Readers don’t need to be reminded that the Winter Olympics in Grenoble, France came to a close just two weeks ago. Of course, most of the attention has gone to French skier Jean-Claude Killy, who took all three gold medals in the Men’s Alpine events, and American Peggy Fleming’s absolutely dominating performance in the Ladies’ Figure Skating competition. But the Games also saw many firsts. Norway took the most medals with 14, taking the top spot from the Soviet Union for the first time since the latter began participating. Morocco fielded a team for the first time (believe it or not, there’s decent skiing in the Atlas Mountains), and East and West Germany participated as separate countries for the first time. This was also the first time the Winter Games were broadcast in color.
There were also some new rules. There has been growing concern over the last few years about athletes taking various drugs to improve their performance, commonly called doping. In 1967, the International Olympic Committee finally joined most other sport associations in instituting a ban on the practice. A total of 86 athletes were tested for various substances, and all tests came back negative. The IOC also began performing sex tests on female athletes this year in order to prevent intersex persons from competing in women’s competition. None were found, but after the policy was announced last year, several Eastern European athletes announced their retirement, which prompted a great deal of speculation.
The stars of the show. (l.) Jean-Claude Killy sporting his medals. (r.) Peggy Fleming in her spectacular performance.
Rules that bend, rules that break
Sometimes rules may be onerous, wrong, or perhaps just inconvenient. Maybe you need to bend them a little, maybe you need to break them and replace them with something better. The stories in this month’s IF offer several cases in point.
The Advanced Guard prepare to study the fauna of Chryseis. Art by Vaughn Bodé
Richard Muller was one of Earth’s top diplomats when he was sent to make contact with the first aliens humanity had discovered. On his return, he discovered that no one could stand to be around him for more than a few minutes, for reasons that are not yet explained. In disgust, he retreated to the desolate planet Lemnos and the heart of a million-year-old city surrounded by deadly traps. Now his services are needed again. Charles Boardman, the man who sent Muller on the mission that gave him his affliction, and Ned Rawlins, the son of Muller’s late best friend, have come to recruit him. With the aid of robots to plan a safe route through the maze, they make their way deep into the city. As the installment ends, young Ned is about to find Muller. To be continued.
A robot seeks the next lethal trap. Art by Gaughan
If this sounds familiar, that’s because Silverberg is working with the myth of Philoctetes, the heir to the bow of Hercules whose festering wound caused the Greeks to maroon him on the way to Troy, but who is needed for their victory. More specifically, he’s using the play by Sophocles with a bit of Algis Budrys’s Rogue Moon thrown in for excitement. Muller is Philoctetes, Boardman is wily Odysseus, and Rawlins is the naive and honorable Neoptolemus, son of Achilles. This is all set-up, with Muller’s past revealed in flashbacks as the viewpoint shifts among the three main characters. It’s very good, but the meat will come in the next installment.
A very high four stars, with a probable five for the whole thing.
The Edward Salant Letters, by Jerry Juhl
A series of letters between a customer having trouble with his Phonotyper and the computerized service department of American Business Equipment.
Do not fold, spindle or mutilate. Art uncredited
Jerry Juhl is this month’s new author. More interestingly, he is a writer and puppeteer for the Muppets, which American readers may have seen on The Tonight Show, The Mike Douglas Show, or in commercials. Readers outside the U. S. are probably out of luck, but keep your eyes open for them. They’re very, very funny. As for the story, we’ve seen this a hundred times, but this one has an unusual twist that makes it fresh. I certainly didn’t see it coming.
A group of Neo Calvinists from the planet Francisco has stopped at Lorn on their way to Kinsolving’s Planet. Around a century ago, a Stone Age man, an artist who made animals appear by making cave paintings of them, appeared there. He eventually found his way to Francisco and joined the Neo Calvinists. Also with them is the cave artist’s great-granddaughter, one of Francisco’s Blossom People, who practice a sort of hedonistic Zen. The Neo Calvinists believe she has inherited her ancestor’s power and want to use her to bring the Lord to Kinsolving’s Planet and make it a New Sinai. To his great dismay, Commodore John Grimes has been ordered to accompany them as an observer.
They look like fun. Art by Morrow
John Grimes is a man who enjoys his pipe and likes a good tipple. He’s the last person who should be locked in a small ship with this straitlaced bunch. Of course, that’s where this story gets its humor and most of its tension. It’s an enjoyable read if you’ve liked some of Grimes’ earlier adventures, but the ending is a bit confused and rushed.
Three stars.
Meanwhile, Back at the Worldcon…, by Lin Carter
Carter wraps up his report on last year’s Worldcon. It’s mostly more name-dropping, a brief mention of the costume ball, and an enumeration of the Hugo Awards. As I said last month, you're better off reading the Journey’s con report.
A low three stars.
The Product of the Masses, by John Brunner
An Advanced Guard unit under Commander Jeff Hook has been dispatched to the planet Chryseis to assist Dr. Leila Kunje and her team of biologists in studying the local fauna. Unfortunately, the loose, non-hierarchical style of the Advanced Guard are at odds with the extremely repressed (or uptight as the kids are saying these days) attitude of Dr. Kunje. An attitude so repressed it blinds her to some obvious facts, causing problems for everyone.
The local fauna to be studied. These are the smaller males. Art by Vaughn Bodé
They say John Brunner is two authors: the literary New Wave writer who sells to the British market and the outdated hack who writes for the American market. This is work even the hack ought to be ashamed of. Dr. Kunje is a character type that only British male authors seem to write: deeply, angrily sexually repressed to the point of denying the existence of sex, love or even affection. I’m reminded of the journalist in Arthur C. Clarke’s A Fall of Moondust who suffers from “impacted virginity.” No zoologist who is unable to see the glaringly obvious facts in this story would ever have risen to the level that would allow her to be chosen for this mission. It’s a pity, because this could have been a fun, if inconsequential adventure story.
Barely two stars, based only on Brunner being able to string together entertaining sentences.
On the planet Plateau, Matt Keller has become involved with the Sons of Earth, who hope to overthrow the rule of the crew and become more than a labor force and source of organs. When the group was arrested, Matt managed to escape thanks to his strange ability to make people forget he exists. Meanwhile, a mysterious new technology has arrived from Earth via unmanned ramjet. Matt rescued the leadership of the Sons of Earth, and a bit of coincidence brought them into contact with planetary leader Millard Parlette. Together, they start work on a compromise that will put an end to the unjust treatment of the colonists and one day lead to the end of the organ banks. Unbeknownst to them, Matt and another rebel have entered the Hospital again on slightly different rescue missions.
Matt quickly learns to control his power and discovers a corollary power as well. He rescues the girl he fell for back in the first installment, but she proves either to have been driven insane by torture or to have been a fanatic all along. Meanwhile, the politicians come to the realization that there are more factions than just crew and colonist. Talk will have to be backed up by action.
And as the story ends, an Earth ramrobot bound for We Made It catches the attention of the space-dwelling alien merchants known as the Outsiders.
Matt takes a dive. Art by Adkins
Once again, the more interesting bits are people sitting around talking politics. The action verges on the repetitive, and while the actions of the young woman Matt rescues result in the main antagonist getting his just deserts, they felt unjustified by the story. Of course, we barely got to know her at all, so that could be part of the problem. Nevertheless it’s an enjoyable read. It’s also a reminder that the real work begins once the revolution ends. Plateau has a long way to go to become the equitable and just society we saw in The Ethics of Madness.
Three stars for this installment, but I think the whole is greater than the sum of its parts and might be worth four stars.
Summing up
When I finished the magazine, I thought it was the best issue of IF in over a year. After all, when the worst story is by John Brunner, it’s got to be pretty good, right? Unfortunately, that Brunner story really brings down the average. Still, it does hold the end of pretty good novel, the start of a novel that may be very, very good, and a couple of decent stories. I think I’d be happy if IF was this enjoyable every month.
Looks like MacApp may be investigating another alien society, and new Zelazny. Fingers crossed!
I have no idea what to make of tonight's episode of Star Trek
Whilst reading the Times a couple of months I was surprised to see a mention of my favourite SF periodical turn up.
Source: The Times 28th September 1967
As regular readers of the publication will know they have managed to get a new publisher (Stonehart) and are continuing on with only a single month’s break to reorganize. What interested me most was the third paragraph, that there were some more adventure stories he was writing specifically for the US market. I have not come across The Jade Man yet but The Twilight Man actually is the book form of his The Shores of Death already released.
And I was able to discover that The Jewel in the Skull was coming out in America in December.
Now Moorcock’s adventure stories are a mixed bag. For every Elric there is a Michael Kane. But with such an anti-endorsement from the writer himself, how could I not want to read it?
In one of my favourite kind of settings, post-apocalyptic fantasy, the world has returned to a state of medieval kingdoms fighting each other, with modern technology treated as ancient sorceries people struggle to understand.
This book is primarily set in the Europe of this future, where the dark empire of the Granbretans is attempting to conquer the continent in the name of its King-Emperor. The powerful kingdom of Kamarg remains independent with Count Brass and his fortress of Castle Brass. Baron Meliadus of Kroiden attempts to gain their support for the empire but is thrown out when he attempts to rape the Count’s daughter Yisselda. Swearing an oath by the Runestaff to control the count and seize his daughter for himself he concocts a plan to do so.
In the dungeons of Londra is the rebellious Duke of Köln, Dorian Hawkmoon. He gives Hawkmoon an offer he can’t refuse, granting him his lands back and his freedom if he goes to Castle Brass, kidnaps Yisselda and brings her back to London. As additional motivation, a black jewel is implanted in his skull. This will allow the Granbretans to monitor him at all times and they can also use it to destroy his mind whenever they choose. And so Hawkmoon rides to Castle Brass on this fraught mission.
When I first opened this book I was worried this was going to be another Barbarians of Mars, with some incredibly overwritten descriptions and cod-Shakesperean dialogue. Thankfully, the style soon settles down and we get something much thicker than the Sub-Tolkien fantasy at first suggested. In fact there are some wonderful choices of imagery, a kind of combination of the gothic and the psychedelic.
As you can probably see from the description, this is not a setup where there are any easy heroes. It is also fascinating to see a tale where the British are explicitly setup as “The Dark Empire”, with people regularly suggesting the entire nation has gone insane and our representative of them a manipulative rapist. Instead, our lead character is a German, the inverse of what you will see whenever you go to the cinema.
This is only the first story in a series, so there is a lot left to be told, but, overall, this is an interesting and entertaining fantasy.
Four stars
by Victoria Silverwolf
Synchronicity
As fate would have it, I recently read two new science fiction novels featuring psychiatrists named Paul. In addition to that, both protagonists are involved with women who have a hard time pronouncing that name. Other than this odd coincidence, the books have little in common, except that they both involve people who have traveled a long distance.
The first mental health professional we'll meet is Paul Marlowe. He's a psychiatrist aboard the starship Gloria Mundi. (Given the familiar Latin phrase containing those words, that seems like asking for trouble.)
When the novel opens, he's in prison on an alien world. Two other members of the crew, captured at the same time, are dead. Before all this happened, the nine remaining folks aboard the ill-fated vessel disappeared while exploring the planet. For some reason, the locals have supplied him with a concubine, even in prison. That's the woman who can't pronounce Paul correctly. Her name, by the way, is Mylai Tui.
Meanwhile, Gloria Mundi destroys itself, as it's programmed to do when all the crew is gone for a certain amount of time. Sounds like a design flaw to me, but the idea is to keep it from falling into the hands of hostile aliens.
With no way to return to Earth, Paul Marlowe decides to fit into his new world. He does this by creating a second self, in a way. When acting like one of the locals, he calls himself Poul Mer Lo. This mental exercise allows him to control his emotions when witnessing things like child sacrifice.
(I couldn't help wondering if this was a sly allusion to Poul Anderson, whose first name is famously difficult to pronounce unless you're Scandinavian.)
Paul pretty much accepts Mylai Tui as his wife, although he was already married to one of the missing crew members. The marriage was one of convenience, mostly, although the two were fond of each other. Paul left his true love back on Earth, because he wanted to travel to the stars so badly. Be careful what you wish for!
A parallel to Paul's double identity is found in the local god-king, a young man who often takes on a second persona as a peasant, in order to speak freely with Paul in a way he can't as a divine ruler. Their relationship, in which the god-king is eager to learn Earth ways from Paul, may be the most intriguing part of the book. It also creates some suspense, as the god-king is only allowed to rule for a year, after which he is ritually killed.
The plot really begins when Paul and some local companions make a dangerous journey through enemy territory and deadly jungles to an ice-covered mountain. He makes an extraordinary discovery, learns what happened to the missing crew members, and even finds out why the inhabitants of the planet are very similar to Earthlings but have only four fingers on each hand.
The alien culture is interesting and vividly portrayed. Paul is not a very sympathetic protagonist. He beats Mylai Tui when she struggles to pronounce his name correctly, for one thing. The latter half of the book turns into a quest adventure, which is fine if you like that sort of thing. The revelation at the end of the trek to the mountain strains credibility. Overall, a mixed bag.
Our next psychiatrist is Paul Fidler. He works at a mental hospital. You'll get to know him well, because much of the book consists of his interior monologues. They're set off from the rest of the text in the manner I'll demonstrate in the next paragraph.
–I hope the editor likes this article.
Paul has doubts about his career and his marriage. He also has a habit of imagining the way that things might have gone badly in the past. It's kind of the opposite of the wistful thinking we probably all do. You know, something like If only such-and-such had happened. Besides all this, he hides the fact that he had a nervous breakdown some time ago from everyone, even his wife.
After spending some time with this sad fellow, the plot gets going when a badly injured man staggers into a pub. He claims a naked woman attacked him. Could it be one of the inmates at the hospital?
Nope. Paul soon runs into the woman, a tiny little thing, sort of like the diminutive Sister Bertrille. Don't worry, she doesn't fly.
As I've indicated, she has trouble saying Paul correctly. She speaks an unknown language, but manages to indicate that her name is Arrzheen. That gets distorted into Urchin by the folks at the hospital, which fits her pretty well.
Much of the book deals with Paul's attempt to solve the mystery of Urchin. What was she doing naked in the woods on a cold, rainy night? How did such a small woman, who hardly seems out of her teens, severely injure a much bigger man? (We'll find out later it was self defense.) Why can't expert linguists identify her speech or her written language? Why does she seem baffled by ordinary objects?
A strange form of mental illness, or something else? (Hint: this is a science fiction novel.)
Urchin proves to be extraordinarily intelligent, and she picks up English quickly. Paul's marriage falls apart completely. Through the use of hypnosis, he learns more about Urchin. He tries to help her adjust to the outside world.
Let's just say that things go a little too far. After some misleading hints about Urchin, we find out the truth at the very end. Don't expect a happy ending.
As with the Cooper's novel, the protagonist is not always very likable. What he does at the end may disturb you. The book seems almost like introspective mainstream fiction, with a science fiction premise forced into it. It's more to be admired than loved, I think.
Three stars.
by Gideon Marcus
The fourth book for this Galactoscope turns out to be another kind of fourth book: Emil Petaja has written the fourth (and final?) book in his science fiction translation of the Finnish national epic, The Kalevala. It's an unusual novel in that it stars a villain, of sorts. Let's learn more about the…
Kullervo Kasi is a most unlovely man. Born of the chance interaction between a rent in the universe and a random act of sex, he is half human/half evil energy. Physically, he is a gnome-like character, though not without a strong back. Humans instinctively recoil from him. When we first meet him, he is on one of the thousands of colonies of humanity, the race exiled to the stars after their home world had been exhausted. Kullervo is bullied near to death, from which he escapes by a jump into a chasm to (he believes) his doom.
But Louhi the star witch has other plans. She takes Kullervo under her wing, unlocks the intelligence lying dormant in his genes as the reincarnation of the ancient Kalevalan anti-hero, Kullervo, and sends him to the wasted Earth. His mission: to destroy any remnants of humanity–the Vanhat race–that may yet survive on the ruined world.
This is for whom we should be rooting?
Well, yes. It's hard not to feel sorry for Kullervo. He was born with a handicap; his human tormentors have no such excuse. Once he arrives on Earth, and through cunning, endurance, and not a little (if grudging) selflessness, surmounts obstacle after obstacle, one can't help admiring the guy. In the end, if he is not exactly the hero of the story, he certainly is the catalyst for a great good.
Such an unusual protagonist is refreshing, indeed. Plus, Petaja really can spin a quill, offering a neo-pulp adventure with a mythical base. His depictions of the rusting supercities, the floating junk islands, and the recovering crags of Scandinavia have a rich, Burroughsian flavor. I particularly enjoyed Kullervo's adventures with Billyjo, a renegade coast-dweller. Their run-in with the pirates of the roving islands, and Kullervo's short-term subjugation to Queen Fiammante, reminded me somewhat of my favorite Baum book, John Dough and the Cherub. I also found interesting the implication that Kullervo, hideous as he was, had a strange appeal to women–both Fiammante and Louhi make him their lover, and the people who treat Kullervo poorly are invariably men.
Tramontane is not a great book: for one thing, it's not science fiction, but space opera. It's also not consistently written: the middle third is excellent, but the last third lags a touch and is quite literally a deus ex machina situation. Still, it is a thoroughly enjoyable book, and it stands well enough alone (I haven't read any of the other books in the series: Saga of Lost Earths, The Star Mill, or The Stolen Sun.)
Three and a half stars.
(Note: Tramontane comprises one half of Ace Double H-36; the other half is Moorcock's The Wrecks of Time, previously reviewed by Mark Yon. The Ace version has apparently been butchered to fit the format, the greatest casualties being the naughty bits.)
by Cora Buhlert
Sex in the Real World
The most shocking film of the year is currently playing in West German cinemas. It's called Helga – Vom Werden des menschlichen Lebens (Helga – About the Development of Human Life) and has caused scores of cinema goers to faint.
But what exactly is so shocking about Helga? Well, Helga is a movie about – gasp – sex. The plot is simple. An interviewer asks pedestrians in the street about sex education and birth control. Next we meet the protagonist: Helga (newcomer Ruth Gassmann), a naïve young woman pregnant with her first child. Like many women, Helga knows very little about her body and what is happening inside her womb. Luckily, a kindly gynecologist explains the mechanics of conception and pregnancy to Helga and the viewer. The movie then follows Helga through her pregnancy and also documents the birth of her child. It's this birth scene – shot in full, gory detail – that makes particularly male viewers faint in the cinema… and hopefully think twice before impregnating a woman.
In spite of the frank scenes, Helga is not pornography, but an educational film intended to teach West Germans about human sexuality. Shot in a pseudo-documentary style and interspersed with animations showing the human reproductive system, Helga does what parents and schools all too often fail to do, namely teach young and not so young people about their bodies. The film was produced by West German Secretary of Health Käte Strobe, a sixty-year-old lady from Bavaria and unlikely champion of sex education.
West German Secretary of Health and champion of sex education Käte Strobel
But don't take my word for it. Because American International has purchased the distribution rights for Helga, so you can soon see it in a theatre near you.
I wasn't enamoured with John Norman's debut novel Tarnsman of Gor and didn't plan on reading the sequel. However, December 6 is St. Nicholas Day and since St. Nick was kindly enough to put a copy of Outlaw of Gor into my stocking, I of course felt obliged to read and review it.
When I reviewed Tarnsman of Gor earlier this year, I noted that John Norman was obviously inspired by the Barsoom novels of Edgar Rice Burroughs. This influence is even more marked in Outlaw of Gor, for while Tarnsman opened with protagonist and first person narrator Tarl Cabot, Outlaw uses a Burroughs type framing device and opens with the statement of an attorney named Harrison Smith, who describes at great length his relationship with Cabot, Cabot's physical appearance, his mysterious disappearance and reappearance.
Years later, Cabot and Smith rekindle their acquaintance. Eventually Cabot hands Smith the manuscript for Tarnsman of Gor and vanishes again. Smith publishes the manuscript, as the law of framing devices demands, as well as the sequel, which he finds waiting for him on his coffee table.
It is helpful to briefly recapitulate the previous book in an ongoing series for the reader, but the statement of Harrison Smith goes on for pages upon pages. Nor does the novel need a framing device, because this is 1967, not 1912, and readers are accustomed to fantastic adventures in alien worlds by now.
A Gorean Travelogue
The story proper finally starts with Tarl Cabot giving us an extended description of the Gorean scenery, customs, flora and fauna. One of my complaints about Tarnsman was that the opening third of the novel was a dull and interminable lump of information, because Norman was an inexperienced writer uncertain how to present information about his world to the reader. I had hoped that Norman's writing skills would have improved by his second book. Sadly, they have not.
After a trek through the wilderness, Tarl Cabot finds his hometown Ko-Ro-Ba destroyed by the Priest-Kings and its people, including Cabot's father and his mate Talena, scattered to the four winds. Cabot himself is now an outlaw and decides to avenge himself on the Priest-Kings. Again, the parallels to Burroughs are notable, because John Carter also found himself separated from his hometown and wife upon his return to Barsoom and forced to deal with overbearing godlike beings in The Gods of Mars back in 1913. Indeed, many things in Tarnsman and Outlaw of Gor only happen to Tarl Cabot because they happened to John Carter first.
Before meeting the Priest-Kings, Cabot pays a visit to the city of Tharna, which is remarkable for two reasons. One, all Goreans, regardless of their origin, are welcome in Tharna. Two, Tharna is ruled by a woman and – unlike the rest of Gor – women are revered in Tharna and not treated as slaves or possessions.
It's a Women's City… or is it?
The position of women and the institution of slavery on Gor played an important role in Tarnsman and crops up again in Outlaw. And indeed, the descriptions of Gorean slave girls seem to be what attracts many readers to these books. As a modern man of the Sixties, Tarl Cabot abhors slavery and the oppression of women in general, though it is not clear, if the author shares these views, since the narrative repeatedly notes that the slave girls are happy with their lot after initial resistance and that the free women of Gor, who are kept locked up and only venture outdoors in heavy veils, comparable to practices in many Muslim countries, which are thankfully modernising, secretly envy the slave girls their relative freedom. These aspects make the Gor books more disturbing than a simple Burroughs pastiche should be.
Compared to other Gorean cities, Tharna is described as a grey and depressing place full of grey and depressed men. Apparently, treating women like human beings tends to make cities grey and men depressed. In general, Cabot seems inordinately concerned with cities and their appearance, at one point comparing the run-down New York City unfavourably to Gorean cities. I wonder if Cabot (and his creator) blames women for the sorry state of New York City, too.
Revenge of the Masked Lesbians
Cabot has only been in Tharna for a few hours, when he is approached with an offer to kidnap the Tatrix Lara, the city's ruler. He refuses, finds himself framed for a crime and condemned to die in the arena for the amusement of the Tatrix and the haughty masked women of Tharna. Cabot also learns the reason why Tharna is uncommonly hospitable towards strangers – because they are enslaved to labour in the fields or mines. What is more, men are viewed as little more than animals in Tharna and the women are forbidden from loving men, though encouraged to love each other.
Cabot manages to escape with the help of his tarn, the giant bird creatures warriors of Gor ride into battle. However, rather than continuing his journey to see the Priest-Kings, Cabot instead decides to liberate Tharna from the haughty masked lesbians. Needless to say he succeeds and decrees that what the masked lesbians of Tharna need is a man and some good old fashioned Gorean slavery to teach them how to love. Reader, I puked.
Honestly, just read Burroughs
Tarnsman of Gor was mildly spicy Burroughs pastiche. But while John Norman's fascination with slavery, whips, hoods and shackles was already evident, I did not sense anything prurient or anti-feminist in Tarnsman.
Outlaw, however, is another matter. Particularly the second half of the novel and its anti-feminist conclusion gave me the same creepy crawly feeling that Piers Anthony's Chthon did. Worse, since Cabot has neither found the Priest-Kings nor his true love Talena by the end, I fear there will be at least one more Gor book. However, I will not read it.
If you like swashbuckling adventures on alien worlds, Edgar Rice Burroughs' entire catalogue is back in print and the excellent planetary adventures of Leigh Brackett are easy enough to find as well. If you like the spicier aspects, there is plenty of sleaze to be found in the paperback spinner racks, some of it – so I am reliably informed – written by genre stalwarts such as Robert Silverberg and Harlan Ellison under pseudonyms.
However, don't bother with Outlaw of Gor or its predecessor.
One star.
St.Nicholas and his helper Knecht Ruprecht deliver treats and presents to kids in Bremen's historical Schnnor neighbourhood
There's a new novel out by Ted White, the longtime assistant editor for The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Despite its goofy title, the new Secret of the Marauder Satellite is a wonderful quick read with some clever turns of phrase and interesting insights into its lead character.
Our lead is a young man named Paul Williams, recently graduated from "space cadet" school (as he half-dismissedly calls it) and ready for his first major assignment, aboard a satellite orbiting the Earth which also works as a staging site for mankind's further trips through the Solar System.
As you might imagine from a book like this, Paul is a bit of a prodigy in a space suit. He receives a plum assignment, as a roving salvage man assigned to pick up space junk and haul it back to the station for recycling. With resources short on the station, such a job is extremely useful and important. But during his second mission in that role, Paul makes a fateful and surprising discovery which indicates mankind might not have been the first race to orbit Earth's moon.
White separates his prose from his peers with its vividness of description and clever ways he brings common events to life. For instance, he explains why rocket launches require countdowns in the kind of matter-of-fact detail that had me nodding my head, and his explanation of gravitational inertia is as elegant as it is concise.
Mr. White
But the element that really elevates this book is the way White explains Paul's inner life. We learn early on that Paul is an introvert and has trouble talking with people. But White takes pains to show readers Paul's vast intelligence and his completely broken childhood, with Paul's arrogant unfeeling parents seldom giving their small child more than a smidge of attention as they slept and drank their ways through their hedonistic lives. With this background, it becomes clear why Paul was motivated to be a high achieving astronaut, but it also explains why he had trouble with peers and with members of the opposite sex.
Secret of the Marauder Satellitepacks a lot into its short length, and every word was necessary. This book teases at the potential for Ted White to deliver a masterpiece, but its brief length does work against the story. The story moves at a breakneck speed but that rapid pace doesn't quite give the reader enough time to consider all the impacts of its events. Ignore the goofy title and spend an enjoyable couple of hours with Paul White.
With so much news about social reforms or issues in Rhodesia and Aden, it is easy to forget that the economy was one of the main issues that led to Wilson’s election as Prime Minister, in particular dealing with the trade deficit.
For almost a decade now Britain has been importing more than it has been exporting. With this many British consumers are choosing foreign made goods over domestic ones causing problems for local industry, not a good look for a country that was once dubbed “The Workshop of the World.”
The reasons for this date back a long way. From early adoption of manufacturing and overreliance on imperial exploitation, to the spending of Post-War American aid on military ventures (instead of the intended economic strengthening). However, one of the biggest is the value of the pound.
Whilst other countries trying to recover after the Second World War, such as Japan, had their currency set low, Britain strived to keep its value high. It has even become a point of national pride to have the Sterling as a major player in international trade, and devaluing had been something that had to be avoided at all costs.
Wilson and Callaghan, probably not as happy any more
However, world events have continued to put trade and the currency under strain. With the Arab-Israeli war, the fighting in Aden and failure to join the EEC, it was seen by Wilson as a necessary act. Whilst the economic impact will likely come later, the political impact has already been major. The chancellor, Jim Callaghan, has resigned and there have been attacks from all ends of the political spectrum that this is a breach of trust.
As I read this month’s stories in the anthology "New Writings in SF 11" and magazine "Beyond Infinity", I could not help but wonder if there was some devaluation going on here as well. The quality I was getting for my money seemed to decline as I read on:
Dobson’s hardback release was delayed, meaning we get the Corgi paperback (and their much prettier cover) first this time.
In another change the theme here is much broader, with imaginative looks at humanity’s future.
The Wall to End the World by Vincent King
Following his brilliant Defence Mechanism, Vincent King gives us another spectacular tale. Five thousand years earlier, the ancients built the Wall, a thousand-mile circle to protect the ordinary people in the City and the Teachers in their Citadel. Our narrator is an officer of the Wall, determined to protect it from all invaders. When he discovers the return of the ancient ones and the appearance of a new star in the sky, he knows the prophecy of the end is coming true.
In a beautiful and cleverly written 25 pages, King gives a deeper more complex world brimming with science fictional concepts than most writers manage in an entire novel series. There is fascinating mix of old & new technologies, with looking screens and robots mentioned in the same breath as horses and crossbows. But it is never ponderous or boring. Throughout it races along like the best adventure stories.
Five stars, only because I can’t give it a sixth!
Catharsis by John Rackham
Professor Caine is on the verge of a major breakthrough in particle physics, when he starts getting terrible headaches. After he checks into Dr. Halleweg’s clinic he discovers he only has 48 hours left to live.
A more experimental story than I would expect from Rackham with limited SFnal content. It is solid but feels like it is aiming for the current New Worlds style without really getting there.
Three Stars
Shock Treatment by Lee Harding
Pietro struggles to keep his memories and personality intact as he searches for The Great Engine of the world.
This is the kind of slow atmospheric apocalypse that seemed to fill the British magazines after Aldiss’ Greybeard was published. Not bad but nothing new.
Three Stars
Bright Are the Stars That Shine, Dark Is the Sky by Dennis Etchison
Space travel has failed to provide a suitable home for humanity and has been abandoned. With Los Angeles’ population reaching twenty million the old city is being torn down to provide enough housing for everyone. This vignette follows a young boy and an ex-spacer night watchman as they visit The Museum of Space Science and Technology before it is destroyed.
This is a lovely melancholy tale of the loss of innocence and the danger of losing hope in the future. Simple but memorable.
Four Stars
There Was This Fella… by Douglas R. Mason
Alf Pearson has a problem: he keeps jumping between planes of reality. His doctors think he is just highly suggestible, but what is real?
I felt this concept was already used to better effect in de Camp’s Wheels of If. I am not sure if I missed something important or if it was all just a bit hollow.
Two Stars
For What Purpose? by W. T. Webb
After an explosion at the Grenville Power Station, Tom Berkley finds himself in Marginburg: town like Grenville but tinged with bizarre touches, such as the sky being patched up with newspaper, an enormous house with no windows, and regular raids from pirates. How did he get here? And can he get back home?
This one is tough to know what to make of, because much of it has the surrealism of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and then it ends in a manner that could either be read as genius or nonsense. I will be generous and choose the former.
Four Stars (or Suit-of-Armour Newsprint in Marginburg).
Flight of a Plastic Bee by John Rankine
Paul Karadoc is sent to investigate Station K, repository of secure knowledge in orbit around planet Earth, populated by artificially prolonged humans known as Biomechs. Information has been leaking out of the station and it is up to Karadoc to discover how and why.
This is the second tale from Mr. Mason and an even weaker one, I found it dull and often incomprehensible. Even Doctor Who’s Cyberman adventures do a better job of exploring some of these themes.
I have been reliably informed this is the same Hargreaves who wrote Tee Vee Man 4 years ago, just with a different first initial, possibly a typographical error. Talking of mistakes, this is the story of Joe Schultz, a man accidentally declared dead in a future where administration is primarily run by computers.
This starts out as an interesting Kafkaesque tale, but soon descends into pure silliness.
Two Stars
The Helmet of Hades by Jack Wodhams
On the planet Albermarle, the inhabitants have been turned blind by the farmer Galig as part of a plot to rule over it as the only sighted adult. Marshal and Cresswell work to resist him.
Wodhams is not an author who has appeared in New Writings before but seems to have done quite well for himself writing mediocre tales for Campbell. Unfortunately, this is even more disappointing. It doesn’t seem to make a real attempt to understand blind people or communities, is overlong and the concept had a better treatment from Wells decades ago.
With the continued disappearance of SF magazines from the market and others turning to reprints, any time a new publication appears, I am keen to give this new magazine a try.
It opens with a strong editorial from Doug Stapleton, saying you will not see a “wild, Bondian adventure on the outer rim of the universe” within. Instead, he says, this is more devoted to “What-if-ness”, tales of the strange and uncanny.
Perhaps that is why they chose to print the contents in a randomised order?
Anyway, let’s explore these “other dimensions”:
Of Human Heritage by Wade Hampton
Years ago, a ship full of pioneers crashed onto an unknown planet and no Earth ships have found them. As the last of the original colonists, Old Pendennis, lies dying, he worries whether or not the future generations will be able to maintain their humanity.
This is not a bad tale. It is well written, with a nice narrative style and strong ending, but it also feels like a missed opportunity to me, as it could easily have explored some much deeper themes.
Three Stars
Communication Problem by John Christopher
In 2049 instantaneous warp travel between nearby stars has become safe and routine, that is unless you are travelling after Burns Night with a Scottish duty officer. When the Wayfarer lands inside a sub-electronic storm the ship is forced to crash on to a planet, the last survivor of the crew is rescued by The Mori, but why can the two species not communicate?
This feels like a story intended for Analog that was rejected. We have lots of dull explanations of engineering, aliens being baffled by humans, even mentions of ESP. I do get the sense from some of Christopher’s writing he isn’t all too keen on the other nations of The United Kingdom, and this tale is obviously no exception. Maybe the anti-Scottishness was too much for a Campbell?
One Star (and a big apology to my friends north of the border)
This gives us one side of a conversation, as Caxton tries to convince his record label to include Gumshoe Stumble as their next single.
Unfortunately, this is no Traveller in Black. Instead it is a series of run on sentences with barely any SFnal content (at least that I could understand). I know I am in no position to critique another’s grammar but I found it near unreadable. But it is also true that I don’t get jazz.
One Star
Talk to Me, Sweetheart by Ben Bova
Finishing the trilogy of big names, we get Bova giving us another space-flavoured tale. Here an astronaut in orbit is losing control and only the woman’s voice on the other end of the communicator can help him.
Christopher Raamsgaard has been hit hard by the death of his business partner and has been working incredibly hard. Is this why he has started doing everything backwards? Or is something stranger going on?
Mr. McKimmey seems to be returning to SF, with two sales to Pohl’s magazines recently. However, just like those, this is not a good piece. Hoary, dull, silly, it would have been a space filler a decade ago.
One Star
The Deadly Image by McHugh Ferris
Emile Varner creates a robotic recreation of Lincoln and puts on a hugely successful show where people can experience his last night at Ford’s Theatre. But is history doomed to repeat itself?
Pointless piece of filler barely moving on from the current Mr. Lincoln Speaks attraction.
One Star
Revenge at the TV Corral! by J. de Jarnette Wilkes
Ken Dexter was the star of the major TV western, Western Marshal. Now he has been killed off and replaced by Bill Todd. When his wife also left him for Todd that was the last straw and he goes to murder them.
This is an odd story, that seems to be attempting some sort of metafiction, but never really works for me.
Two stars for effort.
The 13th Chair by Michael Quentin Lanz
Wes Pepper’s syndicated column is extremely popular but, with a huge libel suit against him and twelve deaths resulting from his distortion, his publisher want rid of him. But Mr. Pepper is not so easily got rid of.
A nasty story without much depth and the feel of Weird Tales.
Two Stars
Upon Reflection by Gilmore Barrington
Wilbur Trimble hates his wife and wants to kill her. Perhaps the Christian carnival that has come to town will provide an opportunity.
A bad horror story about a terrible man.
One star
Mommy, Mommy, You're a Robot by Dexter Carnes
Stevie Bellamy is an ordinary kid during the day, but at night he dreams of travelling from Omicron and that his mother is actually a robot. Do I even need to say where this is going? Unoriginal, poorly put together and speckled with random racist language.
One Star
Greetings, Friend! by Dorothy Stapleton and Douglas Stapleton
The Ecknode crashes on an unknown planet without any hope of escape. Suddenly he sees another craft come across the sky, is it his chance of escape?
It is ironic, given his introduction, that the editor gives us the most traditional science fiction story. Whilst not a “Bondian adventure” it is a dull old-fashioned first contact story that wouldn’t be out of place in '40s Astounding.
Burr Macon is Chief of Crime Documents, here helping deal with a prisoner who has confessed to murder. He gets to experience a new form of punishment and rehabilitation instead of the death penalty, reliving his victim’s experience.
If the last story felt like '40s Astounding, this was pure '50s Galaxy. Unfortunately, Anvil is not William Tenn or Robert Sheckley, and the whole thing feels rote. At least it is competent, which is more than I can say for most of this magazine.
Two Stars
The DNE?
Odd ending image used throughout Beyond Infinity
Whilst there were some good stories at the start of New Writings and a reasonable one at the start of Beyond Infinity, there was a decline throughout. Hopefully this devaluation can stop and not continue into subsequent issues.
You might have realised that it’s nearly Christmas – again!
It has turned colder here but I’m pleased to say nothing like THAT Winter of four years ago, which has gone into the record books, I understand. Nevertheless, I do like the season, as it means I can sit at home, warm and cosy with (hopefully) a pile of good stuff to read.
Carnaby Street, London: where's the snow?
One little shock to finish this year, however. The arrival of the latest New Worlds brings with it the usual excitement in anticipation of what I am about to read – it is pretty much a mystery at the moment, with each issue’s content rarely being predictable.
And out of all of the un-predictability, one point I wasn’t really expecting was the announcement that this issue is for TWO months – December AND January.
There were no signs of this happening in last month’s issue (other than a price increase), although I did say that there were rumours – grumblings of the publisher being unhappy, sales figures being a lot lower than expected, and editor Mike Moorcock having to go cap-in-hand to beg for more money.
Well, I might have exaggerated that last part a little. But here’s what I know. As I understand it, the ‘new’ New Worlds since it reappeared in July has been financed with an agreement between Mike Moorcock, a business partner named David Warburton and the British Arts Council, brokered by Brian Aldiss.
Facts are unclear, but evidently the take-up of subscriptions has been less – a lot less – than hoped, and so the anticipated money has not appeared. Not only that, but with such news Mike’s business partner has decided not to continue with the venture and has left Mike pretty much to it.
The money from the Arts Council has helped, admittedly, but doesn’t go far enough. The Arts Grant covers most, but not all, of the printing costs. It now seems that Mike has been paying author’s fees out of his own pocket, hoping things will improve, which haven’t. The result? Well, the price of the magazine has already gone up.
I guess that in the future these difficulties mean fewer magazines published each year, or magazines with less content and fewer pages, perhaps? It seems that Mike’s solution, at least for now until he can find more funds, is to keep up the quality but reduce the quantity.
Cover by Eduardo Paolozzi, designed by Charles Platt and Christopher Finch
Article: Free Agents and Divine Fools by Christopher Finch
A relatively short first article this month. In it Christopher looks at the year in art nearly gone and tries to point out trends and patterns. Finch’s summary is that the year’s been fairly uneventful on the surface. For Art to thrive, artistic freedom is important and is needed for art to survive, but deliberately avant garde activity seems obsolete and there is a risk of Culture becoming a sub-culture. Old class structures may be being broken down in society, but in Art in its place is a type of snobbery based on specialism. To rail against this there are a few artists, including Eduardo Paolozzi and Richard Hamilton, both of whom have been in the magazine over the past few issues. There’s two pages of photos at the end to show some of their work.
Example of one of the pages of Eduardo Paolozzi and Richard Hamilton art.
Really, this article is a rallying call for art in the future to be outside of the systems already in place, which is pretty much the point of the new New Worlds, I think. 3 out of 5.
An American writer who may be new to us here in Britain, although he has been mentioned here at Galactic Journey lately with his recent script for Star Trek (The Doomsday Machine) and his story Carcinoma Angels in Harlan Ellison’s Dangerous Visions. He’s clearly a hot property at the moment, and I think this story will further add to his reputation.
Bug Jack Barron is meant to shock. It is full of expletives, overtly provocative, presenting a US in the 1980’s where the United States is often shown to be corrupt, prone to being un-democratic and riddled with corporate schemes.
This seems to follow a theme. From Ballard’s caricaturish depictions of John F Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe and Mickey Mouse, to John Brunner’s cut-up depiction of a near future New York in Stand on Zanzibar last month, it is clear that Bug Jack Barron continues this trend of anti-utopian unrest. Jack Barron is a media star who encourages anger across the country. On his nightly video show “Bug Jack Barron” he asks for, and gets, people sounding off on the concerns of the day. Jack is seen as someone whose purpose is to bring these injustices to light to the public, and gain publicity and viewers at the same time, of course!
When a caller accuses the Foundation for Human Immortality of racial discrimination by negatively discriminating against black people on Barron’s show, Jack attempts to contact live and on air the CEO of the Foundation, Benedict Howards, for a comment. However, Howards is unreachable and as a result, Jack gives air-time to negro Mississippi Governor Lukas Greene who launches into an attack on the Foundation. In an attempt to give an alternate view similar to Howards, Jack also speaks to Senator Teddy Hennering, the co-sponsor of Howards’ Freezer Utility Bill, but the result is to suggest that the Freezer Utility Bill should be cancelled. By the end of this first part, Barron begins to suspect that he may have inadvertently made an enemy in Howards, for which we must read on in the next issue.
Why is this shocking? I have already mentioned the expletive-ridden language throughout this story, which may be a little too gauche for some readers. In particular, a familiar expletive associated with those of African descent is bandied about an awful lot. This is inflammatory, vivid writing rather in the style of William Burroughs, the author so beloved by Moorcock and his colleagues. This frank discussion of race and politics in America is something a universe away from us here in Britain, although I suspect that the issues it raises are universal.
Most striking of all though is the suggestion that the media could have such an influence over a country. Could this really be a future? Could we see media monsters like Jack Barron dominate our future? I’m not sure, and certainly not in Britain, although Spinrad’s version is quite convincing.
If this is editor Moorcock’s last-hurrah, a response to his monetary struggles, it seems that he is determined to go down fighting, albeit in flames. 4 out of 5.
The Line-Up on the Shore by Giles Gordon
By comparison, the next story is much milder. One of those short stories that seem to be more a stream of consciousness than a story with a literary narrative. 58 people who seem to be stood staring until they move – or as described in the story “they run, run, run, run, run, run, run…” etc. Rather creepy, but I’m not entirely sure of its point – other than to be creepy, I guess. 2 out of 5.
Auto-Ancestral Fracture by Brian W. Aldiss and C. C. Shackleton
The return of the seemingly ever-present Mr. Aldiss (see his serial later in the issue, finishing this month), but unusually this one appears to be cowritten. This is not as it seems, however as C. C. Shackleton is a pseudonym for… Mr Brian Aldiss!
Anyway, this one is another story – or extract, I’m never quite sure – involving Colin Charteris. New Worlds insists on publishing these – the last story was Still Trajectories in the September issue – although for me they have had diminishing returns.
This time around, Colin is in Brussels, which you might know of from previous stories as having been heavily bombed with psychotropic drugs in the Acid Head War, surrounded by his disciples with his new god-like status.
Hearing two followers, Angeline and Marta, fight for Charteris’s attention as waves of reality flood in and out is rather torturous, making them sound like cast-offs from Anthony Burgess’s Clockwork Orange or devotees of Mr. Stanley Unwin’s famous gobbledegook. This also gives Aldiss/Shackleton a great chance to write about sex covertly, with words like ‘friggerhuddle’ and ‘bushwanking’, all of which seem to have been written with great glee. Edward Lear it isn’t, but I suspect an homage to James Joyce.
The last part of the story describes what happens when Cass, Charteris’s agent, persuades Colin to see famous film director Nicholas Boreas and have a film made about him. The finished film reads like a cross between something from Ken Russell and J. G. Ballard, full of fractured images and cars crashing. Afterwards Charteris continues his pilgrimage in Brussels, but things get out of hand. There’s a fire and much of Brussels burns. The story ends with eight sets of lyrics from imaginary songs.
Really don’t know how to summarise this one. The story is to be admired for its deliberately diverse styles of writing, but really not a lot happens. Like most of these Charteris stories, to me it feels incomplete, a portion of a bigger story, and as a result feels a little unsatisfying. It is better than the last Charteris story, admittedly, but that may not be saying much. Style over substance, which may be beyond most readers. 3 out of 5.
Article: Movies by Ed Emshwiller
A bit left-of-field, this one. I was pleasantly surprised that this month’s artist I have heard of, for like you perhaps, I know Ed for his artwork on magazines such as Galaxy and The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. However, here this article tries to distance itself from all that pulp fiction nonsense, as it says here that in England he is best known for his film work, such as his 38 minute film Relativity, “thought by many to be about the best short film ever made.”.
Philistine that I am, I’ve never heard of it – and I suspect fans of Godard may have something to say on the matter. Anyway, this is a little different, in that it is a “primarily non-verbal description, done as a film storyboard, of his interests and aims in making films.” 4 out of 5.
Linda & Daniel & Spike by Thomas M. Disch
After Thomas’s recent serial Camp Concentration, I’m quite interested to read what fiction he comes up with next. (He has been busy writing non-fiction articles and reviews as well, admittedly.)
Linda & Daniel & Spike begins by telling us that it is a story of sex. The fact that the title is written on the back of a naked lady on the magazine cover, and the banner picture (above) may also be a clue to this. However, it is more than that. Linda tells her imaginary friend Daniel that she is pregnant with his child. Daniel walks away. Linda goes to a gynaecologist, who tells her that she is not pregnant but has uterine cancer. She gives birth to the tumour and names it Spike. Over the next fifteen years she brings Spike up, until she is readmitted to hospital for the removal of more tumours.
I get the impression that this is meant to be darkly humorous, but I didn’t find it so–just sad. It is written well, but I can’t say I enjoyed the experience. But, New Worlds is attempting to shock, and this story does that. 3 out of 5.
Last month Edward Bush had been recruited as part of a group of soldiers from the Wenlock Institute in 2093 whose purpose was to mind-travel using the overmind back to the Jurassic and find, or arrest, or kill Silverstone, a scientist seen as a traitor by the dictatorial regime of General Peregrine Bolt.
This part begins by saying that they have had to omit chapters here and are presenting the last part of the story in a condensed form. As the book of this serial is advertised in the issue, it does feel a little like an attempt to make any interested reader go and buy the novel. There is a summary of what has gone on so far at the beginning, though, which may suffice.
Nevertheless, the story limps to an inconclusive finish. We now find that Bolt has been overthrown to be replaced by Admiral Gleeson. Bush finds Silverstone and meets him. Bush, Silverstone and a group of others mind-travel back to the Cryptozoic to avoid assassins. Silverstone then reveals his idea – that time is back to front and the future is actually our past. Silverstone is shot and killed by an assassin. The identity of the Dark Woman is revealed as someone from Central Authority and she explains the future, or rather the past. Silverstone’s body is taken away to be buried by people from Central Authority. The creation of the universe and the purpose of God is explained.
Bush and others return to the present of 2093 to explain Silverstone’s idea about the overmind to Wenlock, owner of the mind-travelling institute. Bush is put in a mental institution, allegedly because of anomia, a breakdown caused by excessive mind travel. Bush’s father tries to see him but is rebuffed. A girl (The Dark Woman? Ann?) watches him as he leaves.
A fair bit happens here. The scale is certainly epic, but the pace is rather uneven. Too much of the middle part of the story spent trying to explain Silverstone’s ‘big idea’, whilst other events feel like they happen too conveniently or too quickly. I also found the downbeat ending rather contrived and unsatisfying, leaving the story without a good ending. 3 out of 5.
Article: Book Reviews – A Literature of Acceptance by James Colvin
This month’s Book Reviews seem to be another example of Mike Moorcock as James Colvin. He begins by examining a connection between literature – not just sf – and times of stress, postulating that the paranoia of the age is often reflected in popular writing of the time, not just now but in the past as well.
He then turns it around by claiming that change may be happening, and that – guess what! – stories like those in New Worlds may be a sign of the future and of mainstream acceptance, not just trying to entertain but to stretch and expand the genre.
The actual book reviews are for J. G. Ballard’s new collection of stories, The Overloaded Man, a reissue of Alfred Bester’s Tiger! Tiger!, Kit Reed’s first story collection, Mister da V. and Other Stories, The Seedling Stars by James Blish, Robert Zelazny’s Lord of Light and Kurt Vonnegut’s God Bless You, Mr Rosewater.
Unusually, Ballard’s collection is not given the usual glowing recommendation his work seems to get in New Worlds as it is “a poor representation of some of his early work – some of it is clumsily written and consisting principally of raw subject material that is worked in only the simplest and most obvious ways.”
The rest are generally more favourable. Taking a chance to self-promote, Moorcock/Colvin finishes the review section with a list of books coming out in 1968, many of them having first appeared in New Worlds, of course!
Article: Mac the Naif by John Sladek
This article examines the work of Marshall McLuhan, a Canadian philosopher whose style of work seems to echo much of what is being printed in New Worlds these days, in that cut-up mosaic form that Ballard and others seem to like. Even this article is written in that style.
Sladek looks at four of McLuhan’s books – The Mechanical Bride, which introduces McLuhan’s ideas of global communication, The Gutenberg Galaxy, which suggests that it is the printed word that has influenced society and ways of thinking since the Renaissance but with a McLuhan perspective, which leads to Understanding Media and his latest, The Medium is the Message, which is a condensation of his previous work and in the words of Sladek, “hardly worth reviewing” for that reason. Nevertheless, I can see that phrase becoming a mantra for all those executive advertising types in the future.
It's an interesting article, but complex, and I found I had to reread it to understand. Even Sladek admits that he doesn’t quite understand it all; whilst grudgingly admitting that there’s enough good ideas in the books to make them a worthwhile read. 3 out of 5.
There's quite a few missing here!
Summing up New Worlds
We are again in a position where Moorcock seems to be determined to shake things up and is going all out to shock again this month. The Spinrad is a story I suspect would not be published in this form anywhere else. I am sure that its expletive-ridden prose, albeit with a purpose, may not go down well with the “Old Guard of Science Fiction”, but would have made an ideal choice for Harlan Ellison’s Dangerous Visions collection, had it been shorter and a story from Spinrad not already accepted. Like Ellison, I think Spinrad has an exciting future ahead.
It actually is quite a surprise to realise that this is the same writer who wrote the script for the Star Trek episode "Doomsday Machine" – they are very different and show that the writer has a range. Obviously, this is only the first part, but I think it shows that in the future Spinrad could be up there with Samuel R. Delany at his most impressive.
The Disch also seems determined to shock, but I don’t think that it is as good as his previous work. I am now feeling that, even with my reservations about it, the rest of his writing tends to pale in significance against Camp Concentration.
Both Aldiss stories disappointed. Although I enjoyed Auto-Ancestral Fracture more than most of the others of his Charteris stories, it still was as unsatisfying as I had feared. An Age finished weakly.
But all in all, a good issue that seems to defiantly tread the path in the new direction the magazine is taking. Whilst there were parts that left me feeling dissatisfied, it must be said that it made me think. There’s a lot of things here as in recent issues that definitely make you think beyond the confines of the magazine, which in my opinion is good, but may be the magazine’s downfall. Extra cerebral activity may alienate some of the readership the magazine hopes to acquire.
Certainly, based on what I’m reading here, there are few signs that this will be the last issue – after all, the magazine feels confident enough to start a new serial this month. Hopefully this means that things financially will be resolved soon, and the magazine will continue.
It was interesting that the magazine put this at the back:
And that’s it from me for this year. All the very best to you all, have a wonderful Christmas and I’ll get back to you in the New Year (hopefully!)
Tomorrow, history will be made: the first Saturn V, largest rocket in the history of the world, will take off. If successful, Project Apollo's launch vehicle will be "man-rated", and one hurdle between humanity and the moon will have been cleared.
Of course, we'll have full coverage of the event after it happens, but this sneak preview makes a dandy segue. For today's article is on a literary type of explorer: Galaxy magazine. Unlike Apollo, Galaxy, which started in 1950, is a tried, tested, and even somewhat tired entity. Back in 1959, Galaxymoved to a larger, but bimonthly, format. This has not been an entirely successful endeavor, and in few issues are the problems more glaring than in this one. For if an editor needs to fill up 196 pages every other month (not to mention the 164 pages of one or two sister magazines), that editor's standards must sometimes slip…
Out on the edge of space lies the mineral-poor planet of Freehold. Thinly settled by humans, and then also by the alien Arulians, it lies just outside the Empire. A growing insurgency threatens to topple the existing order, and Ridenour, an imperial troubleshooter, is sent in to monitor the situation.
by Gray Morrow
Sounds pretty nifty, but it's not. The first twenty pages of this seventy-page piece are nothing but characters explaining the story to each other. Skimming the rest of the tale, I determined that it's all more of the same. Moreover, Poul doesn't even try to disguise what he's doing. He spotlights it by having his endlessly explaining protagonist marvel at what a pedant he's being–and when other characters do the same thing, he inwardly notes how much a pedant they're being.
As Kris notes:
Rule 1 of writing: If your characters are finding what you are doing contrived, so will the reader.
The whole thing is written in that archaic style Poul reverts to when given the chance, though there's no reason to do so in this book. He also can't resist being a bit sexist, even in a story that takes place thousands of years from now. Dig this gem:
"But in the parks, roses and Jasmine were abloom; and elsewhere the taverns brawled with merriment. The male citizens were happily acquiring the money that the Imperialists brought with them; the females were still more happily helping spend it."
Because in the future, women don't work; they are parasites on the real producers–the men.
Feh. One star.
That already gets us nearly halfway through the book. Things do not immediately improve…
The South Waterford Rumple Club, by Richard Wilson
by Jack Gaughan
Aliens drop bags of counterfeit money on a small American town. Economic collapse ensues, facilitating an extraterrestrial takeover.
I was about to write that Wilson was an unknown name to me, but looking through the archives, I see he's made several appearances in science fiction magazines over the past two years. He's just eminently forgettable. This story does not change the trend. For one, he spends a couple of pages giving a history lesson as to why an influx of fake currency is such a deadly weapon–akin to anthrax and mustard gas. And then we get a tedious demonstration of such an attack, followed by a couple of pages of (not well thought out) aftermath.
This is the sort of inferior stuff that filled the lesser mags of the '50s. It doesn't belong here.
Two stars.
Thank goodness for Silverbob. From here on, out, the issue is quite good. But you have to make it to page 96! (or simply skip the dross)
King of the Golden World, by Robert Silverberg
Elena, a human, has married Haugan, chief of a tribe of aliens that lives on an island dominated by twin volcanic mounts. Theirs is a genuine love, despite their divergent evolutions, but full understanding still eludes the Earth woman. Though the mountain on which the village is sited is clearly about to erupt, Haugan seems in no hurry to evacuate his people. It is only on the eve of disaster that Elena learns the true, alien nature of Haugan's people. Will she embrace it or be repelled?
This is really quite a sensitive story, timeless and nuanced. I suspect it was influenced by Silverberg's recent nonfiction histories of the original American inhabitants (collectively referred to as "Indians").
Four stars.
For Your Information: Astronautics International, by Willy Ley
Ten years ago, it was enough to keep up with the Soviets and the Americans if you wanted to know what was up in space. These days, Earth's orbit has become a truly international province, and this month's article focuses on the efforts of the non-superpowers, of which there are many.
As a space buff, articles on satellites always score extra marks with me, so I hope our tastes are aligned. Four stars.
Black Corridor, by Fritz Leiber
A man awakens, naked, without memories, inside a featureless corridor. Ahead of him lie two doors: one is labeled "Water", the other "Air". Behind him a wall moves toward him implacably. Choose…or die.
But beyond the first pair of doors is another, and another. Is this a test? Will the test end? And what is its purpose?
Less a science fiction story and more a metaphor for life itself, this piece's worth depends solely on the execution. Thankfully, Leiber is up to the task.
Four stars.
The Red Euphoric Bands, by Philip Latham
A comet is heading straight for an Earth on the brink of atomic war. Is it our doom…or our salvation?
On the one hand, the storytelling and the science are quite excellent. On the other, the conclusion is silly. Moreover, there is a fundamental fault in this otherwise accurate piece: a comet with a two light year orbit would have a period of around six billion years–too high to serve the purposes of the story.
Thus, three stars.
Galactic Consumer Report No. 3: A Survey of the Membership, by John Brunner
The first galactic survey, conducted by Good Buy magazine, turned out to be something of a fiasco–too many beings responded, and they were just too variegated to provide anything like a profile of "an average consumer". Yet, you couldn't call the exercise less than successful…
This series tends to be silly and throw-away, but this installment I liked a lot. Why? Because it's almost like a Theodore Thomas article from his F&SF column–a couple dozen story seeds all in one piece. So many stories feature aliens that are little more than humans in costume. This one presents some real aliens. It also made me laugh a few times.
On the former Kzin world of Down, orbiting a feeble red dwarf, humans have established an agricultural colony. In addition to its colorful history, Down offers another attraction: the Grogs. These are comical-looking, human-sized creatures that have two phases in life. At first, they are four-legged creatures with a dog-like intelligence. In this form, they rove the deserts of Down, hunting and mating. Eventually, the females anchor themselves to a rock, where they stay the rest of their lives.
And yet, these creatures have enormous brains, suggesting a great intelligence. Why did they evolve them, and what can they do with them? Garvey, an entrepreneur whose line is making prosthetics for "Handicapped" species, ones without manipulative organs of their own (e.g. dolphins, the enormous Bandersnatchi of planet Jinx), smells an opportunity.
Handicap, like last year's A Relic of Empire, expands what is becoming a sweeping common universe, tying in the Kzinti of The Warriors, the Thrintun of World of Ptavvs, and the hyperdrive era of Beowulf Shaeffer. What I really like about Niven is that he isn't in a hurry to tell his story. There are asides and subplots, weaving a meandering course through entertaining vignettes, before tying everything together at the end. Niven's universe feels lived in, and all of its facets are interesting. That there's a nifty story at the heart of Handicap is a bonus…though my eyebrows were raised a bit by this exchange:
Garvey: "For as long as we expand to other stars we're going to meet more and more handless, toolless, helpless civilizations. Sometimes we won't even recognize them. What are we going to do about them?"
Jilson (a guide): "Build Dolphin's Hands for them."
Garvey: "Well, yes, but we can't just give them away. Once one species starts depending on another, they become parasites."
This feels a bit like an indictment of welfare, foreign aid…or assistance to the handicapped. I would not jump to concluding that Garvey's views necessarily represent Niven's views, but I also would not be surprised, as he is a hereditary millionaire, and the plutocracy often thinks ill of public demands on their wealth. I will simply note that I think Garvey is being short-sighted. Isn't it worth the investment of a little charity to create an entirely new potential market of both imports and exports? If you give away limbs to the crippled, schools to the poor, food to the starving, will they really just sit on their duffs? Or will they simply now be unencumbered members of society, ready to participate fully? I submit that equalization of opportunity through government assistance and charity actually serves capitalism rather than subverts it.
Well, that's a tiny quibble, and again, just because Garvey thinks this way doesn't mean the author does. If anything, I'm glad he gave me something to think about–along with a good story!
A day in the life of the postal clerk of the future. A particularly bad, seemingly endless day. The kind that tries a person's soul…or tests one's abilities.
Harrison is reliably good. He does not disappoint here. Four stars.
To the Black Beyond
Having trudged through a barren literary landscape for half the span of a magazine, it was comforting to have solid ground to trod for the latter half. But now that the Galaxy is done, I am once again adrift. Who knows what lies in store within the covers of the next magazine or paperback that will cross my desk? Like the expanses of space, it's all an unknown adventure.
Luckily, there are still enough treasures waiting to be found to make the journey worth it!
As the weather turns distinctly autumnal here, I guess that we can say Goodbye to the so-called “Summer of Love”. Here in Britain I can’t say I’ve noticed major social changes, and certainly not as much as you in California – but it has at least brought me The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper album, which has been a constant source of entertainment here since its release in June.
Whilst it is not on the British streets, such images of casual living, sex, drugs and rock and roll are still in my British magazine, of course. It feels like there’s at least one story every month that relates to this. Recently it was Thomas Disch’s Camp Concentration, and now… well, I’ll get to that later.
Not only that, but this issue seems to have a general theme of conflict about it.
An example of the logic shown in this article. Not sure I understood this!
In recent months these first articles in the magazine have been pretty intense, dealing with aspects of philosophy, mathematics and psychology that have made me have to read them more than once to get any understanding.
This month’s is even more esoteric, showing a connection between war and peace in War Game Theory through mathematics that made my head spin. No named writer in the title, although the cover states that it is by John Sladek. Its relevance as a theme may be deliberate, on reading the Book Reviews later this month. 3 out of 5.
Continuing from last month’s first part, Edward Bush and his new girlfriend Ann take a mind-trip to the Jurassic using the mind-altering drug CSD. They meet stegosauri and go to a town set up by other travellers from the future. Bush wanders away from the town bar and is attacked. Separated from Ann, he returns to the world of 2093, where we discover that this world whence they came is a rather unpleasant place run by a dictator named General Peregrine Bolt, which is why many people transport themselves to the past.
Bush meets his family to renew his strained relationship with his father and finds that his mother has died whilst he was travelling. He is then arrested by the Wenlock Institute, the place where mind-travel was invented, for overstaying his mind-travel journey, but really it seems that this is just an excuse for Bush to be interrogated by Franklyn, the Deputy of the Institute.
Towards the end we seem to stray into satire as Bush is press-ganged into Bolt’s new Mind-Travel Police Squad. After training, he is sent back into the past as part of Ten Squad to capture and kill the scientist-traitor Silverstone, who has wandered off. It very much reminded me of Harry Harrison’s Bill, the Galactic Hero in its amusement at the idiocy of training soldiers for war.
Despite this veer into humour, this serial still feels like something from a middle-class writer trying to broaden his range in an attempt to appear gritty and progressive. Bush refers to Ann as “a slag” and “a cow” – charming! For a middle-of-the-story-part, this one was a little uneven, but acceptable, though worse as it went along. 3 out of 5.
Article: The Terror-Pleasure Paradox by Christopher Finch
Example of Self's imagery.
This month’s ‘artycle’ examines the “selective naturalism” of Colin Self. The “Terror-Pleasure Paradox” is namely that by using “nuclear warfare paraphernalia” in a manner which verges on advertising it therein creates a paradox – something that should frighten, yet at the same time may provide pleasure.
In its combination of provocative war imagery, modern machinery and even eroticism it all seems very Ballard-ian to me and therefore will be appreciated by many New Worlds readers. Me, I’m not so sure. 3 out of 5.
Uncredited image, but it looks like a Douthwaite, who is credited in the magazine.
From John Brunner there’s an excerpt from his latest book (due next year.) This one, I must admit, is a revelation, but actually not as entirely new as it claims to be.
The title comes from the idea that if you took all of the world’s population and stood them together, they would occupy a space merely that of the island of Zanzibar. The introduction refers to the work of John Dos Passos, which seems to have this style of lots of different styles of writing, in a cut-up manner that Ballard would be proud of. It’s certainly something we’ve seen much of in New Worlds recently.
We don’t get a narrative here as such, more of a taste of a big, complex future world. Donald Hogan is a corporate executive for General Technics in New York. He has the ability to make the right guesses, which is part of his job as a synthesist. As seen through Donald, New York is a busy city, under a dome and overpopulated with people, and noisy. Advertising is everywhere, a culture of consumerism dominant. Its multicultural streets at night are a dazzling blend of energy, suppressed violence and pseudo cab drivers.
We also meet Poppy Shelton, a young pregnant girl who goes to visit the doctors. In contrast to Hogan’s, hers is a world of squalor made bearable by casual psychedelic drugs.
To show all of this, we have disparate forms of prose presented in that cut-up manner we’ve seen in a lot of stories here. There is some sort of street-speak language, academic descriptions of a future multi-ethnic society, quotes from people in the street, advertising slogans and signage to show this, often in short sentences. It is a world of government-decreed abortions, riots and casual drug usage.
Another uncredited image that looks like a Douthwaite.
Although this is only a taster, it is interesting – and perhaps most important of all, makes me want to read more, as the point of Donald and Poppy are unclear based on this. It seems to combine the ideas of Harry Harrison’s Make Room! Make Room! with the style of Thomas Disch’s Camp Concentration to create a multifaceted, kaleidoscopic view of this near-future world. Who knows where this near-future dystopia is going?
It’s just a shame that it is an extract, as the book sounds BIG – the introduction points out that they would have liked to have run it as a serial, but a fifteen-part serial was not viable. If the rest of the book is like this, Stand on Zanzibar may be the most ambitious, yet simultaneously accessible work of the British New Wave of SF to date, although I am aware that the novel may be just style over substance. Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks?
This might be one of the most intriguing stories I’ve read recently, so much so that I can see it in the Awards nominations next year – providing that the rest matches this extract, of course! 4 out of 5.
After Galactic War by Michael Butterworth Sharing the horror in full – another poetic gem – well, they seem to be liked by some!
Oh, oh – more poetry alert! To quote: “i looked out of the forehead of a doubledecker bus and my legs were wheels”… indeed. I suspect the author’s been visiting that new New York of Brunner’s… 2 out of 5.
Wine on an Empty Stomach by George Collyn
Illustration by Cawthorn
It’s been a while since we’ve seen George as an author in these pages – he has been better known for reviewing books recently, of which there are some later!
His story is a decent effort at writing in the New Wave form about a post-apocalyptic future as written from different people’s perspectives: a group of literary readers, a soldier, an obsessive book hoarder, an amateur philosopher and a prostitute whose lives come together at the end to create a new future. I quite liked this one, divided into chapters that each told of another person, each adding another element of the story to make a coherent narrative at the end. Of course, this being British anti-utopia, it all ends badly. 4 out of 5.
Article: Off-Beat Generation by Dr. John W. Gardner
The future of energy?
No Dr. Christopher Evans this month, so not a medical-based article. Instead, Dr. John W. Gardner looks at how to secure future energy production in a world where the population is growing. Talk of fuel cells (see photo) and thermonuclear reactors ensue. Quite heavy on the science this one. Like the leading article this month, it’s interesting, but I wouldn’t say that I understood it all. 3 out of 5.
Book Reviews
George Collyn reappears in his now more regular role here, as book reviewer. This month The Playboy Book of Science Fiction and Fantasy makes “good reading” and August Derluth’s “less robust” story collection, Over the Edge much less so. The Tenth Galaxy Reader, edited by Frederik Pohl, is “thoroughly professional” but “fairly conventional”, which seems to echo comments on the magazine around here at Galactic Journey. The Last Castle is “typical Vance”, with World of the Sleeper by Tony Russell Wayman being a swashbuckling better buy.
As has been a pattern over the last few Book Reviews, the last reviews this month are in more detail and determinedly not genre-based. Professor Gordon A. Craig writes of War, Politics and Diplomacy, no doubt as an adjunct to the leading article at the beginning of the magazine. Secondly, Dr. Donald West looks at the issue of juvenile delinquency in his book The Young Offender.
Summing up New Worlds
And that’s it for this month. This issue feels like it has less quantity than normal, although the quality of what is there is of the usual good standard. The star for me this month is the Brunner extract, although I am wary of being overenthusiastic. Nevertheless, I am hoping it holds up when it becomes a “proper” novel. It has the potential to be something special.
I am enjoying the Aldiss more than some of his more recent stories, I must admit, although the last part of the story seemed to fizzle out a bit. The Collyn was better than I thought it was going to be, which was a pleasant surprise.
So, all in all, not a bad issue – again.
After writing this article, I did hear of an interesting rumour about New Worlds. Gossip has it that the new direction of the magazine may not be leading to increased sales. There are rumblings in the ether that Mike Moorcock is having to go with metaphorical cap-in-hand to the publishers to gain further finance. Does this put the magazine at risk again? Possibly. More in the future as I get it.
An advertisement from this month's magazine that shows how different book sales and New Worlds magazine is, perhaps? How many of these authors are mentioned in detail in the magazine these days?
Next week will see the launch of third satellite in the British Ariel programme. Assuming this is successful, it will be significant for a couple of reasons.
UK3 Satellite, hoping to become Ariel 3 if it gets in orbit
Firstly, whilst it is being launched in partnership with NASA in California, it will be the first satellite to be entirely made and tested in Britain, whereas the first two were made in the US. In cooperation between the Royal Airforce, British Aircraft Corporation and General Electric Company, its success would help show that Britain can, if not exactly compete in the space race, at least get a nice chance at a bronze medal.
Secondly, it is carrying five different experiments for UK research facilities, from measuring electron density to atmospheric noise, all of which are going to be important for a more detailed understanding of our world.
One of the most interesting experiments to me is that Jodrell Bank is using it to study medium frequency waves that occur in space. As well as helping understand radio transmissions better this may also help better detect signals coming from extra-terrestrial intelligences. Which is what The Terrornauts is concerned with.
Mr. Brunner…We’re Needed!
Back in the ancient days of 1960 our esteemed editor gave a rather damning review of the original novel. However, largely this was due to the prose and the story being dragged out and it was noted that “the premise is excellent”. As such, if a good team was assembled it might well make a good motion picture.
Step forward the first member of this team, John Brunner. One of Britain’s brightest SF authors. Whilst, to the best of my knowledge, he has not written a film script before, he is adept at producing both readable space operas and extremely literary works. He reportedly wanted to remove all the dated pulp era material to concentrate on core science fiction ideas and character work.
Next up, a steady experienced hand of a director is needed, enter Montgomery Tully. Director of over 60 films across 4 decades, including last year’s excellent horror thriller Who Killed The Cat? Although not experienced in SF, many of the best productions of recent years have come from experienced directors outside the field. I will take a Godard or Kubrick experiments over another Irwin Allen or Ed Wood picture.
This production is from Amicus studios, the main rival to Hammer studios, with the enjoyable horror anthology Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors, the middlingDalek films and…. whatever The Deadly Bees was. Whilst they do not have the budget of their competitor, they have had ambition to try to do interesting films. Could this be their next success?
Added to this an array of talented actors listed on the cast sheet and things seem setup for a great cinematic experience.
What Could Possibly Go Wrong?
As it turns out, a lot!
Let us start with the plot itself. It begins with people working in a field of current interest to many SF fans, attempting to use high powered radio telescopes in order to attempt to find intelligence life outside of our solar system. Dr. Burke’s team have been working on the project for 4 years but failed to produce any results, to the frustration of Dr. Shore, who is annoyed they are using the equipment on the project. Having just 3 months left to discover a sign of life, they receive a repeating signal from an asteroid.
What is particularly surprising is it is the same signal Dr. Burke heard as a child. At an excavation with an archaeologist uncle, a mysterious black cube was uncovered. He was given it as present and inside he found strange black crystals that hummed. Falling asleep holding one, he had a dream of an alien world. On that world he heard the same sound. As you can probably tell, this is going to require you to accept a lot of coincidences.
After sending a signal back, a spaceship comes and takes the lab away (although not the control room or telescope it was sent from), along with Dr. Burke, his assistants Lund and Keller, and two comedy characters, the accountant Yellowlees and the tea lady Mrs. Jones.
We do have to talk about the odd comic turns. There's no problem with having some light comedy to emphasise the drama and the use of ordinary characters out of their depth is a common charming feature of Nigel Kneale’s SF plays or Hammer Horror films. The issue here is that it is played so broadly in contrast to the po-faced stance of the rest of the cast it sticks out. Charles Hawtrey is a regular member of the Carry-On cast and Patricia Hayes is probably best known for her regular appearances on the Benny Hill Show. I could not help but wonder at times if they had just walked off of those sets temporarily. Just toning down their performances and lightening the others would have done wonders.
A terrifying ultrasonic hallucination as part of the tests.
Our five space farers find themselves in a structure on the asteroid and spend a lot of time wandering about and solving a series of logic puzzles to prove intelligence (likely inspired by a similar sequence in The Dalek Invasion of Earth), they are given a cube like Dr. Burke received as a child. It turns out to be a store of information on their mission. An ancient race explored the stars and encountered a race only known as “The Enemy” that want to eliminate other intelligent life by using rays that reduce intelligence. The signal from the base indicates The Enemy’s signals are approaching Earth and it is up to these five to use the base to defend humanity.
There is also a brief side trip where Lund trips on to a ‘Matter Transmitter’ and gets sent down to a planet full of green people in togas and shower caps who want to sacrifice her, but this seems largely to be a way to have a traditional pulp action sequence more than anything else. In fact, for such a short film, there is enormous amount of time being wasted. Most egregious is a sequence where they are trying to find a cube to help them and spend ages sampling them all, only to have the real cube presented to them by the unconvincing robot of the base.
Wobbly robots and very unconvincing moons
Although looks are not everything it has to be said this film looks cheap. Yes, the budget was smaller than Daleks – Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. or Thunderbirds Are Go, but it is at a comparable level to Island of Terror and The Projected Man, neither of which look as bad as this (despite their many other faults). Even BBC episodes of Doctor Who or Out of the Unknown, which work on less than 10% of the budget for similar runtimes, rarely resemble this level of shoddiness.
The Torch of Doom vs. the Flappy Base
At the end it looked like we could have a tense and exciting space battle, but instead we have the attacking ship opening to reveal a red torch light and the fortress flailing about like a drunken Octopus.
Finally, the attacking fleet is destroyed but not before the final ship comes to crash into the base. The team manage to use the Matter Transmitter to escape and land in the same archaeological dig the black cube was found by Burke’s uncle. However, not having passports, they are arrested by a local police officer. Given how much The Terrornauts tends towards terrible cliché, it, of course, ends on a bad joke from Mrs. Jones:
I never did much like foreign parts
Hilarious…
Naut The Best Film
Why not have a cup of tea and read a magazine instead?
As you can probably tell, this is a poor picture. Logic is consistently tenuous. There is barely enough plot to fill a Ferman vignette, instead being reduced to run-arounds. If I didn’t know its origins, I would have assumed this was a fan’s attempt at a Doctor Who script that was rejected by the production team.
But I think its worst sin is it is just incredibly dull. I don’t think this is due to lack of incident, but it is not about anything. There are no themes or interesting ideas I can tease out, it is just some people from Earth put into space to fight invaders, which they do via following recorded instructions.
Even this might have been salvaged if we had good character work but they all as thin as cigarette cards. Burke is the hero who is always right and can apparently do anything. Lund is his assistant who does whatever he says or randomly gets into trouble so she can be rescued. Keller is there for Burke to talk to. Yellowlees is the fussy and cowardly comic relief. And Jones is the ordinary person who does not quite understand what is going on, also for humour value.
They do not have any growth or go on a real quest. There is no significant difference I can see between the people when they leave Earth and arrive back.
In the end I cannot give this production more than one star.
Future Terrors
Kubrick and Clarke, on the set of what we all hope is not The Terrornauts Raid Again
Coming out very soon (we are continually promised) is 2001, the collaboration between another British SF author and experienced British director. Will this end up meeting the same fate? We shall see…
January 6! A portentous anniversary! On this day in 1838, Samuel Morse publicly demonstrated the telegraph, sending a message two miles; and in 1912, German geophysicist Alfred Wegener announced his theory of the continental drift, to much skepticism until very recently.
by Arnold Kahn
The February 1967 Amazing is here too, in a burst of bright yellow surrounding a glum-looking guy who seems to have a head problem. The table of contents captions Arnold Kahn’s cover as Slaves of the Crystal Brain; research reveals it first appeared as the cover of the May 1950 Amazing, where the head was bordered in black rather than yellow. It is hard to imagine why anyone thought the change to be an improvement. However, the subject’s disgruntled expression so acutely characterizes the issue that I fear my comments may be superfluous.
The prolific and versatile John Brunner has provided us with such thoughtful works as The Whole Man and such well-turned entertainments as Echo in the Skull. Born Under Mars, unfortunately, is neither, though it might be viewed as a caricature of both, with an overstuffed action plot against a background of Big Thinks that seem to have been drawn with a crayon.
by Gray Morrow
In the future, Earth has established interstellar colonies, their nations and residents known as Centaurs and Bears respectively. Mars, earlier colonized, has become unfashionable and neglected in this new and larger configuration, and its inhabitants are a bit resentful about it. These include Ray Mallin, a space engineer who has just returned to Mars on a Centaur ship, only to find himself kidnapped and tortured with a nerve whip to obtain information he does not have about the ship he arrived on.
There ensues much to-ing and fro-ing as Mallin tries to find out what is going on, including reliance on outrageous coincidence: Mallin, at the Old Temple containing ancient Martian artifacts, pushes on a random spot on the wall, which opens to reveal the room where he was nerve-whipped, along with one of the perpetrators. He returns the favor of torture and interrogation but his former tormentor knows nothing.
Eventually Mallin corners his old mentor Thoder and the Big Thinks begin to emerge. Humanity is stagnating, with no major scientific breakthroughs for a couple of centuries, and needs to get a lot smarter. How? They don’t really know, but “a pair of strongly opposed societies was devised: the Bears, happy-go-lucky, casual, living life as it came, and the Centaurs, thinking hard about everything and especially about their descendants.” In effect they are trying eugenics by bank shot: creating societies to order to see if either one of them breeds—literally—the intellectual superpeople who are needed (i.e., those who have “a talent—extra psychological muscle if you like”).
And who contrived all this, and how did they manage to keep it secret, and what rational basis is there to believe that anyone can create societies to order and have them stick to the program for the generations necessary for this project? How is manipulating social arrangements and behavior going to jump-start human heredity? Is Lamarck consulting on this project? There’s no pretense of an explanation; these large concepts are merely brandished like slogans on placards.
But—the author asserts—it’s worked! Six generations early, in fact, unto the Centaurs is born an infant who will have “an IQ at the limits of the measurable, empathy topping 2000, Weigand scale, and virtually every heritable talent from music to mathematics, all transmissible to his descendants!” And he’s here! He’s, as Hitchock would put it, the macguffin everyone has been chasing after, torturing Mallin en passant because this miracle child, kidnapped, was brought to Mars on the ship Mallin rode on.
So what’s the plan? Educate him on Mars. “Then, when he’s grown, to use the random mixing of genetic lines available in Bear society to spread a kind of ferment through half the human race.” In other words, this kid is intended to grow up to be a playboy in interstellar Bohemia, and that’s how humanity will be transformed.
But wait—now somebody has snatched the kid away from the people who snatched the kid! More hurly-burly ensues, along with more elevated yakety-yak, and in the last 20 pages a Girl emerges for the hero to get. And there’s a redeeming note: she wants to know what the hell all these people are doing treating an infant like nothing but an object to be manipulated, which doesn’t seem to have occurred to anyone previously.
Born Under Mars is another of many examples of pseudo-profundity in SF: the semblance of large ideas waved around without the author’s doing the work of thinking them through and making them plausible, or abandoning them when their implausibility becomes obvious. Brunner is certainly not the only offender of this sort, but he seems sufficiently capable that I expected better of him.
Bah, humbug. Oh, wait, that was last month. Two stars, mainly for effort.
“Special,” says the cover, about Charles R. Tanner’s Tumithak of the Corridors—a “complete novel” at 56 pages per the table of contents. The interior blurb calls it “as good as early Wells, as fresh as the latest Zelazny.” And indeed this story, from the January 1932 Amazing, does have a certain reputation among older fans.
by Leo Morey
It seems that humans made it to Venus, whose inhabitants, called shelks for no reason I can discern, had no idea there was anything outside their eternal clouds. But once they found out, they proceeded straightway to build their own space fleet (“All over the planet, the great machine-shops hummed and clattered”) to invade Earth. Earth responded by creating great underground fastnesses, full of corridors of sorts, and after losing the war, humans fled into their deepest recesses and regressed to ignorance and barbarism. But—of course—one brave young man will not accept humanity’s fate. He has found an old book that recounts the history of the shelks’ invasion, and he is going to find his way the surface to kill a shelk!
This mass of cliches actually turns into a pretty good old-fashioned story. Tanner’s style is clear and uncluttered. Tumithak is presented as heroic but not superhuman. His odyssey through the corridors, including the territories of other human tribes (one of them not too friendly), manages not to become any more ridiculous than the starting premises, except for a portion towards the end in the territory of the Esthetts (sic!) which is all right because it’s purposefully satirical. Altogether, the story is a fairly charming relic. Three stars, and by the standards of its times it would merit more.
Methuselah, Ltd., by Wallace West and Richard Barr
Methuselah, Ltd. (from Fantastic, November-December 1953), is as you might guess about immortality, or its absence. In the future, disease, disability, and aging have been conquered by the Life Ray, but people still die around age 90. Dr. Weinkopf, age 88, would like to do something about this, and he thinks it has something to do with the pineal gland, and with “brain sand”—calcareous salts with a “concentric laminated structure” found in the brain after death, it says here. Surgery has been made illegal, but there is an underground Society for the Preservation of Surgical Techniques that performs operations in speakeasy fashion before an audience of sadists. Dr. Weinkopf hopes to piggyback on a brain tumor operation to remove the pineal and dig out the brain sand. But the patient, hearing talk of this plan, chickens out and leaves. By the rules of the Society, the jilted surgeon must be subjected to surgery himself, so the doctor chooses to have his nurse do the surgery on him, with predictable bad end looming as the story ends. This is apparently intended as a sort of farcical black comedy, but it’s not especially funny and is just as big a mess as my description suggests. The authors should improve their farce technique by studying the works of Ron Goulart—not the kind of sentence I ever expected to write. One star.
The Man with Common Sense, by Edwin James
by Leo Morey
The other reprinted short story, from the July 1950 Amazing, is The Man with Common Sense, by Edwin James, an early pseudonym of James E. Gunn. It’s another dreary farce, though better-wrought than Methuselah, Ltd. Malachi Jones is a “dapper, wizened little man” equipped with cane and derby hat who is an interstellar insurance agent for Lairds of Luna. Lairds has issued a policy guaranteeing peace on Mizar II, and Jones is there to make sure Lairds doesn’t have to pay off. He tames the planet’s rebels and makes peace in the accidental company of one Rand Ridgeway, who is distinguished mainly by his stupidity (en route, he takes his shoes off and forgets to put them back on). Two stars, barely. Here’s another case for Ron Goulart.
Two Days Running and Then Skip a Day, by Ron Goulart
by Gray Morrow
Speaking of Ron Goulart, here is the man himself, with the issue’s only new short story, Two Days Running and Then Skip a Day. Goulart has been on a tear about the medical profession for a while; see his Calling Dr. Clockwork in the March 1965 Amazing, about a man who winds up in the hospital and then can’t get out, and Terminal, in the May 1965 Fantastic, about a nursing home system designed mainly to get rid of the troublesome elderly and the even more troublesome investigators. Here, Goulart tees off, or I should say flails in all directions, against celebrity doctors who can’t be bothered with their patients, robot assistants of dubious competence, modern apartments and appliances that are badly built, sleazy landlords, and I probably missed something. It’s insubstantial but amusing, which seens to sum this writer up, and to compare favorably with Gunn and West/Barr, whose entries are merely insubstantial. Three stars, barely.
Summing Up
As I said at the beginning, the expression on the cover acutely captures the contents of the issue, and requires no elaboration.
by Arnold Kahn (detail)
[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…]
The December Amazing, all business, with the editorial and letter column seemingly dropped permanently , makes a nice-looking package, with a cover by Frank R. Paul shamelessly dominated by near-fire engine red. It’s taken from the back cover of the January 1942 Amazing, where it was titled “Glass City of Europa.” The caption there says "Transparent and opaque plastics make this a wonder city of ersatz science. Transportation is by means of giant, domesticated insects."
by Frank R. Paul
Interestingly, this cover is not only cropped from the original, as is usual, but altered: someone has airbrushed Jupiter from the upper left-hand corner! There’s nothing in its place but more red. Now that’s editing! Of a sort.
The featured fiction on the cover is the beginning of John Brunner’s two-part serial Born Under Mars. As usual I will withhold comment (and reading) until both parts are available. A quick inspection suggests that this one represents Brunner the capable post-pulp storyteller and not the author in his highly variable philosophical mode, the poles represented by his worthy The Whole Man and his unfortunate mess The Bridge to Azrael.
by Gray Morrow
Vanguard of the Lost, by John D. Macdonald
John D. Macdonald is best known for crime fiction—a lot of it. Since 1950 he has published 40-odd crime novels, most if not all original paperbacks. His current project is a series of novels about a private eye named Travis McGee—eight of them in three years. In all this criminous fecundity it’s easily forgotten that Macdonald was once an up-and-coming SF writer, and pretty prolific at that too. From 1948 to 1952 he published almost 50 stories in the SF magazines, in addition to a number in the borderline-SF pulp Doc Savage, all the while maniacially generating crime stories as well. He used multiple pseudonyms and sometimes had multiple stories in the same magazine issue. In his spare time he cranked out two decently-received SF novels, Wine of the Dreamers and Ballroom of the Skies. A lot of his work was excellent, too; highlights include A Child Is Crying, Flaw, Game for Blondes, and my own favorite, the compact and nasty Spectator Sport, all of them promptly anthologized.
by Julian S. Krupa
Then it all stopped. He had one last story in 1953 in Fantasy and Science Fiction, and since then it’s been all crime, almost all the time. He did appear in the Merril annual “best SF” volume a couple of years ago with a weak fantasy from Cosmopolitan, The Legend of Joe Lee, and in 1962 published The Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, a crime novel (rather, a farce with some crime and attempted crime in it) with an SF premise: the time-slowing gimmick of Wells’s The New Accelerator and its numerous successors, including Macdonald’s own Half-Past Eternity, a novella for the pulp Super Science Stories in 1950.
Crime, it appears, paid—at least better than SF. And in fact the SF market of the 1950s could never have accommodated the number of novels he produced. His post-1952 short fiction, meanwhile, was split between the crime fiction magazines and the more lucrative likes of Cosmopolitan, Collier’s, and the Saturday Evening Post.
After that buildup, it’s unfortunate that Macdonald’s Vanguard of the Lost, from the May 1950 Fantastic Adventures, doesn’t amount to more. Aliens have landed! Well, not landed yet, but their fleet of ships is traversing the globe. Larry Graim, statistician by day and SF writer by night, goes up to his building’s roof to check them out, and meets there Alice, a feisty young woman who proves to be the one who denounces Graim’s work relentlessly in the SF magazine letter columns (“the poor man’s Kuttner and the cretin’s van Vogt”).
Graim is disoriented by the fact that these aliens’ rather beat-up-looking, uncommunicative spaceships first seem to be mapping the earth, and then land and release large machines that start building things with no visible sentient direction. It’s completely different from the plots he’s familiar with from the SF magazines, so he and Alice go try to figure out what’s behind the seemingly mindless display. En route there is much mild satire of Everyman reacting to the unprecedented. The denouement is uninspiring and ends on a note of slapstick, to be followed by wedding bells to complete the meet-cute plot. It’s readable and vaguely amusing. Three stars.
The second novelet in the issue is David H. Keller’s first, and probably most famous, story, The Revolt of the Pedestrians (Amazing, Feb. 1928). In the future, everybody is on wheels, all the time. The mania for speed has overtaken everything else; the roadways are progressively more dominated by automobiles; pedestrians first become fair game and then are banned altogether, and hounded out of existence—or so it is thought. By the time of the story, the legs of the ordinary citizen have atrophied, and everyone gets around the house and the office in miniature personal cars. But . . . hidden in the wilderness, a remnant population of pedestrians is thriving, and scheming, and perfecting their science, and soon they shall declare themselves and their demands.
by Frank R. Paul
This of course is all quite ridiculous. But aside from that minor problem, this story is actually pretty good. It’s well paced in a rambling sort of way, very smoothly written, with engaging central characters, with Keller’s soon-to-be-characteristic expositional chunks going down smoothly, and without the cranky and rancorous ideological overtones of some of his later stories. And bear in mind that the absurd extrapolations here are a cruder version of the satirical method that later served Galaxy so well (compare Pohl’s The Midas Plague). Three stars—four if one compares it only to other works of its time.
I pinned Fletcher Pratt long ago as one of the more tedious SF writers going (actually, gone: 1897-1956). I remember as a child trying to force my way through his Double Jeopardy, thinking that if Doubleday published it and it was reprinted as a Galaxy Novel, there must be something to it. Then I encountered Invaders from Rigel, in which elephantine extraterrestrials turn humans into metal by manipulating radiation, and realized the futility of persevering with it, or with him. (In fairness, Pratt’s outright fantasy, both his collaborations with L. Sprague de Camp and his unaccompanied work, was much superior.)
The Pratt-fall du jour is Dr. Grimshaw’s Sanitarium, from the May 1934 Amazing. Our hero John Doherty is sent to the sanitarium by his employer for a rest after his courageous thwarting of a train robbery, which left him with some psychological difficulty. It soon becomes apparent that Dr. Grimshaw is a sinister character and there’s something funny going on. He’s turning people into midgets! Soon enough the Doctor gets wise to Doherty and his friends and really gives them the midget treatment, so they end up having to survive in the grass, which is now apparently taller than they are, and subsist on insects that they manage to kill with makeshift weapons (reportedly, June bugs are reasonably tasty but houseflies are disgusting). But now the end is near! Grimshaw’s got a cat, and all is lost. Two stars, barely.
by Leo Morey
Interestingly (sort of), when editors Leo Margulies and Oscar J. Friend solicited self-nominations for an anthology to be titled My Best Science Fiction Story, published in 1949, Pratt submitted this one, though he did acknowledge rewriting it for a more modern audience. I did not investigate the revision.
The Flame from Nowhere, by Eando Binder
by Julian S. Krupa
Eando Binder’s The Flame from Nowhere (Amazing, April 1939) is a routine period adventure story: forest fire proves impossible to stop, turns out it’s really an atomic fire, must have atomic fire-fighting methods, our hero quickly whips them up in a flurry of mumbo-jumbo, making the penultimate sacrifice, two stars. Next!
Philip K. Dick’s The Commuter, from the August/September 1953 Amazing, during the magazine’s brief flirtation with high pay rates and a stab at higher quality, is one of many facilely clever stories from his early period of prolific glibness. It starts with a small man asking a railroad clerk for a ticket book to Macon Heights, being told there is no Macon Heights, and disappearing. It happens again. A railroad official takes the train and finds it does stop at Macon Heights, which research shows was a proposed development that was rejected by the authorities years ago. So what’s happening to reality? The story, which foreshadows more substantial work by Dick on the same theme, is a trifle with a barb; it effectively conveys the official’s fear for his familiar world and life. Three stars.
He Took It with Him, by Clark Collins
The issue concludes with He Took It With Him, by Clark Collins, actually a pseudonym of Mack Reynolds, who mostly used it for articles in men’s magazines, such as Beat’s Guide to Paris, in French Frills for October-December of this year (Beat? In 1966? What a square.) and Guide to Fallen Women in Sir Knight in 1961. This story is from the April 1950 Fantastic Adventures. Bentley, a selfish rich guy with cancer who’s got a year to live, buys a noted scientist with a promise to build the research institute the scientist dreams of if he will only figure out how to preserve Bentley until such time as he can be revived and cured. The new Institute will be charged with keeping him safe, and also hiding his money, converted to gold and diamonds, until he is awakened to (of course) a nasty surprise that’s not too obvious to the reader. Readable, modestly clever, three stars.
by H. W. MacCauley
Summing Up
So, a middling reading experience—nothing too terrible, most of it at least agreeably readable, one surprise from the unlikely source of Dr. Keller, and the prospect of the Brunner serial pending.
(For an excellent experience, you don't want to miss Part 2 of "The Menagerie", the next episode of Star Trek — join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)
My brother Louis and I diverge quite a lot. He's an observant Jew, I'm an atheist. He served in World War 2 (drafted into the Navy), I did not. He's an affluent pawnbroker. I'm a writer of questionable success.
But where we differ the most is the subjects of our avocational devotion. Lou loves opera. Specifically operas written in 1812 between October and November. I kid, but his musical tastes are really quite narrow; his radio knob never turns from the FM classical stations. I am far more catholic in my interests, enjoying everything from classical, to the swing of my teen years, to the brand new sounds.
Also, Lou hates science fiction.
Interestingly, his son David (thus, my nephew), loves SF as much as I do. Must be this newfangled "generation gap" we're starting to hear about.
For the last 15 years or so, he and I have swapped recommendations, and he's even lent me some of his magazines. Our tastes are not identical. He recently canceled his subscription to The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he is a big fan of Analog. But we have some strong overlap, particularly where it comes to Galaxy. In fact, that picture is him in his San Pedro home enjoying this month's issue.
I am thankful that my own daughter, David's first cousin, is also a devoted science fiction fan. I'd hate to have to throw her out of the house before her eighteenth birthday.
Kidding, again! I'd surely wait for her to be of age before disowning her.
But, that's not anything we have to worry about, for we are all one big happy family of fen, and we all dug the December 1966 Galaxy — read on and see why!
Humanity has developed teleportation technology, and Mars has become a hub for galactic exploration. But a recent jaunt to the edge of the known universe caused the destruction of several portals and the loss of a senator's brother-in-law. Now the politician has arrived on the Red Planet to investigate.
When Poul Anderson sets his mind to it, he can write. Not only is this an effective story, with the mystery disclosed one layer at a time, but it is technically interesting. It's the first depiction of teleportation I've read that takes relative velocities into consideration. A trip to a nearby star could require hops to a dozen intermediaries across the galaxy, or multiple galaxies, to ensure the difference in relative momenta is not too great. I also appreciated the political discussion over the virtues and peril of building a teleporter too close to the Earth.
Where the story falters to some degree is its characterization: Anderson is still in the Kowalski, Yamamoto, Singh habit of defining players by their nationality — and women are strangely absent. Also, the Hoylean/Hubblean fusion of cosmological theories seems like a lot of gobbledegook.
Nevertheless, it's a riveting read. Definitely four stars.
Children in Hiding, by John Brunner
I'm told there are two John Brunners. One is the brilliant Englishman who produced Listen…the Stars! and The Whole Man, both Star-winners and Hugo nominees. The other is the American who produces schlock.
The latter wrote Children in Hiding. The premise: the children on a colony world are born healthy but never develop mental capacities beyond that of infants. A terran troubleshooter is brought in to fix the problem. He does, but not to the benefit of the colony.
There's a lot of angry dialogue and excessive use of exclamation points, and the end is just stupid. I'll give the piece two stars because both Brunners write coherently, but all in all, it's a disappointing story.
The Modern Penitentiary, by Hayden Howard
by Jack Gaughan
Ah, and now we have another story of the Esks, a race of Eskimo/alien hybrids that spawn children every month. Children that mature in five years. Throughout the series, we've seen the Esks explode in population, exhausting their environment and crowding out the real Eskimos. In this, they are facilitated by the do-gooder Canadians, who refuse to see the Esks for the meance they are. Instead, they give the Esks food, relocate them to other areas, etc.
Only one man, Dr. West (who always conjures up the Lovecraft character), knows the truth. When no one listened to his Cassandra cry, he tried to sterilize them with a disease (last story). The plan backfired, killing 23 actual Eskimos. For this, he was imprisoned in the nicest cell ever, complete with a therapeutic nurse-lover. Modern Penitentiary details West's attempts to escape, as well as his rather difficult-to-read sexual adventures.
These installments stand less and less on their own, and they become more implausible every time. Thankfully, we've only one left.
Two stars.
For Your Information: The Sound of the Meteors, by Willy Ley
I really dug this article, all about whether or not one can hear a meteor. It was timely, too, as I read it right before our trip out to the desert to stargaze last weekend.
Four stars (and enjoy these pictures of Borrego Springs!)
The latest Niven story is another set on Mars, a locale we've visited in Eye of the Octopus and How the Heroes Die. Hole takes place a good seventy years after the last story. A smuggler on the run from Belter cops tries to take refuge on Mars at the old base. He finds the crew long dead, murdered when someone, or several someones, slashed their bubble. Was it Martians?
The story also features the return of Luke Garner and Lit Schaeffer from World of Ptavvs, tying Mars to that universe. Along with this month's A Relic of the Empire, which ties Ptavvs in with The Warriors (featuring the Kzinti) and the Beowulf Schaeffer stories set several centuries hence, it appears Niven has knit together six hundred years of future history to play in. Fun stuff!
Four stars.
Decoy System, by Robin Scott
This is a Mack Reynoldsy thriller featuring an American agent's meeting with his Soviet counterpart. Some third party has been sabotaging both the US and USSR's early warning systems so that they will indicate massive nuclear strikes. Aliens are determined to be the culprit. An era of peace and cooperation ensues.
Of course, it was all a Yankee plot. I think I'd have liked this story if I hadn't read the premise before (and seen it as recently as The Architects of Fear). It feels a lot like an Analog story. Also, it's a lot of buildup for an ending that is obvious early on.
Last time, if you'll recall, I hadn't been overly enamored with Jack Vance's latest novel, a direct sequel to The Star King. Kirth Gersen, a rich and supertalented assassin, is on the hunt for Viole Falushe, one of the "Demon Kings" of crime who murdered his parents. The prior installment took us to Earth, where Gersen, disguised as a reporter (working for a paper he has purchased), investigates Falushe's childhood home. Back then, he was known as Vogel Filschner. His best friend and inspiration, before he went into kidnapping and slaving, was the poet, Garnath.
It is the houseboat-dwelling, nigh-incomprehensible Garnath, who provides Gersen his opportunity to meet and kill Falushe. Along the way, he becomes increasingly entangled with Garnath's ward, "Zan Zu of Eridu", who is an exact likeness of Falushe's childhood infatuation.
The first two thirds, in which Gersen plays a cat and mouse game with Falushe, is riveting. The final section, which sees Falushe invite Gershen to his private sanctum ("The Palace of Love") in the far reaches of space, is heavy on description but light on interest.
Still, I'd give this section four stars. It'll be up to the last installment to determine if the whole affair ends up on the three or four star side of the ledger.
Last up, an obtuse piece on the differences in educational policy and success between two planets. It's supposed to be whimsical (when isn't the word applied to Lafferty?), but it's mostly tired.
Two stars.
Summing up
Finishing up at 3.1 stars, I'd say Fred Pohl has done his job to keep Galaxy on our subscription lists for another year at least. And I do mean our — you have to count me in, too!
[Speaking of stories you and your family will enjoy, Sirena, the second book in The Kitra Saga, is out! Fun for adults, young and old.
Buy a copy…you'll be supporting me and getting a great read at the same time!]
![[March 2, 1968] Rules and Regulations (April 1968 <i>IF</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/IF-1968-04-Cover.jpg?resize=639%2C372&ssl=1)
The stars of the show. (l.) Jean-Claude Killy sporting his medals. (r.) Peggy Fleming in her spectacular performance.
The Advanced Guard prepare to study the fauna of Chryseis. Art by Vaughn Bodé
A robot seeks the next lethal trap. Art by Gaughan
Do not fold, spindle or mutilate. Art uncredited
They look like fun. Art by Morrow
The local fauna to be studied. These are the smaller males. Art by Vaughn Bodé
Matt takes a dive. Art by Adkins
Looks like MacApp may be investigating another alien society, and new Zelazny. Fingers crossed!
![[December 16, 1967] Long Distance Travel (December 1967 Galactoscope)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/671216covers.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[December 4, 1967] Devaluation (<i>New Writings in SF-11</i> & <i>Beyond Infinity</i> December 1967)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Cover-Image.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[November 26, 1967] The Shock of the New – Part 3 <i>New Worlds</i>, December 1967 – January 1968](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/new-worlds-dec-67.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
Carnaby Street, London: where's the snow?
Cover by Eduardo Paolozzi, designed by Charles Platt and Christopher Finch
Example of one of the pages of Eduardo Paolozzi and Richard Hamilton art.
There's quite a few missing here!
![[November 8, 1967] Four to go (December 1967 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/671108cover.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[October 24, 1967] War, Anti-utopias and Near-Future Apocalypses <i>New Worlds</i>, November 1967](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/New-Worlds-November-1967.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
Cover by Vivienne Young
An example of the logic shown in this article. Not sure I understood this!
Example of Self's imagery.
Uncredited image, but it looks like a Douthwaite, who is credited in the magazine.
Another uncredited image that looks like a Douthwaite.
Sharing the horror in full – another poetic gem – well, they seem to be liked by some!
Illustration by Cawthorn
The future of energy?
An advertisement from this month's magazine that shows how different book sales and New Worlds magazine is, perhaps? How many of these authors are mentioned in detail in the magazine these days?![[April 28, 1967] Tempest in a Teacup (<i>The Terrornauts</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/Title-card.jpg?resize=672%2C372&ssl=1)
![[January 6, 1967] Happy Anniversary (February 1967 <i>Amazing</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/amz-0267-cover.png?resize=465%2C372&ssl=1)
![[November 24, 1966] Middling (December 1966 <i>Amazing</i>)</big></b>](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/amz-1266-cover.png?resize=503%2C372&ssl=1)
![[November 12, 1966] A Family Tradition (December 1966 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://i0.wp.com/galacticjourney.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/661112cover.jpg?resize=469%2C372&ssl=1)
