s delivered another winner.

Sadly, the story in which the suit is introduced is nowhere near the level of last week’s Spider-Man or Fantastic Four. it’s a paint-by-numbers yarn involving an evil puppet master with odd hoodoo powers. In fact, aside from the change in clothing, this issue could pass for one of the better National Comics edited by Julius Schwartz, whose work I praised in previous columns. That’s a high level of quality, one I wish the other National editors could keep up, but isn’t as good as the core Marvel books I’ve grown to love.

Marvel’s mighty releases make for a spectacularly good week for new comics, made all the more so when one considers what my former favorites at National delivered the same week. In comparison, “The Human Starfish” in Blackhawk #190 and “The Terrible Tree-Man” in Tomahawk #89 are embarrassingly juvenile.

National has delivered some wonderful comics in the last few weeks, with the pairing of Hawkman and Adam Strange in separate anthology stories in Mystery in Space #87 providing a tremendous frisson. However, it seems increasingly obvious that, with few exceptions, National’s comics are intended for children as opposed to the more adult-oriented feel of Marvel’s new heroic line. This growth in presentation has resulted in a growth in my appreciation for them, and shows that maybe, just maybe, The Traveler was right about his opinion on these comics (which I shoulda known since I value his opinions on sci-fi so much).

So yes, I’ve changed a bit as I’ve read more Marvel Comics over the last few months. The more I read comics like Fantastic Four, the more I appreciate them. With the super-hero line expanding in recent months with The Avengers, The X-Men, Dr. Strange, and the Master of Black Magic, maybe we will move into a Marvel Age of comics over the next few years after all!

2 Comments Leave A Comment
Comics

[March 4, 1963] Smart and Scientific (March 1963 National Comics Roundup)

2 Comments

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


by Jason Sacks

I like and admire the work of our dear friend, the Traveler. His insights into science fiction are outstanding (he’s turned me on to some of my favorite writers, including the delightful Keith Laumer) and his passions are infectious.

But last month, dear Mr. Marcus published an article so dunderheaded, so wrong in its conclusions, that it read like an essay by Dobie Gillis rather than from a mature and well-read adult. I’m astounded Mr. Marcus actually professed that the output of mediocre Marvel Comics was “compelling”, “on the crest of a wave”, and reaching a “fever pitch.”

Yes, these comics induce a fever, but to me it’s a fever much like the onset of polio.

With rare exceptions, I’ve always found Marvel Comics to be poorly drawn and poorly plotted, lacking the discipline of good science fiction and frequently breaking the most important rule of good science fiction; namely, getting the science right. Marvel insults their readers’ intelligence continually, especially in their origin stories. Having origin stories based on such amorphous, deus ex machina ideas as cosmic rays, gamma bombs, and the pièce de résistance, a radioactive spider, Marvel (particularly head writer Stan Lee) present a world in which science is treated as a trump card overriding all rationality. Beyond that, the art in Marvel Comics is clumsy and amateurish compared to the work appearing in both DC and Archie Adventure titles. That awkwardness is no surprise because Jack Kirby illustrates many of those titles. Kirby’s rough and tumble style may have worked in the 1940s and ‘50s, but he’s clearly behind the times in the ‘60s. He’s lucky to have found work at one of the worst publishing houses in America. It’s hard to imagine that style having much influence on future generations of comic fans, unless he tamps down the grandiosity and operatic emotions he portrays.

Characters like the bickering Fantastic Four, the brutish Hulk and the neurotic Spiderman are no heroes, not in the sense of the great men we look up to on television and the movies. They are not role models, men about whom to be inspired. Instead they are insipid antiheroic leads, out of touch with the mood of the 1960s. That may appeal to the Beats and poets, but Alan Ginsburg ain’t reading comic books.

Marcus can champion these characters all he likes, but mark my words, by 1969, Marvel Comics will be a mere footnote in comics history while the great heroes at National Comics thrive.

As I mentioned in my last essay for this journal, the costumed characters edited by Julius Schwartz at National embody all that is right and true about valor in American comic books. In Green Lantern, The Flash and the delightful “Adam Strange” in Mystery in Space, Schwartz and his team combine true heroism with real facts, giving Stan Lee and his staff of amateurs a lesson in professionalism, science and bravery.

Take the March's Flash, issue #135, as an example. The story in this issue is a disciplined, scientifically-based yarn in which The Flash and Kid Flash beat back an invasion from Korydon, “the sixteenth dimension of the cosmos.” The exciting tale begins with Kid Flash hearing a message from a beautiful (and stylishly coiffed) woman from another planet because his cellular frequency is set to her wavelength. The woman reports that her enemies have selected Earth as their next invasion location. Thankfully she is able to intercept Kid Flash and send this message. Even more thankfully, the Science Institute calls on The Flash to track down the mystery behind several strange weapons sent to Earth as part of the invasion.

What follows as part of the generous 26-page action tale is a delightful hodgepodge of science, story and super fun. We witness the power of mind over matter transforming Kid Flash’s costume, watch a super-scanner work like a color TV into another dimension (I wish I could persuade my parents to buy a color TV, whether or not it sees into another dimension!), and watch a revolution overthrow the warriors for another dimension.

Every month, editor Schwartz and artist Infantino join with their uncredited writer (or writers) to deliver stories that could come directly from the pulps, thrilling tales that tempt with action and delight with scientific fact – as in the editor’s note that mentions that “even paper can penetrate an oak tree if driven fast enough by a tornado!” Their heroes are steadfast and emotionally strong. They don’t bicker. They do what is necessary to win their wars.

Best of all, unlike the rough and tumble Jack Kirby style, “Secret of the Three Super Weapons” contains gorgeous clean line art by an artist I recognize as Carmine Infantino. Unlike Kirby’s rough designs, Infantino delivers sleek and smooth depictions of his characters. The Flash and his protégé are not muscle-bound monsters. Instead they are slick speedsters whose lean bodies carry them at superhuman speeds.

Mr. Infantino also delivers the lead “Adam Strange” story in Mystery in Space #82 (also the March issue) and again Mr. Infantino delivers his distinctively impeccable artwork to this take of a terrifying space threat that could destroy both Strange’s home planet Earth and his adoptive planet Rann.

In fact, “World War on Earth and Rann” opens with a scene that could come from those ugly creators at Marvel Comics and shows the difference between the two companies. Natives of backwards city-states of Rann are protesting Adam Strange’s presence on their planet, claiming that threats only began when he landed on their planet. Though these scenes are reminiscent of ugly moments in Marvel’s frightfully frustrating Fantastic Four series, this scene comes across as an elegant bit of real-world charm. Adam’s beautiful and beloved Alanna quickly tells Adam to move on from the complaint, so the couple can spend a romantic week together.

And so they do. After a ceremonial event, in which Adam is gifted a radiation detector, we get a tour of Rann, from its beautiful landscapes to a wonderful hunt to an amazing lunch in the ice caves of a tropical region of the planet. These sorts of charming travelogues would never appear in a Marvel Comic. They’re a delightful moment of characterization and world-building that allow the reader to breathe before the action starts in earnest.

That action starts during the lunch, as the ice caves become under threat from a giant flying lens. We witness Adam and Alanna flying and fighting the lens as equal partners (no sad wimpy Invisible Girl is she!) but Adam’s Zeta beam fires and he is returned to Earth. It’s an elegant transition to the threats Earth receives as a parallel threat is happening on our planet.

The tale flows in high action and dudgeon from there, with scenes of future fighter jets, visions of nuclear annihilation, and pneumatic technology fueling a human detective story. In a very satisfying ending, the villain of the piece is revealed not to be some craven, strange-costumed adversary but a scientist gone wrong. There’s a parable in the noble scientist driven mad by the destructive power he controls, and Infantino, Schwartz and the writer all display that story nobly. In the end, the citizens of Rann are proven wrong by the greatest power of all: the power of heroism.

In just 15 pages, readers receive an epic tale that spans two planets and multiple cities. The aliens are much more credible than those Stan Lee creates in his ridiculous tales, and science is always at the heart of these science fiction tales. In fact, science is so much at the heart of this comic book that readers also receive a one-page bonus “Giants of the Telescope” feature describing the incalculable impact William P. Rosse had upon the scientific world. Who says kids don’t want to learn as they read their comics?

For my final example of the superiority of National’s offerings I give you “The Defeat of Green Lantern” from March's Green Lantern #19. Again edited by the superior Schwartz, with art as always by Gil Kane, this tale again combines scientific knowledge with superior storytelling to deliver a tale Stan Lee’s cohorts can only dream of.

As happens so often with Schwartz-led tales, the core of the story lies with science. On the first story page, we witness an ally of Earth’s Green Lantern try to inform his colleague about a cosmo-storm that can increase “sunspot activity, atmospheric lights and odd magnetic disturbances.” As any faithful “Galactic Journey” reader (and anyone who passed a freshman high school science class) would know, these events are much more realistic than vague “cosmic rays” as a means for creating problems in the universe. It also is logical, as the writer depicts, that those disturbances should also cause problems with Green Lantern’s amazing ring.

The story centers around the craven villain Sonar, who has the nucleo-sonic ability to draw energy from sound and use that sound in a solidified manner. Sonar uses this amazing ability to try to bring recognition to his tiny European homeland. Brilliantly Schwartz and team give credibility to Sonar’s megalomania in a richer and more thoughtful way than Lee and Kirby do for the shallow Doctor Doom. (They also choose a much better name for their villain, but, again, what do you expect?) Of course, Lantern is able to defeat Sonar because his strong instincts make him realize his ring is acting strangely. Green Lantern’s heroic abilities win out over the shallow craven villainy of Sonar.

Mr. Marcus, you’re a smart man. That’s why I’m shocked and saddened by your professed ardor for some of the worst comics out there. You’d be better off reading the schlock of Archie Comics than the antiheroic, unscientific junk of Marvel Comics. On the other hand, maybe you should enjoy the adventures of the unfortunately named Spiderman as long as you can. Nobody will want to read the threadbare adventures Lee & co. are delivering. It will only be a short time till the name of the Fantastic Four reaches the dustbin of long-forgotten champions.

[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…]




2 Comments Leave A Comment
Comics

[June 7, 1962] Third-rate (the State of Marvel Comics)

7 Comments

[Famed comics expert Jason Sacks returns with a not-unmixed appraisal of the current state of Marvel Comics – in particular, evaluating the raft of new heroes they've unleashed on the universe.

Jason is not a man to mince words, you'll see…]


by Jason Sacks

Tiny Marvel Comics is at it again. Less than a year after comics’ shoestring publisher launched the rough-and-tumble Fantastic Four, Marvel has expanded their offering of new action heroes. In fact, when I visited Spencer’s Drugs in beautiful Snohomish, Washington this Tuesday, I found three premiering costumed characters with adventures to consume. I’m happy to say these offerings are more entertaining than Archie Comics’s dull Adventures of the Fly and Adventures of the Jaguar, but they are nowhere near as entertaining as most of the comics published by National.

If you remember from my last visit to Galactic Journeys, I described how Marvel is an upstart company, mostly presenting giant monster comics for bratty young children while their larger counterparts National and Dell dominate in terms of both sales and quality. A longstanding rumor has it that Marvel is even distributed by the same company that has partial ownership of National, and that parent company limits editor Stan Lee’s small enterprise to no more than eight titles per month.

Heretofore, most of Marvel’s male-oriented offerings have been either of the giant monster or cowboy variety. For example, the May number of Tales to Astonish offered A Monster at My Window – a giant-headed green monstrosity instead of a Peeping Tom – while the same month’s Strange Tales offered an orange variation of the same idea called Mister Morgan’s Monster. Meanwhile, Rawhide Kid and Gunsmoke Western offer adventures similar to Maverick or The Rifleman.

After a rocky first few issues, in which scientific concepts were handled in haphazard manners and artwork by Jack Kirby was loose and awkward, Marvel’s Fantastic Four seems to have settled into a pleasantly fun beat. In the February issue, Lee and Kirby revived the classic Sub-Mariner, last seen about five years ago in a short-lived revival of his classic comic from the 1940s. The new yarn presented a delightful revival of the Sub-Mariner/Human Torch battles from the pages of the happily-remembered Marvel Mystery Comics. In FF #4, the hep, young Human Torch finds a down-and-out Sub-Mariner living on skid row. That then triggers a delightful epic tale in which Lee and Kirby return the former king to Atlantis, where he is reunited with his subjects. Namor also falls in love with Sue Storm, the distaff member of the Fantastic Four. Though he is defeated quickly, the revived Sub-Mariner seems an ideal adversary for the Fantastics.

That is, if the new villain Doctor Doom, who premiered in the April issue #5, doesn’t take that role first. This man in the iron mask has a connection with Mr. Fantastic, the leader and scientific genius of the Fantastic Four, and their relationship gives the story much of its fuel.

If Marvel gives the rest of their books this level of care and attention, they may be able to carve out a small niche on the stands next to the super-popular Dell and National lines. My spies at the circulation houses tell me that many Dell Comics, as well as National’s Superman line, often sell over a million copies per month while Marvel’s line sells barely a quarter of them. If Dell is Coca-Cola and National is Pepsi, then Marvel is more like Royal Crown Cola, a pleasant flavor that barely registers on most peoples’ attention spans.

As I mentioned, three new costumed characters premiere this week from Marvel. Amazing Fantasy #15 debuts Spider Man, while Tales to Astonish #35 marks The Return of the Ant Man! and Journey Into Mystery #83 presents a bold take on the Norse God Thor.

One has to wonder why the obsession at Marvel with many-legged creepy crawlies. Does Archie’s The Fly sell so well that Marvel feels the need to jump into the marketplace for heroes based on multi-legged critters? People, especially girls, hate spiders, so why would anybody would want to read the adventures of a spider man. My sister is terrified of spiders so whenever one of those eight-legged monstrosities ends up behind the icebox, my father always has to kill it. Why would my sister or anybody else want to read the story of a boy with spider powers?

Especially when that boy, Peter Parker by name, is such a nebbish? As Lee and artist Steve Ditko portray Parker in his debut, the boy is a bespectacled scientific genius, hated by his fellow high school classmates and living a cloistered life with his elderly aunt and uncle. Though he attends a public school, young Parker wears a suit and tie and attends a giant scientific exhibit of radio-activity, at which he is bitten by a radioactive spider. You have to give Lee credit for smartly using the scourge of our time to create the background for this hero.

Unfortunately, Lee then takes his debuting hero down a low road when he becomes – of all things – a pro wrestler. Parker puts on a mask and confuses an almost mindless pugilist. This shows the depravity and low levels that Lee is willing to put his characters through. Rather than having his hero nobly take up the hero’s game, as would happen in a DC Comic, Lee has Peter Parker don an absurd red and blue costume (with a full head-cowl – nobody loves full head cowls) and fully embrace a career as a wrestler.
Tragically, Parker’s greed gets the best of him, as his Uncle is killed by a robber who he easily could have stopped. After a quick battle, the hero discovers his failure, and this first appearance ends on a depressing down note.

This blatant rip off of Batman’s origin is the icing on the cake of this lame and frustrating story. There are many markers here that this Spider Man will never take off as a hero, from this unappealing civilian character, drawn by S. Ditko as a complete loser, to the unappealing storyline around professional wrestling, to the awful costume and the lack of a good villain. Any attentive observer of comic books has to question why Lee and Ditko believed this character would have (eight) legs that would stick to readers’ hearts.

Even the comic he appears in shows that Marvel understands Spider Man is a loser: this comic was titled Amazing Adult Fantasy for its previous several issues and presented fantasy tales slightly better than Marvel’s normal pablum. This month, Marvel removed Adult from the title in a tacit implication that these stories are for kids only. Next time they can remove the word Amazing as well. Give me an issue of National’s Challengers of the Unknown or Sea Devils over this pap any day.

Also appearing this month is another hero inspired by creepy-crawlies. This hero, who Marvel hopes will attract a buzz, is Ant-Man. (Incidentally, recent Marvels have also featured a giant scorpion and the story The Man in the Bee-Hive; has editor Lee been studying for an insect-keeping examination?)

Though ants are loved even less than spiders, at least the origin of Ant-Man makes more sense than the Spider Man story. As presented in Tales to Astonish #35, Ant-Man is simply a scientist who discovers a special formula to shrink himself, which triggers an adventure that could have come from the outstanding 1950s flick The Incredible Shrinking Man.

See, scientist Henry Pym has developed both a shrinking formula and an anti-radiation formula. The Commies thus want to kidnap Pym to gain his knowledge of the anti-rad ability so they can safely launch a nuclear war. Pym fights back, donning a flashy red suit as the Ant-Man. Of course he defeats the baddies in the end. The story has some effective scenes – there’s a great moment in which stinger ants crawl up a commie’s leg and defeat him – but this story is only marginally more successful than the one introducing Spider Man. At least it stars a more conventional leading character, since a brilliant scientist is inherently much more interesting than a sad teenager who dresses as a spider. In any event, this Ant-Man is much less interesting than the brilliant Atom (one of Julius Schwartz’s proud publications) at National Comics – and his name is silly, too.

Thor, premiering in Journey into Mystery #83, is the best of these three premiering heroes, but that’s like comparing a Perry Como song to a Bobby Vinton song. I’d rather be listening to The Loco-Motion and reading National Comics than Vinton and Marvel, but when you have to listen to music, Vinton will do.

Marvel’s reborn Thor is the Norse god reborn in the body of frail doctor Donald Blake, “helpless without his cane”, who journeys to Norway for unknown reasons and becomes enmeshed in a battle with the rocky green Stone Men from Saturn. The Stone Men resemble the statues from Easter Island and are the same old hokey Marvel monsters, but this new hero seems like he could be an up-and-comer.  The uncredited artist – who seems to be the same man who drew the adventures of Ant-Man – delivers a dynamic tale that uses storytelling that’s different from the clean lines I’m used to seeing in the pages of The Flash or Green Lantern. The approach is bold and intense, with frequent use of blackout panels.

Of course, the storyline with the stone men from Saturn is a typically rotten Marvel storyline, still another kiddie kreation of giant monsters battling to destroy the Earth. This terribly cliched plot would have fit comfortably in previous issues of Journey into Mystery. Hopefully Marvel will bring the whole background of Norse mythology into this comic and allow readers the chance to see Loki, Odin and the amazing Asgard. Hopefully, too, Marvel will rectify their coloring mistake and color Thor’s hair red, as it should be.

Mark my words: June 5, 1962, will be a date that is quickly forgotten when someone one day writes the history of comic books in America. Thor might be remembered by a few, but you can bet your bottom dollar that this Spider Man will be quickly forgotten. Thankfully I was able to pick up this month’s issue of The Flash this week to wash the awful taste out of my mouth.

7 Comments Leave A Comment