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[December 20, 1969] Stars above, stars at hand (January 1970 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

December 20, 2024 Gideon Marcus 1 Comment

[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]

by Gideon Marcus

Being #2… stinks

On the scene at the launch of Apollo 12, President Nixon assured the NASA technicians that America was #1 in space, and that it wasn't just jingoism—it was true!

Well, even a stopped clock, etc. In fact, all accounts suggest the Soviet space program had some serious setbacks last year, the results of which will be felt through at least to 1971. Schedules got shifted as large rockets were earmarked for purely military service in response to the escalating (now calmed) Sino-Soviet crisis. But the biggest issue was reported in Aviation Weekly last month: apparently, the Soviets lost a Saturn-class booster on the launch pad before liftoff last summer. I hadn't even heard that such a thing was in development! The rocket's loss has set back the USSR's manned space program by at least a year, resulting in tepid non-achievements like their recent triple Soyuz mission rather than the construction of a space station or a trip to the Moon.

This is actually the rocket from the Soviet film The Sky Calls (American title: Battle Beyond the Sun)

It didn't help that the Soyuz pads were occupied during the summer as the Soviets tried to match our lunar efforts. It may well be that their Saturn was rushed to service too soon, and similar gun-jumping may have caused the loss of the Luna 15 sample-return mission.

Speaking of which, in September, the Soviets launched Kosmos 300 and 305. Both of them were heavy satellites that went into the orbit usually used for lunar Zond missions. And then they reentered shortly thereafter…in pieces. It's not certain if these were to be circumlunar flights or retries of Luna 15. Either way, they didn't work out, either.

Meanwhile, the Apollo mission moves blithely along. Apollo 13 will go to the Moon next March to Fra Mauro, a landing site photographically scouted out by the Apollo 12 folks. This chapter of the Space Race is well and truly over, won by the forces of democracy championed by such luminaries as Spiro Agnew.

That's a good rock

Speaking of Apollo 12, you may recall earlier this month I talked about analysis of the Moon rocks brought back by Apollo 11. A similar report has come out about the rocks brought back by Conrad and Bean. Dr. Oliver A. Schaeffer of New York State Univ. at Stony Brook says they are only 2.2 to 2.5 billion years old—1-2 billion years younger than the Armstrong and Aldrin's samples. This means some kind of surface activity was ongoing on the comparatively quiet Moon—meteorite strikes and/or vulcanism, we don't know yet.

NASA astronaut Charles "Pete" Conrad, commander of the Apollo 12 mission, holds two moon rocks he and Alan Bean brought back to Earth. Taken last month at Manned Spacecraft Center's Lunar Receiving Laboratory.

Also, Dr. S. Ross Taylor of Australian National Univ. says the Apollo 12 samples contain about half the titanium as the Apollo 11 rocks and also more nickel, though otherwise, their chemistry is similar. Thus, the Moon is far from homogeneous, and we have just scratched the surface (so to speak) of the mystery that is the Moon. As we get more samples from more sites, a better picture will come together, but it will undoubtedly take time; imagine trying to contemplate all of Earth's geologic diversity from just two short digs?

Holiday Feast

Cover by Mel Hunter

Longtooth, by Edgar Pangborn

Ben Dane is a widower with a bad heart, stranded by a blizzard at his friend Harp's house. When the home is beset by a furry, anthropoid monster, the two give chase. Is it a crazed lunatic? An alien? The Abominable Snowman?

Pangborn really lets you live inside his characters, vividly depicting the Maine land and farmscape as well as the personalities that populate his stories. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the tale's telling, which takes its time, satisfied with the redolence of its scenery. The real problem is the uninspired ending; what we have here, aside from the liberal sprinkling of four-letter words, is a piece that could have come out in Weird Tales thirty years ago.

Three stars.

Books (F&SF, January 1970), by Joanna Russ

Ms. Russ has come into her own as a columnist—her review of Day of the Dolphin was so funny that I was compelled to read it aloud to my wife. She goes on to damn Spinrad's Bug Jack Barron with faint praise, agreeing only with the simple premise that all men have their price. Russ gives highest marks to Jack Vance's Emphyrio, which our Victoria Silverwolf enjoyed.

Indeed, Russ' opinions mirror those of our own staff, though Jason liked Dophin more than Joanna did.

Russ ends her piece with a tepid review of a tepid anthology: Best SF: 1968, edited by Harry Harrison.

A Matter of Time and Place, by Larry Eisenberg

The name "Emmett Duckworth" inevitably elicits a weary sigh, for this series following the offbeat adventures of an inventor are invariably stupid.

Such is the case here where Duckworth is pressed into service by the Pentagon to make a host of ambitious but unworkable weapons. In the end, he discovers that there is a conservation of local entropy: the more domestic disorder in America, the more peaceful the world becomes.

Every scientific assertion in the story is ludicrous. It doesn't even work as farce. One star.

by Gahan Wilson

E Pluribus Solo, by Bruce McAllister

The last bald eagle, locked inside the Smithsonian for its protection, is under attack. A mercenary with a vicious falcon sidekick has been hired to dispatch this American icon. All that stands between them is one overmatched security guard…

This is a gruesome story, and I wasn't sure if I was going to like it, but the end is redeeming.

On the edge of three and four stars. I guess I'll flip it to the latter.

Car Sinister, by Gene Wolfe

This is a genuinely funny piece. A fellow takes his Rambler American to the seedy shop in his village to be serviced. What he doesn't know until too late is that his car has been stud serviced by another vehicle…and his car is now pregnant.

The only failing to this story is that it doesn't end. It just sort of trails off, either too soon or too long after the punchline is delivered. The implied biology of cars is fascinating, though. They seem to be like Gethenians from Left Hand of Darkness: all are capable of giving birth, but they can take on either sexual role.

Four stars.

A Third Hand, by Dean R. Koontz

A genetic freak dubbed Timothy is cooked up in a DoD lab. Armless and legless, and with only one eye, he is nevertheless one of humanity's most gifted members. That's because he has an IQ of 250+ and Gil Hamilton's ability to psionically manipulate small items at close range. Eventually, he is given prosthetic arms and legs to give him a "normal" life—sort of a flip side to McCaffrey's The Ship Who… series (where deformed brains are turned into spaceship control centers).

But that's just setting up the character. The story starts when Timothy witnesses the death of his guitarist buddy over the visiphone at the hands of a notorious crime boss. The handicapped genius applies all of his resources toward bringing the fiend to justice.

Koontz throws a lot of interesting future tech into his story: home printers that reproduce daily photostatted newspapers; androids that uncannily imitate their owners; floating death machines called Hounds. What he doesn't do is anything with his protagonist. Timothy is unique in all ways except mindset, which is not only conventional, but not even particularly brilliant. In the event, his main distinction is his limited telekinesis, and if you've read Niven's "The Organleggers", then you certainly won't get much out of this.

Three stars.

Ride the Thunder, by Jack Cady

Highway 150 is haunted, and all the cargo-haulers know it. And it's because of a mean young cuss called Joe Indian, who runs an old Mack with a load of turkeys, transported in the most inhumane way possible. What's his story, and how is the spectral visitation ended? You'll have to read to the end to find out.

A fine ghost story, by a trucker for truckers, originally published in Overdrive, a trucker mag, in 1967. Four stars.

Bughouse, by Doris Pitkin Buck

Two couples at a personal soirée. One of the husbands suggests that they might all be a little mad, and he proposes to prove it by having them all eat an Oriental bug poison (which should have no effect on humans—unless they're "buggy").

A slight, but interestingly written, piece. Three stars.

The Lunar Honor-Roll, by Isaac Asimov

This month's science article has a touching book-end: Ike's dad apparently lived long enough to experience not only the flight of the first aircraft but also the first lunar mission, passing away a couple of weeks after the flight of Apollo 11. A fan of science fiction, he instilled a love of learning and educating that has served The Good Doctor well. The meat inside the reminiscence is a nice piece on the naming of the Moon's prominent features. Why are so many 16th Century, medieval, and Greek astronomers honored? Why do we have Alps and Apennines on the Moon as well as lakes, seas, and an ocean?

Worth reading. Five stars.

A Delicate Operation, by Robin Scott

Getting a brilliant doctor out of East Germany to freedom in the West is tough at the best of times. A "white" operation, where a double is sent in so the target can escape, is considered unworkable because no suitable man can be found for the job. A "black" op (smuggling out as hidden cargo) is planned, but when the latter fails, it seems all hope is lost. That is, until Dr. Celia Adams, a supremely talented British biologist, takes matters into her own hands. Can she succeed where the cynical, oversexed CIA veteran (the ostensible hero of our story) cannot?

This is a tight, fun story whose ending you'd likely only guess because you know it has to be SFnal given where it was published. Much is made of the East German doctor being gay, which turns out to be fundamental to the plot.

Four stars.

Seasons Greetings!

Well that was a fine repast (even if the two cover authors turned in the lesser works). And we're now up to a two-magazine streak. Will 1970 be the year F&SF truly deserves the Hugo it won in August? That would be something to celebrate, indeed!

[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]

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Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 8, 1969] Do Better (January 1970 Amazing)

December 8, 2024 John Boston 1 Comment

by John Boston

The January 1970 Amazing continues in its newly-established course—“ALL NEW STORIES Plus A Classic”—though it’s fronted in the all-too-long-established manner, with another capable enough but generic cover by Johnny Bruck, reprinted from a 1965 issue of Perry Rhodan. Editor White has acknowledged this practice and, I suspect, is looking to end it when circumstances and the publisher permit.

by Johnny Bruck

The usual complement of features are here, starting with a long editorial meditation about the Moon landing, reactions to it, the progress (or lack thereof) of technology generally, and a note of cogent pessimism about the future of the space program: we can do it, but will we? The book reviews continue long and feisty, with White slagging James Blish’s generally well-received Black Easter, concluding: “At best, then, Black Easter is not a novel, but only an extended parable. At worst, it is a tract. In either case, it pleads its point through the straw-man manipulations of its author in a fashion I consider to be dishonest to its readers.” The milder-mannered Richard Delap says that Avram Davidson’s The Island Under the Earth “isn’t a horrid book like some of the dredges of magazine juvenilia we’ve seen recently; it’s soundly adult and imaginative but just too uneven and incomplete to be a good one.” Damning with faint praise, or the opposite? New reviewer Dennis O’Neil, a comic book scripter and “long a friend of SF, and a one-time neighbor of Samuel Delany,” compliments Thomas M. Disch’s Camp Concentration: “Of all the adjectives which might be applied to Camp Concentration—‘artful,’ ‘brilliant,’ and ‘shocking’ come to mind—maybe the most appropriate is ‘heretical.’ ” He then reads the book in terms of Disch’s assumed religious background. “Catholicism is a hard habit to kick. James Joyce didn’t manage it, and neither does Tom Disch.”

The regular fanzine reviewer, John D. Berry, is on vacation, so White turns the column over to “Franklin Hudson Ford,” apparently a pseudonym of his own, for a long and praiseful review of Harry Warner’s fan history All Our Yesterdays. The letter column is even more contentious than the book reviews, with one correspondent addressing “My Dear Mr. Berry: You and your coterie of comic-stripped idiots” (etc. etc.). John J. Pierce, he of the “Second Foundation” and denunciations of the New Wave, explains that he really does have some taste: “If the romantic, expansive traditions of science fiction are to be saved, they will be saved by the Roger Zelaznys and the Ursula LeGuins, not by the Lin Carters or the Charles Nuetzels”—a point I had not realized was in contention. William Reynolds, an Associate Profession of “Bus. Ad.” at a Virginia community college, tries to correct White about the operation of the Model T Ford and provokes a response as spirited as it is mechanical. One Joseph Napolitano complains about “new wave stories”: These new wave writers “don’t want to work. Its [sic] not easy to come up with an idea for a story and they just don’t want to take the time and use what little brains they have to do this.” (Etc. etc.)

After all this amusing contention, it is unfortunate to have to report that the fiction contents of this issue are pretty lackluster.

A. Lincoln, Simulacrum (Part 2 of 2), by Philip K. Dick

I’m a great admirer of Philip K. Dick’s best work, and some of his less perfect productions as well. So it’s painful to report that A. Lincoln, Simulacrum, is a bust. It has its moments, but there aren’t enough of them and they don’t add up to much, even though the novel’s themes reflect some of Dick’s long-standing preoccupations.

Protagonist Louis Rosen is partner in a firm that manufactures and sells spinet pianos and electric organs. But now his partner Maury is branching out into simulacra—android replicas of historical persons, designed by his daughter Pris. They’ve started with Edwin M. Stanton, President Lincoln’s Secretary of War. How? “. . . [W]e collected the entire body of data extant pertaining to Stanton and had it transcribed down at UCLA into instruction punch-tape to be fed to the ruling monad that serves the simulacrum as a brain.” Ohhh-kay.

More importantly, why? Because Maury thinks America is preoccupied, in this year of 1981, with the Civil War, and it will be good business to re-enact it with artificial people. Pris is now working on a Lincoln simulacrum.

by Michael Hinge

Staying over at Maury’s house, Louis meets Pris, recently released from the custody of the Federal Bureau of Mental Health, which provides free—and mandatory—treatment for people identified as mentally ill per the McHeston Act of 1975. Louis mentions that one in four Americans have served time in a Federal Mental Health Clinic. Pris was diagnosed as schizophrenic, and committed, in her third year of high school.

Louis asks her to stop her noisy activities because it’s late and he wants to go to sleep. She refuses, and says, “And don’t talk to me about going to bed or I’ll wreck your life. I’ll tell my father you propositioned me, and that’ll end Masa Associates and your career, and then you’ll wish you never saw an organ of any kind, electronic or not. So toddle on to bed, buddy, and be glad you don’t have worse troubles than not being able to sleep.” Louis thinks: “My god. . . . Beside her, the Stanton contraption is all warmth and friendliness.”

In a later encounter: “Why aren’t you married?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you a homosexual?”
“No!”
“Did some girl you fell in love with find you too ugly?”

In addition to this finely honed nastiness, Pris is also capable of considerable depression and self-pity. After the Lincoln is completed:
“Oh, Louis—it’s all over.”
“What’s all over?”
“It’s alive. I can never touch it again. Now what’ll I do? I have no further purpose in life.”
“Christ,” I said.
“My life is empty—I might as well be dead. All I’ve done and thought has been the Lincoln.”

Louis is shaken by these encounters. He sees a psychiatrist and gives a paranoid account of events to date, threatening to kill Pris. Further: “I was not kidding when I told you I’m one of Pris’ simulacra. There used to be a Louis Rosen, but no more. Now there’s only me. And if anything happens to me, Pris and Maury have the instructional tapes to create another.” Later he reiterates, in a conversation with the Stanton: “I claim there is no Edwin M. Stanton or Louis Rosen any more. There was once, but they’re dead. We’re machines.” The Stanton acknowledges, “There may be some truth in that.”

And if you’ve missed the point about humans and simulacra, here it is from the other direction. The Stanton says he would have liked to see the World’s Fair. Louis says: “That touched me to the heart. Again I reexperienced my first impression of it: that in many ways it was more human—god help us!—than we were, than Pris or Maury or even me, Louis Rosen. Only my father stood above it in dignity.”

The characters get involved with Sam Barrows, a rich guy who is the talk of the nation, in hopes of a profitable business relationship. Barrows is selling real estate on the Moon and other extraterrestrial locations. He sensibly trashes Maury’s idea of Civil War re-enactment, but his proposal is hardly an improvement; he wants to create simulacra of ordinary folks to go live in his off-planet housing developments and make them seem homier to potential buyers. (Sounds very practical, right?)

Pris then takes up with Barrows and begins calling herself Pristine Womankind. Meanwhile, Louis is getting progressively crazier, propelled by his obsession with Pris, and eventually winds up committed to the Federal Bureau of Mental Health—and is glad. There are a few more events and revelations I won’t spoil.

So, what follows from this prolonged but foreshortened precis?

First, this is not a very good SF novel, because it doesn’t follow through on its SFnal premises and also doesn’t make a lot of sense in general. It starts with the premise that historical replicas can be convincingly manufactured, and can exercise volition and easily adapt to a world a century in their future. OK, show me. But Dick doesn’t. We actually see relatively little of the Stanton and the Lincoln over the course of the novel. Further, we’re told that these artificial people are variations on models developed by the government. For what? And where are they and what are they doing? There’s no clue about the effects of this rather monumental development, other than allowing an obscure piano company to tinker with it.

The novel’s envisioned future doesn’t add up either. We’re told the setting is the USA in 1981, but there is routine space travel and colonization of the Moon and planets. More mind-boggling, there is the Federal Bureau of Mental Health—created by statute in 1975!—under which the entire population must take mental health tests administered in schools, and those deemed mentally ill are committed to a mental health clinic. As already noted, a fourth of the population has been committed at some point. And what political or cultural crisis or revolution has not only countenanced such an authoritarian regime, but also come up with the money for such a gigantic system of confinement?

Dick also seems to have made up his own system of psychiatry. Louis is diagnosed with a mental disorder requiring commitment through the James Benjamin Proverb Test. While interpretation of proverbs is sometimes used in psychiatric diagnosis, I can’t find any indication that this Benjamin Test exists anywhere besides Dick’s imagination.

Louis is asked to interpret “A rolling stone gathers no moss.”

“ ‘Well, it means a person who’s always active and never pauses to reflect—’ No, that didn’t sound right. I tried again. ‘That means a man who is always active and keeps growing in mental and moral statute won’t grow stale.’ He was looking at me more intently, so I added by way of clarification, ‘I mean, a man who’s active and doesn’t let grass grow under his feet, he’ll get ahead in life.’
“Doctor Nisea said, ‘I see.’ And I knew that I had revealed, for the purposes of legal diagnosis, a schizophrenic thinking disorder.’”

Turns out the correct answer—which Louis says he really knew—is “A person who’s unstable will never acquire anything of value.” But if any of the other interpretations of this deeply ambiguous platitude—or acknowledgement of its ambiguity—proves one a schizophrenic, I guess I’d better turn myself in. (Cue soundtrack: “They’re Coming to Take Me Away.”)

The doctor goes on to explain that Louis has the “Magna Mater type of schizophrenia”:

“ ‘The primary form which ‘phrenia takes is the heliocentric form, the sun-worship form where the sun is deified, is seen in fact as the patient’s father. You have not experienced that. The heliocentric form is the most primitive and fits with the earliest known religion, solar worship, including the great heliocentric cult of the Roman Period, Mithraism. Also the earlier Persian solar cult, the worship of Mazda.’
“ ‘Yes,’ I said, nodding.
“ ‘Now, the Magna Mater, the form you have, was the great female deity cult of the Mediterranean at the time of the Mycenaean Civilization. Ishtar, Cybele, Attis, then later Athene herself . . . finally the Virgin Mary. What has happened to you is that your anima, that is, the embodiment of your unconscious, its archetype, has been projected outward, unto the cosmos, and there it is perceived and worshipped.’
“ ‘I see,’ I said.”

Now, nowhere is it written that an SF writer can’t invent future psychiatry, any more than future physics or sociology, or alternative history. But plopping this scheme down in the America of 12 years hence, without support or explanation of how we got there from here, is incongruous and implausible. And the nominal date of 1981 is not the issue. The novel is firmly set in the familiar USA of today or close to it, with androids, spaceships, and psychiatry based on ancient religions in effect stuck on with tape and thumb tacks.

Of course, absurdity and incongruity are far from rare in PKD’s work, but they generally appear in the context of madcap satire or grim lampoon (consider Dr. Smile, the robot psychiatrist-in-briefcase in The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, whose function is not to cure, but to drive the protagonist crazy so he can evade the draft). But that’s not what’s going on here. This novel, though it has its witty moments, presents overall as thoroughly sober and serious, assisted by Louis’s flat first-person narration.

So, if it’s not good SF, is it good anything else? Editor White said in the last issue, “It’s more of a novel of character than any previous Philip K. Dick novel, and in writing and scene construction it approaches the so-called ‘mainstream’ novel.” Pris is an appallingly memorable character, both for her conduct and for her effect on others, and her part of dialogue is finely honed. A novel that closely examined her and her effect on those around her might be quite impressive. But in a novel that starts out with android historical figures and ends up in a national coercive mental health system, with spaceships and moon colonies along the way, there’s too much distraction for Pris and her relationships to be adequately developed.

The bottom line is that the author has mixed up elements of SF and the “mainstream” novel without developing either satisfactorily or adequately integrating them.

In the last chapter, the author makes a conspicuous effort to bring the novel’s disparate elements together, and winds things up in the most quintessentially Dickian fashion imaginable. In fact, it all seems a little too pat. But wait. Remember editor White’s cryptic statement in last issue’s editorial that this serial was not cut, but was “slightly revised and expanded” for its appearance here? There’s a rumor that this last chapter was not actually written by Dick, but was added by White. True? No doubt we’ll find out . . . someday.

A readable failure. Two stars.

Moon Trash, by Ross Rocklynne

Ross Rocklynne (birth name Ross Louis Rocklin) started publishing SF in 1935 and became very prolific in the 1940s, placing more than 10 stories most years through 1946, many in the field leader Astounding Science Fiction, but most in assorted pulps. After that his production fell off, he disappeared from Astounding, and ceased publishing entirely from 1954 to 1968, when he reappeared with a burst of stories in Galaxy. He was a heavyweight by production, but seemingly a lightweight by lasting impact. Only five of his stories were picked up in the explosion of SF anthologies of the late ‘40s and early ‘50s, and to date he has published no books.

by Ralph Reese

Moon Trash is a contrived piece about young Tommy, who lives on the Moon with his cranky old stepfather Ben Fountain; his mother seems to be dead though it’s not explicit. Tommy has bought the official ideology of keeping the Moon spick and span, and Ben gets annoyed when Tommy picks up things that Ben has dropped along the way. Then Tommy finds a bit of trash that somebody dropped about a million years ago, and it leads them to a cave full of artifacts of an alien civilization, including precious gems.

Ben’s not going to tell anybody and is going to see how he can make money from this find, but in his greed he pulls a heavy statue over and it kills him. Tommy reports that Ben fell down a crater wall, returns the artifact Ben had taken to the cave, tells no one about it, and resolves he’s going to work and become a big shot on the Moon. The obvious subtext of the title is that even on the Moon there will be people who are down and out or close to it—people like Ben are the Moon trash, though young Tommy is a class act. Three stars, barely.

Merry Xmas, Post/Gute, by John Jakes

John Jakes had been contributing to Amazing and other SF magazines, mostly downmarket, since 1950, to little notice or acclaim until he devised his Conan imitation Brak the Barbarian for Fantastic. In his very short Merry Xmas, Post/Gute, an impoverished author tries to get the last remaining book publisher to read his manuscript, only to be told it is closing its book division as unprofitable. It’s as heavy-handed as it is lightweight. Two stars.

Questor, by Howard L. Myers

Howard L. Myers—better known by his very SFnal pseudonym, Verge Foray—contributes Questor, a semi-competent piece of yard goods of the sort that filled the back pages of the 1950s’ SF magazines. Protagonist Morgan is part of a raid brigade attacking Earth, without benefit of spaceships, which are passe in this far future. He’s a Komenan; Earth is dominated by the Armans; it's not clear why we should care. Morgan is special; his assignment is to pretend to be a casualty and fall to Earth; but he’s hit by a “zerburst lance” and both he and his transportation equipment are injured. He lands in a Rocky Mountain snowbank and emerges, after some recuperation, to find himself in a valley he can’t climb out of.

by Jeff Jones

But all is not lost. A talking mountain goat, named Ezzy, appears (intelligence and fingers engineered by long-ago humans), and offers to help him out. We learn just what Morgan is looking for on Earth—it’s called the Grail! Or, the goat says, “it can be called cornucopia, or Aladdin’s Lamp—or perhaps Pandora’s Box. . . . The only certain information is that it has vast power, and has been around a long time.” Morgan later adds, “We only know it appears to assure the survival and success of whatever society has it in its possession.” Can we say pure MacGuffin? And of course there is a wholly predictable revelation at the end involving the goat. Two stars for egregious contrivance.

The People of the Arrow, by P. Schuyler Miller

by Leo Morey

This month’s “Famous Amazing Classic” is P. Schuyler Miller’s The People of the Arrow, from the July 1935 Amazing, and it does not impress. Kor, the leader of a migrating prehistoric tribe (having recently dispatched his elderly predecessor), returns with a hunting party to discover that their camp has been attacked by ape-men (he can tell by their footprints). They have wreaked terrible carnage and have carried off the women they did not kill. So the hunting party pursues the ape-men and wreaks terrible carnage on them with their superior armament (see the title). Miller does make a credible attempt to suggest the workings of Kor’s mind and his appreciation of the changing landscape he traverses, but it’s all pretty badly overwritten and mainly notable as a large bucket of blood. Miller—now best known as book reviewer for Analog and its predecessor Astounding—did much better work later. Two stars.

The Columbus Problem: II, by Greg Benford and David Book

Last issue’s “Science in Science Fiction” article asked how difficult it would be to locate planets in a star system from a spaceship traveling much slower than the speed of light. This issue, they ask how difficult it would be from a spaceship traveling much faster—say, a tenth of light-speed. (The authors say flatly: “To the scientific community, . . . FTL is nonsense.”) Then they take a quick turn for several pages of exposition about how an affordable and workable sub-light spaceship could be designed. The Goldilocks option, they suggest, is that proposed by one Robert Bussard: a ramscoop (magnetic, since it would need about a 40-mile radius) to collect all the loose gas and dust floating around in space and channel it into a fusion reactor.

Sounds great! Once you solve a few technical problems, that is. And then finding planets is a breeze. They’ll all be in the same plane, as in our solar system—it’s all in the angular momentum. Approach perpendicular to that plane, and Bob’s your uncle. Then a fly-by can reveal basics of habitability—gravity, temperature, what’s in the atmosphere—but looking for existing life and habitability for terrestrials will require landing, preferably by remote probes of several degrees of capability.

This one is denser than its predecessor, but as before, clear, clearly well-informed, and aimed at the core interests of, probably, most SF readers. Four stars.

Summing Up

So, assuming one agrees with me about the serial, there’s not much of a showing here for this resurrected magazine, though it’s far too early to be making any broad judgments. Promised for next issue are (the good news) a serial by editor White, who has demonstrated his capabilities as a writer, and (the bad news) a story by Christopher Anvil! No doubt a Campbell reject. Let’s hope the promising overcomes the ominous.

[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…]

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 2, 1969] Communication Breakdown (January 1970 IF)

December 2, 2024 David Levinson 3 Comments

[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]

by David Levinson

Free press

American readers and those who follow American politics are no doubt well aware of President Nixon’s speech on the “Vietnamization” of the war in Indo-China. All three national networks carried the speech, of course, and followed it up with analysis and commentary. This apparently didn’t sit well with the White House.

On November 13th, Vice President Spiro Agnew addressed a regional Republican committee in Des Moines, Iowa, in which he attacked the networks, accusing them of political bias in their news coverage. He complained that the president’s speech had been subjected to “instant analysis and querulous criticism” without giving the American people time to digest the speech for themselves. Agnew accused “a small and unelected elite” of exerting undue influence on public opinion without any check on their power. He even called it a form of censorship.

Vice President Spiro Agnew addressing the Midwest Regional Republican Committee.

Some television executives accused Agnew of attempting to undermine the freedom of the press and intimidate a form of journalism that requires a government license in order to broadcast. I’d say the intimidation was at least partly successful, since all three networks carried the Vice President's speech. However, the networks are also fighting back. The CBS news magazine 60 Minutes devoted a full hour to rebutting Agnew’s charges.

When asked if anyone in the administration had an advance look at the speech, White House press secretary Ron Ziegler denied it. He also said that the White House would have no reaction to statements by other members of the administration and that Nixon and Agnew had not discussed the speech. That’s nonsense. A speech like this would never be made without approval at the highest levels, and if it had been, the White House would have promptly issued a statement distancing Nixon from the remarks or at least trying to soften them. I’d say the administration has fired a shot across the bows of the news media.

White House Press Secretary Ron Ziegler

Seeking common ground

Carrying on the love theme from last month, this month’s IF offers us two romances. But the real focus is on learning to communicate, especially without a common point of reference. It also gives us two sequels to stories from several years ago.

Suggested by “This One”. Art by Gaughan.

Diary Found in the St. Louis Zoo, by Robert Bloch

Bob Bloch gives us his report on the Worldcon, held in St. Louis this year. It’s his typical mix of name-dropping and bad jokes. I generally enjoy Bloch’s fiction (I met him once, and he was very nice), but his humor is just awful. Unlike the delightful and funny drawings by Jack Gaughan that accompany this article. If you want to know what really happened in St. Louis, read the Traveler’s con report. It was timelier and much more informative.

Barely three stars.

A photorealistic portrait of Harlan Ellison. Art by Gaughan

Whipping Star (Part 1 of 4), by Frank Herbert

The ConSentiency is an interstellar society composed of several intelligent species. Among them are the Caleban, a strange people who seem to be only partially in this dimension. Only 84 of them have ever been seen, but they are very important, because they gave the ConSentiency jumpdoors, which allow people to travel vast distances. Now, 83 Caleban have vanished, leaving millions dead in the disappearance of each one.

Enter Jorj X. McKie, Saboteur Extraordinaire (the Bureau of Sabotage keeps government from becoming too efficient, so that nothing happens without due deliberation). He makes contact with the last Caleban, who calls herself Fanny Mae, and learns that she has entered a contractual relationship with the wealthy and sadistic Mliss Abnethe. In an attempt to treat her sadism, Mliss was conditioned so that she cannot stand to see another sentient suffer, but Calebans can barely be perceived and do not outwardly show suffering.

The problem here is that the flagellations are killing Fanny Mae, and if she undergoes “ultimate discontinuity,” every being that has ever used a jumpdoor—which is almost everyone—will die. To complicate matters, the BuSab is not allowed to interfere with private individuals, which seriously limits Jorj’s options. To complicate things even further, Fanny Mae declares that she has fallen in love with Jorj. To be continued.

Some Gaughan-esque abstractions. Art by Gaughan

We’ve seen McKie and the BuSab before, in the story “The Tactful Saboteur,” which the Traveler gave a mere one star. This installment is better than that, though it’s mostly just Herbert setting the scene. It can be difficult reading at times, thanks to Fanny Mae’s odd speech patterns and the difficulties she and Jorj have finding common referents to understand each other, but that appears to be the point of the story.

Three stars for now, mostly because of the interesting philosophical questions about language and understanding.

By the Falls, by Harry Harrison

Harry Harrison has written a J.G. Ballard story. There is an unexplained natural phenomenon—in this case a waterfall that makes Niagara look like a faucet with a slow leak—and a bunch of suggestive, but not obvious symbolism that is never clarified. Line by line, the writing is fine; I might have liked it if I had any idea what Harrison was trying to say.

Two stars.

By the falls, like it says on the tin. Art by Gaughan

If a Man Answers, by Richard Wilson

Doctoral candidate Walter Hurd takes a job in remote western New York, hoping to finish his dissertation. For an hour a day he beams messages into space, and for another hour he monitors reception. The isolation soon gets to him, and along with the mathematical formulas he starts sending poetry and, eventually, thoughts from his own journal. When he starts receiving a female voice sending out her thoughts, he quickly falls in love.

More abstracts. Art by Gaughan

Here’s our first love story. Parts of it are rather silly, especially the reason Walter’s Star Girl speaks English, but it doesn’t ignore things like the speed of light. It’s a bit long and highly improbable, however there is some nice writing.

A low three stars.

Child’s Play, by Larry Eisenberg

The deeply annoying Emmett Duckworth returns. This time, the implausible chemist has figured out how to create life, including a six foot tall rabbit. I do not like these stories. I’d sooner read the most formulaic of Retief stories or a full novel of Paul Atreides contemplating the grains of sand in his navel. That said, this is the least stupid story of the series. It almost makes sense, and is just readable.

A generous just barely three stars.

Aunt Sam? Art by Gaughan

This One, by James Sallis

A human linguist falls in love with an alien woman. They’re torn apart, and he must search the galaxy to find her again.

I keep trying to see more than one face here, but it doesn’t work. Art probably by Gaughan

Our second love story was highly touted last month. Call me hard-hearted and unromantic, but I hated it. It’s overwrought and melodramatic. With very few changes, it could be a Victorian tale of a man searching the seraglios of the Near East for his lost love.

A low two stars.

O Kind Master, by Daniel F. Galouye

Centuries ago, spherical energy beings conquered the Earth. Now, humans are pampered pets. A group of wild humans have a plan to destroy the Spheres, but they need to know if the tame humans can handle the loss of their masters.

A wild human dwelling with a city of the Spheres in the background. Art probably by Gaughan

This is a sequel of sorts to “The City of Force” from 1959. The Traveler thought that one was solid, but not outstanding (no star ratings in those days). I say this story is only a sequel of sorts, because in the earlier tale, humans were pests, not pets. That story also left humans with powers equal to the Spheres.

It’s all horribly old-fashioned, even by the standards of 1959. Add in a solution to beating the Spheres that should have been found back during the initial invasion and my general vague dislike of Galouye’s work, and I didn’t like this one.

Two stars.

The Story of Our Earth: The Coming of the Dinosaurs, by Willy Ley

Ley’s survey has reached the Triassic and the first dinosaurs. He starts off with a discussion of the importance of jaws in paleontology, and then runs through both early dinosaurs and the mammals of the period, as well as some marine creatures. Interesting, but a bit perfunctory.

Three stars.

Summing up

Maybe the worst issue that editor Ejler Jakobsson has overseen. Some of that may just be me being curmudgeonly. There’s also a lot that isn’t here. We’re told that there’s no letter column due to the length of Bloch’s con report. That may also be why there’s no preview for next month and why Lester del Rey’s book review column is barely more than a page, with little of the depth he usually has. There’s also no new author this month. I’ve liked Jakobsson’s work so far, so hopefully this is just an aberration. Fingers crossed for next month.

In lieu of a preview, have a fanigator. Art by Gaughan

[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 30, 1969] Capstone to a decade (December 1969 Analog)

November 30, 2024 Gideon Marcus 10 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Atrocities in Vietnam

The news has been brewing for a while, and now it's on the front page: 1st Lieutenant William J. Calley Jr., a 26-year-old platoon leader stationed in Vietnam, has been "life or death" court martialed for the murder of 109 South Vietnamese civilians "of various ages and sexes."

This so-called "My Lai incident" took place northeast of Quang Ngai city on March 16, 1968 in a village called Song My—code-named "Pinkville". Calley, enraged at the death of his chief sergeant, appears to have ordered his unit to eliminate everyone in the hamlet. Several of his men went on a bloody spree; others did what they could to avoid involvement. One even shot himself in the foot so he could be medivaced out. A number came forward with the story, which was investigated and then dismissed by the 11th Infrantry Brigade. Letters to Congress have prompted the reopening of the case and investigation into the original investigation.

If Calley is convicted, he faces no less than life imprisonment, and death by firing squad is on the table.

The court martial comes on the heels of the July 21, 1969 charge of Green Beret commander, Col. Robert Rheault, and six of his officers with murder and conspiracy for the secret execution of a Vietnamese spy suspect. Those charges were dropped two months later when the CIA, whose operatives were key witnesses, refused to cooperate. Whether the government's tacit support of brutality increases or decreases the odds of Calley facing the music remains to be seen.

Mediocrities in Print

by Kelly Freas

December's final magazine is Analog. Let's hope this makes for pleasanter reading that the newspapers.

Turning first to the book review column, and skipping the editorial (for those who want recapitulations of Campbell's latest blatherings, go buy the collected volumes that have recently come out), P. Schuyler Miller offers up some nice coverage of translated Perry Rhodan books from West Germany. He goes on to cover a Silverberg collection of antediluvian tales called The Calibrated Alligator. They were written back when Silverbob was writing 50,000 words a week and rapidly killing himself. The quality of his work was moderate; he devoted most of his energies to the kinds of books once sold below the counter, but which are now on brazen display in New York newstands.

Miller liked Timescoop, though he thought it lesser Brunner (but not least Brunner). Pretty much what Jason said when he wrote about it. He also thought much of Isle of the Dead, by Roger Zelazny, as did Victoria Silverwolf early this year. Finally, before dispatching a bunch of reprints, he gives middlin' praise to Mack Raynolds' Time Gladiator, which is really just the serial Sweet Dreams, Sweet Princes, a People's Capitalism story so old, it still has Joe Mauser in it! I liked the story, but I find Reynolds' near-future predictions fascinating, even if his writing is often just workmanlike.

This, by the way, is why I like Schuyler so much—he agrees with us! (And he doesn't play favorites; coming out first in Analog doesn't automatically increase the score).

In Our Hands, the Stars (Part 1 of 3), by Harry Harrison

by Kelly Freas

That dopey looking sub-ship on the cover and as the headline illustration is, in fact, a submarine turned into a spaceship. How did it happen?

Arnie Klein is an Israeli researcher who develops…something. So explosive is this secret (literally—the story begins with his invention blowing up his laboratory) that he flees to Denmark, seeks asylum, and enlists the aid of his friend, Nobel Prize winner Ove Rasmussen. The two work together to build a woking model of the contraption, and then install it in a submarine.

Pretty early on, it's obvious what the thing will do: generate antigravity.

All of this takes us to about Page 40 of the serial, and none of those pages are necessary. The information conveyed in those dry ~10,000 words of text could easily have been woven into an in media res beginning—and Harrison is fully up to the task. That he padded things out so much, with uninteresting characters and inconsequential events, suggests he's in it for the per-word rates.

Anyway, after the Blæksprutten is commissioned, a trio of Soviet cosmonauts find themselves marooned on the Moon with a limited oxygen supply. Klein and Co. take their ship up to Luna and rescue them. Meanwhile, down on Earth, there's some Cold War spy machinations of limited interest.

Harrison can do much better. This is like cut-rate Mack Reynolds, really. Anyway, 3 stars, I guess, but if it's all like this, we're going to end up in the 2.5 zone.

Is Biological Aging Inevitable?, by Capt. John E. Wrobel, Jr.

This is an interesting piece on what we think causes mortality (lots of options), what's being done about it (not that much, surprisingly), the effects of immortality on society (only positive ones listed), and the mythological underpinnings of mortality acceptance (quite interesting).

I found the article quite graspable, and the use of chapter divisions greatly improved readability. Let's hope this becomes a feature for future nonfiction pieces.

Four stars.

Mindwipe, by Tak Hallus

by Vincent DiFate

"Tak Hallus" returns for his sophomore tale (his first, also appeared in Analog.) In this one, space-hand Ernest Schwab is on trial for a heinous crime: blanking the mind of the Terran governor of the planet Paria. It turns out Schwab is one of the very few telepaths known to humanity—even he didn't know he had this power. Now it is up to Public Defender Benson to prove that he was manipulated into action by another telepath rather than acting of his own volition. Doing so will take Benson on an adventure, from the courtrooms of Earth to the tunnels of the burrowing indigenes of Paria…and place a bullseye on his own head for meddling!

This is a pretty neat piece. It suffers for being rather workmanlike in execution, as if it were a little rushed, and I found the society of the future a bit too similar to that of the present (particularly the role of women). Nevertheless, it captures interest and offers up a decent mystery as well as, in the process, presenting an interesting alien race.

Three stars.

Testing … One, Two, Three, Four, by Steve Chapman

by Leo Summers

A bird colonel, stuck in service to an electronic brain, is given the task of overseeing a trio of servicemen who are undergoing computerized tests qualifying them for extraterrestrial deployment. What he doesn't realize (but what is obvious fairly early on) is that this assignment is, in fact, a test of his capabilities.

Not bad. The sort of thing Chris Anvil might have come up with.

Three stars.

Superiority Complex, by Thomas N. Scortia

by Leo Summers

Things fall off a cliff for these last two vignettes, probably accepted more for their useful length than quality. This one takes us to a time several generations after The Bomb wiped out half of humanity. Researchers are trying to revitalize the race through eugenics, specifically tracking down the descendants of "Phil Jason", an exceptional man who wrote screenplays in old Hollywood until he blew his own brains out. If society could manufacture more of his type, then perhaps it could be rejuvenated.

Turns out that "Phil" was really "Phyllis", and the spirit of her genius lives on throughout the human race…explaining why women always seem to rule from the shadows, preferring the power behind the throne rather than the throne itself (this is the story's contention, not mine).

A dumb, sexist piece. One star.

Any Number Can Play, by Richard Lippa

by Vincent DiFate

A meteorologist man-and-wife team investigate anomolaus weather off the coast of Florida and find the wreck of an enemy warship that had been creating the storm. Portentous intonations of "could this be happening globally?"

Weather control is all the rage these days, in fiction and nonfiction. Personally I can't buy that all the silver iodide crystals and laser beams will have half the effect that, say, a century of industrial society is having on the Earth. But I also take issue with attibuting harmful weather to malevolent foreign entities. That road leads to Silly Science. We had enough of that with folks like Lysenko. What's next? Railing against vaccinations?

One star.

End of the line

And so ends the last magazine of the calendar year—not with a bang, but with a 2.7 star whimper. This puts it above Vision of Tomorrow (2.8), Fantastic (2.1), and the shockingly bad New Worlds (1.9), but well below Galaxy (3.1), If (3.2), Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4), and The New S.F. (3.6)

Now that all the magazines are done, I can give you a sneak preview of what the Galactic Stars will look like. Here are all of the mags/anthologies in order of average:

New Writings 3.679824561
Fantasy and Science Fiction 3.102574451
IF 3.070572755
New Worlds 3.030241097
Galaxy 3.005917367
Vision of Tomorrow 2.921091331
Venture 2.824404762
Analog 2.688902006
Fantastic 2.645528083
Amazing 2.622086594
Orbit 2.571428571
Famous 1.897435897

As you can see, Analog finished pretty close to the bottom, barely acing out the Ted White mags (which are on their way up). Campbell's going to have to do better than this if he wants to keep his ~170,000 readers, I imagine.

In other statistics, women wrote just 3% of the new fiction this month, and the four and five star pieces would fill three small digests (out of the eight published). Not an auspicious way to end the decade, but perhaps the '70s will offer up a New New Wave.

See you on the other side!

[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 20, 1969] You say you want a revolution… (December 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

November 20, 2024 Gideon Marcus 4 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

When you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out

250,000 miles from Earth, the astronauts of Apollo 12 are circling the Moon, photographing Earth's neighbor for future landing sites before coming home. And in the nation's capital, the city is still reeling from the footsteps of 250,000 protesters who marched on Washington in the largest anti-war event in American history.

This second "Vietnam Moratorium Day" followed on the heels of last month's nationwide protests, to which President Nixon responded with apathy and his November 4th speech, in which he touted his secret timetable for "Vietnamesation"—the turning over of defense of South Vietnam to President Thieu's government, and also played up his support from "The Silent Majority" of Americans.

The protest movements have still fallen short of the planned nationwide strike, and this latest one has been eclipsed by the Moon landings. Nevertheless, they are making waves. In addition to the quarter million in Washington D.C., 100,000 marched in San Francisco in the West Coast's largest peace demonstration in history.

That demonstration was, in fact, peaceful. Not so the march on Washington, where extremists, protesting the trial of Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, and six "Yippies" for allegedly inspiring the Chicago Democratic Convention riots last year, clashed with police and were driven back by tear gas.

There is no word, as yet, if there will be a third Moratorium march in time for the Holidays, but one can probably expect more such outbursts from the Unsilent Minority so long as there is no end in sight to the Vietnam War, which has claimed the lives of more than 40,000 Americans so far.

The say that it's the institution

Last year, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction won the Hugo for Best Science Fiction Magazine. It was a bit of a surprise since 1968 was hardly one of the magazine's best years—but then, 1968 wasn't a consistently great year for any magazine. However, if one were to judge F&SF's 1969 output solely on the basis of this month's issue, one's estimation of the magazine would, indeed, be justifiably high! Read on with pleasure:

by Ed Emshwiller

Bye, Bye, Banana Bird, by Sonya Dorman

In the not too far future, the Earth is under a world government, humanity has a few extraterrestrial colonies, and the Planetary Patrol, thoroughly integrated by race and sex, keeps the peace both at home and among the stars.

This is the tale of Roxy Rimidon, a young "Pippa" recruit who goes through a rigorous Basic Training before receiving her first assignment: to the Dominion of Cuba to investigate the sabotage of banana shipments to the agricultural colony of Vogl.

It's light, interesting, suspenseful, and (refreshingly) from the female perspective—sort of Heinlein's Starship Troopers meets Pauline Ashwell's Lysistrata Lee stories. What's not to like?

The only thing dragging this tale down is its lack of balance. Half the story is boot camp, and the other half is the assignment. On the other hand, if this novelette is merely setup for a clutch of Rimidon stories, then all is forgiven.

Four stars.

Hunting, by Robin Carson

Norman Hart is a deer hunter who, despite years of trying, has yet to bag a single buck. This time, with the help of a grizzled huntsman, and a little magic, he just might get what he's after.

Even if it's not what he intended…

There are a lot of Twilight Zone-y ways this amiable piece could have ended, and I had to ruminate for a while to decide if I liked the one Carson chose. Ultimately, I did.

Four stars.

by Gahan Wilson

The Adventure of the Martian Client , by Manly Wade Wellman and Wade Welman

What if Arthur Conan Doyle's twin titans, Sherlock Holmes and Professor Challenger, worked together? And what if the case they were on took place during the Martian conquest as depicted by H. G. Wells?

The result might be something like this, the first collaboration between SF veteran Manly Wade Wellman and his son. The tone is right; the ending is a touch anti-climactic.

Three stars.

The Falcon and the Falconeer, by Barry N. Malzberg

A Christmas story: a bunch of naval personnel on the backwater Rigel XIV decide to hold a nativity pageant among the natives. It was a natural fit, what with the indigenes all looking like, and having much the mental attitude, of terrestrial donkeys. But between the aliens' telepathic abilities and the religious inclinations of the crewman chosen to play the Infant, an unintended miracle occurs.

'Tis the season, indeed! A fun, nicely laid out piece, with properly rising tension and multiple viewpoints…but ultimately trivial and forgettable.

Three stars.

Lord of Sensation, by Leonard Tushnet

"Joe Roland was a modest man. He disclaimed any great genius as the cause of his phenomenal success…but a genius he nevertheless was, if a genius is one who builds the germ of an idea into an overwhelming craze."

The secret to M.I.T. graduate Roland's success? Capitalizing on the augmentation of the senses. First, he electronically enhances the sound of The Murderers, a second-rate rock band, to leave club-goers in ecstacy. But the extra vibrations cause long-term hearing and psychological damage, so Roland turns, one by one, to the other four senses, with both increasing victories and correspondingly deeper consequences.

A fun cautionary tale on the importance of doing research before experimenting directly on humans.

Three stars.

The Luxon Wall, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor offers up a fascinating discussion on tachyons, those hypothetical particles that only travel faster than light, and what that hyperluminal universe they inhabit might be like.

Dig it. Four stars.

Formula for a Special Baby, by Julian F. Grow

Dr. Hiram Pertwee, late of Vermont, now somewhere out West, has yet another run-in with an extraterrestrial. This one arrives on a flying teacup speaking German, dressed in lederhosen, and accompanied by a voluptuous cat-woman. His mission is to go to Bavaria and whisper a strange incantation to a baby there. Pertwee is shanghaied to be his guide.

Aside from being the first in the now four-part series of stories to reveal the exact year in which they occur (1879), the most that can be said for "Baby" is that it is another Pertwee tale.

Which isn't bad. They're fun, if not literature for the ages. Three stars.

We are doing what we can

What a pleasant issue that was! Not a clunker in the bunch, and some fine reading besides. Keep it up, Fermans père et fils, and you might just take another golden rocketship home again next Worldcon!

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Fashion, music, politics, sports, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 14, 1969] To Experiment or Not To Experiment, That is the Question. (The New S. F. & Vision of Tomorrow #2)

November 14, 2024 Kris Vyas-Myall Leave a comment

By Mx Kris Vyas-Myall

Among musicians right now, there seems to be a split around whether to look towards an experimental future or an idealized past for their inspiration.

Both in pop music and SF, nudity and sex remain sources of controversy.

The most explicit examples of Futurism come from two recent singles, Zager and Evans’ In the Year 2525 and David Bowie’s Space Oddity. But there is also the debut album from King Crimson, featuring the song 21st Century Schizoid Man, The Moody Blues’ space inspired LP, and Pink Floyd performed a new piece recently in honour of the Moon Landing. In addition, the music industry is pushing what is acceptable sexually whether that be in artwork, such as the Blind Faith cover above, or interesting choices of sounds on pop songs.

Did the Kinks have a point about preserving village greens?

On the other hand, at this time last month 4 of the top 5 singles were all country influenced songs, from Bobbie Gentry, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan. Now, there has always been some country influence in the charts (as shown by Jim Reeves having 7 posthumous top 20 singles and counting) but it is certainly reaching a new level when the Beach Boys and Rolling Stones are both trying it out. In addition, folk is also growing, often with a nostalgic edge, in such songs as Fairport Convention’s Who Knows Where the Time Goes or Donovan’s Atlantis.

These differences can also be seen in SF and, perhaps, there is no clearer division than that which can be observed between the two publications I am reviewing today.

The New S.F., ed. by Langdon Jones

Cover by Colin Mier

An introduction by Michael Moorcock

Who else would you choose but Moorcock to introduce this selection of New Wave authors? Here he talks about how the “new SF writers” or “New Worlds group” have moved beyond spaceships and monsters to do more person-centric poetic pieces.

Fourteen Stations on the Northern Line by Giles Gordon

Fourteen different men observe an unnamed woman to different degrees of lechery as she walks up a hill. She fails to notice them as she has other things on her mind.

If it was not in this collection, it would probably not be considered SF, more akin to a Joyce than a Gernsback, only approaching the latter with the surrealism of the mind.

Moorcock’s introduction notes this as an example of a “compacted novel”, one that could be extended to a traditional novel but that would blunt the impact significantly. I cannot determine if I wanted this to be longer, shorter or reworked, but something is amiss. The metaphor, though obvious, is a good one (what passenger on a train pays attention to the small commuter stations?) and the difference in the inner lives of the observer and observed make a solid basis. But it left me wanting something better from it.

Three Stars

The Peking Junction by Michael Moorcock

A Jerry Cornelius story from his creator. In this episode, Europe has been devastated by American bombs (of course Europe still supports their allies in this action) and our dandified spy goes to China to deal with a downed American plane. His mission is complicated by the fact that he falls in love with one of the Chinese generals.

One interesting element here is Moorcock explicitly calls out the connection between Cornelius and his other tales:

Having been Elric, Asquiol, Minos, Aquilinus, Clovis Marca, now and forever he was Jerry Cornelius of the noble price, proud prince of ruins, boss of the circuits. Faustaff, Muldoon, the eternal champion…

There was always a suggestion of this previously, and The Blood Red Game (Science Fiction Adventures, 1963) and A Cure for Cancer both feature multiple universes, but I believe this is the first time we get it confirmed that this is not simply a case of repeated motifs.

Looking at it in this manner, we see the biting contemporary satire evolving into a more epic struggle and Moorcock’s other heroes as more than just throwaway fantasy figures. Rather there is a degree of tragedy in them having to deal with these various forces of order and chaos, making horrific choices for, what they hope, is the greater good (which rarely ends well).

A High Four Stars

Fast Car Wash by George MacBeth

A car gets cleaned… that is the entire story.

Moorcock calls this a readymade poem. I am assuming forthcoming are also a transcription of microwave instructions and George MacBeth’s shopping list.

One star

The Anxiety in the Eyes of the Cricket by James Sallis

Another Jerry Cornelius story, who is seemingly becoming to the New Wave what the Cthulhu tales have become to SF horror. This vignette apparently takes place shortly after the end of The Peking Junction (although Moorcock indicates this is better read as an alternative version) as JC returns to England a broken man. He stays in the house of his friend Michael, a man who predicted the apocalyptic future. They spend their time drinking and having sex between watching devastation from their window and discussing the nature of guilt.

A much quieter tale and more introspective than the other Cornelius tales with a good dose of metafiction (if Michael is not surnamed Moorcock, I will eat my hat) added in. It is also incredibly bleak, with cities burning, Britain used as America’s crematorium, and Cornelius a broken man now simply looking for his missing family. But it is all the more powerful for it.

Five Stars

The New Science Fiction: A Conversation between J. G. Ballard & George MacBeth

This is the transcription of part of a discussion on BBC Radio 3 (formerly the Third Programme) last year titled The New Surrealism. In this extract, J. G. Ballard explains why he moved away from linear storytelling.

I missed this on its broadcast and I am very pleased it was reproduced here. Ballard manages to explain eloquently what he is trying to achieve in his stories and it has given me an increased appreciation for his work. Two sections I want to call out here as particularly incisive:

…one has many layers, many levels of experience going on at the same time. On one level might be the world of public events, Cape Kennedy, Vietnam, political life, on another level the immediate personal environment, the rooms we occupy, the postures we assume. On a third level, the inner world of the mind. All these levels are, as far as I can see them, equally fictional, and it is where these levels interact that one gets the only kind of inner reality that in fact exists nowadays.

…Burroughs’s narrative techniques… [are] an immediately recognisable reflection of the way life is actually experienced, that we live in quantified non-linear terms – we switch on television sets, switch them off half an hour later, speak on the telephone, read magazines, dream, and so forth. We don’t live our lives in linear terms in the sense that Victorians did.

Recommended for fans and confused readers alike.

Five Stars

So Far from Prague by Brian W. Aldiss

Another of Aldiss’ tales of Europeans in India. This time Slansky, a Czech filmmaker, is staying in a Das’ hotel outside Delhi when he hears of the Soviet invasion, He wants to get back home to help resist the attack, Das thinks they should be concentrating on their joint film project on the nature of time. Things get even more complicated when Slansky discovers there is a Russian guest in the room below his.

Interestingly, this manages a similar feel to Sallis’ piece even though it is contemporary rather than apocalyptic and could only be considered SFnal in the broadest sense. Here it is an exploration of the age-old argument of whether art can or should be apolitical, with this sense of gloom and despair. An important reminder that worlds are being blown up outside our window, not just in our magazines.

Four Stars

Direction by Charles Platt

An unnamed man has an argument at home. In response he gets drunk in a pub and then wanders around London in an inebriated haze.

Another piece where I am not sure the point of it, nor what it is doing in an SF anthology. There are some interesting writing techniques but that is all I can see to recommend it.

A low two stars

Postatomic by Michael Butterworth

We are told of four impossible beings, who may or may not be the same character across different time periods.

Not sure what its purpose is but it is certainly evocative.

Three Stars

For Thomas Tompion by Michael Moorcock

Moorcock completes his trilogy of entries with a four-line poem, addressed to the father of English clock-making.

Simple but well done for what it is.

Three stars

A Science Fiction Story for Joni Mitchell by Maxim Jakubowski

A science fiction writer has grown dissatisfied with the genre; instead he wants to write neo-psychedelic pop songs and tales of drug journeys. However, he has a deadline to hit, and the adventures of Coit Kid vs. the Subliminal Police don’t write themselves. Anyway, there is no chance of his other ideas intruding on a good old-fashioned science fiction story, is there?

A hilarious take on writing, modern pop music and science fiction cliches. It is done in a series of cut up pieces but logical rather than disparate. The whole exercise is delicious and I am going to be remembering many of the lines for some time.

Five Stars

The Communicants by John Sladek

This novella is a fragmented narrative, telling of a disparate set of people who work at Drum Inc., a technology company which provides a wide variety of services over phone lines and dreams of superseding Bell as the national monopoly.

Members of this organisation include Marilyn, who keeps getting mysterious calls that simply say “Marilyn, he loves you”, Sam Kravon, who is being driven mad by his job in Estimates, Phil Wang, the Art Director who is sure people are questioning his loyalty to the US, Ray, a cripple who is being constantly shuffled between departments, and David, who believes reality is refrangible.

At the same time, there are hints of experiments going on within the company that are of interest to the CIA.

Partially this is an extension of his multiple-choice form tales from New Worlds, with these regularly interrupting the text. And partially this is an experiment of split narratives, with the narrative like a butterfly flitting between different stories with such regularity that I wondered if I could use a flow chart.

Whilst it is an interesting experiment, it goes on for far too long (at almost 70 pages, far longer than anything else in this collection) and the whole is less than the sum of its parts.

Three Stars

Seeking a Suitable Donor by D. M. Thomas

An organ donor before their surgery contemplates his journey to this point.

The strange alignment of the text doesn’t add much to this tale of familiar themes but a perfectly reasonable example.

Three Stars

The Holland of the Mind by Pamela Zoline

Graham, Jessica and their child Rachel take a holiday from the US to Amsterdam in 1963. However, visiting the Venice of the North is not going to help them outrun their problems.

This is a tricky one to review. On the one hand it is beautifully written but shocking look at depression and the breakdown of a marriage, counterpointing the history of the Netherlands with their personal situation.

On the other, it is barely SFnal. There is one moment towards the end which could be taken as such. But it could also be taken as metaphorical and\or natural phenomena. As such I was partially disappointed. It reminded me somewhat of Morris’ travelogue Venice.

However, I adore Morris’ writing. As such I am happy to give it the benefit of the doubt and judge it as a piece of literary short fiction. On those grounds it is brilliant.

Five Stars

Quincunx by Thomas M. Disch

As the name suggests, this is made up of five vignettes:

• Chrysanthemums: Mr. Candolle ponders the meaning of chrysanthemums in hospital rooms
• Representation: The narrator speaks of his lost love Judith
• The Death of Lurleen Wallace: A circular tale of princes, presidential campaigns and books
• Mate: A letter from former lovers which also deals with a correspondence chess match
• The Assumption: Miss Lockesly teaches her class about death

I am not sure though what shape we are meant to form. To some extent they are all about endings in different ways but no consensus is reached nor are they particularly profound.

Two Stars

Thus ends this experiment of a book, one which I have rated all over the place. To change a famous quote, there is a thin line between genius and drivel. This anthology erases it.

Vision of Tomorrow #2

Cover Illustration: Gerard Alfo Quinn

Issue #2 has finally arrived. No explanation is given for the delay other than “circumstances beyond our control”. Whatever the reason, we shall now dive into the contents:

Quarry by E. C. Tubb

Illustrated by Gerard Alfo Quinn

Quelto Daruti is a prisoner of the Federation. he decides to make use of an obscure law. The Quarry-Hunt. He is to be hunted across the harsh landscape of Zen to sanctuary. If he can make it alive, he will be pardoned, but the only person who ever managed it before died of their wounds soon afterwards.

Durati however has two advantages the authorities do not know about. Firstly, he is a telepath. Secondly, the Terran league are very interested in his survival

Yes, it is yet another spin on The Most Dangerous Game, but a pretty good one. Stylistically it can be heavy at times, but this is made up for when it is action packed.

Just sneaks in at four stars.

Strictly Legal by Douglas Fulthorpe

Illustrated by James

The intelligent spider-creatures of Proxima Centauri claim ownership of Earth’s Moon, on the grounds that it detached from one of their planets when it was molten. At first everyone assumes this is a joke. However, it turns out they are in deadly earnest, and the legal implications of the case will have devastating consequences.

This is a slippery slope argument delivered with all the subtlety of a brick through a window. The style is readable enough, but it requires so many “what-ifs” to make the idea work, I am not surprised everyone inside this piece of fiction assumes it is all a joke.

Two Stars

Moonchip by John Rankine

Millenia ago a small piece of metal fell to Earth. It has now been mined and ended up part of a car, one that is involved in a strangely high number of fatal accidents. But that is just coincidence, right?

I found this to be a dull and violent tale with little purpose. Maybe if you enjoy hoary old horror stories or car-based fiction it will appeal to you, but not to me.

One Star

A Judge of Men by Michael G. Coney

Illustrated by Eddie Jones

Scott travels with the trader Bancroft to the planet Karumba, the only source of Shroom (a kind of puff ball that can be woven) in the galaxy. The Shroom harvest is lessening as the planet gets colder and Karumbans may face extinction. However, having seen how humans treat animals in zoos, they refuse to allow any scientific help from humanity. Bancroft is willing to respect the Kamburans' wishes, the young ambitious Scott, however, is determined to solve the mysteries of this world, no matter what anyone else may think.

This did not go in the direction I expected. This started out seeming like it was merely going to be an experiment in xenobiology and the effects of planetary tilt but it went into much deeper territory around what it means to be a person, respect for native belief systems and the responsibility of ethical science.

My only complaint is it was too short to address all of the areas it touched on properly. I would love to see it expanded into one-half of an Ace Double.

A high four stars

Frozen Assets by Dan Morgan

Larry is a used air-car salesman who, with his fiancée Olivia is determined to find a way to get rich quick according to their realist philosophy. The first scheme involves being married to a wealthy divorcee but it turns out the pre-nuptial agreement states that Olivia won’t get any money from accidental death until after five years.

Larry then discovers there is a cure for cirrhosis of the liver, a condition his rich uncle Frank was cryogenically frozen with. He hopes to revive Frank and take control of his estate, however Frank is not quite as witless as Larry supposes.

This is the kind of story I dislike. It requires the setting up of a series of silly rules people follow, explaining them as they go along. In addition, it wends all over the place, barely sticking in one place for more than a moment.

One star

The Impatient Dreamers 2: Aims and Objects by Walter Gillings

Filling in the gap between installments 1 and 3, we learn of Gillings' efforts to show that there is a strong enough market for science fiction in Britain to support a magazine.

This series continues to be excellent and contains a lot of fascinating details. Such as that Britain at this time didn’t have specialist fiction magazines at all and that Len Kippin just would hand out leaflets wherever he saw SF on sale.

Five Stars

Echo by William F. Temple

Illustrated by B. M. Finch

The Saurian Venusians have taken over the body of Richard Gaunt by use of a temporary echo of the personality of Narvel. They intend to steal the secrets of Organic Materials Inc., however, it turns out that being a human is harder than it seems.

I actually covered this last year in Famous, and I was planning to just reprint my review from there. However, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to look for any changes. I was taken aback that it was almost entirely rewritten. The plot remains identical but the prose is almost a complete overhaul. To compare one of the more similar sections:

Famous version:

Being a mammal, without previous experience, was to me a series of surprises, mostly unpleasant.
Gaunt, I knew, had the social habit of drinking whiskey. I first drank whiskey on the Pacific with a couple of engineers from Minneapolis.
After a while, I remarked with some concern. “Darn, it, the grav-motors are failing.”
This sometimes happened on space trips, and until they were repaired everyone had to endure free fall. I’d felt the beginning of free fall coming on; at least, I felt I was beginning to float. And I said so.
The two men looked at me strangely, then at each other.
“One whiskey on the rocks and he’s floating,” laughed one.

And the Vision version:

I became a Tyro mammal among experienced mammals.
My deficiencies first began to show on the spaceship to Earth. On the passenger list I was Richard Gaunt. I was Gaunt, physically. I did my best to act like him personally.
I knew he had this social habit of drinking whisky. I gave it a whirl at the bar with an engineer from Minneapolis.
After two whiskies, I remarked, ‘What’s gone wrong with the grav-motors?’
My companion looked at me strangely.
‘They seem okay to me. Sure I’s not the whisky hitting you? This special space brew is potent, you know, if you’re not used to it.’

Now, the scene being depicted has the same purpose: Narvel giving an example of not being used to certain human situations with impersonating Gaunt by his lack of familiarity with Whisky causing him to think there is an issue with the grav-motors. But the feel is completely changed. The prior version is concentrating on feelings and giving it a more comedic sense. The new version is more cerebral and philosophical about the nature of identity.

I still have a number of problems with the text but the changes make it clearer to me what he is trying to do. As such it jumps up a little bit in my ratings.

A low three stars

Undercover Weapon by Jack Wodhams

Illustrated by James

The Fiberphut fabric disintegrator was developed as a means of removing bandages without damaging the skin underneath. When the army look to test its possible military applications, Lt. Cladwell makes his own duplicate model at home. He and his brother-in-law are determined to make a fortune from this device…along with many amorous encounters along the way.

This is the kind of unfunny sex comedy that seem to be growing in popularity at the cinema these days. I don’t like it there and I don’t like it here. I am a little surprised to see this included given last month’s stated “no pornography” policy, but I guess as nothing is described it is considered “good clean fun” by Harbottle. I, on the other hand, find it lecherous and dull.

One Star

Dancing Gerontius by Lee Harding

Illustrated by A. Vince

The elderly on welfare are generally kept in a dream-like state in specialist facilities. However, annually they participate in Year Day, where a combination of drugs and advanced machinery allow them to participate in a period of bacchanalian hedonism. We follow Berensen’s experiences as he is crowned King for the day.

An evocative piece that did not go in the direction I expected it to. Quite haunting by the end.

Four Stars

Minos by Maurice Whitta

Illustrated by Eddie Jones

The final piece is by a new writer to me. The colony-ship Launcelot crash lands on Amor VII, killing almost ¾ of the occupants, including all the women. Another ship primarily composed of women also makes landfall, but contact is lost. From the Guinevere there start emerging minotaur like creatures that attack the men of Launcelot, what could have happened?

This whole piece is kind of a muddle, smelling to me of new author problems. The concepts are good and the point an interesting one. At the same time the action sequences are well written. The problem is structural. For such a small piece too much time is spent in irrelevant sections and the more poignant parts are rushed.

It is not bad though and I hope that Mr. Whitta can sort the issues out in the future.

A low Three Stars

Story rankings from issue 1, my main surprise is seeing the fascinating Lem below the woeful Coney, but each to their own.

Fantasy Review

Illustrated by Philip Harbottle

Ken Slater reviews Timepiece by Brian N. Ball (which he did not enjoy) and Harry Harrison’s Deathworld 3 (which he did). We then have a new reviewer, Kathryn Buckley, covering Stand on Zanzibar in a highly complementary manner. Perhaps trying to balance coverage of the New Wave along with the Good Old Stuff?

Best of Both Worlds?

Additional illustration by Eddie Jones

In both my SF and my music, I am generally drawn towards the future facing experimental works, preferring Colosseum and Chip Delany over The Band and Edgar Rice Burroughs. But I also appreciate both have their advantages and place.

Doing a Sunday afternoon of gardening is wonderful accompanied by some Neil Young or Townes van Zandt. Just as an adventurous tale of daring-do might not be as accomplished as one of Ballard’s cut up stories, it can be a more fun and easy read.

So, whilst neither is perfect, with both the above publications showing successes and failures, I like to think that science fiction is big enough to have both our swashes buckled and our minds expanded.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 12, 1969] Leadership initiatives (December 1969 Galaxy)

November 12, 2024 Gideon Marcus 9 Comments

Tune in, starting November 13, for twelve days of Apollo 12 coverage!

by Gideon Marcus

Happy Anniversary

A year ago, Richard Milhouse Nixon won the Presidency in part on his "secret plan" to get us out of Vietnam. A few months into his term, besieged by increasingly strident demands for progress, National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger urged patience. If things weren't resolved by November, then we would have cause to complain.

Last week, President Nixon revealed his plan for "Vietnamization" in a prime time television address. It called for eventual turning over of the reins of war to the South Vietnamese. However, the President refused to set a timetable for this turnover, saying that such would lead to undue Communist advantage. Nixon suggested that America might step down its bombing by, say, 20%, and see if the North Vietnamese match our draw-down, but the Paris peace talks are dead, and the U.S. would stay the course as long as was necessary.

The President concluded by asserting that the "silent majority" of Americans was behind his plan, and that no foreign power could defeat the United States: defeat could only come from within.

Well, you can imagine that this statement, tantamount to a continuation of President Johnson's pre-1968 policies, did not sit well with a lot of folks, including a host of Congressmen. The unquiet minority also plans to make their voices heard in a second Moratorium march in a few days. We'll see if it has more impact than the last one.

In Other News

If Nixon's address was something of a disappointment, in contrast, the latest issue of Galaxy makes for consistently pleasant reading:

by Jack Gaughan and Phoebe Gaughan

Editor Eljer Jakobsson introduces a new act by artist Vaughn Bodé. Looks like it will be funny, nudie, SF cartoons. Sure, why not?

Also of interest is Budrys' Bookshelf column. I often don't agree with his taste, but I generally enjoy the way he writes his reviews. I found it interesting that Isaac Asimov's unwanted advances toward women have now become so commonplace that Budrys felt he had to alloy his review of the Good Doctor's latest, Opus 100, in his very first paragraph:

"Now you take Isaac Asimov… Well, taking him from the pages of Opus 100, his hundredth book (Houghton Mifflin Company, $5.95), one finds him so various, so beautiful and new that it is only with a wrench of the mind one recalls the last time he pinched one's wife's bottom."

By the way, there is no Willy Ley column (RIP), and they have not found a replacement science writer.

Jamboree, by Jack Williamson

In the future, robots rule, adults are forbidden, and children are raised in Boy Scout-styled prison camps. Two twelve-year-olds attempt a revolution, but quickly learn the futility of resistance.

A bleak story with a downer ending, but at least it's memorable.

Three stars.

Half Past Human, by T. J. Bass

This novella is heralded as a "novel complete in this issue." It is, at least, a complete story, and not a bad one.

The premise: five thousand years from now, three trillion humans infest the planet. They all live underground, the surface being reserved for the cultivation of crops. Virtually no animals have survived into this dark future, so the few remaining individuals, the "I people", living on the surface, mostly get their protein from cannibalism. The underground people have all been evolved for docility, a trait phenotypically displayed by a lack of a fifth toe (presumably the pinky toe). These four-toes are known as "Nebishes".

When I first read about this setup, I assumed this was going to be a satirical, tongue-in-cheek story. It's not, except maybe for a few, farcical touches here and there. What it is is the story of Moses Eppendorff, a comparatively enterprising four-toe, who discovers a new food source and is rewarded with a trip Outside. Eschewing the typical Outside activity—going on a Hunt for I people—he instead takes a hike up a mountain, experiencing solitude for the first time.

He also encounters Moon, a 200+ year-old I person, his 200+ year-old dog, and a sentient spear from the before-times who calls itself Toothpick. Encouraged to abandon the underworld, Moses wanders with these companions, learning about the world including some fascinating biological changes the surface dwellers have evolved to avoid capture/kill. Ultimately, in the most jokey, but blessedly understated, part of the book, Moses, carrying his staff, leads the I-people to what they think is the promised land.

It's actually a pretty good yarn, one of the better overpopulation stories out there. It does an interesting job of contrasting modes of humanity by population density, and Bass creates a compelling world. The prose is occasionally clunky, and the transitions are such that the individual segments don't always dovetail seamlessly, but for a new writer (his first story came out last year), he shows a lot of promise.

Three stars.

Eternity Calling, by John Chambers

An alient bloodsucker, a semi-independent member of a sentient collective, happens upon a human starship. Its one inhabitant is a preacher looking for souls to save. By the end, the shaken terrestrial leaves convinced that the alien has a closer analog to a soul than he does.

This story starts so promisingly, with the extraterrestrial viewpoint vividly drawn. The latter half of the story is a simple dialogue, and not a particularly impactful one at that.

Two stars.

The Year of the Good Seed, by Roger Zelazny and Dannie Plachta

A terran explorer is drawn to a star for its pulsating bursts of energy. It turns out the inhabitants have a tradition of celebrating every quarter century with a pyrotechnic display. Specifically, they detonate nuclear bombs in orbit!

Of course, such activities are purely for their aesthetic appeal. Like the Chinese and their gunpowder firecrackers, the aliens wouldn't dream of using such devices for warfare. At least, they hadn't thought of it until humans gave them the idea…

Rather a silly story, and not as clever as the authors think it is. Two stars.

Downward to the Earth (Part 2 of 4), by Robert Silverberg

Continuing the tale of Edmund Gunderson, former bigwig at the former company colony on steamy Nildoror. Last installment, Gunderson was seeking permission from the native elephantines to travel to the Mist Country, where the Nildoror are reborn, though we don't know why Edmund wants to go there. His request is granted, provided he return with a human named Cullen, who has committed a nameless crime.

So, with a Nildoror escort, Gunderson goes on a long trek across the countryside. A highlight of this jaunt include Edmund's recounting of the event that shocked him into accepting the sentience of the natives, despite their having no formal civilization. Another is when he comes across two dying humans, hosts to an extraterrestrial parasite, and has to decide whether to put them out of their misery.

I wasn't sold on the piece last time, but I now feel I've gotten over the hump and can really live inside not just Gunderson's mind, but also that of his guide, the Nildoror named Srin'gahar. I prefer brooding Silverbob (q.v. The Man in the Maze and Hawksbill Station) to Zelazny look-a-like or borderline-smut Silverbob.

Four stars for this bit, and elevating the work as a whole.

Oracle for a White Rabbit, by David Gerrold

Human Analogue Robot, Life Input Equivalents (HARLIE) is a sapient machine designed to mimic as well as analyze the thought processess of people. One day, Harlie goes on a jag, producing reams of nonsense poetry. These outbursts always follow the mass intake of human-produced modern art.

But is the problem the torrent of non-rational input, or is there something broken inside the computer? Is it a malfunction at all?

I'm not sure that I'm completely sold on the premise or the story, but I have to concede, it feels very modern. David Gerrold, by the way, is the hip young man who penned the script for the Trek episode, "The Trouble with Tribbles". I think this is his first traditionally published science fiction.

Three stars, and let's see where he goes next!

Horn of Plenty, by Vladimir Grigoriev

The inventor, Stepan Onufrievich, happens upon a decayed sign in Moscow, which exhorts citizens to deposit their scraps. It depicts a cornucopia with a man shoveling scrap into one end, producing consumer goods out the other.

Inspired, Onufrievich sets out to build a real Horn of Plenty…and he succeeds! But, this being the Soviet Union, happy times do not last long.

Of course, this story is fantasy, not science fiction, but the satire is nicely biting. I am surprised this one made it past the censors. I am also quite impressed with the translation job: the story reads breezily and charmingly.

Four stars.

Doing the math

Per my Galacto-sliderule, this issue finishes at a modestly entertaining 3.1 stars. That's a little deceptive as the novella and the Silverberg really are at the high end of their ratings, and the two-star stories are short. I feel that Jacobsson is transforming his magazine into something more current. Pohl did an admirable job, but the new Galaxy may end up once again in the vanguard of science fiction digests.

Just in time for the 20th anniversary of the magazine. Keep it up, Eljer!

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 8, 1969] Arabesques (December 1969 Fantastic)

November 8, 2024 Victoria Silverwolf 3 Comments

by Victoria Silverwolf

From Arabia to Japan

The collection of Middle Eastern folktales known in English as Arabian Nights or One Thousand and One Nights is familiar to folks all over the world. Case in point, as Rod Serling might say, is the recent Japanese animated film Senya Ichiya Monogatari, which is loosely based on the collection.

Japanese poster for the film. I don't know if it will ever show up elsewhere.

I should point out that this is not a cartoon intended for children. Like the work which inspired it, it contains considerable erotic material. If it ever gets released in the USA, it might get the infamous X rating.

I bring this up because the latest issue of Fantastic contains the first part of a new novel inspired by the same source as the film.

Cover art by Johnny Bruck

As is often the case lately, the cover is (ahem) borrowed from a German publication.

Die Herrscher der Nacht (The Ruler of the Night) is the title of the German translation of Jack Williamson's 1948 novel Darker Than You Think.

Editorial, by Ted White

The editor begins by telling us how the magazine's lead serial (see below) fell into his hands. Long story short, it failed to find a publisher, got reviewed in a fanzine, Ted White read it and liked it. He then goes on to relate the big changes in Fantastic and its sister publication Amazing. My esteemed colleague John Boston has already discussed this in detail, so let me give you the Reader's Digest version. Higher price, more words, only one reprint per issue. Nuff said.

No rating.

Hasan (Part One of Two), by Piers Anthony

Illustrations by Jeff Jones.

More than half the magazine consists of the first installment of this Arabian Nights fantasy adventure.

Hasan is a rather naive and foolish young man, living in Arabia around the year 800 or so. He meets a Persian alchemist who demonstrates how to turn copper into gold. His mother warns him not to trust this fire-worshipping infidel, but Hasan's greed overcomes what little common sense he possesses.

The wicked Persian kidnaps him and takes him on an ocean journey to the island of Serendip. (We call it Ceylon nowadays—the magazine provides a helpful map).

Despite this, Hasan still trusts the alchemist enough to perform the dangerous task of being carried to the top of a mountain by a roc, in order to gather the stuff needed to transform copper into gold. The poor sap doesn't realize that the Persian intends to leave him stranded on the peak, where he'll starve to death.

Suffice to say that, with a lot of dumb luck, Hasan makes his way to an isolated palace inhabited by seven beautiful sisters, who adopt him as their brother. He goes on to witness birds change into even more beautiful women, one of whom he is determined to have for his bride. (She has little say in the matter.)

Seeing her naked while she is bathing makes him fall madly in love.

Without giving away too much, let's just say that the further adventures of Hasan and the bird woman will appear in the next issue.

The author appears to be well acquainted with One Thousand and One Nights, given his accompanying article on the subject (see below.) As far as I can tell, he captures the flavor of this kind of Arabian folktale in a convincing way. Despite the fact that the hero is kind of a dope, and that the female characters (except Hasan's long-suffering mother) mostly exist to be alluringly beautiful, this half of the novel makes for light, entertaining reading.

Three stars.

Morality, by Thomas N. Scortia

Illustration by Bruce Jones.

It's obvious from the start that this is a science fiction version of the myth of the Minotaur, although the author doesn't make this explicit until the end. The legendary monster is an alien stranded on Earth, forced to serve an ambitious king while trying to contact his own kind.

There's not much more to this story than its retelling of the old tale. It plays out just as you'd expect.

Two stars.

Would You? by James H. Schmitz

A wealthy fellow invites an equally rich acquaintance to make use of a magic chair. It seems that it has the ability to allow the person seated in it to change the past.

I hope I'm not revealing too much to state that neither man chooses to alter his past, preferring to leave well enough alone. That seems to be the point of the story. A tale of fantasy in which an enchanted object is not used is unusual, I suppose, if not fully satisfying.

Two stars.

Magic Show, by Alan E. Nourse

A couple of guys watch a magic show at a cheap carnival. One of them heckles the magician, who invites him to take part in his greatest feat.

You can probably see where this is going. No surprises in the plot. I have to wonder why a real, powerful magician works at a lousy little carnival.

Two stars.

X: Yes, by Thomas M. Disch

An unspecified referendum always appears on the ballot in every election. Everybody knows that the proper thing to do is vote No. A woman chooses to vote Yes, just as children vote Yes during their mock elections.

Can you tell that this is an odd little story? I'm not sure what the author is getting at, unless it's something about conformity and rebellion. At least it's not a simple, predictable plot. Food for thought, I guess.

Three stars.

Big Man, by Ross Rocklynne

The April 1941 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this wild yarn.

Cover art by J. Allen St. John.

I can't argue with the accuracy of the title. A gigantic man — he's said to be one or two miles tall — walks through the Atlantic Ocean to Washington, D. C. The behemoth is under the control of a Mad Scientist, who intends to take over the United States government and run things the way he thinks they should be run.

Illustration by Robert Fuqua.

It's up to a heroic pilot and his girlfriend (who, in an incredible coincidence, turns out to be the sister of the young fellow who was transformed into the giant) to defeat the Mad Scientist and end the reign of terror of the Big Man.

Boy, this is a goofy story. I think the author saw King Kong too many times. The premise is, of course, absurd, and it's treated in the corniest pulp fiction manner imaginable.

One star.

Alf Laylah Wa Laylah — A Essay on The Arabian Nights, by Piers Anthony

As part of the magazine's Fantasy Fandom column, this article is reprinted from the fanzine Niekas. It discusses One Thousand and One Nights in detail, comparing English translations and offering examples of the kinds of tales it contains. Copious footnotes, some serious and some playful. The author clearly knows his subject.

Three stars.

Fantasy Books by Fritz Leiber and Fred Lerner

Leiber quickly gives a positive review of Captive Universe by Harry Harrison, praises Walker and Company for reprinting science fiction classics in handsome hardcover editions, defends the use of strong language in Bug Jack Barron by Norman Spinrad, gives thumbs up to A Fine and Private Place by Peter S. Beagle, and talks about Eric R. Eddison's fantasy novels. He ends this rapid-fire essay by comparing the way that Heinlein, Spinrad, and Eddison describe a woman's breasts. (The latter excerpt is a really wild bit of outrageously purple prose.)

Lerner, in an article reprinted from the fanzine Akos, talks about two nonfiction books about J. R. R. Tolkien. He dismisses Understanding Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings by William Ready as poorly written and overly interpretive, and praises Tolkien: A Look Behind The Lord of the Rings by Lin Carter for its discussion of epic fantasy in general.

No rating.

… According to You, by various

The letters from readers offer both praise and criticism. One of the editor's replies reveals that sales of the magazine went down when Cele Goldsmith was in charge, even though the quality of fiction improved. I hope that's not a bad omen for the way Ted White is taking the publication.

No rating.

Worthy of Scheherazade?

Not a great issue, although Anthony's novel and related essay are well worth reading. The new stuff is so-so and the reprint is laughably poor. It might be better to watch an old movie instead.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 2, 1969] Love and Hate (December 1969 IF)

November 2, 2024 David Levinson 1 Comment

by David Levinson

A paper dragon

Back in April, I wrote about a border skirmish between the Soviet Union and China. That wasn’t the end of the matter. The Soviets went on a minor diplomatic offensive, trying to get India to join an alliance against China and to pull North Korea back into the Soviet orbit. Violence flared up again in August on the Terekty River on the border between the Sinkiang region of China and the Kazakh SSR. As in April, both sides accused the other of crossing the border.

Rumor has it that Soviet Foreign Minister Alexei Kosygin attempted to contact the Chinese government in an effort to calm tensions and reopen negotiations on the border. His efforts were reportedly rudely rebuffed by Chairman Mao. At the funeral of Ho Chi Minh in early September, the Soviet and Chinese delegations went out of their way to avoid being in the same room with each other, even attending the funeral at different times.

When Kosygin left Hanoi on September 11th, his plane was denied entry into Chinese airspace, forcing a long detour. But while the plane was refueling in India, Kosygin was informed that the Chinese were ready to talk. He promptly flew to Peking, where he and Chinese Foreign Minister Chou Enlai met at the airport. They agreed to reinstate diplomatic relations and reopen talks on the border.

l. Soviet Foreign Minister Alexei Kosygin, r. Chinese Foreign Minister Chou Enlai

Despite that, Mao continued to ramp up his hostile rhetoric towards the Soviets. China also began moving large numbers of troops north to the border regions. That was followed by two unannounced nuclear tests at the end of September, most notably China’s largest detonation to date (3 megatons) on the 29th. The very next day, Chinese Defense Minister Lin Biao put the armed forces on the highest level of alert.

And then on October 9th, Mao blinked. China announced that they would no longer claim territory annexed by Tsarist Russia over the last 300 years through “unequal treaties.” The only concession demanded is that the Soviet Union acknowledge that the treaties were unfair. The status quo has been restored, and the only result of six months of high tension is several ulcers and a huge sigh of relief around the world.

Love among the ruins

Love runs through most of the stories in this month’s IF. Not as a romantic theme, but rather as an examination of the ways in which it affects the events of the stories and is in turn affected by events.

Vaguely suggested by Ancient, My Enemy. Art by Gaughan

Ancient, My Enemy, by Gordon R. Dickson

Udbahr is a hell world. Daytime temperatures are so high it is impossible for humans to survive outside of special shelters. On top of that, protein is so scarce, the only source for the natives are each other or the humans who have come to prospect and explore the ruins of an ancient civilization.

One such person is Kiev Archad, currently acting as a guide for female graduate student Willy Fairchild. Unfortunately, she is full of ideas that don’t mesh well with the ways in which humans and Udbahrs interact. Despite that, a relationship develops between the two. The final obstacle to their romance is a native named Hehog, who has decided that he and Kiev are ancient enemies, reborn every generation to take turns killing each other.

Hehog taunts Kiev. Art probably by Gaughan

This is not the Dickson story I was expecting. From the title, I thought this would be one of his military pieces, maybe a new Dorsai tale. This is personal in a way those stories aren’t, and it’s very, very good. But Dickson didn’t quite hit the mark for me. He never really sells the relationship between Kiev and Willy; worse, even though Kiev is the viewpoint character, we never really get into his head, which makes the ending a bit inscrutable. And for all that, and because I know Dickson is capable of doing better, I have to lower my rating. Don’t be surprised to see this one nominated for a lot of awards, though.

A very, very high three stars.

Now No One Waits, by Neil Shapiro

Wrecked on a dead world, a man and a woman have little hope of rescue. They spend their time in meaningless sex and exploring the ruins of a lost civilization.

The doomed couple study the map room. Art by Gaughan

Shapiro seems to be a new writer, though he isn’t this month’s IF first; maybe he has a sale or two outside science fiction. In any case, the writing is solid for the most part. The ending, though, didn’t seem to grow naturally from what came before and also felt rather obscure. A writer with potential.

A slightly below average three stars.

What Time Was That?, by Barry Malzberg

Malzberg offers us a New Wave tale of the invention of a time machine, told in first, second, and third person. It mostly works.

Three stars.

A crackpot’s time machine. Art probably by Gaughan

Heroes Die But Once, by Norman Spinrad

A newlywed couple are exploring the galaxy, hoping to find a habitable world and make their fortune. They find one, but they also find aliens who decide to stress test their relationship.

I don’t know if this is a printing error or a deliberate choice, but it’s awfully hard to read. Art by Gaughan

A reasonable effort by Spinrad, with more than a touch of Ellisonian cynicism. It’s not a pleasant read, but then it’s not trying to say pleasant things.

Three stars.

The New Thing, by John Brunner

From the title and author, I was expecting a piece satirizing the New Wave. Instead, it’s an examination of what happens to societies in the extremely far future when a sort of interstellar Guinness Book of Records makes it clear that there truly is nothing new under the sun (or any other star).

Waiting rooms will never change. Art probably by Gaughan

It’s a bit long-winded and consists almost entirely of people sitting around and talking. Nevertheless, it mostly works.

Three stars.

In the Beginning, by Glenn Chang

This month’s official new author asks if love can endure beyond the end of all things. The theme is jejune, and the ending rather trite, but the author is only 18. He shows promise, and more experience with the real world could result in some good stories.

Three stars.

The Story of Our Earth (Part 4), by Willy Ley

Ley’s history of the planet has reached the Carboniferous period. He talks about the origins of coal (no matter what Sinclair Oil may say, it wasn’t dinosaurs) and how our understanding of the period has changed. From there he moves to the Earth’s first ice age and the Permian period. He focuses on the primitive reptiles of the time and the importance of teeth to paleontologists.

Four stars.

The Man Who Would Not, by James E. Gunn

It’s hard to say anything about this without giving the whole thing away. In essence, it’s a conversation about the end of an experiment. Beyond that, I’ll only say that it is both downbeat and hopeful.

Four stars.

Art by Gaughan

The Seeds of Gonyl (Part 3 of 3), by Keith Laumer

Honestly, I just don’t feel motivated to summarize the end of this serial. Aliens, a guy with memories he can’t quite explain, blah, blah, blah. The hero triumphs in the end. Sort of. Everybody on Earth is dead except for a few hundred people in south-eastern Nebraska. If you’re familiar with Laumer, he does this better in other books; if you aren’t, this is not a good place to start.

A low three stars for this part (some of the action is OK) and barely three stars for the whole thing.

The hero and an ally fight an invader. Art by Gaughan

Summing up

I’m starting to feel like I know what IF is going to be like under the new management. Just looking at the scores, it doesn’t seem all that different from the Pohl days. That’s true for the peaks and averages, but the lows don’t seem to be as low. Plus, the overall tone is fresher. My only real complaint is the art being all Gaughan all the time, and uncredited. We’re not getting his best work. Otherwise, I’d say IF is looking good as we move into a new decade.

Sounds like the big story would have fit right in this month.

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[Oct. 31, 1969] Struggling to get out (November 1969 Analog)

October 31, 2024 GalacticJourney 2 Comments

Science Fiction Theater Episode #10

Tonight (Oct. 31), tune in at 7pm (Pacific) for our special, Halloween-themed episode!

by Gideon Marcus

Inside Lebanon

Feel that? It's the calm before the storm.

For the past week, the nation of Lebanon has been rocked from within by "Palestinian" guerrillas. Yesterday, at the behest of leaders in Cairo, Damascus, and Tripoli, the raiders settled down, awaiting what looks like will be a significant negotiation between Arab power brokers.

I'm no expert on the issue, but here's what I've gleaned. When Israel declared independence in 1948, a significant percentage of the Arab population within the nascent nation's borders left the former mandate of Palestine. Some fled violence, like that inflicted by classy folk such as Menachem Begin of the Irgun, a Jewish terrorist group. Others left at the exhortation of their Arab brethren, who proclaimed that they were about to drive the Jews into the sea.

Hundreds of thousands of Arabs ended up in neighboring countries: Jordan, Egypt, Syria, and Lebanon. Indeed, exiled Arabs now comprise 12% of the population of Lebanon—fully 300,000 people. They live in camps administrated by the draconian Lebanese Deuxième Bureau.

The "Palestinian Liberation Organization", founded in 1964 with the goal of "the liberation of Palestine", initiated terrorist attacks against Israel after The Six Day War in 1967. Such are being carried out from enclaves in other countries with more or less tacit permission from those countries' governments.

The recent irruption in Lebanon arose from the Lebanese cracking down on these raids. The violence, thwarted from heading southward, flooded internally—into Beirut, Tyre, Lebanese Tripoli, and other major cities. Egypt, Syria, and Libya all leaned hard on the Christian Arab nation to let loose the reins on the guerrillas. Lebanon has relented, and the negotiations will proceed shortly. Participants will be Dr. Hassan Sabri El Kholi, personal envoy of Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser, Libyan Interior Minister Mousa Ahmed, and guerrilla chief Yasser Arafat. While there's no telling what the outcome will be, one has to imagine the Palestinians will be allowed to resume their raids into Israel again.

With the War of Attrition occupying Israel on its western and eastern fronts, it now looks as if the Jewish state is about to be busy defending from the north, too. Most folk are betting on the Israeli Defense Force, but can the country survive under siege forever?

Time will tell.

Inside Analog

by Vincent Di Fate

Like Lebanon, the crisis facing Analog comes from within, as evidenced by the latest issue. From without, the magazine looks like it always has—handsome, professional. But within, one can see the rot. Not that it's all bad; indeed, much of it is decent. But what works is stagnant, and what doesn't work is very much the sort of thing we expect from long-toothed editor John Campbell.

Gottlos, by Colin Kapp

Starting off, we have what looks like a Bolo story—one of those Keith Laumer tales featuring a sentient, super-tank. Unlike Laumer's stories, this one has a lot of action, with the Fiendish mauling dozens of opposing vehicles, overruning a command post, and then meeting its match with the arrival of the ebony Gottlos.

After Fiendish is destroyed, we learn that it was actually a remotely controlled tank. Its pilot, Manton, had so thoroughly melded with the machine, that the result was a gestalt personality, one motivated by violence and vengeance. With his vehicle destroyed, Manton falls into an apparent funk, shaken by the appearance of a more powerful machine. The real terror of Gottlos is that it seems to need no radio controls at all. Is it autonomous? A kind of cybernetic beast?

Kapp has written more of a philosophical than predictive piece, describing how a society might decay under the strain of endless war and complete mechanization. I appreciate Kapp's skill with English, but the story itself seemed a bit implausible in its setup.

Three stars.

Telepathy – Did It Happen?, by J. B. Reswick and L. Vodonik

Oh boy. A pair of cranks conducted a telepathy experiment. Here's the notion: telepathy is only reliable about 1-2% of the time. But what's really happening, they suppose, is that there's just so much interference that the message gets clogged with static. If one conducts thousands of tests using a simple message, the errors will be reduced, and the message will stand out.

The setup they used involved a binary message and transmitter. After many trials, the experimenters determined that had gotten the error down low enough to show that something had objectively been transmitted. Of course, the researchers admitted that their data only supported this conclusion if you read the results backwards (i.e. if the 1s of the original message were logged as 0s and vice versa.)

Given the thin margins of success, if you gotta flip the results on their heads to get any kind of answer, I suspect it's all bogus. Which is how I'm beginning to feel about psionics in general.

One star.

Weapon of the Ages, by W. Macfarlane

by Leo Summers

Humanity is hounded by vicious extraterrestrials when they try to go to the stars. One pilot crashlands on a neutral world, is conducted to a mysterious weapon, and manages to wipe out a set of local marauders. The weapon's use has side effects, one which the owner's race is prepared for, but not the human who fired it.

Macfarlane is trying for a cute sting-in-the-tail story, but the whole thing is nonsensical, so it lacks the desired impact.

Two stars.

The Ambassadors, by as by J. B. Clarke

by Leo Summers

A set of three disparate aliens makes contact with the galactic organization of which the humans are a member. Said aliens claim to be vastly superior to our federation, but they say they'll be generous and give us a few technological wonders—if only we'll give them an example of one of our best starships, so they can gauge our level of progress. Since homo sapiens has (per the story) an unique ability to sniff out a scam, a human is sent to investigate to see if the aliens are on the level.

Things that suggest the aliens are hoaxing: they showed up in a borrowed spaceship, no one has ever heard of their stellar confederation, and their "capital" planet is a smoggy wasteland. Points in their favor: the three wear a common uniform and despite profound apparent racial differences, work together in perfect harmony. Conclusion, they must represent an ancient and tight-knit federation!

Much is made of the fact that most species in the galaxy are bi-sexual. Not that you'd know from this story, whose only female human is a "pert secretary." The leader of the alien delegation is a female, to the surprise of the humans receiving them. Cue the snide comments about how women always have to speak for the menfolk (the implication being that such arrogance is misplaced). In the end, the gender of the aliens is the key to unpuzzling the obvious hoax.

Clarke spends a lot of time setting up a puzzle whose solution is apparent from nearly the beginning. The characters have to be obtuse to make the story work. Obtuse and sexist.

One star.

Shapes to Come, by Edward Wellen

by Vincent Di Fate

A scientist in an isolated base on the Moon has completed his work: he has perfected a spore that will inject itself into any alien genetic structure, instilling an irresistible trust of the human form. By seeding the stars with this spore, when we meet any extraterrestrials, they will necessarily greet us with love and affection.

But before the spore can be deployed, an alien armada shows up. Can you guess what completely unexpected result ends the tale based on the story's setup?

This is comic book level stuff. Two stars.

The Yngling (Part 2 of 2), by John Dalmas

by Kelly Freas

Concluding the two-part serial begun last ish, The Yngling latter half is choppy but worthy.

When we last left our hero, the psi-adept Nordic warrior, Nils Ironhand, he had been sent into the lion's den. More specifically, to the domain of Kazi, an immortal (through soul transferrence into new bodies) who reigns through unbelievable cruelty. His armies are poised at the doorstep of Europe, and in short order, more than thirty thousand of his "orc" hordes will sweep through the Balkans bent on rapine and ravagery.

Nils presents a condundrum to the psionic tyrant as his signature trait is the lack of an internal monologue. Thus, his mind cannot be read, barely even sensed. He also is completely without guile. Interestingly, while this wordless mentality is portrayed as an unique characteristic, and perhaps a side effect of Nils' psi powers, it can't be that rare in the real world. Indeed, one of the Journey's very own, Tam Phan, possesses this trait. Now, Tam is also a fantastic warrior, so there may be a connection.

Tam and familiar faces at a local gathering of Vikings

In any event, after Nils gets to witness some particularly gruesome examples of Kazi's barbarism, he escapse, makes it back to Hungary, and organizes a resistance comprising Magyar, Ukrainian, Polish, and Bohemian knights…as well as hundreds of his kinsman, who have just crossed the Baltic, fleeing the impending Ice Age. The resulting battle is lengthy, desperate, and strategic in detail. Of course, you can guess who wins.

This is a tough book to rate! It's firmly in the genre of magical post-Apocalypse, along with Omha Abides, Spawn of the Death Machine, Out of the Mouth of the Dragon, and so on. I happen to like this genre, and while I'm growing to loathe psi stories, in these settings, I can just pretend it's a kind of magic, or maybe lost technology.

The key to writing this genre well, and Dilmas does, is to bathe it in sensuality and adventure. In many ways, Nils is more akin to Conan than any scientifical hero you'd expect to find in Analog. I also greatly appreciate that Dilmas manages to convey the most unspeakable of tortures completely obliquely. A few artful words can chill far more than pages of explicit gore.

Too, I enjoyed the grand depiction of the battle, complete with fog of war and the uncertainty that accompanies it. So vivid is this portion of the novel, that one could probably adapt a cracking wargame from it. Jim Dunnigan, are you listening?

It's not all roses, of course. As in the first half, the various sections of the novel don't quite hang together well, like bricks without mortar. Much is bridged in shorthand. Also, Nils having to retell the same story to half a dozen European lords to rally them against the orcs was a bit tiresome. Perhaps all of these things will be smoothed when this story inevitably gets picked up by Ace. Or maybe not—they like their books short.

Anyway, I'd give this installment four stars, three-and-a-half for the whole. Fans of this sort of thing, like my nephew, David, may notch up their assessments a touch.

Doing the math

Boy, Analog has been bad lately. I know it seems like I just keep saying it over and over again, but until these doldrums end, I'll have to find creative ways to repeat myself.

At 2.3 stars, Analog is by far the lowest in the pack. IF got 3.1; Vision of Tomorrow got 3.2; even Amazing got 3.2; Galaxy got 2.9; so did Venture; Fantasy and Science Fiction got 2.7; and New Worlds got 2.8.

Women wrote about 10% of what was published this month, and you could fit all the four and five star stuff in two digests. Given that eight came out for November, that's a pretty weak showing.

Perhaps if Ted White, Ed Ferman, Charles Platt, and Ejler Jakobsson went over to Condé Nast headquarters for a negotiation, Campbell might loosen the reins on his writers. Couldn't hurt!

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55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction