Tag Archives: John T. Sladek

[August 26, 1967] The Shock of the New II – Sex and the Modern British SF Reader New Worlds, September 1967


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

The strange evolution of the ‘new’ New Worlds continues this month. Be warned – it’s not an issue to loan to minors!


Cover by Peter Phillips

Let’s go to the issue!

This month’s “Leading Article” looks at our fascination with predicting the future – relevant to science fiction, of course! – but then uses this idea to analyse and review a book named The Art of Conjecture by French writer Bernard de Jouvenal. The future is less known than the past and is therefore more uncertain. Usual food for thought, but this seems less a thought experiment and more an editorial review.

Illustration by Zoline

Camp Concentration (Part 3 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch

In this third part, the fact that Louis Sacchetti is now fully infected with the Pallidine bug, and as it has been known to cause madness before death, leads to more madness and “ramblings”, as Louis puts it. Result: lots of religious iconography and internal ponderings in very short extracts ensue. Questions posed such as “Who is there to answer to the sky?” and vivid descriptions such as “My entrails are trodden down in the mire” may give you a clue where we’re going here.

The clever part is that there is a purpose to the madness. Much of the enjoyment here is in reading Disch’s well-constructed paragraphs and trying to determine what the meaning of it all is. It is very Ballardian, in that try-and-connect-the-deliberately-disjointed-paragraphs-together kind of way.

And yes, also in that Ballardian way, it is all starting to fall apart. More prisoners die. Sacchetti is both sicker and scoring higher than ever on the psychometric tests. Dr Busk seems to have run away from Camp Archimedes, and is replaced by Bobby Fredgren, who conducts more tests on Louis. We are also introduced to Skilliman, a person who seems like they’re straight out of Doctor Strangelove and on whom most of the story is spent describing and making up strange fictions about. I suspect that the reasons for this may become more important and more obvious next time. However, the omens are not good for a happy ending next month. 4 out of 5.

Still Trajectories by Brian W. Aldiss

Another month, another Aldiss, still telling us of a near-future Europe that has experienced psychedelic drugs as a result of Russia dropping hallucinogenic bombs in the Acid Head War. Last time it was about Charteris’s travelling around the English Midlands and becoming Saint Charteris, a god-like personality that is worshipped and adored. This time, we begin in Holland with Speed Supervisor Jan Koninkrijk, who describes the kind of decaying place Colin Charteris did in Multi Value Motorway last month. Lots of talk of cars and highways and speed, because we’re still channelling J G Ballard, but also with its talk of a depressed wife with no personality and the presence of ‘omnivision’ I think there’s a little bit of an homage to Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451.

The story steps up a gear (motoring analogy!) when it is revealed that Colin Charteris, the Mad Messiah last seen in England, is due to visit Jan’s home town of Aalter, on what could be seen as a Crusade in a convoy of cars. In his capacity as future-traffic-cop, Koninkrijk picks up Charteris and his girlfriend Angeline. Strange poetry ensues. Jan is affected by what he hears, and at the end abandons his mundane, routine life. The crusade rumbles on.

Like before in previous stories, there’s lots of vivid imagery and wordplay, not to mention things that are meant to mean a lot. Allegories of cars, speed, and crashing abound, although the poetry lost me a bit. Memorable though this story is, these Charteris stories do feel like little more than cut-up sections of a book, a serial in disguise. 3 out of 5.

Article: Psychological Streamlining by Christopher Finch

This month’s ‘artycle’ (I’ll keep saying it because I like it) examines the work of Peter Phillips, which combines Pop Art sensibilities with technical method. Lots of customisation and American imagery as a result.

I’m still not sure whether these articles are mind-blowing or just self-obsessed clap-trap with delusions of grandeur. Some of the sentences here are just ripe for parody. And yet I must admit that they’re showing me things I had never considered before, which I guess is partly the purpose of art. 3 out of 5.

Masterton and the Clerks by John T. Sladek

Here’s that story delayed from last month.

A sort of Kafka-esque satire which seems to be about the mindless routines and meaningless existence of bureaucracy in the modern office as seen through the observations of Henry on his fellow workers and in particular his boss, Mr. Masterton. As is now de rigueur for much of the New Wave stuff, it’s written in that cut-up style, with diagrams, memos and the like. It’s meant to be amusing, but feels also rather pointless and depressing, filled with people that you wouldn’t want to spend time with, never mind reading about in a far-too-long story. But that may be its point.

Unfortunately, or perhaps appropriately for a story set in an office, it reads like a copy of something else or something that we’ve seen before. It almost feels like Disch has written it. Not convinced that this one was worth the wait, to be honest. File in the “Life’s dull and then you die” filing cabinet, albeit perhaps with a faint smile on your face. 2 out of 5.

Article: A New Look at Vision by Christopher Evans

The return of Dr. Evans, who to me still feels a little like a British version of The Good Doctor Asimov. This month he’s looking at new developments in optics, a much-needed development for those of us who are short-of-sight. (I’m tempted to throw in the joke about “If only I could read the small print”, but I shall refrain.) It begins with facts I didn’t know about the eye, before discussing how contact lenses work, and finally explains the experiments on pattern, form and process that allow us a greater understanding of how our brain works. Another informative article on something I didn’t realise I needed to read about. 4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

You may have noticed, like I have, that there seems to be a trend in New Worlds at the moment about stories involving religion. Not sure why, but I am noticing many stories about God/Gods, religious icons, theology and all the rest of it. Perhaps they’ve always been there and I’m only just noticing them? Anyway, the detailed review this month by C. C. Shackleton is of a book by Alex Comfort, The Anxiety Makers, which initially examines the concepts of  New Theology and New Mysticism.

All well and good. The article then links these concepts to Dr. Comfort's book to make the point (I think) that many of today's anxieties are related to ideas from Victorian times that doctors  are obsessed with dealing with. It then goes into some detail on the origins of these anxieties, referred to as the “four horses of the nineteenth-century apocalypse” – masturbation, sexual intercourse, birth control and constipation. I can safely say that these are topics I would never have expected to read of in New Worlds, although to be fair it examines these issues in a rather matter-of-fact manner.

Some of the ideas examined here are quite complex. I'm not even sure that I got them, as there seems to be an assumption that I know something about the topic already. (I do not.) As a result, I'm not really sure of its relevance here, although as an article perhaps meant to shock, I guess it might sell a few more copies. Personally, though, it makes me feel like my copy of New Worlds should be hidden behind the newsagent’s counter… can’t see it being widely promoted on the shelves of my local W H Smiths.

The other reviews this month by James Cawthorn are less titillating and more genre based. Keith Laumer’s A Plague of Demons “moves along briskly, achieves some neat lines of hard-boiled humour and is, above all, entertainment.” Brief mention is also made of Robert Silverberg’s To Open the Sky (religion, again), but this is mainly descriptive rather than analytical.

Summing up New Worlds

Another wide-ranging issue, some of which is on topics I didn’t expect. I feel that the fiction is a minor part of the magazine this month, although it can’t be denied that the magazine seems to be going all out to broaden its readership. The Disch is becoming more obtuse, John Sladek’s Masterton and the Clerks was a disappointment, although I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting.

In short, a solid issue, but not an outstanding one. With the emphasis on articles, I have a feeling that whilst trying to gain new reader’s interest, the staff may be losing their traditional readership. I do wonder what the New Worlds readers of the 1950’s would make of this issue. There’s no denying that there’s science, but where’s the science fiction? Even the fiction seems more literary and less science-fictional than what has gone before.

And I realise that that may be the point.

In this brave new world of New Worlds there may be less space for spaceships and more room for sex – or at least adult topics. This fits in with the brief that Moorcock made his intent years ago, to modernise and adult-ise science fiction, and what the Arts Council want their grant to be used for, but based on what I’m seeing here I’m not sure that it means the magazine has found, or will find, a bigger, more interested audience.


A 21st anniversary issue – has it really been around that long?

Until the next!





[June 26, 1967] Change is Here (New Worlds, July 1967)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

It’s been a while, but I’m pleased to finally receive a copy of the new New Worlds. (Note: no longer with sf impulse.)

And it is new, and different.

The first noticeable change was heralded by the slap of the magazine landing on my doormat. Clearly designed to compete with the big glossies on the newsagent’s shelves, New Worlds has changed from the paperback size (7 inches x 4 ½ inches) to something that is 11 inches by 8 ½ inches. It reminds me of that change that Analog Magazine tried a couple of years ago.

As fellow Traveller Kris explained back in March, the magazine now has funding from the UK Arts Council – the rumours seem to suggest somewhere in the region of £120 000. So we now get bigger (in size, if not in the number of pages) and glossier, determined to impress. But is it enough? Let’s go to the issue!

Another change. The “Editorial” has now become the “Leading Article”. Presumably this is to let other writers than the editor Mike Moorcock to do some of the writing. This issue states that the article is by Moorcock with “editorial contributions and assistance from Thomas M. Disch and (Mrs Moorcock) Hilary Bailey” on the contents page.

Other than that, the message is pretty much the usual – change is here and this magazine reflects that change. There is an emphasis on social change and the social sciences, “imperfect as they are” being the new place to go to examine the human condition as it is – and by looking at the past how the human condition has changed. To do this, the writers cover a broad range of ideas, from Victorian melodrama to religion, Freud, Kafka and Viet Nam. All good stuff and thought-provoking, not to mention controversial – I suspect Analog readers might have something to say on the matter!

Really though, it is the usual ideas that we’ve seen in recent Editorials in New Worlds, albeit for a potentially new audience.

Illustration by Zoline

Camp Concentration (part 1 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch

And so to this month’s big event story.

The story is told in a diary format. As the narrator, Louis Sacchetti, begins his tale we discover that he is in Springfield prison with a five year sentence for being “a conchie”, a conscientious objector to the war the US is fighting. (There are deliberate parallels here with Viet Nam, I think.) Without warning, writer Sacchetti finds himself being taken from Springfield to Camp Archimedes, where he is to be an observer and write as if to an outsider what the Camp is like. He is well looked after, although the reason for this is initially unknown.

He meets fellow prisoners George Wagner and Mordecai Washington, the nominal leader of the prison inmates, and Doctor Aimee Busk, who explains that George is part of an experimental group at Camp Archimedes attempting to enhance intelligence.

Sacchetti meets more of the prisoners. Like in some bizarre alternate version of a WW2 prisoner-of-war film, Sacchetti agrees to help set up a theatre production by the prisoners, that of Marlowe's Faustus. During the performance George becomes violently ill. Mordecai explains to Sacchetti that it is a side-effect of being given Pallidine, a drug that rots the brain and gives the person months to live whilst hopefully improving intelligence.

The drug enhancement made me think that Camp Concentration is like Daniel Keyes’s Flowers for Algernon, but for a more grown-up, more worldly-wise and drug-aware audience. The whole story (so far, anyway!) is dark, unsettling and decidedly adult, more Aldiss than Asimov. Filled with cultural and literary references, we are a long way away from the traditional space opera here, although I can see that this nearly continuous name-dropping may be wearisome in the long-term.

Last time, in the "Up and Coming" advertisement for this issue,  Moorcock declared Camp Concentration to be the finest sf novel we have ever published. I was a little wary of the hyperbole, personally, but I must admit that this is actually pretty good, a more contemporary version of Orwell’s nightmarish autocratic vision in 1984, perhaps.

It’s not always easy reading, and some of the language used is quite shocking and not for everyone, but this is big, bold science fiction and a story for our modern times. I can’t wait to see where it goes next. 5 out of 5.

The Death Module by J. G. Ballard

Appropriate illustration for the cut-up world of J. G. Ballard. Illustration by Douthwaite.

Leading the British sector of the so-called New Wave, where would we be without a contribution from England’s “Mr Chuckles”, J. G. Ballard? Irony aside, this is typically anti-utopian stuff made up of the usual cut-up snippets and dense yet precise prose we expect from Mr. Ballard.

Regular readers of his work will find characters from previous work reappear – Karen Novotny, Coma, Kline, Xero, Ralph Nader, J. F. Kennedy, Harvey Oswald – now joined by the three dead (and thankfully unnamed) astronauts of the recent Apollo disaster, though to what exact purpose is under debate. Images of sex, pornography and crashing vehicles proliferate in this collage of moments. As baffling as ever, fans will appreciate more of the bleakness and the dour mood that typically suffuse Ballard’s work. Intellectually disconcerting. 4 out of 5.

1937 A. D. ! by John T. Sladek

John Sladek has been appearing a lot in the British magazines lately. Whilst not quite as noticeable as Disch or Zelazny, he has been known to be creating readable stories of interest. This is another one, a time-travel story that in its setting and lighter tone has the feel of a Bradbury rather than a Wells – or perhaps a Clifford Simak. Amusing and well done, if nothing really new. 3 out of 5.

Article: Sleep, Dreams and Computers by Dr. Christopher Evans

This heralds the return of science articles to New Worlds. Dr. Christopher Evans is known here for his articles on computers. He’s not Isaac Asimov, admittedly, but his article on computers, sleep and machine intelligence (they are connected here!) is accessible and written in a prose that is not intimidating. 4 out of 5.

The Heat Death of the Universe by P. A. Zoline

Zoline is perhaps known for her art – there is some of it in the magazine! – but here her prose “does a Ballard” and is presented in small, easily digestible chunks. 3 out of 5.

Not So Certain by David Masson

The return of David Masson brings me mixed feelings. When his work is good, it is very, very good – see his story Traveller’s Rest, for example, back in the September 1965 issue.

However, some of his more recent stories have been less impressive – often still ambitious, but for me lacking something.

The good news is that I enjoyed this one a little more than some. Not so Certain deals with one of Masson’s interests that has appeared in his stories before – that of linguistics and syntax. It is pleasantly complex, although overall the story feels like a lecture, heavy on its didactics. As a result, it is rather like Ballard’s work to me – complex, intelligent and yet rather mystifying. There’s some effort made here, but it does feel rather dull, with a cop-out ending. 3 out of 5.

Article: Expressing the Abstract by Charles Platt

The first page of the Escher article, showing how the magazine is taking advantage of its new quality printing and bigger layout. 

And talking of lectures, here’s an article from the magazine’s newly-employed Art Director (you may also remember him for his prose too!) that examines the work of abstract artist E. M. Escher. This accounts for the eye-catching cover this month, but also explains that – wait for it! – there is more to Escher than meets the eye! (Sorry.) An interesting and enlightening article, that I suspect is here because it fits the wider brief given to the magazine by the Arts Council. 4 out of 5.

The Soft World Sequence by George MacBeth

Poetry. Glass eye in groin. Cucumbers. 2 out of 5.

In the House of the Dead by Roger Zelazny

Lyrical Fantasy from Roger. Strange, gruesome, experimental dream-like images… the sort of thing now expected from the New Wave. An apocalyptic tale of gods and Masters, it is more obtuse than most of the recent material I’ve read of his. Thus, I liked this a little less, but it is still quite good.  4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

Brian Aldiss continues to provide book reviews in this new New Worlds. This month, Brian has two descriptions of non-fiction books about the Hiroshima atomic bomb and a discussion on the consequences of such an event. Douglas Hill reviews Judith Merril’s The Year’s Best S-F, 11th Annual Edition. James Cawthorn (here as “J. Cawthorn”) reviews Samuel R. Delany’s The Einstein Intersection, Roger Zelazny’s Four for Tomorrow, Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle and Robert Bloch’s collection, Pleasant Dreams / Nightmares, amongst others.

I like the more in-depth reviews, with Aldiss clearly the star of the show this month – even if they’re reviews of books I’m not tempted to read or buy myself.

Another change – there’s a little potted history of all of the contributors at the end of the magazine. I liked it – it’s a nice classy touch, and introduces the authors to those who may not know them from previous incarnations.

Summing up the new New Worlds

If I had to predict what I thought the new New Worlds would be like, this issue would be it. A wide-ranging mixture of science articles, articles on art, book reviews, poetry and yes, some science fiction, but a literary science fiction that is of “the now”, rather than something that harkens back to the past.

Comparing this to earlier Moorcock issues and especially the John Carnell era issues of a mere couple of years ago, this is a revelation, although regular readers may feel that this is what we’ve been leading up to.

More importantly, I think that this issue is the closest we’ve got so far to Moorcock’s vision for New Worlds. It is eclectic, abstract, big, bold and experimental. I feel that this issue is designed to show everyone what a science fiction magazine can offer – and, in my opinion, it mainly delivers. Ballard is Ballard, whilst the Disch is designed to shock – and does a pretty good job.

Whilst many of the authors are those we have read before, Moorcock clearly picking favourites to highlight the potential of his magazine, the presentation of a package of diverse material makes it seem new. It feels deliberately determined to prod, cajole and create controversy. You may not like everything here (and I didn’t!), but I think that that is the point. Is it science fiction and fantasy for the masses, though? Time will tell.

For me, Mike has impressed with this issue – now all he has to do is keep up this quality on a regular basis.

Until the next!



 

[October 24, 1966] Birds, Roaches and Rings, New Worlds and SF Impulse, November 1966


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

We seem to be on a bit of a roll at the moment with the British magazines. Generally, there are more stories that are good than bad, and even some really, really good. Whilst the experimental stuff can be a mixed bag, there’s no denying that what we are reading now is *cough* “worlds away” from the generic stuff we were reading ten years ago.

Even comparing the British material with the US magazines shows some clear differences.

And yet at the same time there are worrying rumours that subscriptions are declining, especially that of SF Impulse, which has always been the less popular of the two, and – whisper it softly – the reason for SF Impulse having to bring in a new Editor, Harry Harrison, to try and slow the decline.

Both magazines are bringing readers new ideas and new stories every month – except that both magazines have had to include “classic” stories recently, presumably in part because they are cheaper to republish.

I hope that the rumours aren’t true, but it is a little worrying.

Nevertheless, for now, it’s full steam ahead, but with regular glances to the horizon. Like last month, I’ll start with New Worlds.

This month Mike Moorcock’s Editorial poses the question: “Are there too many science fiction books being published?” Usually to questions like this I would say “Absolutely not!” and then move on, but Mike makes the point that because most of the books published are mediocre, the shop shelves are filled with banality that obscures the ones worth reading and gives sf a reputation for unchallenging and poor reading material. Not sure that I entirely agree, but it means that the Editorial does that thing it should do – of making the reader think and perhaps take a look at something from a different angle before moving on.

Let’s hope the argument doesn’t extend to ”Are there too many British science fiction magazines being published?”

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Storm Bird, Storm Dreamer, by J. G. Ballard

The cover story first. More depressingly dystopian prose from J. G., although this one is more straight-forward than some of his recent efforts. A near future landscape shows a world in environmental chaos. One of the side-effects has been that in Daphne du Maurier style the birds have started attacking humans. Captain Crispin spends much of his time shooting them in a constant battle between Man and bird. He also meets Catherine York, who oddly spends her time collecting dead bird’s feathers and leaving them to dry. These two odd characters develop an unusual relationship that doesn’t end well. The reason for York’s strange behaviour is explained at the end.

This one has the usual dramatic prose from Ballard, with vivid descriptive paragraphs, but in a more straight-forward narrative than his cut-up stories. It reminded me of his piece Dune Limbo, published in the March 1965 issue of New Worlds, where the not particularly pleasant characters attempt to survive in a challenging landscape. Never the happiest of settings, nevertheless the bleakness of Ballard’s more linear narrative makes this one more memorable to me. 4 out of 5.

The Flight of Daedalus, by Thomas M. Disch

And from one type of flight to another. The third month in a row from Disch. This time it is poetry, subtitled “fragment of an abandoned poem” and something Moorcock is still determined to include in the magazine. And whilst it is not my thing, as I have said before, it is fair. 3 out of 5.

A Man Must Die , by John Clute

Another story of flight – anyone would think that there’s a theme here! – but this time about a young man’s determination to run away from the guiding hands of Mother to Father. The main point of the story is that young Picasso Perkins III is the son of a spaceship’s captain, and much of the story is about how he is being educated to take on that role in the future and what happens when he does. Lots to like here in that Clute takes fairly traditional themes and gives them a spin under new management, with some rather surreal, trippy scenes. 3 out of 5.

Flesh of my Flesh , by J. J. Mundis

A new name, and another of those pseudo-religious diatribes that uses religious devotion to try and make a story, full of religious visions and angst. I very rarely like these, but it is done well enough. 3 out of 5.

The Thinking Seat, by Peter Tate

A name that has been quite prominent in the last few months, last seen with The First Last Martyr in the August issue of SF Impulse. Readers seem to really like Peter’s stories, but they never really impress me.

This one’s slightly better – an environmental tale that combines hip poetry with a range of weird and unlikeable characters in a dystopian future frontier town in California. The setting is Ballardian in its depressing-ness, whilst the characters seem to be full of important phrases but otherwise impotent. Feels like the author’s trying to be like Samuel L. Delany or Anthony Burgess, with less success, but it is a fair effort to be different. 3 out of 5.

The Poets of Millgrove, Iowa, by John T. Sladek

Another American big-hitter. This one does that Ballardian thing of sub-dividing the prose into short chapters. It tells of an American astronaut and his wife Jeanne being paraded out at the Millgrove Harvest Festival parade. Like Ballard’s tales, or perhaps John Brunner’s, lots of cultural brand-names bandied around to show that American heroes are being commercialised and sanitised as with any other product. It is interesting to read an American take on the themes that Ballard often uses so well. I can see why Moorcock would like it: it is meant to shock. 4 out of 5.

The Garbage World (Part 2 of 2), by Charles Platt

We continue the environmental theme with the second part of this story. In the first part we were told of Kopra, a world used by the rest of the Belt to dump its waste, and how a construction team were to begin to build a gravity generator to stop the planet destroying itself and becoming an environmental hazard. Recently deposed ‘mayor’ Isaac Gaylord had had his personal wealth stolen and blaming the nomads from outside of the village for taking advantage of the new situation goes to retrieve it with his daughter Juliette and her new boyfriend Lucian Roach. Whilst travelling around a mud lake their tractor had broken down and their radio was stolen, leaving them stranded.

In this installment, Gaylord returns to the village and Lucian finds that there is a devious plot by the outsiders to actually destroy, not save, Kopra. Roach confirms that he is in love with Juliette and goes native. The Kopra-ites escape the planet, and the story ends with an orgy on a spaceship as the planet explodes. (Outside of Heinlein, does this sort of story gain traction anywhere else but in Britain?)

As such a description shows, the cliff-hanger ending last time deteriorates into a pulpy space opera type tale. I was hoping that the story would raise itself above its crass beginning, but sadly it was not to be. Whilst I still think that there’s some good descriptions of this most unusual planet in here, the simple characterisation means that the tale is basically an old-school “planetary explorer” story with sex. 3 out of 5.

The Tennyson Effect, by Graham M. Hall

A new name to me, I think. This story is one of those experimental prose streams of consciousness that try to tell a lot but actually do little. Not for me, I’m afraid. 2 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Realms of Tolkien, by Daphne Castell

An unusual point here, being an article from a writer that we’ve usually known for her fiction. What Daphne does here is tell us of the fantasy that has really caught on in the US, I gather. Most interestingly the article tells of an interview Daphne has had with the reclusive Professor Tolkien about his work and gives the reader both an idea of the story and through discussion with Tolkien a flavour of the complexity of Tolkien’s world. Whilst it is not unbiased, the article clearly shows a detailed knowledge of Tolkien’s writing and makes some interesting points as to his success.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Book Reviews

This month, just one book – Michael Orgill discusses the collection The Voices of Time, edited by J. T. Fraser. It is “a massive study of the problem of time”. The review covers what is good, bad and interesting in the book, and overall “there is a lot to admire.”

No Letters pages again this month.

Summing up New Worlds

Another generally good issue with a combination of new writers and imported Americans who are determined to push the boundaries. I am intrigued by the environmental slant of many of the stories this month, though Moorcock does not seem to make a big deal out of it, choosing instead a flight connection. The experimental stuff still works with varying degrees of success to my mind, although the Editor deserves credit for not sticking to the expected ideas and styles of science fiction.

The Second Issue At Hand


And now to SF Impulse, under the rule of its new editor Harry Harrison. There are signs of changes, this month. We have book reviews and a letters section amidst the fiction.

The Ice Schooner (part 1 of 3) by Michael Moorcock


Illustration by Keith Roberts

To begin with, though, here we have the editor of New Worlds as an author in SF Impulse. To be fair, Mike was an author long before he was the editor of New Worlds, and after his last effort of fiction (Behold, the Man! in the September issue of New Worlds, I was interested to see where this one went.

It is very different. The Ice Schooner is set in some sort of science fantasy setting, with elements of sf but set on a future icy Earth that seems to be straight out of the old adventure pulps.

Konrad Arflane is a man of the ice in a post-Nuclear future where the world is ice-covered and whales have adapted to living on the ice. Humans live in the eight cities of the Matto Grosso between which boats travel on the ice to trade or to hunt the whales as a major food source. Arflane is travelling the ice wastes when he sees a person crawling across the ice. Impressed by the man’s determination to go somewhere, Arflane rescues him. The man is a Friesgaltian aristocrat, which makes his place on the ice even more mysterious.

Taking him to Friesgalt, Arflane discovers that the man is Ship Lord Pyotr Rorsefne of Friesgalt, who is grateful for his rescue. Whilst Rorsefne recovers, Konrad is asked to stay in the Ship Lord’s home, although the lord’s son in law makes him uncomfortable. Konrad is shown a ship belonging to Rorsefne, the Ice Flame, and he becomes restless. He meets an old friend, Captain Jarhan Brenn of the Tender Maiden, and in a bar together they meet legendary harpoonist Long Lance Urquart, who tells everyone of a major herd sighted in the South Ice fields. The next day Pyotr tells Konrad that he would like him to take on a journey to the North where lies the legendary city of New York, where proof of climate change will show that the world is changing again. The story ends on a cliff-hanger as Manfred, Arflame and Janek and Ulrica Ulsenn first agree to go hunting.

I liked it a lot. It reads like some sort of post-apocalyptic Norse fantasy, sort of Moby Dick meets Poul Anderson, and whilst the characters are not particularly original, I enjoyed the imaginative setting very much. As a straight-forward Jules Verne type of tale it is very good, an adventure tale of the old-school, but much, much better than the Platt effort in New Worlds this month. I’m looking forward to seeing where this one sails to in the next issue. Nice to see Kyril Bonfiglioli get the credit for buying this one, too. Like most of Kyril’s material under his editorship, The Ice Schooner is entertaining, if rather unoriginal. 4 out of 5.

Book Fare by Tom Boardman

Aldiss’s review last month of The Clone by Theodore L Thomas and Kate Wilhelm has now developed into a review column. Tom Boardman looks at Frederik Pohl’s A Plague of Pythons and Hal Clements’ Close to Critical. Both show a range in sf – one is more about Sociology, the other a harder sf – and whilst neither are the author’s best, they are both worth reading for different reasons.

The Simple for Love, by Keith Roberts

An Anita (the teenage witch) story! Anita falls in love with a human – a Catholic – and leaves Granny and Foxhanger for him. A surprisingly romantic story from Roberts, this one, with some interesting ideas of the bigger coven network and witchcraft generally. I have grown to like these stories more and more, although I will be the first to admit that the premise is rather silly. 4 out of 5.

Stop Seventeen by Robert Wells

The story of someone (Hart) on an underground train that seems to be forever travelling as after the Apocalypse the system has gone to automatic. Clearly a metaphor for life in general, this one read well. Not entirely pointless, I found myself humming The Beatles’ “Ticket to Ride” whilst reading this one. Not entirely sure whether that is a good thing or a bad one! The ending is rather a let-down, though. 3 out of 5.

Letters to the Editor

Another innovation intended to appeal to the regular reader. One of the letters is from Brian Stableford, who we came across in last month’s Sf Impulse. There are also mentions here of the change in editorship and Keith Roberts responds to a letter about Pavane. Interesting approach in that the author is allowed to respond to the letter-writer.


Illustration by Keith Roberts

The Eyes of the Blind King by Brian W. Aldiss

Another Aldiss tale. The title immediately reminded me of the story The Day of the Doomed King published in Science Fantasy in November 1965. This is deliberate – the same setting but an earlier tale. This time it is a story of deposed and deliberately blinded King Jurosh and seven-year-old Prince Vukasan in Byzantium. Jurosh is wanting to return to Serbia and take back his throne from brother Nickolas. It is a tale of loyalty, murder and betrayal, which is quite violent. This one reminds me of Thomas Burnett Swann’s stories, mixing fantasy with a quasi-historical setting, which for me can only be a good thing. It is as good, if not better than, the first story. 4 out of 5.


Illustration by Keith Roberts

The Roaches by Thomas M. Disch

Another Disch story this month. This one ramps up the psychological horror, a story of how these troublesome insects can force people to leave their apartment. Although we don’t get cockroaches here in Britain, this one did make my skin crawl, which is quite an achievement. 4 out of 5.

SF Film Festival by Francesco Blamonti

Although we had brief reports of Loncon, I don’t think we’ve had a review of a film festival since the Carnell days of New Worlds. This is about the Fourth Annual Festival of Science Fiction Films, held in Trieste in Italy. A good time seems to have been had by many, and there is mention of various films made and authors such as Harry Harrison and Arthur C Clarke who attended. Does feel a little like filler though, even if you could argue that the magazine is trying to broaden its appeal.

Pasquali’s Peerless Puppets by Edward Mackin

The return of a popular character is usually a crowd-pleaser, and so it is here with Edward Mackin’s character Hek Belov. Down on his luck (again), cyberneticist Belov is offered work by Meerschraft – a modern entertainer wishes to resurrect puppeteer Pasquali’s act to a new generation but has found that Pasquali disappeared with the secret of his trade. Belov is persuaded to use his skills to try and resurrect the robotic puppets, but finds a bigger plan at work. It feels a little like a sub-par Asimov Robot story, but I quite enjoyed this one. The style is humorous, yet knowing. 3 out of 5.

Summing up SF Impulse

Interesting issue this one. Nothing I disliked and a lot I did. The changes have started to happen, and Harrison (and Roberts) deserve credit for trying to regenerate the magazine. My only concern is that SF Impulse now reads like New Worlds’ shy cousin – not that different and possibly of lesser interest, overshadowed by its more flamboyant centre-stage-hugging member of the family. Is there room in the British market for both? I hope so, but I’m not sure.

Despite all of this, I liked the issue a lot. Like New Worlds, there’s a mixture of new and regular writers, and some range in the stories. Whilst the stories may be less experimental than this month’s New Worlds, there’s a lot I enjoyed.

Summing up overall

So: which one did I like most? SF Impulse is clearly trying to find a new way forward, if not perhaps as ‘New Wave’ as its more noticeable sibling. Both issues were good, the Ballard story startlingly so, the Moorcock surprisingly so. New Worlds has more troubling, more edgy, more in-your-face content, but is also more prone to stories I like less.

With that in mind, then, and on enjoyment alone, SF Impulse again has it, despite my concerns mentioned above. But is it enough to make that difference in sales? Time will tell.


Until the next…