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[September 2, 1967] Of Genies and Bottles (October 1967 IF)


by David Levinson

The radiant genie

They say that, once you let the genie out of the bottle, it can be very hard to get him back in. Twenty-two years ago, we unleashed the genie of atomic warfare, and it has loomed ominously over humanity ever since. Most of us remember the tension of the Cuban Missile Crisis just five years ago (though it seems both farther in the past and more recent) and probably still feel a little uneasy whenever a warning siren goes off. Current predictions estimate as many as 25-30 nuclear-armed countries within 20 years.

William C. Foster, the chief American representative to the Eighteen Nation Committee on Disarmament.

Is this an inevitability? Perhaps not. In 1960, the Ten Nation Committee on Disarmament, composed of five Western and five Eastern countries, met briefly in the spring and early summer, but adjourned indefinitely in the face of the U-2 incident and the collapse of the planned Paris summit. Toward the end of the following year, the U. N. created the Eighteen Nation Committee on Disarmament, composed of the original ten countries and another eight non-aligned nations, which has been meeting regularly in Geneva since March of 1962. On August 11th, William C. Foster, the chief American representative on the committee, announced that the United States and the Soviet Union have agreed in principle on the terms of a nuclear non-proliferation treaty. The two nations submitted identical drafts to the U. N. on the 24th. These will (hopefully) form the basis of a treaty to be voted on by the General Assembly, that will at least rein in the genie.

A bottle of jinn

There are a couple of metaphorical genies out of the bottle in this month’s IF, not to mention all the demons of Hell. Let’s pop the cork.

The art is intriguing, but none of this happens in Hal Clement’s new novel. Art by Castellon

Ocean on Top (Part 1 of 3), by Hal Clement

Our unnamed narrator (he hates his name and won’t say what it is) is an investigator for the Power Board looking into the disappearance of three other investigators near Easter Island. Stealthily sinking to the bottom of the sea, he discovers lights shining on the sea floor – a massive and criminal waste of power – and what seems to be an entire settlement of people. After being found out, he nearly escapes, but is ultimately captured and brought into the base. There he is astonished as he observes his captors removing their helmets, regardless of not only the tremendous pressure, but also the fact that they are still in a watery environment. To be continued.

These underwater criminals ought to be crushed before they have the chance to drown. Art by Castellon

Since this is Hal Clement, there’s undoubtedly some scientific principle at work, but this is otherwise an unusual story for him. This first installment is almost all action (albeit in slow motion, as befits the underwater setting) and has a much darker tone than he usually uses. At this point, we’re left mostly with questions.

Three stars.

Conqueror, by Larry Eisenberg

Joe is a member of the occupying forces on an alien planet. Command keeps careful control on soldiers’ access to booze and sex in order to maintain peaceful relations with the locals, and Joe is getting desperate for the latter. He’s not willing to use one of the androids the natives use, and local women willing to offer themselves to the occupiers are few and far between. So when he runs into a woman willing to go with him in exchange for food, he jumps at the chance.

Eisenberg’s output has been fairly hit or miss thus far. This tale doesn’t quite have the punch he’d like it to have, but it’s reasonably well done and has a sting in its tail.

A high three stars.

Fans Down Under, by Lin Carter

Science fiction fandom isn’t just an American phenomenon, so Our Man in Fandom has decided to take a world tour. First stop is Australia, which seems to be a real hotbed of SF activity, with Melbourne the apparent center. Despite its name, the Australian Science Fiction Review is not a serious, literary fanzine, but one that looks at SF as entertainment and offers lively criticism that pulls no punches. Meanwhile, the Melbourne Science Fiction Club has come up with the idea of holding regular screenings of SF movies and also maintains a lending library. I imagine both are the consequence of the difficulty of finding SF from the rest of the world.

Three stars.

Enemy of the Silkies, by A. E. van Vogt

Silkies were thought to be genetically engineered humans capable of living underwater and in space as easily as on land. In the last story, it was revealed that they are actually aliens, and at the end the Earth was orbiting a giant sun along with thousands of other worlds. When contact is made with the ancient enemies of the Silkies, it is once again up to Nat Cemp to solve the problems of his people and planet.The Nijjan and Silkies are ancient enemies. Art by Gaughan

All three Silkie stories follow the same pattern: Nat encounters an alien threat, learns a new mental ability from the alien, and uses it to defeat the enemy. If you liked the others, you’ll probably like this one.

Barely three stars.

The Food of Mars, by Max H. Flindt

There may be lichen on Mars. Some lichens are edible. Therefore, astronauts who go to Mars will be able to eat lichen.

Never have I seen so many errors of fact in a science article, not even in an Analog article on the Dean drive or using astrology to predict the weather. The author begins with the assertion that there are obviously artificial canals on Mars, thus the areas of color change sometimes observed there must be lichen. This was written before the Mariner photos came out, but even then the idea of Martian canals was a dying, minority opinion. He then discusses lichen in the diets of some human populations (true) and details his own experiences eating Spanish Moss (not a lichen) and Ear of the Wood and Ear of the Rock bought in Chinatown (both are mushrooms).

One star.

Winter of the Llangs, by C. C. MacApp

Chimmuh is an adolescent krote whose herd has been caught in their summering place by early snows. The elderly and weak will be left behind, likely to fall prey to the vicious llangs. As tradition demands, he will remain with his mother, who will deliver a new calf soon. His ingenuity finds the group a place to camp that is easily defended against the llangs, and with luck they can hold out until the return of a hunting party under the command of his father. But that party might pass them by unaware, so it is up to Chimmuh to venture out alone to try to make contact.

Chimmuh fights a pair of llangs. Art by Virgil Finlay

This is a fine little adventure story. Not exceptional, but a decent read. This is the kind of thing MacApp can do right.

Three stars.

Mu Panther, by Donald J. Walsh

A century or so after a couple of major nuclear power plant accidents resulted in mutant predators roaming the American west, Barry Everett and his partners are hired to track down a panther that’s raiding a large ranch in Wyoming. At over 35 feet from nose to tail, this wily creature will demand all their skill and perfect coordination.

This is a standard big game adventure tale – complete with rich idiot who refuses to listen to the experts – all with a science fiction spin. It’s fairly well-written for a freshman effort, even if it’s nothing special.

Three stars.

Faust Aleph-Null (Part 3 of 3), by James Blish

Arms-dealer Baines has hired the black sorcerer Theron Ware to grant a number of high-ranking demons free reign upon the Earth for 24 hours. It goes about as well as you might expect.

Baphomet drops by for some exposition. Art by Gray Morrow

James Blish appears to have been possessed by Philip José Farmer. There’s an interesting story here, but it comes to an unsatisfying and abrupt halt. The story’s end should be the end of the second act. Worse, there’s, at most, enough here for a novelette. Much of the previous installments had subplots and character introductions that serve no purpose to the story. This time, a full page is given to rattling off the names of several white monks, who are just inserts of various science fiction authors (my favorite: Fr. Anson, “a brusque engineer-type who specialized in unclouding the minds of politicians”–note that the "A" in Robert A. Heinlein stands for "Anson"). Six pages are dedicated to the summoning, five of them just for the names and descriptions of several of the demons. This isn’t a story, it’s Blish showing off his research. Much like I said last month, interesting but not necessary. And then everything hits a brick wall and just stops.

Barely three stars for this part and only two for the whole (which is less than the sum of its parts).

Summing up

Another march down the path of mediocrity. There’s some decent stuff here, and some that could be better. Particularly the Blish. It’s a decent setting without the gem it needs. I’ve been saying I’d settle for something really bad, and I certainly got it with the “fact” article. I should be careful what I wish for. As it is, I’d be happy if, for once, I can say more than Señor Wences’ Pedro. “’S all right.”

At least a new Berserker story sounds promising.






[August 31, 1967] I wouldn't send a knight out on a dog like this… (September 1967 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Reversed metaphors

As we speak, I am packing for my trip to this year's Worldcon.  I'm not sure what to expect other than I understand I'll be on a lot of panels.  I'm mostly looking forward to seeing friends like Tom Purdom, Larry Niven, Ted White, and more.

My excitement is somewhat alloyed by the most recent magazine I've just finished.  After reading this month's Analog, I find myself asking, "Is this the state of science fiction?"


by Kelly Freas

The King's Legions, by Christopher Anvil

This month in Science Fiction Times, Norm Spinrad talked about how every editor has their pet authors.  Chris Anvil is the one who panders the most to Campbell's sensibilities, producing story after story of farcical garbage.  Legions continues the tale in which three planetary exploiters, who dealt with a planet controlled by robotic overlords by developing a emotional control nerve agent. 


by Kelly Freas

Last installment, said trio dealt with the collapse of society that ensued by assuming the roles of agents of competing feudal overlords, creating the illusion of a threat too big to contest by the planet's ragged revolutionaries.

This time around, a cadre of pirates, lured by the treasure said planet might offer (as well as the representatives' ships) have arrived bent on conquest. 

I'll be honest.  I got about four pages into this, flipped through to see that the damned thing is nearly 70 pages, and decided for once I would abrogate my responsibilities.  To quote Buck Coulson in this month's Yandro, "I can't read all this crap, and this seemed to be a good one to miss."

Two stars.

The Pearly Gates of Hell, by Jack Wodhams


by Rudolph Palais

Lurid account of a man's endless attempts at suicide, thwarted by a society that really wants its members to stay alive–forever.

Of course, even if one is successful, that doesn't mean surcease…

Bit of a tired one-note, this one.  Two stars.

The Usefulness of Nicotine, by Professor J. Harold Burn, FRS

This month's science article is a reprint, cacklingly presented by John W. Campbell, inveterate smoker.  Oh sure, the article writer concedes, smoking might kill you, but look how happy and productive you'll be before cancer does you in!  And here are all the gruesome details of the cats and rats vivisected to prove our point.

No thanks.  One star.

Fiesta Brava, by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

The misadventures of Section G, whose task is to ensure none of the United Planets gets too backwards lest they be easy prey for the (yet unmet) alien menace, continue.  This time, the agents sent by Director Sid Jakes are a botanist from a heavy gee planet, a cordon bleu chef with a talent for object throwing, a colorless matron with a photographic memory, and a diminutive 25 year-old who looks like she's eight.

This quartet is sent off to Falange, a colony of Spanish emigrants who have elected to preserve the police state of Francisco Franco long after his passing.  High jinks ensue.

Fiesta reads like Heinlein writing a Retief story, with Reynolds' patented history lessons thrown in.  To wit, this time we learn about bullfights (which Mack presumably saw when he was in Spain), the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, and why slaves really are happier than we give them credit for. After all–it's not as if there were ever any slave revolts.

I guess Reynolds' travels never took him to Haiti.

Anyway, it's not very good, but if you go for this sort of thing, it is readable.  I guess I'll give it a three.  I'm trying to be nicer these days.

Important Difference, by E. G. Von Wald


by Kelly Freas

Humanity has been at peace for 500 years, but this tranquility is disturbed when (putatively) bug-eyed aliens appear and start shooting.  One three-man scout becomes the first recon ship to successfully engage the enemy…and discover their true shape.

The "twist" is telegraphed as loudly as "What hath God wrought?" but I did appreciate how our race might evolve to the point that, even if our enemy looks like us, we could find a warlike nature so repellent as to mark a drastically different species.

Another low three star.

Lost Calling, by Verge Foray


by Leo Summers

Ingenuous young Dalton Mirni is picked up by a tramp freighter after being (so he says) in the captivity of aliens for 16 years of his life.  The problem is there are no aliens, at least that humanity knows of.  Not only that, but there is a big blank in his memory.  He knows he was being trained for a singular profession, but he has no idea what it was.

Still, he looks on the bright side.  After all, he is universally liked, by the crew that picks him up, the planet of Fingal (enemy of Earth), and the Earth people themselves.  And Mirni has the uncanny ability to solve people's interpersonal problems.

Of course, there can't be any connection between this skill and his lost memories…

I appreciated the tone of this story, and it's also pretty well done.  Definitely the best thing in the magazine, though I don't think I'd give it a fourth star.

Bad data

All in all, pretty grim.  Even being generous with my ratings, Analog clocks in at a dismal 2.3 stars, beaten by every other magazine and short story collection this month.  In order of decreasing badness, we have Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.8), IF (2.9), Orbit 2 (3), Fantastic (3), New Worlds (3.2), and The Devil His Due (3.2).

You could take all the four and five star stories and fill two digests (or thin books), which is pretty bad given we had seven to choose from.  It was a bright spot for women, though, as they contributed nearly 16% of the new stories published.

So is all hope lost?  Not necessarily.  I've already started on next month's Galaxy, and Budrys' book column discusses how the New Wave of authors (Aldiss, Ballard, Zelazny, Delany, et. al.) are revolutionizing the field.

They just aren't doing it in the pages of Analog.  So long as Campbell remains in the editorial chair, I suppose the revolution will remain untelevised.

We'll see how long that lasts.  Even Alabama integrated…






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


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

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


Cover by Peter Phillips

Let’s go to the issue!

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

Illustration by Zoline

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

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

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

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

Still Trajectories by Brian W. Aldiss

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

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

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

Article: Psychological Streamlining by Christopher Finch

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

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

Masterton and the Clerks by John T. Sladek

Here’s that story delayed from last month.

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

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

Article: A New Look at Vision by Christopher Evans

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

Book Reviews

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

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

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

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

Summing up New Worlds

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

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

And I realise that that may be the point.

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


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

Until the next!





[August 18, 1967] The Best and the Brightest? (September 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Inside baseball

In the latest issue of Science Fiction Times, author Norman Spinrad complains that with just four science fiction magazines left, under the helm of three editors, it is impossible for the 250 members of the newly formed Science Fiction Writers of America to make a living at short story writing.  Spinrad also says that the editors have their chosen pet authors (Spinrad calls them "whores"), and because they are gauranteed slots, other writers are left in the cold. This, Spinrad maintains, is why so many folks are turning to novels or TV to make ends meet.  He feels this is a shame since you can do things with short stories and novelettes you can't do with novel-length pieces.  Spinrad notes that we'll never get another Sturgeon, Bradbury, or Cordwainer Smith under the current situation (I note with some amusement that Cordwainer Smith was one of Pohl's so-called "pets", which I guess makes him a brilliant "whore", according to Spinrad's definition).

Spinrad ends his piece urging that writers demand that Amazing and Fantastic end their mainly-reprint policy (they don't pay for them, which has provoked an SFWA boycott) and that Pohl be fired from at least one of his magazines.  This, Spinrad asserts, will create more slots, which will encourage more writers, which will generate audience demand, which will promote the creation of more short length outlets, whether magazines or paperbacks.

A name Spinrad does not specifically mention as having a pet policy is Ed Ferman, editor of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  Ferman is fairly new to the job, and F&SF has typically cast a wider net to gather its stories.  There are also more slots per issue, as F&SF tends toward shorter pieces.

I would thus conclude that, if any place in science fiction would still offer a quality selection of stories, it would be F&SF.  They can, after all, print the best of the best that the 250 SFWAers can offer.

Let's open up this month's F&SF and see if that be the case.

Off the slush pile


by Richard Corben

Out of Time, Out of Place, by George Collyn

The lead piece is by a fellow we normally see in mags on the other side of the pond (Spinrad did not mention the UK mags as potential markets, but to be fair, there's only one left).  Collyn's tale features a spaceman returned from a fifty year voyage to find the world completely changed.  He is but ten years aged thanks to relativity, and so he is a young, lonely man utterly divorced from society.

But one day, he finds the most extraordinary woman, and they marry and live in bliss.  Until he discovers what she does for a living, and how it relates to an advance in mass media technology called "altrigo"…

The problem with this story, aside from the disturbing ending, is that it's just been done by Kate Wilhem in her piece, Baby, you were great!, which just appeared in Orbit 2.  Thus, I knew what was coming miles early.  Very distracting.

Three stars.

The Cyclops Juju, by I. Shamus Frazer

The next two stories involve African magic clashing with Westerners.  I'm always leery of such tales.  They smack of parochialism and usually hinge on a pretty narrow idea of what goes on in the vast continent that straddles the equator.  Neither of these pieces disabused me of this view.

Juju takes place in an English boarding school.  One of the students has brought a wooden statue of a cyclops, apparently modeled on the prow of an old slaver ship and worshiped as a totem by an African tribe.  All of the students who sleep in the same room with it begin experiencing a sequential dream, that they are captive slaves on the ship who break free and land on an island with the slaver crew as captives.  Over time, the totem exerts greater and greater control over the students until it is uncertain what is dream and what is reality.

Of course, stories like this depend on willful ignorance on the part of the authority figures so things can get sufficiently out of hand.  In the end, this is a reasonably well told horror/fantasy that feels like it would have done well in a prior decade.  It feels out of touch here.

Three stars.

Night of the Leopard, by William Sambrot

Faring worse is this piece, involving missionaries sent to Sierra Leone on a peace-corps-esque endeavor.  Opposing them is a witch doctor with a draconian control over a starving village and the putative ability to turn into a leopard.  The linchpin to defeating him is Eunice Gantly, an American of African extraction (specifically Masai).  The witch doctor's attempts to seduce and subvert Eunice end up backlashing.  The result is pure Twilight Zone corn.

The problems with this story are several-fold.  For one, it was done before, and better, by Richard Matheson in 1960.  For this same magazine.  Moreover, I take umbrage at the idea that people have these racial memories that can be unlocked.  And even then, Eunice and the witch doctor are as related as me (Eastern European Jew) and my wife (Western European mutt).  That is to say, we might be the same color, but I doubt our genetics have been within a thousand miles of each other.  The idea that all Africans, or even all Sub-Saharan Africans, belong to a single society is laughable and a bit offensive.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson — I think his feature does not better this magazine

The Saw and the Carpenter, by J. T. McIntosh

SF veteran McIntosh offers up this serviceable murder mystery: the son of a space station commander is murdered by a robot.  Since robots must be programmed, the culprit must be human.  A robot expert is sent to investigate.

The story is reasonably executed, even if the characters all have exotic names like "Bob" and "John" and "Lucy" (one wonders if they were placeholders the author forgot to modify).  The ending is…interesting.  Apparently, Asimov's Three "Laws" don't always apply.

Anyway, three stars.

A Thousand Deaths, by Jack London

Because there are so many writers submitting pieces to F&SF, it follows that the editor would run…a 70 year old reprint.  This early London tale is about a seaman who is subject to a hideous series of experiments in resurrection.  Captive of a mad scientist, said sailor is murdered again and again, only to be brought back by a wonder process.  But is a life of dying really what you'd call living?

It's all very breathless and pre-pulp, and while fun to an extent, and valuable historically, I'm not sure I'd rather have it than a new story.

Three stars.

Donny Baby, by Susan Trott

A married couple, part of the avocado tree crowd, have a baby the same day their seed finally sprouts.  The sapling and the infant seem to have intertwined lives.

Had I read this as I was putting together Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1953-1957), I might have given it three stars.  Ten years after the fact, I'm afraid it merits just two.

The Great Borning, by Isaac Asimov

The science article by Dr. A is something of a highlight.  I had grown up with all of the names of the geological eras, periods, epochs, etc., but I'd never grasped their meaning.  This is an informative etymological piece.

Four stars.

A Secret from Hellas, by I. Yefremov

Finally, another reprint, though it is probably more accurate to call it an import.  A sculptor feels compelled to make a particular kind of statue, though he is hampered by an injury to his hand sustained in the war.  This piece bears some kinship with the African duo earlier in the piece, although the dreamscape and racial memories in this tale are of Greek origin rather than African.

It is the definition of forgettable but inoffensive.  Three stars.

Throw it back

One of Spinrad's points was not only that writers can't find enough short story slots to make a living, but that writers are so discouraged that they aren't even trying to write SF short stories anymore.  I suppose that could be the explanation why the once proud Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction is reduced to publishing tired clichés and reprints.

But it's a chicken and egg thing, right?  If there's no supply of good stories, demand wanes.  Once demand wanes, how do you build it back up?  Maybe Damon Knight has found the answer with his Orbit series.  It may well be time to think about new media for shorter pieces.  I think I'd rather have several paperbacks of excellent stuff than a dozen issues of mediocrity.  Sure, I'll miss the attendant quirks of each publication — the science articles, the lettercols, the editorial comments, etc., but I think I'd rather just have the good stories and save the auxilary stuff for fanzines and Scientific American.

What do you think?



Better stories from the heyday of science fiction magazines can be found in the two Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women volumes.  Highly recommended!




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[August 8, 1967] Distant Signals (September 1967 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Rock Around the Clock

If any more proof is needed that rock 'n' roll now dominates the American popular music scene, here it is: a couple of days ago, radio station KMPX in San Francisco (106.9 on your FM dial, for those of you near the city by the bay) started playing a wide variety of rock music (as opposed to the usual Top Forty hits) twenty-four hours a day. As far as I know, it's the first station in the USA to do so.


Tom "Big Daddy" Donahue, programming director for KMPX.

I live a very long way from Frisco, so I won't be able to pick up their signal.

Appropriately, the lead story in the latest issue of Fantastic features the inability to establish contact over a vast distance as a major plot point. As we'll see, other stories in the magazine also deal with difficulties in communication.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul.

As usual, the image on the front is taken from an old magazine. In this case, it's the back cover of the January 1941 issue of Amazing Stories.


The reprinted version omits the pink flamingo in the bottom right corner.

The Longest Voyage, by Richard C. Meredith


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

Three spaceships carry the first astronauts to Jupiter. Incredibly bad luck strikes the mission. Freak accidents destroy two of the vessels and badly damage the third, leaving only one person alive. Seriously injured, the fellow faces a slow and lonely death.

It seems the crippled ship is now in orbit around Jupiter. The sole survivor has enough food, water, and air to last many years, but no way to contact Earth. (As I've indicated above, he's as far out of range as I am with KMPX.) Can our intrepid hero find a way to make his way back?


He also grows a beard.

This technological problem-solving story would be right at home in the pages of Analog. The protagonist makes use of some basic science and a lot of tinkering to overcome a seemingly impossible dilemma.

It's pretty well written for this kind of thing. The author really made me feel the character's suffering and desperation. I'm not sure I believe that a future society advanced enough to send spaceships to the far reaches of the solar system wouldn't figure out a way to talk to them. Without that plot point, the story would boil down to the hero sending out an SOS and waiting for rescue.

Three stars.

Same Autumn in a Different Park, by Peter Tate


Illustration also by Gray Morrow; he seems to be the only artist doing new work for the magazine.

Remarkably, this issue actually has two new stories. This one comes from a Welsh author usually seen in New Worlds. As you might expect, it has more than a little flavor of New Wave SF to it.

In another example of limited communication, a mother and father only talk to each other via teletype. In this grim future, the authorities have decided that the way to prevent violence is to have children raised apart from their parents. For that matter, the boy and girl in the story don't have any contact with anyone except each other and the machines that watch over them.

The devices give the children dolls representing the victims of nuclear war and a sample weapon, in an attempt to warn them about the horrors of violence. It's no surprise that this idea doesn't work out very well.

Typical of the New Wave, this story isn't as clear or linear as I may have made it sound. You have to read carefully and be patient to understand it. The premise is more effective as dark satire than as plausible speculation.

There's a strange scene in which the girl turns into a bird made from a hedge, through some kind of technological miracle. This weird transformation doesn't seem to have anything to do with the rest of the story, unless I'm missing something. It's a striking image, anyway.

This is an intriguing work, but one more to be admired than loved, I believe.

Three stars.

The Green Splotches, by T. S. Stribling

From the January 3, 1920 issue of Adventure comes this early example of interplanetary science fiction.


I'm guessing the cover artist's name is H. Tidlie, but maybe somebody with sharper eyes can make out the signature better than I can.

It was reprinted in the March 1927 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul, of course.

The magazine is careful to tell me twice that Stribling went on to win a Pulitzer Prize after he lifted himself out of the pulps. For the record, it was for his 1932 work The Store, a novel about the southern United States after the time of Reconstruction.


Illustration by somebody called Gambee, about whom I have no other information.

A scientific expedition heads for a remote area of Peru. The place has a very bad reputation. So much so, in fact, that the only locals willing to guide them there are two condemned criminals who would otherwise face execution.

The first eerie sign that something strange is going on comes when they find a series of carefully articulated skeletons of various animals, including a human being. Pretty soon, one of the two criminals shoots at and chases after somebody, disappearing in the process.

The others receive a visit from a strange person, who treats them as inferior beings. You'll figure things out, from the illustration if nothing else, although the human characters never do.

Although it's a little old-fashioned (this is one of those stories where radium is pretty much a synonym for magic), this is a very readable yarn. What most distinguishes it is a subtle note of satire. Although not comic, and sometimes even horrific, there's a sardonic tone throughout. There's a running joke, of sorts, about the expedition's reporter and his self-published book about reindeer.

Three stars.

The Ivy War, by David H. Keller, M.D.

The May 1930 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this Kelleryarn.


Cover art by Leo Morey.

An aggressive, swift-moving, deadly form of ivy emerges from a pit and overwhelms a small town. Soon the seemingly intelligent plant invades larger cities, moving from place to place via water. Can anything stop it?


Illustration by Leo Morey also.

This reads like a science fiction monster movie of the last decade, with ivy taking the place of a giant bug or some such. It's even got one of those endings where Science discovers the only thing that will stop the menace. There's not much to it other than the premise. For what it is, it's adequate.

Three stars.

Beware the Fury, by Theodore Sturgeon

From the April 1954 issue of the magazine comes this work from one of the masters of imaginative fiction.


Cover art by Augusto Marin.

An astronaut seems to have betrayed Earth to invading aliens, making him the most hated human being in existence. A military type has the unenviable task of interviewing the traitor's wife, in an attempt to understand his actions. He learns of the man's unusual personality quirks, and of the couple's very strange marriage. With this knowledge, he tracks down the fellow when he returns to Earth and goes into hiding.


Illustration by Louis Priscilla.

I may have made this sound like a space war yarn, and there's certainly that aspect to the plot. However, the psychology of the characters is of much greater importance than the melodramatic aspects of the story. Sturgeon excels at this sort of thing, of course.

Four stars.

No Charge for Alterations, by H. L. Gold

The former editor of Galaxy offers this work from the April/May 1953 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Barye Phillips.

A doctor arrives on a colony world to study under a local physician. Medical technology exists that can change the patient not only physically, but mentally.


Interior illustrations by Henry Sharp.

He's shocked to see his mentor use the device to alter the mind of a young woman so she'll give up her dream of moving to Earth and becoming an entertainer, and instead be happy to do farm labor and raise children.


The After, in contrast to the above Before.

The new arrival decides to escape what he sees as an insane perversion of medicine and go back to Earth.  The local doctor contacts the retired physician under whom he studied, in an attempt to keep the new guy from leaving.  He learns something about his own time as a student.

I suppose this is supposed to be an ironic tale, maybe even humorous.  I found the premise distasteful.  The way in which the young woman at the start of the story is brainwashed to be a content farm wife is rationalized as being necessary to support the colony, but it gave me the creeps.

Two stars.

Signal to Noise Ratio

Well, that was a middle-of-the-road issue, rising above and sinking below average in a couple of places, but otherwise mediocre.  It's notable not only for having two new stories, but for having only science fiction and no fantasy.  The whole thing is like a radio station subject to bits of static now and then; worth tuning in for a while, but tempting you to turn the dial to something else.  Something like a corny pun, that may amuse you for a while, but otherwise forgettable.


Like this one, from the same issue as the Sturgeon story, by somebody known only as Frosty.

Still, while I may not be able to tune in to KMPX, I can at least turn the dial to the similarly formatted KGJ. That's some comfort!






[August 2, 1967] The Bounds of Good Taste (September 1967 IF)


by David Levinson

A diplomatic incident

In the Treaty of Paris of 1763, which ended the Seven Years War, France abandoned her claims to territory in what is today Canada (among others) in order to keep richer colonies in the Caribbean. Britain allowed her new subjects in Quebec to keep their language and religion, likely to keep them from making common cause with the fractious colonies along the Atlantic seaboard. Since then, there has been a strong undercurrent of nationalism among the French-speaking Québécois. Enter French President Charles de Gaulle.

Canada has extended an open invitation to representatives of countries exhibiting at the Expo 67 world’s fair. Last month, de Gaulle came to visit. The Canadian government was a little concerned. France hadn’t sent a representative to the funeral of Governor General Georges Vanier, who had been a personal friend of de Gaulle, or to the 50th anniversary ceremonies commemorating the Canadian victory at Vimy in the Great War. Rather than flying in to the Canadian capital Ottawa, de Gaulle arrived directly in Quebec City aboard a French naval vessel and went on to Montreal from there, with crowds cheering him along the way. He arrived on July 24th, and delivered an unscheduled speech from the balcony of the Montreal City Hall. He concluded by shouting “Vive le Québec libre!” (“Long live free Québec!”) and the crowd roared in approval.

President de Gaulle with foot firmly in mouth.

The next day, Prime Minister Lester Pearson issued an official rebuke, declaring that “Canadians do not need to be liberated” and pointing out that many Canadians died in the liberation of France. Justice Minister Pierre Trudeau wondered what the French reaction would be to the Canadian Prime Minister shouting “Brittany to the Bretons!” Even the French papers were critical. Meanwhile, de Gaulle visited the Expo and hosted a banquet at the French pavilion. The following day, he boarded a French military jet and flew home rather than making his scheduled visit to Ottawa. Whether this was deliberate interference in another country’s domestic affairs or just de Gaulle being de Gaulle, we’ll have to wait to see what the fallout may be.

Walking the line

Apropos of today's lede, at least one story in this month’s IF is about crossing or challenging the lines of what is in good taste. A couple more do that themselves.

This alien dude ranch has become a popular honeymoon spot. Art by Gray Morrow

The Fortunes of Peace, by C. C. MacApp

“Taintless” Wend, Earthborn but now stateless, is a trader operating just past the edge of human space. He’s been captured by the Kyshan pirate Junnabl, who has a plan to get his hands on an abandoned Terran Space Force cache. Wend doesn’t expect Junnabl to let him go with his share, but he has a few connections that might help.

Wend is in trouble, but ready for Junnabl’s men. Art by Virgil Finlay

When he’s not writing about Gree or trying to be funny, MacApp is a decent writer. This is basically an adventure story, but there’s some science-fictional stuff with a monstrous gravity well caused by the “bone” of a dead star, and the protagonist is more of an antihero. It’s not a story that will stick with you, but it’s a good read.

Three stars.

Bride Ninety-One, by Robert Silverberg

In Silverberg's newest piece, contract marriages are the norm, and marriages with aliens are the fad, so Paul Clay has entered a six-month marriage to Landy, a Suvornese. They’ve agreed to follow Terran mores, which leads to more than a few misunderstandings.

This silly piece of fluff seems to exist solely for its mildly suggestive “humorous” ending. The accepted Terran mores feel like they’re from a decade or more ago, not the far future. Some of that may be due to Landy using bad sources, since Paul is often confused by her, but even his attitudes feel a bit old-fashioned. Well-written but pointless.

A low three stars.

To Serve the Masters, by Perry A. Chapdelaine

'Genetic' (the character's name–people are known only by their function) is the end product of over 200 generations of selective breeding by the Masters. We follow his career from childhood to being taken to the Masters’ homeworld for the fulfillment of his millennia of breeding. Maybe the Masters should have couched their request more carefully.

Genetic receives the high honor of conferring directly with a Master. Art by Gaughan

Here is this month’s offering from a new author. It’s not bad, though it is overly long. We could have done with less detail about the alien genetics that inspire our protagonist, and I’m not sure I can really accept most of the premise. But Chapdelaine shows promise and more from him would not be amiss.

A very low three stars.

Venus Smiles, by J. G. Ballard

The community of Vermilion Sands has commissioned a sonic sculpture from a local artist. Unfortunately, everyone hates it; it’s ugly and plays eastern-style quarter tones nobody likes. A member of the Fine Arts Committee moves it to his garden, where it eventually starts playing late Romantic composers. But then it starts to grow.

As I understand it, this is largely a rewrite of Ballard’s “Mobile”, which appeared in Science Fantasy a decade ago, moving the action to Vermilion Sands and maybe adding some other things. By Ballard’s standards, this is a much more conventional story than he tends to produce these days, with only the unexplained growth of the statue being truly weird. I’m not a fan of Ballard, but others may get more out of this than I did.

Three stars.

Friday at the Fanoclasts, by Lin Carter

Our Man in Fandom takes us to a “typical” meeting of his club, though it sounds more like a party. There’s a lot of namedropping, though I was interested to hear that Alexei Panshin is looking for a publisher for a critical study of the works of Robert Heinlein. Carter also tells us that the Fanoclasts aren’t big on organization and structure. Given they’re the ones putting on this year’s Worldcon, I’m not sure that bodes well.

Three stars.

A Bowl Bigger Than Earth, by Philip José Farmer

Awakening from his deathbed, Morfiks finds himself in a hairless, sexless body sliding down the frictionless slope of a gigantic brass bowl. He is flung out the other side and lands in a river, from which he is fished out and taken to a city of brass. There, no one has a name, all are equal, and all are punished for any infraction unless the wrongdoer confesses. Everyone also studiously avoids mentioning just where it is they are.

A typical Gaughan abstract for a typical Farmer story. Art by Gaughan

As usual, Farmer gives us an interesting set-up and no real pay-off. I found the ending unpleasant and rather tasteless. In my review of Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”, I noted that Harlan didn’t wallow in the ugliness he showed us. Farmer wallows.

Two stars.

Faust Aleph-Null (Part 2 of 3), by James Blish

Weapons manufacturer Baines has contracted the services of black magician Theron Ware. Following the successful death of Governor Rogan of California, Baines has arrived at Ware’s Italian villa at Christmas time, along with his executive assistant Jack Ginsberg and company scientist Adolph Hess. Also present is Father Domenico of the white monks of Monte Albano, sent by his superiors as an observer in accordance with the Grand Covenant.

Baines’ next target is scientist Albert Stockhausen. Because Stockhausen is a good man, his death will require greater magic than Rogan’s. Ware enlists Baines and his two companions to aid in the summoning of the demon Marchosias. Once the scientist is dead, Baines reveals his true goal: he wants all the demons of Hell released to walk the Earth for 24 hours. That’s more than Ware can manage, but he should be able to produce 50 or so. However, he will need the help not only of Baines and his men, but also Fr. Domenico. The date of the experiment is set for Easter. To be concluded.

Marchosias appears in the first of several forms. Art by Gray Morrow.

Not much happens here. There’s a subplot about Ginsberg and a succubus, but apart from the summoning, this installment consists of more people sitting around talking than a Heinlein novel. And while a lot of it is interesting, I’m not sure it’s necessary. The first two installments could easily have been condensed to a medium-length story. Much of the rest feels like Blish showing off the depth of his research.

Three stars.

Invader, by Harl Vincent

Chuck Radford awakens to the sensation of something attaching itself to the back of his neck. Meanwhile on Tau Ceti II, the mind of Princess Arla has fled, and Prince Bor’s mind must be sent after her. Chuck and his partner receive an unexpected windfall and decide on sudden vacations, with Chuck uncharacteristically picking Las Vegas as his destination. After an incredible run of luck, he wins just enough to pay off the debts of the troubled Jan Jones, whom he then rescues from a mysterious gunman.

Chuck’s most amazing skill is the ability to deliver a roundhouse kick in an elevator. Art by Vaughn Bodé

Harl Vincent was a pretty big name before the War, big enough to be chosen to do a round-robin story with the likes of Murray Leinster, Doc Smith and Stanley Weinbaum. As you can tell from the recap, the bones of this story are pretty pulpy. The writing, on the other hand, feels more modern; nothing special, just not the heavy slog of something from 30 years ago. If I have a real complaint, it’s that the gunman is never adequately explained. It was otherwise an enjoyable trifle.

Three stars.

Summing up

Another C to C- issue. There’s some forgettable fun and some stuff that’s sure to upset Mrs. Grundy and maybe even those less easily offended. (I certainly didn’t expect to find a term for an artificial phallus in IF, and I’m not sure that’s what Blish meant.) I miss the heady days of the March issue or wish for at least one stand-out story.

An oceanic theme from Clement. I wonder if this is related to Raindrop or The Mechanic.






[July 31, 1967] Canceling waves (August 1967 Analog)


by Gideon Marcus

Phase shift

Every science fiction magazine has a stable of regular contributors.  Maybe there just aren't enough good writers to fill a magazine otherwise.  Perhaps it's a reflection of the conservative tendency to stick with what works.  Occasionally, you'll see a mag make an effort to recruit new talent, with mixed results.  Others, like Analog are famously steady.

Thus, it is usually with a heavy sigh that I open each new issue of John Campbell's mag.  It's not that his stable is bad per se.  But reading the same authors, month in and month out can get monotonous.  Also, because they are guaranteed spots, quality can be somewhat, shall we say, variable.

On the other hand, that variability means that it's rare that any single issue of Analog is all bad (or all good).  August 1967 Analog is no exception, with the bad turns being more than counteracted by the good ones.  Throw in an excellent science fact article from a newcomer, and this issue is one of the better mags of the month.

Interference pattern


by Chesley Bonestell

Starfog, by Poul Anderson

The latest Poul Anderson story inspired by a lovely Chesley Bonestell painting (this one of a planet around a red supergiant), is pretty neat.  The Makt, an incredibly primitive hyperdrive ship, makes planetfall at the farflung human colony of Serieve.  The crew are human, though of a somewhat radical type, far more resistant to radiation than baseline homo sapiens, and with a taste for arsenic salt.  More remarkable, they claim that their homeworld, Kirkasant, lives in another universe.  This universe is just a few hundred light years across, and jam packed with bright young stars.

Ranger Daven Laure and his sapient ship, Jaccavrie, are dispatched to Serieve to deduce just where Kirkasant is, and, if possible, to get the crew of the Makt home.  Easier said than done — how does one go looking for a pocket universe?  And if it posssess the properties described, then navigation in that electromagnetic hell would be virtually impossible.


by John Schoenherr

This is one of those highly technical stories that Anderson likes, but done with sufficient characterization that it doesn't require the Winston P. Sanders (Winnie the Pooh) alias that Anderson's lesser works go under.  Laure's solution to finding Kirkasant requires a bit too much overt hiding from the audience, but it is pretty clever, at least in a society of libertarian worlds motivated by little more than personal profit (a society that does make sense, in the context portrayed).

Four stars.

Babel II, by Christopher Anvil


by Rudolph Palais

Chris Anvil, on the other hand, is at a low ebb.  This piece is less of a story than a series of examples of how technical speak makes advanced technology all but inaccessible to anyone but the most arcane experts.  I suppose this is a point to be made, but I disagree with the conclusion that a user of technology must know everything about the technology.  That is, after all, the whole point of the new programming language, BASIC.  One can avail themselves of the nearest Big Iron computer and make sophisticated calculations without having the first clue how to IPL an operating system from a DASD.

Two stars.

The Misers, by William T. Powers

This month's science article is unusually excellent.  It's about the latest advances in digital imaging for astronomy, and how it might someday supplant the astronomical photograph.  Chatty and engaging, but not dumbed down, its only sin is length.  To be fair, there is a lot to cover.

Five stars.  An invaluable resource.

The Featherbedders, by Frank Herbert


by Leo Summers

Here's a real surprise: a Frank Herbert story I unreservedly like!

The Slorin are shapeshifters bent on infiltrating Earth's society for possibly sinister, but mostly benign purpose.  When a scattership breaks up before it can safely land, two members of the crew, Smeg and his son, Rick, go off looking for a rogue comrade who has gone native.

And how.  Using his mind control powers, this renegade has taken up residence in a small Southern town as a sheriff, maintaining order with an iron fist, thought control, and the use of hostages.  But when Smeg finally confronts the sheriff, he encounters an even deeper secret — one that threatens the entire Slorin operation.

Aside from the final twist, which I found a little superfluous, the only other off-putting issue is the use of the exact same poem that ends this month's F&SF story, Bugs.  One wonders if the poem was prominently featured a few months ago or something.

But all of Herbert's typical tics, including copious italics and ever-shifting viewpoints, are completely absent from the piece.  It's light rather than ponderous, but not overly frivolous.  I'd not have been surprised to find it in the pages of Galaxy in the first half of the last decade (when that magazine was at its zenith).

Four stars.

Cows Can't Eat Grass, by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond


by Kelly Freas

Galactic Surveryor Harry Gideon (great surname, by the way) is marooned on a planet that should have killed him.  Somehow, he has managed to find sufficient edible foods to sustain himself until relief arrives.  But all of their tests show the alien life to be completely toxic.  What's Gideon's secret?

The Richmond combo has produced some of the worst stuff Analog's printed, but they've gotten better of late (and I quite enjoyed their first book, Shockwave.  This latest piece is on the good end of things.

Three stars.

Depression or Bust, by Mack Reynolds


by Leo Summers

Reynolds, on the other hand, offers up another one of his history lessons wrapped in a throwaway story.  When Marvin and Phoebe Sellers decide to return their brand new freezer, it starts a chain that results in a national depression.  The only way to fix it is by reversing the trigger.

This is not only a rather pointless piece, it is so clumsily exaggerated, the characters made of straw (the President has never heard of the Depression, and it must be explained to him by an adviser).  And Reynolds can't help making a dig at Indians.  Reynolds has an issue with Indians.

One star.

Plugging in the oscilloscope

What have we got?  Two clunkers, one decent piece, and two good long ones, not to mention a great article.  That puts us at 3.2 on the star-o-meter.  Not bad at all! That barely beats out Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.2) and roundly trounces Galaxy (2.9), IF (2.8), Famous Science Fiction #1 (2.7), Famous Science Fiction #2 (2.4), and Amazing (2.4).

Only New Worlds (3.3) and Famous Science Fiction #3 (3.4) score higher.

For those keeping score, women wrote 9% of the new fiction pieces this month (including all the back issues of Famous). 

Last week, I wondered if a copy of a copy could be better than the original.  Thus far, it looks like the answer is no.  Keep it up, Analog!





[July 28, 1967] The Shock of the New – Rabbits, Hedgehogs and Kazoos (New Worlds, August 1967)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After last month’s impressive resurrection of New Worlds, I’m quite intrigued this month to see whether editor Mike Moorcock’s vision of the future of British science fiction magazines can be upheld. Let’s go to the issue!


They say "sex sells". This may be the reason for this cover! Cover by Eduardo Paolozzi

This month’s “Leading Article” is one of those that examines an idea – not always related to science fiction, at least not at first. This month the connection seems obtuse, about creativity and theories of art by focusing on the work of Anton Ehrenzweig.


Again, I think we’re aiming at the new readers drawn to New Worlds by the Art Council rather than by science fiction.


Mind-bending Art meets Philosophy!

It does make you think, though, even if I feel that it is a little too introspective myself. I could be wrong, but this does not feel like a Moorcock editorial, but perhaps rather an Associate Editor Langdon Jones article.

Camp Concentration (Part 2 of 4) by Thomas M. Disch


Illustration by Zoline. This makes sense in the story, honest!

And so to the continuation of the big event story.

A quick recap. Conscientious objector Louis Sacchetti has been imprisoned in Camp Archimedes and given the task by prison commander Humphery Haast of observing other prisoners who are being experimented upon by Doctor Aimee Busk. The group are being given an experimental drug, Pallidine, which will hopefully improve intelligence.

We left the story last time where one of the prisoners, George Wagner, had become ill during a camp performance of Faustus. The group’s ringleader, Modecai Washington, had explained to Louis that the drug only gives them months to live.

Continuing this month, Louis, inspired by the revelation that the prisoners will die, is spurred on to write after months of writer’s block. George Wagner dies. There is a funeral. Sacchetti is admonished by Busk for using the prison library to do a little research of his own.

We discover that Pallidine is a spirochate bug, in actual fact the initiator of syphilis. In the past syphilis has been known to cause madness before death, something which Sacchetti is made very aware of. With this in mind, much of the story becomes increasingly bizarre as the effects of the virus on the infected person’s brain takes hold.

Mordecai’s infection is clearly very advanced and Louis spends much of the beginning of this story listening to Mordecai explaining how little time he has left and explaining how the cumulative effects of syphilis progress, in some vivid detail. This is emphasised by the point that Mordecai has three ‘familiars’ – rabbits infected with the disease – because the effects of Pallidine on rabbits are the same as humans, but happen much faster. (This also explains the strange pencil illustrations of rabbits seen over these two first parts.)

The intense intellectual discussions and the increasingly surreal events he experiences inspire Louis’s writing of a play entitled Auschwitz: A Comedy, which he describes as “fantastic”.

However much of the last part of the story describes Sacchetti’s observation of the prison performance of Faustus – a very odd, quasi-religious performance, involving camp commander Haast as a Messianic figure wearing a 'crown of thorns' made up from an electrocardiograph machine on stage. Before the performance reaches its ending though, Mordecai dies.

That night Louis has strange yet vivid dream of a conversation with Saint Thomas Aquinas. As a result, upon waking, he realises that he is as much of a prisoner as the other inmates.

Shocked yet? You’re meant to be.

In a lot of ways, this second part of the story continues what happened in Part One, but in understandably more extreme ways. The decay of the physical body and the brain, combined with the increasingly bizarre degeneration of the mind, is quite well done, although this means that much of the plot is pseudo-intellectual talk, lengthy yet meaningful diatribes and random navel-gazing. We have much talk of philosophers and art, alchemy, James Joyce and religion as the disease takes hold.

Consequently, I found that much of this part of the story was intellectual fluff and provocative imagery that, although interesting, did little to progress things. It was challenging and thoughtful, yes, but also long-winded and even a little dull. It felt more like a university philosophy lecture than anything else, rather like the author was showing off his knowledge rather than portraying anything of actual purpose.

Don’t get me wrong, Camp Concentration is still fascinating and often gripping, even as it becomes increasingly odd and remains incessantly downbeat. I’m still interested to see how this continues in the next issue. 4 out of 5.

The Green Wall Said by Gene Wolfe

And now a much shorter and simpler story from a new author to me, American Gene Wolfe. This is a story of aliens abducting humans to ask for help. I found it to be an interesting one in that I think it is written in a style that shows a slightly different take on what is now seen as British New Wave.

It is "cut-up", having two narrative threads running side-by-side, but more linear and more straightforward than say, the works of Disch and Ballard. As a result, it is more memorable for me. I like the ambiguity of the ending! I would be interested to read more from this writer. 3 out of 5.

Article: Language Mechanisms by Christopher Finch

This month’s ‘arty’ article (artycle?) examines the work of sculptor Eduardo Paolozzi, a person I was not aware of before reading this article but makes fascinating reading here. Paolozzi seems to integrate inspirations from wide-ranging sources such as writer William Burroughs, the Dadaism movement and philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, which fit right into the sort of material the magazine is currently writing about. Lots of pictures too, to illustrate.

I’d be interested to hear what other readers make of this as part of New Worlds though. Is this something that is genuinely new and adds to the magazine’s appeal, or is it instead a case of the artist disappearing into a self-imposed balloon of introspection? Putting it simpler: is it mind-blowing or just self-obsessed clap-trap with delusions of grandeur? And does it deserve a place in New Worlds? One I might need to think about more myself. 4 out of 5.

Kazoo by James Sallis

A new writer to me, writing here in a faux-hip style that seems both terribly new and yet terribly dated at the same time. Reminds me of Samuel R. Delany, William S. Burroughs and Anthony Burgess – deliberately, I think – with its made-up language and hipster-style prose.

It seems like a day in the life of Ferdinand Turnip, and uses John Lennon-eque turns of phrase to describe a set of strange events. Turnip is first attacked on an urban street, but then the two agree to have lunch. He then goes to the blood bank, joins in with a street band, (Guess what – he plays a kazoo) goes to his artist’s studio and drinks turpentine, then meets his partner Bella who breaks up with him. I’m fairly sure the last line is meant to be an ‘amusing’ double-entendre, but it’s difficult for me to tell, if I’m honest.

It’s OK as a stylistic piece, although tries too hard to be clever for me. But at least it is a little different from what all the other stories seem to be trying this month. One for the hip cats, which I am clearly not. 3 out of 5.


No, I don't know what this means, either!

Mars Pastorale, Or, I’m Fertile, Said Felix by Peter Tate

Allegorical tale about the self-aware growth of a plant juxtaposed with the story of Felix Jimpson, and his partner Velvet, recently arrived on Mars. I could be wrong, but it seems to be about the dichotomy between modern technology and nature on Mars.

Perhaps best summed up with a quote from the story: “What else is a poet or any other writer except a hedgehog trying to find a voice to yell at oncoming death?” which will either intrigue you or make you want to run for the hills. It is so ridiculous it makes me think that the story is meant to be satire.

Another deliberately obtuse, rather pretentiously symbolic tale. I may have read the satire wrong, but generally it seems to be trying too hard and worse, it feels like it has been done before. 2 out of 5.

Multi Value Motorway by Brian Aldiss

Another interesting experiment from Brian as he continues to channel his inner-Ballard. This feels like part of a story, more so when I realised that it involved Colin Charteris, who I last encountered in Just Passing Through, a story in the February issue of SF Impulse . It continues the idea that much of Europe has experienced psychedelic drugs as a result of Russia dropping hallucinogenic bombs in the Acid Head War. Last time it was about Charteris’s experiences of Western Europe. This time it is a splintered story of Charteris’s travels around the English Midlands, observing pop culture, teenagers, sex and motorway crashes creating art, and ending with Charteris becoming Saint Charteris, a god-like personality that is worshipped and adored. Perhaps best described as “If Aldiss wrote Ballard”, or perhaps more fittingly, “If Ballard wrote Aldiss”, as it is less cut-up than J.G.’s usual work.

Still intriguing, though, even if it feels like only part of a story. 4 out of 5.

Article: New Directions in Medicine by Brig.-Gen. Thomas H. Crouch

Another article, this time on how new science, often developed by the military, has led to innovations being taken up in the wider world.

Laser beams for surgery! Robotic prosthetics! Velcro closure tape! I found it interesting to read how new ideas are becoming generally available in the real world.

Science fiction is often seen as “the fiction that predicts the future”, and this article seems to confirm that (even if I think that it's not always true, myself!) I suspect that we will see most of these being commonly used in the future. 4 out of 5.

Concentrate 1 by Michael Butterworth

Michael Butterworth has appeared in New Worlds before, last time in October 1966 with The Steel Corkscrew. His work seems to be liked because it is different, and so is this. Concentrate 1 is more of a prose poem than prose or a poem, a mercifully short piece on – well, I’m not sure what. More seemingly disjointed ramblings, with some nicely written prose but deliberately no linear narrative. I understand that his writing is popular, but I still can’t shake the general feeling that the author wants to be Ballard and is not as good. This month’s “not for me” piece. 2 out of 5.

Book Reviews

The detailed review this month is by already-mentioned author Thomas M. Disch, of Harry Mathews’s Tlooth. (No, I hadn’t heard of it either.) Despite Disch’s claims that his enthusiasm for Mathews’s work borders on the “evangelical”, and his thoughtful and detailed analysis of this novel, I was less impressed. The book sounds very Disch-like, and I can see why he likes it, although I feel that it is not something I want to spend time with.

Brian Aldiss reviews Jeremy Seabrooks’s social history novel The Unprivileged. No, I’ve not heard of that one, either, but Aldiss seems impressed with the honest telling of the history of the Seabrook family from 1779, although it does sound to be filled with poverty, punishment and hardship.

Elsewhere James Cawthorn reviews Norman Spinrad’s story of cannibalism in The Men in the Jungle, Fritz Leiber’s “erotic interlude” The Wanderer, the “admirable” The Best from Fantasy & SF 16 and the “dull” Extrapolasis by Alexander Malec.

Summing up New Worlds

Another good issue on the new magazine that is New Worlds. Whilst John Sladek’s Masterton and the Clerks, advertised last month, hasn’t appeared, the Disch still impresses. It does not seem quite as strong as it started, but is still one of the most memorable stories I’ve read in years.

The rest seems to be settling down into this new format impressively. Science, art, philosophy – all are covered, although at the expense of fiction, perhaps. Regarding the fiction, I liked the Wolfe and can see how, like Disch and Sladek, this American author’s story may be influenced by this British New Wave.

However, many of the stories in this issue feel like variations of the same style, echoing Ballard and the like, and as a result the issue’s fiction is more demanding to read than many earlier issues, but less varied in style. Perhaps a little more worrying, what once gained traction by being new, original and shocking is now surprisingly less so, with the influence of Burroughs and Ballard looming large and throughout. It is clear that the editor and his assistants like what they publish – but do the readers?

As a reader, I can see that in future me not liking everything (or is that understanding everything?) in New Worlds is going to be a regular comment. However, at the moment there is enough to keep me better informed, interested and entertained – even if the new New Worlds feels more like a University magazine than an SF digest.

Until the next!



[July 24, 1967] Not Feelin’ Groovy (Famous Science Fiction #1-3)


by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

I guess it had to happen. I have reached the age of 34 and am annoyed by modern pop music. I should say this is one specific type. Not the experimental psychedelic sounds of Jimi Hendrix or Pink Floyd, nor the soulful songs of Gladys Knight or The Four Tops. No, I am referring to sickly sweet “flower music” that has come over from California.

Feelin Groovy Harper's Bizarre Album

I first noticed it with Jan & Dean’s Yellow Balloon, a song which makes nursery rhymes sound like The Rolling Stones.

Windy by The Association Single

This was followed by more creeping into the charts such as The Association apparently performing a weather forecast and Harper’s Bizarre doing two awful covers of already poor songs. Then the worst has now been appearing everywhere. Scott McKenzie’s San Francisco, which sounds less like a pop song as an advertising jingle for flora hats.

San Francisco by Scott McKenzie

So many of them are appearing on pirate radio now, apparently superseding the beats and blues sounds I have enjoyed over the last few years. Having to hear so many cloying horticultural tunes from groups like The Young Rascals, The Turtles and The Johnny Mann Singers, is enough to make anyone want to hide in the past.

Thankfully there is a new magazine just for that: Robert Lowndes' (of '50s magazine editing fame) new effort, Famous Science Fiction.

Famous Science Fiction

Famous is about 90% reprint and 10% new material. We are told the purpose is to bring to light pre-1938 stories that were well regarded but have since been out of print, whilst also bringing back an intermediate market for SF between Amazing and the comics.


Famous #1


Famous #1 Magazine Cover

The cover is not an original Finlay, rather a colourisation of a piece from 1962’s Amazing.

Original Image from 1962 Amazing
Artwork by Virgil Finlay

The Girl in the Golden Atom by Ray Cummings

Ray Cummings story is his first and indeed was well known. However, it has been reprinted many times.

Printings of Girl in the Golden Atom

It first appeared in All-Story Weekly in 1919 and most recently in the collection The Giant Anthology of Science Fiction. Whilst this last reprint was thirteen years ago, it doesn’t feel as hard to find as Lowdnes seems to intend.

Anyway, it concerns a chemist (named merely The Chemist) who recites to his friends how he created a powerful microscope allowing him to see objects smaller than ever before. Looking inside a gold ring he finds a woman sitting inside a cave. He develops chemicals to shrink and grow himself so he can enter this microscopic world. From here it proceeds into an adventure tale as he must save her nation from destruction at the hands of an invading force.

Although it is important to acknowledge this story is almost fifty years old, this still feels old-fashioned for the time, more Victorian than Post-War in style. Also, even for the 1910s, the science is ridiculous. For example, the golden ring world resembles Earth because it comes from Earth, whilst Martian atoms would resemble Mars.

All of this would be tolerable if it weren’t so dull. Large sections are just spent with The Chemist explaining dull details and his friends ejaculating in surprise between puffs of cigars. Journey to the Centre of the Earth this is not!

Two stars…just.

The City of Singing Flame by Clark Ashton Smith

Smith fits Lowdnes’ brief better as, unlike fellow Weird Tales writers Howard and Lovecraft, his reprints have largely been restricted to a couple of Arkham House collections. That is, except for the Singing Flame stories!

Reprints of Smith's City of the Singing Flame

City of the Singing Flame first appeared in Gernsbeck’s Wonder Stories in July 1931. It was then combined with its sequel, from November of the same year, (see below) in Tales of Wonder in 1940 whereupon it became a regular reprint, up to Derleth’s The Other Side of The Moon, which you can still get in paperback today.

In the narrative, Hastane has received the journal of author Giles Angrath, who recently disappeared along with artist Felix Ebbonly. In the journal’s account, Angrath is walking near his cabin when he steps into a mysterious stone circle and is transported to another place. He begins to explore the strange new land, encountering the beings that dwell there and their Singing City.

Comparing this to Golden Atom, Singing Flame does everything right Cummings' story does wrong. Where Atom gets bogged down in technical gobbledygook, this is just willing to say it doesn’t understand, whereas the former creates an unimaginative repetition of our world, the latter is a work of colossal imagination, unlike any other I have read. And, most importantly, it is never dull.

Four stars

Voice of Atlantis by Laurence Manning

Wonder Stories Cover 1934

This comes from Wonder Stories in 1934, but I do not believe it has been reprinted. Congratulations, one out of three!

Clearly a fan of Manning, Lowndes has reprinted three others from this series in Magazine of Horror, where members of The Strangers Club tell each other unusual tales.

Volking tells of his experiments in telepathy, where he makes contact with a man from twenty thousand years in Earth’s past. This is a man from Atlantis, whose civilization was significantly more advanced than ours and is surprised by how savage we are today.

Erewhon by Samuel Butler Cover

This also feels very Victorian, reminding me of lost civilization tales like Erewhon. It should also be mentioned that even the characters note its style of using Socratic dialogue feels clumsy and the science is nonsensical. At least there is a kernel of some interesting ideas.

Two Stars

And now for the two new vignettes:

The Plague by George Henry Smith

In 2200, The Death Thing has come to a convent to claim the lives of eighteen young women. If Father Joseph does not accede to the request, all the children may be taken.

This is a dark and grim, if rather obvious tale. Like a combination of Killdozer and a Twilight Zone episode. However, the atmosphere raises it up a little.

Three Stars

The Question by J. Hunter Holly

Fifty years ago, the Vegans first encountered humanity. Humanity was told they would be allowed to join the family of intergalactic civilization if Earth could wipe out warfare. Since then, the World has strived to reach that goal, but will the Vegans be satisfied?

Well told story, if a little old fashioned and moralistic.

Three Stars

So, a mediocre start, with the one standout tale you can pick up elsewhere for a few shillings. But will it get better?


Famous #2


Famous #2 Cover

Another Finlay cover, this time from 1958’s Fantastic.

1958 Fantastic Reprint Cover
Artwork by Virgil Finlay

Inside Lowndes does better in his aims, with none of these stories appearing since first publication:

The Moon Menace by Edmond Hamilton

Weird Tales Cover from 1927

The first reprint comes from the September 1927 issue of Weird Tales, penned by the prolific, and still writing, Edmond Hamilton.

In The Moon Menace, Dr. Howard Gilbert, a famous but reclusive scientist, receives televisual signals from the Moon. Most other scientists doubt Gilbert’s findings but when the Earth is plunged into total darkness, he may be the world’s only hope.

It starts as a clear imitation of War of the Worlds and is a pretty standard invasion story. Whilst it may not be the most original work it has some interesting elements and readable enough to keep me engaged.

Three Stars

Dust by Wallace West

Although unpublished before, this was apparently rejected for Weird Tales publication some years ago.

Ralph Marvin of the Inquirer is writing up a story on how humanity may die out, but is it already here in the air we breathe?

A very didactic tale, one that could have been a science fact article. However, in spite of stylistic issues, it is a meaty subject that it is good to see addressed in fiction.

Three Stars

The White City by David H. Keller, M.D.

Amazing 1935 Reprint Cover

Taken from May 1935’s Amazing, Keller gives us yet another disaster yarn.

Farmer John Johnson decides to build a small holding in the slums of New York and live self-sufficiently. He becomes quite a sensation in the city as an eccentric, but when a terrible blizzard hits the Big Apple, he may be the one hope the world has.

This is an odd piece; for the majority it appears to just be the tall tale of an eccentric farmer. Then it takes a hard left turn into the kind of story you would see in the lowest of comic books.

Two Stars, mostly for curiosity value.

Rimghost by A. Bertram Chandler

The other new tale is a further outing for Chandler’s Rim stories, which we have been covering from the early days of the Journey to the most recent serial in If.

Mr. Willoughby joins a motley crew aboard the Rimgirl. However, something strange occurs, they encounter an exact duplicate of their ship, including its crew.

This spends far too much time for me running through all the characters and establishing connections to other stories such that the actual mystery is treated too abruptly. And, whilst the actual prose is solid, the misogynistic descriptions of Mary are poor.

A low Two Stars

Seeds from Space by Laurence Manning

Cover Wonder Stories 1935

And we finish with another visit to the Strangers Club, this one getting the cover of Wonder Stories for June 1935.

This time Col. Marsh tells of Blenkins who grows plants on his roof in Greenwich village. He plants some strange seeds in this garden and they grow into unusual tall plants. Eventually they walk into his apartment, telling him they are an intelligent species.

A reasonable story of sentient plant life, but it is less Day of the Triffids and more a forgettable tall tale.

Two Stars

So, whilst no complete blunders this issue, no stand outs either. Will third time be the charm?


Famous #3


Famous #3 Cover

Our final issue goes further back for its cover, from Science Stories in 1953.

Reprint Image from 1953's Science Stories
Artwork by Virgil Finlay

Beyond the Singing Flame by Clark Ashton Smith

This picks up after the publication of Angrath’s journal, where Hastane goes in search of the mysterious city. Within it he encounters even more wonders and what becomes of people who go through the flame.

I feel much the same about this sequel as I do about its antecedent. It is not so much a new idea and largely concerned with continuing exploration of this world, but Smith is such a marvelous wordsmith, the sense of awe pulls you along.

Four stars

A Single Rose by Jon DeCles

The only new fiction this issue. Silas Finnegan is a successful industrialist, who uses all his resources to make the one thing he always dreamed of, his very own unicorn. Of course, he then has to work out how to afford to keep it.

This piece seems to be aiming for something deeper about the nature of beauty, but I mostly just found it a pleasant little story about achieving childhood fantasies.

Three stars

Disowned by Victor Endersby

Astounding 1932 Coverr

This one comes from September 1932’s Astounding, although reads to me more like something I would expect in Weird Tales.

On a rainy night a party is caught in a storm and Tristan is struck by ball lightning. This causes Tristan’s gravity to be reversed and he is being pulled upwards towards the sky.

Disowned Artwork
Artwork by H. W. Wesso

This is very silly, not just in the science, but also in the circumstances which follow from it, with him living an upside-down life on the ceiling and doing circus acts.

One Star

The Last American by J. A. Mitchell

This is the earliest story so far, originating in book form in the 19th Century. However, it is once again one that Derleth currently has out in paperback.

Far Boundaries Cover

By 1990, the Mehrikan civilization vanished from the Earth and remains a mystery to the historians in Persia. This recounts the voyage of Noz-yt-ahl aboard the Zlothub in 2951 to their mysterious land.

Last American Art, New York In Ruins
All Artwork also by the Author

Landing in a strange port with huge structures, they eventually ascertain it is the fabled lost city of Nuh-Yuk, where the people were famous for nothing but their greed and having only prosperity as their God. As they continue to explore Nuh-Yuk they become less enamoured with the civilization, finding the people and buildings monotonous.

Artist's Impression of Life in Nuh-Yuk

As such they then head down river to Washington and there encounter Jon and his family, the very last remnants of the Mehrikans.

Fight between the Persians and Mehrikans

In spite of its age, this holds up as a great satirical piece, with the American being put in the position of the fallen civilization, judged harshly by those in a now dominant position and treated as a museum piece.

A high four stars

The Man Who Awoke by Laurence Manning

Continuing his reprints of Manning’s back catalogue, Lowndes has moved on to his Man Who Awoke series, with this first part coming from March 1933’s Wonder Stories.

Wonder Stories March 1933

Norman Winters has discovered that by putting himself into a comatose state in a chamber protected from cosmic rays, he can survive without aging. Faking his disappearance, he then sets up an x-ray to wake himself up in the year 5000.

Winters wakes in a time of plenty but not much excitement. People live in small villages and get everything from the trees they grow, only working less than two hours a day. Once the truth about himself is revealed he is caught in struggle between the Oldsters and the Council of Youth. Eventually Winters decides he cannot live here and uses the same method to advance to a later time. To be continued.

News From Nowhere by William Morris Cover

When I started, I thought it was going to be another The Sleeper Awakes. However, it is actually closer to William Morris’ News From Nowhere, showing us an agrarian future without want or struggle, and also asks questions of our current waste of our natural resources.

But this is not a purely a utopian vision, it acknowledges that the level of reaction to “The Age of Waste” (as they call the 20th Century) has resulted in excessive caution and explicitly calls for a middle path, for progress to exist without careless consumption.

Also, in stark contrast to his Stranger Club tales, this is elegantly written. Rather than wading through treacle I felt like I was drinking a glass of dry white wine on a summer’s evening.

Five Stars

Finally, we get the reader rankings for the first issue here:

Reader Ratings Issue 1: 1) Golden Atom; 2) City of the Singing Flame 3) Voice of Atlantis 4) Question 5) Plague
Showing myself to have very different opinions from the average reader of this publication

Some Other Someday

West Coast Consortium Band Photo
West Coast Consortium, actually from London

So maybe the past isn’t always that amazing either. Whether you are looking at then or now, there will always be both muck and brass.

I am not sure if I will pick up future issues or stick to picking up paperback anthologies for my past exploration. But, even though I will not put plants on my head for a trip to America, I am still happy to listen to Radio London, maybe just turning down the volume if West Coast Consortium come on…






[July 20, 1967] An Analog of Analog (August 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

Imitation is…

I think it's safe to say that, for almost twenty years there have been three Big Science Fiction Magazines.  Each aims at a specific branch of the scientification fandom.  For instance, John Campbell's Analog (formerly Astounding) is at once the hardest of the Big Mags, focusing on near-future gizmo tech or sweeping galactic epics with a scientific core, and also one of the softest, given John's weakness for psi stories.

The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction covers the literary end of the STF spectrum, and it also veers into the outright fantastical (q.v. the masthead).  Galaxy navigates a sort of middle path between the two.

But the most recent issue of FS&F had me wondering exactly which magazine I was reading again, for this month, Ed Ferman's publication feels a lot like Campbell's.  Perhaps writers have finally answered FS&F's plea for harder works, or maybe Ferman finally had a sufficient number of such pieces to fill (most of) an issue.  Either way, it's an interesting departure, especially with the increased art throughout.  Does it work?  Let's find out!


by Ronald Walotsky

Nuts, Bolts, and Dragons

Reduction in Arms, by Tom Purdom

My good friend Tom Purdom offers up this fascinating piece set in the early '80s.  The superpowers have bound themselves by the Treaty of Peking to curtail the development and implementation of terrible weapons.  But there is always the suspicion that one side or another is working on some version of a "ninety-five plus virus"–one that will wipe out most of a non-incoluated population.

Sure enough, American agents are tipped off when a Soviet biologist, supposed to be a patient in a specialized "role-play" treatment center, is found cavorting with ladies at a bar 30 miles away.  A raid is authorized.  Between hostile Soviets and rogue team members, the investigation quickly becomes fraught with peril.

Tom himself has this to say about the tale:

After I got out of the army in 1961 I became very interested in arms control and disarmament.  I did a lot of reading on the subject and ended up writing two articles for the Kiwanis magazine (a good middle market for a new writer).  An opportunity to write an article for Playboy didn't work out but I got to interview some of the people I'd been reading.

Fred Pohl suggested I write a story on the subject for Galaxy.  I didn't think I could handle the technical stuff needed for a story about detecting nuclear weapons so I decided to write about biological weapons which seemed like they might be the next big threat.  Microbiology labs, in addition, can be hidden in all sorts of small spaces.  I decided to focus on a treaty banning secret research because I had come to the conclusion we tended to run the arms race against ourselves.  Our people thought up a possibility and we had to work on it because the Russians might be working on it.  If we could determine they weren't, both sides could avoid another cycle in the arms race.

I picked a mental health facility as the hiding place because it raised interesting human and moral issues.  The story revolves around ethical and political issues instead of a duel between inspection technologies and evasion technologies.  The programmed environment therapy seemed like a natural extension of Pavlovian conditioning.

Fred Pohl rejected the story.  My agent, Scott Meredith, tried it on Redbook and Esquire with near misses at both places.  The fiction editor at Esquire said he wanted to buy it but he was overruled by higher ups.

The story was a novelette, about ten thousand words.  Playboy said they'd buy it if I could cut it in half.  I did but they rejected it.  Ed Ferman at F&SF liked the short version but felt it needed to be longer.  So I expanded it to its original length.  He bought it and now it's the August cover story.  One of the peak moments in my writing career, so far.

The story grew out of intense, solid research and some deep thinking on the whole problem of arms control.  When I finished it, I felt I had summarized and dramatized the key issues and dilemmas.  Perhaps the sweeping treaty in the story isn't very plausible.  We live in a time when the advance of technology makes serious arms control seem a necessity–so necessary even the politicians will have to see it.  Science fiction explores What might happen if?  The If may seem unlikely, but is still worth exploring.

I originally called the story "1980".  Ed Ferman asked for a change and I thought Reduction in Arms had a nice military clatter.  I also suggested War and Peace and A Farewell to Arms but he preferred Reduction in Arms.

There's no question that Tom has gotten a feather in his cap for the placement of this tale.  I will say that, although I found the concept interesting, it suffers for being an action piece told in third-person by a largely uninvolved party.  Visceral immediacy would have given the story more punch.

Still, it was interesting to see a Reynolds-esque thriller outside of Analog— and without the nardy slang Reynolds employs.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Conflict, by Ilya Varshavsky

Here is an import from the Soviet Union, about the large and small scale strife between humans and their increasingly sapient "servants".

I think it loses something in translation.  Two stars.

The Baron's Dog, by L. J. T. Biese

When an unemployed governess in Italy is offered 25,000 lira a month to walk a Transylvanian wolfhound, what's a girl to think?  Especially when the employer is tall, dark, handsome…and strictly enjoins against photography of his pet?

I found this tale delightful, such a nice contrast from all the creeping horror that such a setup normally would have entailed.  It's not quite Analogian, but it is good.  And if L.J.T. Biese isn't a woman, I'll eat my hat.

Four stars.

Soft Come the Dragons, by Dean R. Koontz

Koontz is a brand new author, and he offers up the tale of a far-off world, the miners who live in fear upon it, and the gossamer dragons that turn beholders to stone.  It's all rather metaphorical and lyrical and not quite sensical, rather as if Koontz spent the night reading Zelazny's works and then tried his hand at it.

I'd say it works more than it doesn't, but Koontz' rawness definitely shows through.  Three stars.

Earthwoman, by Reginald Bretnor

Will Adamson, born on a distant world, is human in all qualities save one: he and his race are possessed of telepathy, knit into a consciousness collective.  He is sent to Earth to discern how it is that we can love without the possibility of true connection.  And if we truly be human, is there an innate telepathic skill just waiting to be awakened?

Bretnor usually write silly stories or bad puns, so this more serious piece is a welcome change.  I found it a touch too affected, but otherwise enjoyable.  And definitely something that could have appeared in Analog.

Three stars.


by Ed Emshwiller

Mosquito, by Theodore L. Thomas

F&SF's story seeder suggests mosquitos might be laden with vitamins and inoculants such that their bite becomes a beneficial distribution method.  As usual, he misses some important aspects of his invention.  To wit, mosquito bites are not controllable in distribution or quantity.  And even if they provide needed drugs and nutrients, they still aren't pleasant to receive.

Two stars.

Bugs, by Charles L. Harness

Speaking of bugs, Charles L. Harness (who used to team up with Thomas under the pen name Leonard Lockhard) has authored this story of living bugs employed as espionage bugs.

There's a lot of "as you know" explanations, and the smugness with which the Americans subvert their KGB counterparts is pure Analog.

Mildly interesting, but just a bit too glib as well as prolix.  Two stars.

The Bubble, by J. W. Schutz

The destruction of humanity's first and only space station has spooked the government, and now they've decided to pull the plug on space investment.  Deane Aircraft, the largest space contractor, is faced with a pivotal decision: retool back to making conventional vehicles, or become the first private space presence.  The linchpin to the success of the operation isn't Theodor Deane, President of the company, nor the thousands of engineers he employs.  It's certainly not Theodor's greedy wife, Lillian, nor her paramour, Briggs, who is also Theodor's financial wiz.

It's Georgia Lighton, Theodor's secretary, who comes up with all the brilliant, cost-saving ideas.

The whole thing reads like a cross between Silverberg's Regan's Planet and a soap opera.  Again, very Analog.

Not great, but Analog.  Three stars.

Moondust, the Smell of Hay, and Dialectical Materialism, by Thomas M. Disch

The first man on the Moon, Mikhail Andreivich Karkhov, is dying.  Does he die for science?  For love?  For the state?  Or something else entirely?

A beautiful, moving piece, made all the more poignant by the recent twin tragedies that claimed the lives of three astronauts and one cosmonaut.

Five stars.


by Ed Emshwiller

Argent Blood, by Joe L. Hensley

A man is being treated in a ward for the incurably insane.  Between fits of "disturbance" he begins to mistrust the charitable nature of his doctor and nurse.  But he has a plan…

A good, atmospheric piece.  Three stars.

Kaleidoscope in the Sky, by Isaac Asimov

In a rare return to topics astronomical, Dr. A. submits a nonfiction piece on the moons of Mars, and how these extremely low flying rocks would appear to a surface observer.  If, indeed, they are even suitably placed to see them, for unlike our Moon, Phobos and Deimos orbit so close to their planet that Martian pole-dweller could not see them.

Good stuff.  Four stars.

Quick with His Hands, by Avram Davidson

Capping things off, this vignette of sibling rivalry on Mars, ably told and with a tearjerking finale.

Four stars.

Doing the math

So, did F&SF's experiment in apery succeed?  Well, there were high points and low points, but the overall impression I was left with was favorable.  We'll just have to compare it to the real thing in just over a week to see if Brand X beat the competition!

(Speaking of kooky stunts, it looks like F&SF is joining forces with several other organizations to hold a writing contest.  I wish them the best of luck, although the last time a magazine (Galaxy in that case) did this, in the early '50s, they got bupkis, and Fred Pohl had to write as a novice under a pseudonym to give them anything worth publishing.)