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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 20, 1966] Above and beyond (January 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction and a space roundup)

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[Today is the last day you can sign up at the reduced rate for next year's Worldcon.  Don't miss your chance to vote in next year's Hugos!]


by Gideon Marcus

Science Fact

In '57, Asimov stopped being a full-time science fiction writer to become a full-time science columnist, a change in vocation that has largely been a positive one.  Why did the creator of Nightfall, Foundation, and Susan Calvin make the leap?  Because, with the launch of Sputnik, science fiction had suddenly become reality, and the front page of the newspaper contained some of the most thrilling SF headlines going.

That trend has only accelerated.  This month, we entered the next stage of space travel, not with a flashy Gemini launch (though those are nifty!) or our first manned trip to the Moon, but with something called ATS.

NASA's "Advanced Technology Satellite" went up on December 7, 1966.  Some satellites, like TIROS, are weather satellites.  Some, like SYNCOM, relay communications.  ATS is the first to do both, and from geostationary orbit.  At its altitude of 36,000 km, it takes exactly 24 hours to circle the Earth.  Thus, from the ground, it appears to be standing still.  Equipped with a "spin-scan" camera, every 20 minutes, ATS sends back a full-globe image of the Earth with a resolution of just 3km.  For the first time, we have essentially real-time weather coverage of an entire hemisphere.

No less ambitious, but sadly less successful, was last week's three-day "Biosatellite" mission.  Biosat is the first in a series of spacecraft that will observe the long term effects of orbital life on a variety of organisms.  On board are a menagerie of bugs (including the ever popular fruit flies) as well as seeds and plants.  The plan was to launch the mission on the 14th and then bring it back on the 17th, observing the effects of weightlessness and radiation on the living cargo.  A retrorocket malfunction stranded the satellite in orbit, however.  I suspect the SPCA is filing a lawsuit as we speak…

NASA isn't the only American agency conducting science.  Last week, the Air Force launched two satellites at once in its low-cost "Orbiting Vehicle" series, OV1-9 and OV1-10.  Normally, these go into polar orbits, but the latest duo follow more conventional paths.  For the most part, these little guys investigate radiation, radio propagation, and other near-Earth conditions.  This is all of great interest to an organization that wants to put flyboys in a Manned Orbiting Laboratory next year, but there's also a valuable scientific yield for the rest of us.

Science Fiction (and Fantasy)

After all that exciting real-world news, could an SF magazine hope to provide the same thrills?  Turns out the first 1967 issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction does!


by Gray Morrow

The Little People (Part 1 of 3), John Christopher

Bridget Chauncey is the heir to a most unusual estate in rural Ireland: a run-down country home built on the site of a ruined castle.  Enchanted with the place and its commercial opportunities, she essays a trial season running the place as a vacation lodge.  An odd assemblage of characters are introduced: a bickering middle-aged couple and their daughter on the edge of womanhood, a ruddy Wehrmacht veteran and his half-Jewish wife, Bridget's practical fianceé, Daniel, the estate handler's son, Mat, and the cook and maid. 

The Little People is slow to start, author Christopher allowing us to settle into the heads of each member of this queer group.  But when a two-inch sandaled footprint is discovered, and linked to the recent rash of minor thefts, the identity of the culprit(s) quickly is determined.

Fairies are real.

This is where we leave off this compelling chapter.  I look forward to the ramifications of "first contact" between giant and wee folk.  Four stars.

The Star Driver, J. W. Schutz

Less impressive is this tale of a man stranded on an asteroid with rapidly diminishing air reserves.  Rescue depends on propelling a beacon to orbital velocity.  This Analog-ish tale would have been better served had the ending not been spoiled from the start by editor Ferman (and to some degree, the title). 

On the other hand, I don't want to discourage F&SF from publishing, well, SF.  So, a low three stars.

Interplanetary Dust, Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas suggests that the flux of micrometeoroids around the Earth might be netted up and squashed into a planetoid to live on.  I don't think he's researched how thin that flux actually is.

Two stars.

The Disenchanted Symphony, James G. Huneker

Here's a reprint from the turn of the century!  A Russian composer, infatuated with the link between music and mathematics, creates a symphony that punches a hole through the fourth dimension, whisking his wife and his orchestra away from our plane of existence.  Can he get them back?

I was impressed with how modern this story felt.  Judith Merril expressed in her Books column this month that SF owes much of its present sparkle to works created more than fifty years ago.  She was talking about H.G. Wells.  This sentiment could easily be said of Mssr. Huneker as well.

Four stars.

Bait, Bob Leman

Sometimes what a door-to-door salesman is peddling isn't the product he has on display.  This is a deliciously subtle tale that gets better after a night's thought on it.

Four stars.

The Knight-Errant, the Dragon, and the Maiden, Gahan Wilson

Sometimes the dragon is a chaperone, not a jailer.

Cute.  Three stars.

Right Beneath Your Feet, by Isaac Asimov

We're back to lists and geographical tidbits from The Good Doctor this month, this time describing what places lie directly opposite others on the globe.  Well, at least I learned the etymology of the word "antipodes" (still don't know how to pronounce it, though…)

Three stars.

Kingdom Come, Inc., Robert F. Young

Last up, a Christmas story.  Robert F. Young has never found a myth he hasn't wanted to shoehorn into a science fictional story.  This time, he adapts a reliable well: Christianity.  On the Seventh Heaven pleasure satellite, an angelic fellow named Mike shows up looking for a job.  He and his six brothers (Gabe the trumpter, Raf, etc.) are out of work of late since no one has gotten into their particular establishment for many years. 

It's an obvious tale and a tedious one, opting for the easiest, least challenging conclusion.  Two stars.

Back to Earth

With the exception of the final tale (accepted more for its fortuitous length and timely theme, perhaps), this is a quite good issue.  And with the unusual inclusion of a serial, there's all the more reason to look forward to the February issue when it arrives early next month.

Happy New Year, indeed!


by Gahan Wilson

[Today is the last day you can sign up at the reduced rate for next year's Worldcon.  Don't miss your chance to vote in next year's Hugos!]



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 8, 1966] Flesh and Blood (January 1967 Fantastic)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

Burning Curiosity

It's probably just my morbid imagination, but it seems to me that the most intriguing, if horrifying, event in recent days was the demise of Doctor John Irving Bentley earlier this month. The elderly physician was reduced to a pile of ashes (except for part of one leg) in what some people are calling a case of spontaneous human combustion.


The scene of the fire. Notice the large hole in the floor caused by the flames. I have deliberately avoided sharing more gruesome photographs.

Church Music

After that piece of news, it's a relief to turn to a piece of light entertainment. The unique novelty song Winchester Cathedral by some British folks calling themselves the New Vaudeville Band, currently at the top of the American music charts, is a deliberately old-fashioned number. It sounds like something Rudy Vallee might have offered in the 1920's, complete with singing through a megaphone and a finishing chorus of oh-bo-de-o-do.


Rumor has it that the song was recorded by session musicians hired for the occasion, and that the band was hastily put together when it became a hit.

Well, that got me to thinking about all the folks buried in Winchester Cathedral. (There's that morbid imagination at work again.) The most familiar one — to me, at least — is the great author Jane Austen.


It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a dead woman in possession of a good reputation must be in want of a lengthy epitaph.

Gore on the Pages

Given my grim mood, it's appropriate that the
latest issue of Fantastic is full of violence, horror, and bizarre manipulations of the human body.


Cover art by Frank R. Paul, stolen from the back cover of the March 1941 issue of Amazing Stories.


The original, with brighter colors. The Reptile Men (no women?) are cute.

The Ultimate Gift, by Bryce Walton

We begin our journey into the macabre with the magazine's only original work.


Illustrations by Gray Morrow.

Aliens arrive at the Moon. They seem ready to conquer the world, but are hesitant about humanity's ability to put up a fight. They allow envoys to pay a visit, but kill them for some unknown violation of protocol. The dying words (thoughts, really, but let's not get into that subplot) of the most recent victim lead to an unusual choice for the next diplomat.

The so-called Basket Man was born without arms or legs. After years of misery, he winds up as a sideshow freak, making use of advanced technology to move around and manipulate things. In his bitterness, he refuses to have artificial limbs attached to his torso. A representative from the United Nations, based on the hint noted in the paragraph above, convinces him to acquire robotic arms and legs, and to head to the Moon to meet the aliens.


The fact that they're reptilian, sort of like the creatures on the cover, is relevant.

A little knowledge of zoology may lead you to predict the reason for the aliens' violent reaction to their visitors. As you may have guessed from my description, this is a ghastly little story, with a particularly disquieting scene near the end. It has a certain raw power, I suppose. Given the infamous thalidomide tragedy of not so many years ago, the premise may strike many readers as being in poor taste.

Two stars.

The People of the Black Circle, By Robert E. Howard

Dominating the issue is a bloody sword-and-sorcery adventure, featuring a hero who seems to be making a comeback of sorts. This novella was originally serialized in three parts, in the September, October, and November 1934 issues of Weird Tales.


All cover art by Margaret Brundage.


Brundage often painted scantily clad young ladies for the magazine.


Two scantily clad young ladies.

Before I get into the story itself, let me talk about the revival of interest in Robert E. Howard and his most famous creation. The tales of Conan were left in the yellowing pages of old pulp magazines until specialty publisher Gnome Press starting collecting them in several volumes.


Cover art by David A. Kyle. The novella under discussion appears in this book, number two in the Gnome Press series, from 1952.

Earlier this year, the story appeared in a paperback collection. (It should be noted here that L. Sprague de Camp completed some of Howard's unfinished works about Conan.)


Cover art by Frank Frazetta.

The setting is an imaginary ancient past. There are clues that this takes place in a fantasy version of the Afghanistan/Pakistan/India region. (Some of the hints are a bit too obvious, such as a chain of mountains called the Himelians.) We begin with a king whose soul is about to be stolen by evil sorcerers. Rather than allow this to happen, he orders his sister to kill him.


Illustrations by Hugh Rankin.

This opening scene is just a hint of the carnage to follow. The plot is a complex one, with various factions scheming against each other, betrayals, allies becoming enemies, and foes forced to work together. Frankly, I had some trouble following it. In brief, the sister wants to force Conan, now the leader of a group of hill people, to wreak revenge on the sinister forces that attacked her brother. This involves several of his men who have been taken prisoner by another realm. (It's complicated.)

Instead, Conan kidnaps the sister, hoping to exchange her for the freedom of his men. This plan is ruined when a sorcerer, betraying the dark forces for whom he was working, works with the sister's disloyal servant on their own scheme to rule the land, which results in the death of Conan's men. (I said it was complicated.)


Conan, his captive, and a horse.

After a whole bunch of wild adventures, with plenty of killings, the pair wind up at the mountain where four powerful sorcerers dwell, along with their less powerful minions and one ultra-powerful sorcerer. By this time, the sister's hatred for Conan has turned to love, just in time for her to be kidnapped from her kidnapper, if you see what I mean.


One of the many torments to which the sister is subjected.

I hope this gives you some idea of the breakneck pace, non-stop action, and frequent plot twists in this story. I lost count of how many people are slaughtered by sword or magic. (At one point, Conan acquires a magic item that protects him from deadly sorcery. This seems awfully convenient.) There are even battle scenes, with hundreds or thousands of warriors massacring each other.

There's plenty of weird magic as well, which may be the most interesting part of the story. I was particularly impressed by the floating cloud on which the four sorcerers travel.

Howard had an undeniably important influence on sword-and-sorcery fiction, and his imitators continue the tradition. (Brak the Barbarian, created by John Jakes, comes to mind.) The raw intensity of Howard's style and the bloodthirstiness of his plots aren't for all tastes. Personally, I prefer the wit and elegance of Fritz Leiber's tales of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser.

Three stars.

The Young One, by Jerome Bixby

From the April 1954 issue of the magazine comes this supernatural yarn.


Cover art by Augusto Marin.

Jerome Bixby is probably best known to SF fans for his chilling tale It's a Good Life and the memorable episode of Twilight Zone adapted from it. He has also dabbled in screenwriting, coming up with the kind of B movies I enjoy, such as It! The Terror From Beyond Space.


Illustration by Sanford Kossin.

A young boy meets a fellow his own age, newly arrived in the United States from Hungary. He seems nice enough, but all animals hate him. What's even stranger is that his parents eat raw meat and have very sharp teeth. (You can already see where this is going, can't you?)

The immigrant boy says he absolutely has to be back home before seven at night. The American kid tricks him by taking him into a cave, then pretending to be lost, so the Hungarian lad can't return until after his strict curfew. You can probably guess what happens.

It's an decent story, if predictable. (The exact way the plot is resolved may be a little bit unexpected.) The description of the cavern is intriguing, if nothing else.

Three stars.

The Ambidexter, by David H. Keller, M.D.

This Kelleryarn comes from the April 1931 issue of Amazing Stories.


Cover art by Leo Morey

The world's two greatest surgeons, one American and one Chinese, have a meeting. The American has a brain tumor, so he wants the Chinese physician to remove part of his brain and replace it with part of a brain from another person. Can you guess that this is going to go very badly wrong?


Illustration by Leo Morey also.

This tale of Mad Science reminds me of old horror movies, the kind that show up on Shock Theater. In particular, the transplant theme brings to mind things like Mad Love, although that was about hands and not brains.

The partial brain transplant concept is unique, as far as I know, and Keller's background as a physician makes the crazy idea seem somewhat plausible. The character of the Chinese surgeon reeks of the old Yellow Peril stereotype, unfortunately. Replace him with, say, Boris Karloff and you might have the basis for a decent black-and-white chiller. I don't think the censor would care for the ghastly ending, however.

Two stars.

Mad House, by Richard Matheson

The January-February 1953 issue supplies this reprint.


Cover art by Robert Frankenberg.

Like Bixby, Matheson is associated with Twilight Zone and has written screenplays for feature films. His movies are too many to list, but a couple worth mentioning are the Jules Verne adaptation Master of the World and The Last Man on Earth. (Apparently Matheson wasn't happy with this version of his novel I am Legend, so he used the pseudonym Logan Swanson for his share of the screenwriting credit. I actually thought it was pretty good.)

As with Howard's novella, Matheson's story has already been reprinted in a couple of collections. The first one is named after his first published story, already considered a classic.


Cover art by Mel Hunter.

The second one is sort of a reduced version of the first one, omitting some stories.


Cover art by Charles Binger.

This psychological horror story features a frustrated writer who ekes out a living as a poorly paid instructor of literature. He's nearly always boiling over with anger about his inability to be published, lashing out at his students and just about everyone else. Fed up with his rage, his wife leaves him.


Illustrations by Bill Ashman.

He also fights a daily battle with inanimate objects around the house. They seem to be conspiring to harm him. An acquaintance — he can't be called a friend, given the fact that the main character is as nasty to him as he is to everybody else — suggests that the house is sort of absorbing his anger.


Chaos ensues.

Like other stories in this issue, it leads to a blood-soaked conclusion. It's also similar in that it's pretty predictable. The best part of it is the author's style, full of short, rage-filled sentences that really get you into the main character's head. That's not a very nice place to be, of course.

Three stars.

Worth All That Suffering?

The magazine ends with this appropriately macabre anecdote, which I offer without comment.


I don't believe it. Oh, wait a minute, that was a comment, wasn't it? Sorry about that.

Not a great issue, although a bare majority of the stories were at least worth reading. The Conan story is of historical importance, anyway. I suppose the magazine would be enjoyable enough if you happen to be in a situation where you need to be waiting around.


Cartoon by somebody called Salame, from the same issue as the Matheson story.

[Join us tonight for the next episode of Star Trek — airing at 8:30 PM Pacific and Eastern!]




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 2, 1966] Mixed Bags (January 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

November was no more or less eventful than most months, but nothing really caught my eye. The Republicans made modest gains in the mid-term elections, California elected a so-so actor as governor and New Orleans is getting a football team in what certainly looks like recompense to Representative Hale Boggs and Senator Russell Long for shepherding the merger of the American and National Football Leagues through Congress. But there’s really nothing there to talk about. So, as with the last time this happened, let’s talk about the art.

Art matters

Regular readers of this column will know that I am often less than complimentary to the art in IF, especially the interior illustrations. There have been some changes in Fred Pohl’s stable of artists over the last year, some, but not all, for the better. John Giunta seems to have disappeared entirely, but several artists have stepped in to fill his shoes. We’re seeing a lot more from Wallace Wood and his assistant and imitator Dan Adkins, neither of whom is all that good, despite their years in the industry. On the other hand, Virgil Finlay has returned after a long absence, and he’s one of the best in the business.

We’re also seeing more of the mononymous Burns after a short absence. Unfortunately, his current style seems to combine the worst of Nodel and Giunta (and I like Giunta’s work generally). This month brings us a new artist: Vaughn Bodé. His figures are a bit cartoony, but not objectionable. I also like his landscape and VTOL aircraft. I won’t be sorry if we see more of his work.

A return to form

Something of a mixed bag in this month’s IF. A decent end to one serial and a promising start to a new one. A silly story and something experimental from established writers. Let’s take a closer look.


Just for a change, the cover actually depicts something inside. Art by Morrow

The Iron Thorn (Part 1 of 4), by Algis Budrys

Honor (pronounced “honner”) White Jackson is pursuing a bird-like Amsir across a red desert. As long as he wears his pointed metal cap and maintains line-of-sight to the Iron Thorn, he will be warm and able to breathe the thin air. If he can make his kill and bring it home, he will become a full-fledged Honor. Surprisingly, his quarry carries a metal spear (his own equipment is made largely of Amsir parts) and speaks, ordering him to yield when it thinks it has the upper hand.

On his way back, he is met by his older brother Black, who cautiously tests his reaction to the discoveries he has made. Disturbed by what he has learned, White (now Secon Black) enters the Iron Thorn for the first time and speaks with the Eld Honor, who says he may have what it takes to become Eld himself one day. Our protagonist comes to the conclusion that if he stays, he will be killed, and so, after giving a drawing of an armed Amsir to a girl he’s had his eye on, he sets out into the desert to be captured by an Amsir. He succeeds after killing the man who killed his father (making him Red Jackson) and is taken to a giant dish-shaped valley, filled with green plants and air dense enough to let the Amsir fly. There is also an Iron Thorn at its center, upright and shining, unlike the one his people call home. A vision of his people’s heaven, Ariwol. To be continued.


Honor White Jackson chases his prey, but who is hunting whom? Art by Gray Morrow

Last month, I noted that I’ve never really enjoyed Budrys’s work, but was pleased to learn that I liked his story in that issue. The streak continues. There’s an awful lot packed into these 35 or so pages, but it mostly works. The exposition, in particular, is a masterpiece of “show, don’t tell”. Parts of it are a bit rushed; the protagonist goes through three names (and has a secret fourth, Jim), and his decision that his life is in danger seemed precipitous. Maybe that will be fleshed out more if this appears as a novel. It’s a good start, though, and I look forward to more.

A solid three stars.

A Hair Perhaps, by J. F. Bone

Major William Bruce has arrived at the remote, top secret tracking station where he will spend the next two weeks all alone. When he is kidnapped, along with his living quarters, by aliens who plan to use him as their first test subject to determine if humans are worth enslaving, he has to find a way to defeat them with the limited tools at hand.


Two examples of Bodé’s art I mentioned earlier. I like the first one, but the figures need a little work, especially the human. Art by Vaughn Bodé

It’s been a few years since we saw anything from Bone. Unfortunately, like his last offering, this one is a stinker. Not as bad as “For Service Rendered”, but not up to his usual quality by a long shot. Bruce is thoroughly unpleasant (and explicitly stated to be so in the text), and the whole story is in service of a weak punchline.

Two stars.

– Still More Fandoms, by Lin Carter

Our Man in Fandom picks up where he left off and gives us some more fandoms that appeal to many science fiction fans. He starts off with one of the biggest groups, the Baker Street Irregulars, devoted to Sherlock Holmes, moves on to a couple of fellows in Missouri who are trying to start a fan group dedicated to James Branch Cabell, and on to the well-established Oz fandom. He finishes up with a look at the somewhat fragmented comics fan groups. Contact information is provided for the Cabell group and a couple of comics groups.

Three stars.

The Scared Starship, by D. M. Melton

Mars has been divided between the western and Sino-Sov blocs, with some neutral territory where finds must be shared. Rainbow Smith tells us how the group he was exploring with found a dead alien and a starship. The captain and the geologist rescue the find from the machinations of the evil Mao Lee, but it’s computer specialist Margot Harris who figures out how to get to the starship and win it over for the “good guys”.


Brains and beauty, but I don’t know how she gets all that hair in her helmet. Art by Nodel

Melton’s biggest problem thus far has been the handling of female characters. That’s largely corrected here, though there is one passage that feels more like “how men think women think”. Unfortunately, we have a nasty bit of Yellow Peril storytelling in the vicious Mao Lee (and an accompanying picture by Nodel). The whole Cold War tension subplot could have been dropped, leaving a decent problem story.

A low three stars.

By the Seawall, by Robert Silverberg

A great stone wall, sixty meters high and twenty meters thick, extends six thousand kilometers along the Eastern seaboard to protect humanity from the monsters which have risen from the sea. Micha-IV is an artificial person whose job is to patrol a one kilometer section of the wall, triggering additional defenses against monsters that scale the wall, reporting damage and also conducting tours. Suddenly, people have begun jumping off the wall, with or without a parachute; suicide either way. Micha-IV struggles to understand.

This can best be summed up as Robert Silverberg writes a J. G. Ballard story. How you feel about both those writers will probably determine how you feel about the story. I like Silverberg and don’t care for Ballard, but I can see that others might enjoy this.

Three stars.

On the Shallow Seas, by Robert Mason

Lant is a convict on the prison world of Exonam. Prisoners spend their days harvesting golden oysters. Fail to meet your quota of meat and you don’t eat, but find a rare gold pearl and you’ll be pardoned.


The “oysters” aren’t much like Earth shellfish. Art by Burns

Mason is this month’s new author. There’s enough here that shows promise. Line by line, the writing is good, though we’re treated to almost every prison story cliche there is. My biggest problem is the use of gold as the plot's linchpin. There’s no real reason for it to be that valuable. Mason would have been better served by using something much scarcer or making up his own element or alloy.

A low three stars.

The Impersonators, by C. C. MacApp

Inspector Kruger of the Interstellar Division has been sent to the planet Phrodd to arrest the embezzler Borogrove O’Larch. It’s diplomatically sensitive, because Phrodd is an alien world, so Kruger will have to step carefully. The locals are also perfect mimics, and O’Larch has hired a lot of them to pretend to be him. Kruger is soon at his wits’ end.

I usually groan when I see MacApp’s name and breathe a small sigh of relief when I see it’s not a Gree story. I sighed too soon. MacApp does not have a hand for humor. Laumer or Goulart could have had moderate success with this, but the story here is just plain bad.

Two stars.

Snow White and the Giants (Part 4 of 4), by J. T. McIntosh

A group of strange young people have come from the future to witness the Great Fire of Shuteley. They also have an interest in Val Mathers and his cousin Jota. Now trapped in the heart of the fire storm in a protective dome set to disappear at dawn, Miranda guides Val through his memories of Jota to help him understand what they hope to do. All his life, two things have been true for Jota: people who got in his way died, and he could have any woman he wanted.

In Miranda’s day, some three percent of people have the Gift, and they’re making society ungovernable. The much smaller percentage who are immune aren’t enough to stop them. Miranda and her team have come to the past to save Jota’s life in the hope that will eliminate the Gift, but they’ve failed. However, by convincing Val that he can have children without them turning out mentally handicapped like his younger sister, Miranda has accidentally succeeded. Now, Val and his sister just need to survive the collapse of the dome. Can Miranda meet the price he demands?


Val and Greg fight for the future. Art by Gaughan

And so McIntosh brings everything to a reasonably satisfying conclusion. There’s a small flaw in the plot, in that Jota has no children and so his death ought to have eliminated the Gift. But there’s a bite in the final paragraph that more than compensates for any weaknesses elsewhere.

Three stars for this installment and for the novel as a whole.

Summing up

After last month’s excellent outing, this issue is something of a return to form. The serials are the main reason to read the magazine, and the stuff in between is average at best. Next month we have the continuation of the Budrys novel, which is promising, as is a new Niven tale. A new Retief could go either way. But the March issue will have a contribution from every winner of a professional Hugo at TriCon: Asimov, Ellison, Herbert and Zelazny, plus a cover by Frazetta. So we’ve got that to look forward to.




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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 30, 1966] Marking time (December 1966 Analog)

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But first, please read this brief interlude!

As you know, in addition to Galactic Journey, I also run Journey Press, devoted both to republishing classics discovered while on this trek through time, but also to publish new works of science fiction in fantasy that (I hope!) live up to the quality and tradition of the classic works we offer.

If anyone would enjoy these works, we know it will be you.  This holiday season, pick up a title or three from Journey Press!  It's the best present you can give yourself, a loved one…and us!


by Gideon Marcus

Bogged down

With more than half a million American troops in Vietnam now, the South Vietnamese are starting to feel like they're living under occupation.  There's no doubt who's calling the shots these days.  The question is, is this surge of military force going to be enough to drag Ho Chi Minh to the bargaining table?

Despite the flow of optimistic figures from the Pentagon, it doesn't look like peace or even peace overtures will happen any time soon.  The closest we've gotten is securing a pair of holiday ceasefires.  So, expect a long slog and nightly death counts on the evening news for the forseeable future.  Better dead than Red, right?


American soldiers enjoy a Thanksgiving respite before heading off to combat again.  They may end up taking as long getting to Hanoi as it's taking Saunders and Kelly to get to Berlin.

In the trenches

Meanwhile, the December 1966 Analog constitutes a landmark of sorts — it's the last magazine of the year!  And, like Vietnam, it's often been a tedious, dragging affair.  This month is no different, though the magazine starts better than it ends.  Let's get our report from the front, shall we?

A quick note on the inside cover this month.  Yes, the one editor whose editorials I skip every month has bundled his loony screeds together and is offering them in book form. Or as Tom Lehrer put it:

Now there's a charge for what she used to give for free…

He even got Harry Harrison to shill for him.  I have to disagree with Harrison, though: while Campbell indeed may be "idiosyncratic, prejudiced, and annoying", he also is usually quite boring.

Don't fail to miss!

Amazon Planet (Part 1 of 3), by Mack Reynolds


by Kelly Freas

Mack Reynolds once again sets a tale in his loosely knit United Planets.  Humanity has sprawled across hundreds of stars, and one of the primary tenets of this community is that each colony expresses itself as it likes so long as it harms no other world.

As might be deduced from the title, this latest novel features a matriarchy planet, one where the "traditional" (read mid-20th Century) gender roles are reversed.  Well, not so much features, as this first third of the novel takes place not on "Amazonia", but on a freighter headed toward it.  There are only two passengers: Terran Guy Thomas, a deceptively mild trader with plans to open Amazonia up to the niobium trade, and Patricia O' Gara, refugee from the exceedingly puritanical colony of Victoria.

There's not a lot of action in this section.  Mostly crew mates talking about how terribly men are treated on Amazonia, Pat (and later a troop of Amazons) explaining how they're wrong, and Guy acting as something of a catalyst for discussion.  It's all rendered rather broadly, but simply the fact that this subject is even being discussed, and a matriarchy is not being played for laughs, is interesting.

I'm waiting to see where it goes; this could be an awful, sexist piece or it could be an enlightened one.  Only time will tell (though Reynolds has a good track record on this front).

Three stars.

The Weathermakers, by Ben Bova


by Leo Summers

Hurricane season is hotting up, and it's up to Ted, Jerry, Tuli, and Barney (the last a woman) of Project THUNDER to ensure none of these storms hits the Atlantic seaboard.  To accomplish this, they'll use cloud seeding planes and orbital lasers to increase the equilibrium of the systems, smoothing them out before they become rotating furies.

But when these methods prove insufficient, only true weather control on a national scale can save Washington D.C. from a devastating cyclone.

The Weathermakers is actually an excerpt from an upcoming novel, presumably the climax.  It's exciting enough, and the technology is interesting, although I have to wonder if pumping extra heat energy into the Earth's atmosphere isn't ultimately a dangerous thing.

It's all a bit gung ho and simplistic, more what I'd expect from a juvenile.  This is not a bad thing, of course.  We can use more juvenile authors of merit.

Four stars.

Cytoplasmic Inheritance , by Carl A. Larson

The nonfiction article this issue is an extremely abstruse, but not unreadable, piece on the role the cytoplasm plays in genetics.  Apparently, it's not all governed by DNA in the nucleus.

Biology's not my bag, and a lot of it went over my head, but I did read it and found interest in it.

Three stars.

The Blue-Penciled Throop, by L. Edey

It's all downhill from here.  First, we've got another in the epistolary Throop series, basically an excuse for Campbell to tell us how hard his job is as editor having to deal with a bunch of nincompoops.

Two stars.

The Price of Simeryl, by Kris Neville


by Leo Summers

The colony of Elanth has got itself in a bind.  The local government bought too much of the addictive Simeryl drug to pacify the indigenous Elanthians, who both are having trouble meeting their farm quotas and are spending too much time fighting the Coelanths, a vicious species that has enjoyed a recent resurgence.  Third Foreign Secretary Raleigh is sent to the planet to fact-find pending a solution.

Wow, that didn't take me long to write at all.  The story, on the other hand, is presented as a set of interminable interviews with various government officials, none of them pleasant or particularly distinctive from each other.  And in the end, there is no revelation.  The story is perhaps five times longer than it needs to be.  Even at its best, it's pointless.

Also, I'm getting a little tired of putative future governments with nary a woman to be found in them.  From Ann Rosenberg Hoffman to Margaret Chase Smith to Indira Gandhi, we've had many prominent female lawmakers and cabinet leaders.  It's time to feature women in our science fiction at least to the degree they are represented on 1966 Earth, and not just in extreme cases as depicted in the Reynolds this month.

One star.

Under the Dragon's Tail, by Philip Latham


by Leo Summers

Finally, "Philip Latham" (Dr. Robert S. Richardson, who writes great nonfiction), turns in a piece that's basically the day-to-day dreariness of an assistant planetarium manager.  That an asteroid is going to smack down in Griffith Park at the end is a mostly extraneous detail.

Two stars.

Looking Back

Well, that wasn't very good, was it?  Indeed, Analog sets a record of sorts: at 2.5 stars, it is the worst magazine of the month.  Slightly better, though still dismal, was Fantasy and Science Fiction (2.6).  Amazingly enough, Amazing beat out both of them with 2.9 stars.

Above the mediocrity line lie siblings Galaxy (3.1) and IF (3.2) The British mags top out the list with Impulse at 3.3 and New Worlds at a whopping 3.6!

There was exactly one story by a woman this month.  I had thought '66 would be better than '65 in this regard, but no dice.  To paraphrase Mrs. Rosenberg Hoffman, Assistant Defense Secretary under Truman, science fiction without women is an industry half-idle.  I hope things get better soon.

I guess we'll continue to mark time until then…

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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 26, 1966] White Boats, Whales and Disch, New Worlds and SF Impulse, December 1966

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

In a follow-on from last month’s comments, the rumours of falling sales on both Brit magazines seem to be holding water. This is worrying, especially when both magazines seem to be on a roll, but the one I like most is the lesser-selling of the two. New Worlds definitely presses buttons, but SF Impulse is the one I remember most.

More news as I get it.

Let’s start with New Worlds.

Mike Moorcock’s Editorial this month begins with the sad bit of news that Cordwainer Smith has died and then goes onto write of an aborted attempt to celebrate the centenary of H. G. Wells’ birth.

It is perhaps the last part that may be of interest to regular readers, as Mike (or is it Assistant Editor Langdon Jones?) lets slip some of the findings of the latest New Worlds reader’s survey. Unsurprisingly, the results reflect the changing state of the genre, something that regular readers will not be unaware of.

To the stories!

Echo Round His Bones (Part 1 of 2), by Thomas M Disch

Mr. Disch is everywhere in the Brit magazines at the moment. This month, for example, we have a serial novel and an interview from him over in SF Impulse (more later.) We’ve had poetry, horror stories, science fiction stories, funny stories and weird stories, all in the last six months or so. And here we have the first part of a novel, which takes up almost half of the issue.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The story is one that uses a lot of science fictional cliches but blends them up into a modern tale. In the near future scientist Panofsky has invented an instantaneous matter transmitter (Star Trek fans, take note.) Captain Nathan Hansard is a United States officer who is transferred with his platoon from Camp Jackson Pensylvania base to Camp Jackson Mars via the transmitter known as The Steel Womb. However, there is an unfortunate side effect. Hansard discovers that whilst being transferred he becomes left in limbo in some sort of in-between realm. As a result, although he is still on Earth, he is like a ghost in that he can walk through walls but cannot communicate easily with people in the ‘normal’ world.

As if that wasn’t strange enough, he also finds out that there are others stranded in this space who can interact with him normally. This is not always good, nor easy – Hansard finds himself pursued by his own soldiers, for example. Much of the middle section of this part of the story is about how Hansard comes to terms with his new environment and survives. He visits his ex-wife and son, only to find that he has become a voyeur and cannot communicate with them. He also has dreams of himself being a soldier and being involved in horrible acts in an unnamed place which looks and sounds like China.

At this point Hansard is rescued by Bridgetta, who we then discover is the wife of Panofsky, the inventor of the transmitter.

It’s a little wobbly to start with. Hansard does not come across well in the first couple of chapters — arrogant and generally unpleasant, which is not an ideal start of a character described as “a hero”. There’s also the odd major dollop of exposition in a tell-not-show kind of way. However, once the plot settles, it is exciting and memorable, shocking and interesting. The fact that there were points where I honestly couldn’t tell where this one was going makes this a good thing. 4 out of 5.

Conjugation, by Chris Priest

We’ve met Chris here before, in the May 1966 issue of Impulse with The Run. This one is different, attempting to be like Ballard’s recent work, cut up into initially disparate sections: a newspaper report, part of a speech for the President, a transcript of a videotape, an entry in an emergency-log and so on, with the verbiage kept to a minimum. Its plot is typically unclear, more an exercise in style but seems to be about an astronaut involved in an accident which seems to involve some sort of implosion. Whilst I liked the fact that the writer is trying to push the genre envelope a little, it didn’t really work for me. In the end no one does this sort of thing like Ballard. 3 out of 5.

The White Boat , by Keith Roberts

Now this was a surprise. This is a Pavane story, a series recently published in Science Fantasy, and to all intents and purposes finished. Admittedly, it was very well regarded and not just by me.

This one is a smaller vignette piece, focussed on a young teenage lobster fisherman named Becky. One night she sees a White Boat out at sea. She becomes obsessed with it and on its return ends up on it. The boat is a smuggler boat, bringing forbidden technology from France to England. Becky is returned to where she lives, to watch as the boat is shot at by soldiers of the Pope.

There’s a lot of the usual Roberts-in-more-serious-mood touches, which I liked, and even some odd vaguely sexual ones, which felt a little out of place. To be honest, the link to the world of Pavane is minimal, but there are connections if you know what to look for to connect this story to the rest.

So why is this coda piece being published in New Worlds? I’m not really sure, but with Roberts acting as Managing Editor, artist and teller of Anita stories (see later) in SF Impulse, perhaps another Roberts story there this month would have been just too much.

I liked it but did not come away quite as impressed as I was with the other stories in the series. 3 out of 5.

Lost Ground, by David Masson

How often have you heard about the weather being oppressive, moody or unsettling? In this story David makes “mood-weather” a reality in the future, where the weather does affect people’s moods, something which future generations pop pills like crazy to alleviate.

It’s good to see the return of an author who made such an impact with his first story published last year, even if more recent tales have been less impressive. However, this one I liked, perhaps because it deals with that most British of conversation topics!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The rest of the story though does not quite live up its potential. TV reporter Roydon Greenback goes to find his wife Miriel lost in a time-storm, which leads to him being sixty-one years in the future from his original point. It doesn’t end well. Nothing especially wrong with this, it is just a bit predictable.

This one’s more like The Transfinite Choice (New Worlds, June 1966) than Traveller’s Rest (New Worlds, September 1965.) in that it has interesting ideas but not always used well. It does however introduce new words that could be scientific or just made up – chronismologists and poikilochronism, for example. Again, not his best work but far from his worst. 4 out of 5.

The Total Experience Kick, by Charles Platt


Illustration by Unknown Artist

The latest from Platt goes back to the land of The Failures (New Worlds, January 1966), which was all pop-culture and alternative lifestyle drug culture. Our hero is an industrial spy whose Total Experience machine can be used to intensify emotions through music. He is sent to infiltrate the opposition and see their latest development, with a girl involved to complicate things. It’s fun but a bit predictable, rather like rather Jerry Cornelius meets The Beatles, based around some sort of Heath Robinson contraption. I’m assuming that this story may be the inspiration for the cover picture this month. 3 out of 5.

Tomorrow is a Million Years, by J. G. Ballard

Illustration by Unknown Artist

The latest from Mr Ballard is a reprint (see Argosy, October) and also due out as part of a collection soon, I gather. Glanville and his wife Judith are able to travel time and space. They go to the fictional ship Pequod and see Ahab and his crew and talk of Glanville being The Flying Dutchman before the story turns into one of revenge. Still dark and moody but a surprisingly straightforward tale from J. G. It makes me think that this was written a while ago – it is more reminiscent of his Vermillion Sands story collection than more recent work like The Terminal Beach. 4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

This month Hilary Bailey covers a lot of books. This includes Roger Zelazny’s This immortal, Shoot at the Moon by William F. Temple, Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison, Mandrake by Susan Cooper, Damon Knight’s The Other Foot, Sybil Sue Blue by Rosel George Brown, Shepheard Mead’s provocatorily-titled The Carefully Considered Rape of the World, Digits and Dastards by Frederik Pohl and The Fiery Flower by Paul I Wellman. Mike Moorcock also reviews and lists some, very briefly.

No Letters pages again this month.

Summing up New Worlds

Lots of returning authors this month. The Disch is the standout for me, although not perfect, whilst the rest are good but not great overall.

The Second Issue At Hand


And now to SF Impulse. The cover pushes the artwork to one side this month to herald the writers and point out that there is a new Editor-in-Chief, if you didn’t know.

The Editorial is mainly Harry’s version of what happened at the Trieste Film Festival, which Francesco Blamonti reported on last month. In short, the Italians are very enthusiastic about their sf, perhaps more so than us undemonstrative Brits. Does read a little bit like an essay entitled “What me and Arthur C Clarke did on our holidays.”

Inside Out by Kenneth Bulmer and Richard Wilson

The first story this month is co-written by a duo with a long pedigree here in Britain. Ken Bulmer is a prolific author who has been published since the 1950s, but whom you might not know in the US, and Richard Wilson similarly but since the 1940s. As you might expect then this is a straightforward SF tale of the “old-school” variety.

Petty crook Duke Walsh steals a metal box full of money from an alien here on Earth in secret. The box however is not just a storage box, but a replicator, which can replicate almost anything you want. However, Duke, not realising what the box is, takes the money and throws the box away. Short yet memorable. 3 out of 5.

Three Points on the Demographic Curve by Thomas M. Disch

A story from the seemingly ever-present at the moment Mr. Disch. In the overcrowded future of 2440 (I can see why Harry likes this!), Darien Milkthirst (great name!), Investigator, is given the task of finding 56 470 kidnapped children. The kidnapper, Prosper Ashfield, appears and tells Darien that he is from the future. As the Last Man on Earth he is collecting children to repopulate the future Earth. However, the children are indolent and look upon Prosper’s robot companions as their natural superiors. Frustrated, Ashfield begins to select children from throughout history to try and redress the issue. He then goes into deep-freeze to allow the robots to continue their work.

It’s all told in the jaunty manner that the story banner describes as “wry humour”. More good stuff from Mr Disch, that reminds me a little of Robert Sheckley – not a bad thing. 4 out of 5.

The Familiar by Keith Roberts

Illustration by Keith Roberts-  the author!

Another Anita the teenage witch story! Well, not quite, as the focus this time is upon Granny Thompson’s cat. I said that Anita’s last story felt like it was the series coming to an end and this story almost proves it. Anita is a popular character, but I think Keith is starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel with this one. Nevertheless, this is very different to Keith’s other offering in New Worlds this month. As ever with the Anita stories, The Familiar is fun and not to be taken too seriously, but not the strongest Anita story I’ve read. 3 out of 5.

Hell Revisited: An Interview with Kingsley Amis by Thomas M. Disch

Kingsley Amis is a respected author and commentator here in Britain. Harrison in his Editorial describes him as a “friendly critic”, and I would say that this is fair. His book New Maps in Hell has been seen as a critical work in recent years, extolling the virtues of sf to critics who would otherwise sneer at it.

With this in mind then, Disch’s interview is rather revelatory. Amis decries the recent writings of New Wave authors, claiming that to meet mass appeal it has lost some of its key characteristics. All of the authors hallowed in New Maps – Clarke, Pohl, Sheckley and Blish – are now criticised and of the new crowd, Messrs Aldiss, Budrys and Ballard have all disappointed. Even “run-of-the-mill science fiction is even more run-of-the-mill than it used to be”. All of this sounds a bit grumpy, yet Amis puts his points across amiably and logically. Kurt Vonnegut and Anthony Burgess come out of this well. Interesting and thought provoking.

The Real Thing by Eric C. Williams

Another returning author, last seen in Science Fantasy (whatever happened to that ?) back in August 1965. A story of what happens when Holt Mannering hires the spaceship Magpie and her crew for a day to get research for his next book. This involves getting as much realism as possible, which makes the trip rather dangerous. All written in a light-hearted manner – Heinlein it ain’t! 3 out of 5.

The Plot Sickens by Brian W. Aldiss

If the last story was amusing, this one is a lot more fun! In typical Aldiss manner, Brian takes the conceit begun by George Hay in his Synopsis story in Impulse 4 (June 1966) of writing reviews for imaginary science fiction novels and then spoofs it up even more. For example:

Beware the effect of an unbridled Aldiss! Makes its point whilst not savaging the genre, and a nice counterpoint to the Amis interview. Made me grin a lot. 4 out of 5.

The Ice Schooner (part 2 of 3) by Michael Moorcock

Illustration by James Cawthorn

The first part of this story I described last month as a “post-apocalyptic Norse fantasy” introduced us to Konrad Arflane in a future Earth covered in ice. There a man Konrad rescued, Pyotr Rorsefne of Friesgalt, had said that he would like Konrad to take his ship, the Ice Maiden, and sail to the North to find the legendary New York and there the mystical Ice Mother.

The second part this month deals with the exciting but gruesome hunting of whales, and is straight out of Moby Dick. Before the journey North, Konrad has agreed to take Pyotr’s daughter Ulrica (who Konrad fancies), her arrogant husband Janek Ulsenn, and Ulrica’s cousin Manfred whale hunting, along with the legendary harpoonist Long Lance Urquart.

However, the crew of the vessel are inexperienced in whale hunting and the ship is destroyed. Manfred rescues Ulrica but Manfred receives a broken arm and Janek’s legs are broken. Arflane finds himself more and more attracted to Ulrica. Despite her being married and Konrad being warned off by both Janek and Manfred they begin an affair.

The group return to find Pyotr has died. There is a funeral. The will splits the estate between Ulrica and Manfred, with Konrad receiving the command of the Ice Spirit. If he takes on the journey to find New York, the ship and any cargo become his. It is a further condition that Ulrica and Manfred go with Arflane on this quest. Urquart goes too.

With the journey begun, the relationships between the group are strained. After Ulrica’s initial enthusiasm, she now acts coolly towards Konrad. In return, Arflame is moody as a result of Ulrica’s rebuttal. Such taciturn emotions to those around him lead the crew to begin to rumour that Konrad brings a curse with him. There are enormous difficulties faced on their journey, and the story ends as the ship encounters an ice break.

So, lots of excitement. The pace of the first part is maintained this time around. The whale hunt is particularly gruesome, although that is to be expected. Generally, this second part is nearly as good as the first, although there is a dreadfully done sex scene and an utterly convenient plot point that takes the story down a notch. At one point, it all becomes rather like a science fiction version of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which may be intentional.

Despite this, the story is intriguing and I still like the setting. 3 out of 5.

The Voice of the CWACC by Harry Harrison

Although this is the first time the CWACC have appeared here, there have been previous stories in this series (last seen in the June 1966 issue of Analog – traveller Marcus really didn't like it.) Personally, I am always a little dubious of editors publishing their own work in their magazine – it either displays a great deal of confidence in their own worth or conveniently fills up a gap, neither of which usually bode well. I’m not quite sure which this shows!

It’s a slight tale, meant to be amusing, of scientists (the CWACC) with a new invention – an aircraft recognition system to be used for ground defence. Because of the “highly secret, unpatented, incredibly artful components” it has, it is very successful. The new twist is that the machine is worked internally by a rat – take that, Daniel Keyes! Not bad – energetically silly and fairly forgettable. And no, I still don't know what CWACC stands for! 3 out of 5.

No Letters to the Editor this month.

Summing up SF Impulse

I like the Moorcock, even if it is not quite as good as the part last month. Disch impresses (again) and both the Anita story and Aldiss’s story made me laugh – not easy to do.

Summing up overall

New Worlds is a solid issue from regular writers. SF Impulse impresses more with its stories. Disch or Moorcock? Aldiss or Harrison? Keith Roberts or… Keith Roberts? Hmm. Both issues are good, but I’m going with the SF Impulse (again) this month.

Someone say "Christmas?" All the compliments of the season to you.

Until the next (forward, 1967!)…



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 24, 1966] Middling (December 1966 Amazing)

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by John Boston

Better Red than . . . ?

The December Amazing, all business, with the editorial and letter column seemingly dropped permanently , makes a nice-looking package, with a cover by Frank R. Paul shamelessly dominated by near-fire engine red.  It’s taken from the back cover of the January 1942 Amazing, where it was titled “Glass City of Europa.” The caption there says "Transparent and opaque plastics make this a wonder city of ersatz science.  Transportation is by means of giant, domesticated insects." 


by Frank R. Paul

Interestingly, this cover is not only cropped from the original, as is usual, but altered: someone has airbrushed Jupiter from the upper left-hand corner!  There’s nothing in its place but more red.  Now that’s editing!  Of a sort.

Born Under Mars (Part 1 of 2), by John Brunner

The featured fiction on the cover is the beginning of John Brunner’s two-part serial Born Under Mars.  As usual I will withhold comment (and reading) until both parts are available.  A quick inspection suggests that this one represents Brunner the capable post-pulp storyteller and not the author in his highly variable philosophical mode, the poles represented by his worthy The Whole Man and his unfortunate mess The Bridge to Azrael.


by Gray Morrow

Vanguard of the Lost, by John D. Macdonald

John D. Macdonald is best known for crime fiction—a lot of it.  Since 1950 he has published 40-odd crime novels, most if not all original paperbacks.  His current project is a series of novels about a private eye named Travis McGee—eight of them in three years.  In all this criminous fecundity it’s easily forgotten that Macdonald was once an up-and-coming SF writer, and pretty prolific at that too.  From 1948 to 1952 he published almost 50 stories in the SF magazines, in addition to a number in the borderline-SF pulp Doc Savage, all the while maniacially generating crime stories as well.  He used multiple pseudonyms and sometimes had multiple stories in the same magazine issue.  In his spare time he cranked out two decently-received SF novels, Wine of the Dreamers and Ballroom of the Skies.  A lot of his work was excellent, too; highlights include A Child Is Crying, Flaw, Game for Blondes, and my own favorite, the compact and nasty Spectator Sport, all of them promptly anthologized.


by Julian S. Krupa

Then it all stopped.  He had one last story in 1953 in Fantasy and Science Fiction, and since then it’s been all crime, almost all the time.  He did appear in the Merril annual “best SF” volume a couple of years ago with a weak fantasy from Cosmopolitan, The Legend of Joe Lee, and in 1962 published The Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, a crime novel (rather, a farce with some crime and attempted crime in it) with an SF premise: the time-slowing gimmick of Wells’s The New Accelerator and its numerous successors, including Macdonald’s own Half-Past Eternity, a novella for the pulp Super Science Stories in 1950.

Crime, it appears, paid—at least better than SF.  And in fact the SF market of the 1950s could never have accommodated the number of novels he produced.  His post-1952 short fiction, meanwhile, was split between the crime fiction magazines and the more lucrative likes of Cosmopolitan, Collier’s, and the Saturday Evening Post.

After that buildup, it’s unfortunate that Macdonald’s Vanguard of the Lost, from the May 1950 Fantastic Adventures, doesn’t amount to more.  Aliens have landed!  Well, not landed yet, but their fleet of ships is traversing the globe.  Larry Graim, statistician by day and SF writer by night, goes up to his building’s roof to check them out, and meets there Alice, a feisty young woman who proves to be the one who denounces Graim’s work relentlessly in the SF magazine letter columns (“the poor man’s Kuttner and the cretin’s van Vogt”).

Graim is disoriented by the fact that these aliens’ rather beat-up-looking, uncommunicative spaceships first seem to be mapping the earth, and then land and release large machines that start building things with no visible sentient direction.  It’s completely different from the plots he’s familiar with from the SF magazines, so he and Alice go try to figure out what’s behind the seemingly mindless display.  En route there is much mild satire of Everyman reacting to the unprecedented.  The denouement is uninspiring and ends on a note of slapstick, to be followed by wedding bells to complete the meet-cute plot.  It’s readable and vaguely amusing.  Three stars.

The Revolt of the Pedestrians, by David H. Keller, M.D.

The second novelet in the issue is David H. Keller’s first, and probably most famous, story, The Revolt of the Pedestrians (Amazing, Feb. 1928).  In the future, everybody is on wheels, all the time.  The mania for speed has overtaken everything else; the roadways are progressively more dominated by automobiles; pedestrians first become fair game and then are banned altogether, and hounded out of existence—or so it is thought.  By the time of the story, the legs of the ordinary citizen have atrophied, and everyone gets around the house and the office in miniature personal cars.  But . . . hidden in the wilderness, a remnant population of pedestrians is thriving, and scheming, and perfecting their science, and soon they shall declare themselves and their demands. 


by Frank R. Paul

This of course is all quite ridiculous.  But aside from that minor problem, this story is actually pretty good.  It’s well paced in a rambling sort of way, very smoothly written, with engaging central characters, with Keller’s soon-to-be-characteristic expositional chunks going down smoothly, and without the cranky and rancorous ideological overtones of some of his later stories.  And bear in mind that the absurd extrapolations here are a cruder version of the satirical method that later served Galaxy so well (compare Pohl’s The Midas Plague).  Three stars—four if one compares it only to other works of its time.

Dr. Grimshaw's Sanitarium, by Fletcher Pratt

I pinned Fletcher Pratt long ago as one of the more tedious SF writers going (actually, gone: 1897-1956).  I remember as a child trying to force my way through his Double Jeopardy, thinking that if Doubleday published it and it was reprinted as a Galaxy Novel, there must be something to it.  Then I encountered Invaders from Rigel, in which elephantine extraterrestrials turn humans into metal by manipulating radiation, and realized the futility of persevering with it, or with him.  (In fairness, Pratt’s outright fantasy, both his collaborations with L. Sprague de Camp and his unaccompanied work, was much superior.)

The Pratt-fall du jour is Dr. Grimshaw’s Sanitarium, from the May 1934 Amazing.  Our hero John Doherty is sent to the sanitarium by his employer for a rest after his courageous thwarting of a train robbery, which left him with some psychological difficulty.  It soon becomes apparent that Dr. Grimshaw is a sinister character and there’s something funny going on.  He’s turning people into midgets!  Soon enough the Doctor gets wise to Doherty and his friends and really gives them the midget treatment, so they end up having to survive in the grass, which is now apparently taller than they are, and subsist on insects that they manage to kill with makeshift weapons (reportedly, June bugs are reasonably tasty but houseflies are disgusting).  But now the end is near!  Grimshaw’s got a cat, and all is lost.  Two stars, barely.


by Leo Morey

Interestingly (sort of), when editors Leo Margulies and Oscar J. Friend solicited self-nominations for an anthology to be titled My Best Science Fiction Story, published in 1949, Pratt submitted this one, though he did acknowledge rewriting it for a more modern audience.  I did not investigate the revision.

The Flame from Nowhere, by Eando Binder


by Julian S. Krupa

Eando Binder’s The Flame from Nowhere (Amazing, April 1939) is a routine period adventure story: forest fire proves impossible to stop, turns out it’s really an atomic fire, must have atomic fire-fighting methods, our hero quickly whips them up in a flurry of mumbo-jumbo, making the penultimate sacrifice, two stars.  Next!

The Commuter, by Philip K. Dick


by Bill Ashman

Philip K. Dick’s The Commuter, from the August/September 1953 Amazing, during the magazine’s brief flirtation with high pay rates and a stab at higher quality, is one of many facilely clever stories from his early period of prolific glibness.  It starts with a small man asking a railroad clerk for a ticket book to Macon Heights, being told there is no Macon Heights, and disappearing.  It happens again.  A railroad official takes the train and finds it does stop at Macon Heights, which research shows was a proposed development that was rejected by the authorities years ago.  So what’s happening to reality?  The story, which foreshadows more substantial work by Dick on the same theme, is a trifle with a barb; it effectively conveys the official’s fear for his familiar world and life.  Three stars.

He Took It with Him, by Clark Collins

The issue concludes with He Took It With Him, by Clark Collins, actually a pseudonym of Mack Reynolds, who mostly used it for articles in men’s magazines, such as Beat’s Guide to Paris, in French Frills for October-December of this year (Beat?  In 1966?  What a square.) and Guide to Fallen Women in Sir Knight in 1961.  This story is from the April 1950 Fantastic Adventures. Bentley, a selfish rich guy with cancer who’s got a year to live, buys a noted scientist with a promise to build the research institute the scientist dreams of if he will only figure out how to preserve Bentley until such time as he can be revived and cured.  The new Institute will be charged with keeping him safe, and also hiding his money, converted to gold and diamonds, until he is awakened to (of course) a nasty surprise that’s not too obvious to the reader.  Readable, modestly clever, three stars.


by H. W. MacCauley

Summing Up

So, a middling reading experience—nothing too terrible, most of it at least agreeably readable, one surprise from the unlikely source of Dr. Keller, and the prospect of the Brunner serial pending. 

(For an excellent experience, you don't want to miss Part 2 of "The Menagerie", the next episode of Star Trek — join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings)!!)

Here's the invitation!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 22, 1966] Ha ha.  Very funny.  (December 1966 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Joke's on me

I have a buddy in the Costume Designers Guild (you know her, too — she's Gwyn Conaway).  She keeps me up to date with the inside dope on Hollywood.  One tidbit she offered up recently was something she paraphrased from a manual for actors published this year: the last words of the actor, Edmund Gwenn, who passed away in 1959.  A visitor to his deathbed exclaimed that his final ordeal must be hard for him.

Gwenn replied, "Dying is easy.  Comedy is hard."

I think it was in Lighthouse, a fanzine for pros, that Lester del Rey suggested more writers should go into comedy rather than flogging the same tired "serious" science fiction canards.  The problem is that humor is harder than seriosity.  An inexerpt attempt to make one laugh produces the opposite effect.

And God help us all if an editor decides to fill an entire magazine with failed attempts.  This month's Fantasy and Science Fiction, for example…

No laughing matter


by Howard Purcell

Sabotage, by Christopher Anvil

Chris Anvil normally writes for Analog.  His stories often pit humans outstmarting aliens with a bit of clever sophistry those stupid ETs (inevitably made of straw) could never conceive of, let alone counter.  How one of these tales got into F&SF, I'll never know.

The setup: the vaporous Tamar and Earth are in a stalemated war.  Earth has the technology, but Tamar has the psychology.  They possess our people and try to sabotage our efforts.  None of their attempts have been particularly successful, but the latest threatens to be a doozy.  College students are becoming increasingly disaffected by something they're being taught, and while the immediate effect is small, the cascade could be disastrous.  Luckily, Officer McAmerican (every character's name is in Rank Surname format) is able to counter the insidious teaching with a lesson plan of his own.

Obviously, this is some kind of anti-Communist metaphor; again, one wonders why Campbell didn't pick it up.  Perhaps he's full up on Anvil stories.  F&SF may pay more these days, too.  Anyway, Sabotage is three times longer than it needs to be — or it's infinity times longer, if you feel the story never needed to be written.

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Mystery of the Purloined Grenouilles, by Gerald Jonas

In his first published story, Jonas gives us a baroquely told tale of a man who creates energy through reverse Galvanism: he hooks frogs up to a generator and tickles their legs.

Two stars.

Doubting Thomas, by Thomas M. Disch

Disch is an author who started so promisingly, but if this story, of a computer designed to suss out the veracity of magical events, is any indicaton of where he's headed, he might as well throw in the Smith-Corona. 

It just ain't funny, nor is it fun to read.  One stars.

The Martian Atmosphere, by Theodore L. Thomas

The "science" article describes what we know about the components of Mars' atmosphere.  Thomas seems to believe that because there's no oxygen that something must have happened to it.  Which presupposes it was ever there in the first place.  He also assumes that the carbon dioxide that makes up the majority of the Martian atmosphere is a byproduct of respiration.

At some point, we're going to have to come to terms with the fact that there's no life on Mars.

Two stars.

Von Goom's Gambit, by Victor Contoski

Take any position of the pieces on the chessboard. Usually it tells of the logical or semi-logical plans of the players, their strategy in playing for a win or a draw, and their personalities. If you see a pattern from the King's Gambit Accepted, you know that both players are tacticians, that the fight will be brief but fierce. A pattern from the Queen's Gambit Declined, however, tells that the players are strategists playing for minute advantages, the weakening of one square or the placing of a Rook on a half-opened file. From such patterns, pleasing or displeasing, you can tell much not only about the game and the players but also about man in general, and perhaps even about the order of the universe.

Contoski's tale, also apparently his first, is about an opening so repulsive, it is irresistible.  I'm a sucker for chess stories, and this is the first readable piece in the issue. 

Three stars.

The Green Snow, by Miriam Allen deFord

At first, it seems deFord will provide a bulwark against the droll tide.  After all, deFord is quite deft with menace and creep, skilled at eliciting deep and dark emotion, but she doesn't do comedy.  Thus, while a story that begins with the gentle falling of green-tinted snowflakes could have been a romp for others, in deFord's hands, it's clear we're in for a horror.

She executes it well-enough, though there's something of the last decade about it in its flavor.  But then, as if prodded by an editor overeager to have every story fit his chosen theme for the month, deFord adds a heavy handed joke at the end.

Which, of course, falls flat.  deFord doesn't do comedy…

The Gods, by L. Sprague de Camp

If there is humor in this short poem about the passage of the gods from human devotion, it is ironic.  In all fairness, I did enjoy this piece quite a bit.

Four stars.

The Symbol-Minded Chemist, by Isaac Asimov

The always good-humored Doctor A manages to stave off the jokeyness for another dozen pages, writing on the origin of chemistry's alphabet soup.  I always enjoy etymological articles, although the list of elements by alphabetical order of their chemical name seems a bit of padding.

Four stars.

Bumberboom, by Avram Davidson

It is centuries after The Bomb, and the resulting, almost anarchic society that sprawls across the Eastern Seaboard is threatened by Bumberboom.  It is a great cannon, though it has not fired a shot in generations, tended by an increasingly inbred crew, whose Captain Mog, somewhere between an idiot and a moron, is the brightest of the bunch.

Enter Mallian, son of Hazelip, who sees the ancient gun as an opportunity to carve a feudal realm out of the upstate New York, with him as its sovereign.

Bumberboom reads something like a cross between Jack Vance and R. A. Lafferty, combining the poetic resonance and creative settings that are the signatures of the former with the sometimes incomprehensible whimsy of the latter.  Davidson's problem is that when he decides to go for funny, he often writes himself into a twisted corner, his sentences meandering to get free of themselves.

Still, once you're into it, it's not so bad. Three stars.

The punchline

But not so bad is also not so good.  My nephew, David, called me last month to let me know he'd let his subscription to F&SF lapse.  I told him he was overreacting, that things had gotten better since Ferman had taken over from Davidson.  Now I can already hear an "I told you so" coming my way.

No joke!


Not me this month.



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 12, 1966] A Family Tradition (December 1966 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

Identical cousins

My brother Louis and I diverge quite a lot.  He's an observant Jew, I'm an atheist.  He served in World War 2 (drafted into the Navy), I did not.  He's an affluent pawnbroker.  I'm a writer of questionable success.

But where we differ the most is the subjects of our avocational devotion.  Lou loves opera.  Specifically operas written in 1812 between October and November.  I kid, but his musical tastes are really quite narrow; his radio knob never turns from the FM classical stations.  I am far more catholic in my interests, enjoying everything from classical, to the swing of my teen years, to the brand new sounds.

Also, Lou hates science fiction.

Interestingly, his son David (thus, my nephew), loves SF as much as I do.  Must be this newfangled "generation gap" we're starting to hear about. 

For the last 15 years or so, he and I have swapped recommendations, and he's even lent me some of his magazines.  Our tastes are not identical.  He recently canceled his subscription to The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he is a big fan of Analog.  But we have some strong overlap, particularly where it comes to Galaxy.  In fact, that picture is him in his San Pedro home enjoying this month's issue.

I am thankful that my own daughter, David's first cousin, is also a devoted science fiction fan.  I'd hate to have to throw her out of the house before her eighteenth birthday.

Kidding, again!  I'd surely wait for her to be of age before disowning her.

But, that's not anything we have to worry about, for we are all one big happy family of fen, and we all dug the December 1966 Galaxy — read on and see why!


by Paul E. Wenzel

The issue at hand


by Virgil Finlay

Door to Anywhere, by Poul Anderson

Humanity has developed teleportation technology, and Mars has become a hub for galactic exploration.  But a recent jaunt to the edge of the known universe caused the destruction of several portals and the loss of a senator's brother-in-law.  Now the politician has arrived on the Red Planet to investigate.

When Poul Anderson sets his mind to it, he can write.  Not only is this an effective story, with the mystery disclosed one layer at a time, but it is technically interesting.  It's the first depiction of teleportation I've read that takes relative velocities into consideration.  A trip to a nearby star could require hops to a dozen intermediaries across the galaxy, or multiple galaxies, to ensure the difference in relative momenta is not too great.  I also appreciated the political discussion over the virtues and peril of building a teleporter too close to the Earth.

Where the story falters to some degree is its characterization: Anderson is still in the Kowalski, Yamamoto, Singh habit of defining players by their nationality — and women are strangely absent.  Also, the Hoylean/Hubblean fusion of cosmological theories seems like a lot of gobbledegook.

Nevertheless, it's a riveting read.  Definitely four stars.

Children in Hiding, by John Brunner

I'm told there are two John Brunners.  One is the brilliant Englishman who produced Listen…the Stars! and The Whole Man, both Star-winners and Hugo nominees.  The other is the American who produces schlock.

The latter wrote Children in Hiding.  The premise: the children on a colony world are born healthy but never develop mental capacities beyond that of infants.  A terran troubleshooter is brought in to fix the problem.  He does, but not to the benefit of the colony.

There's a lot of angry dialogue and excessive use of exclamation points, and the end is just stupid.  I'll give the piece two stars because both Brunners write coherently, but all in all, it's a disappointing story.

The Modern Penitentiary, by Hayden Howard


by Jack Gaughan

Ah, and now we have another story of the Esks, a race of Eskimo/alien hybrids that spawn children every month.  Children that mature in five years.  Throughout the series, we've seen the Esks explode in population, exhausting their environment and crowding out the real Eskimos.  In this, they are facilitated by the do-gooder Canadians, who refuse to see the Esks for the meance they are.  Instead, they give the Esks food, relocate them to other areas, etc.

Only one man, Dr. West (who always conjures up the Lovecraft character), knows the truth.  When no one listened to his Cassandra cry, he tried to sterilize them with a disease (last story).  The plan backfired, killing 23 actual Eskimos.  For this, he was imprisoned in the nicest cell ever, complete with a therapeutic nurse-lover.  Modern Penitentiary details West's attempts to escape, as well as his rather difficult-to-read sexual adventures.

These installments stand less and less on their own, and they become more implausible every time.  Thankfully, we've only one left. 

Two stars.

For Your Information: The Sound of the Meteors, by Willy Ley

I really dug this article, all about whether or not one can hear a meteor.  It was timely, too, as I read it right before our trip out to the desert to stargaze last weekend.

Four stars (and enjoy these pictures of Borrego Springs!)

At the Bottom of a Hole, by Larry Niven


by Hector Castellon

The latest Niven story is another set on Mars, a locale we've visited in Eye of the Octopus and How the Heroes Die.  Hole takes place a good seventy years after the last story.  A smuggler on the run from Belter cops tries to take refuge on Mars at the old base.  He finds the crew long dead, murdered when someone, or several someones, slashed their bubble.  Was it Martians?

The story also features the return of Luke Garner and Lit Schaeffer from World of Ptavvs, tying Mars to that universe.  Along with this month's A Relic of the Empire, which ties Ptavvs in with The Warriors (featuring the Kzinti) and the Beowulf Schaeffer stories set several centuries hence, it appears Niven has knit together six hundred years of future history to play in.  Fun stuff!

Four stars.

Decoy System, by Robin Scott

This is a Mack Reynoldsy thriller featuring an American agent's meeting with his Soviet counterpart.  Some third party has been sabotaging both the US and USSR's early warning systems so that they will indicate massive nuclear strikes.  Aliens are determined to be the culprit.  An era of peace and cooperation ensues.

Of course, it was all a Yankee plot.  I think I'd have liked this story if I hadn't read the premise before (and seen it as recently as The Architects of Fear).  It feels a lot like an Analog story.  Also, it's a lot of buildup for an ending that is obvious early on.

Two stars.

The Palace of Love (Part 2 of 3), by Jack Vance


by Gray Morrow

Last time, if you'll recall, I hadn't been overly enamored with Jack Vance's latest novel, a direct sequel to The Star King.  Kirth Gersen, a rich and supertalented assassin, is on the hunt for Viole Falushe, one of the "Demon Kings" of crime who murdered his parents.  The prior installment took us to Earth, where Gersen, disguised as a reporter (working for a paper he has purchased), investigates Falushe's childhood home.  Back then, he was known as Vogel Filschner.  His best friend and inspiration, before he went into kidnapping and slaving, was the poet, Garnath. 

It is the houseboat-dwelling, nigh-incomprehensible Garnath, who provides Gersen his opportunity to meet and kill Falushe.  Along the way, he becomes increasingly entangled with Garnath's ward, "Zan Zu of Eridu", who is an exact likeness of Falushe's childhood infatuation. 

The first two thirds, in which Gersen plays a cat and mouse game with Falushe, is riveting.  The final section, which sees Falushe invite Gershen to his private sanctum ("The Palace of Love") in the far reaches of space, is heavy on description but light on interest. 

Still, I'd give this section four stars.  It'll be up to the last installment to determine if the whole affair ends up on the three or four star side of the ledger.

Primary Education of the Camiroi, by R. A. Lafferty

Last up, an obtuse piece on the differences in educational policy and success between two planets.  It's supposed to be whimsical (when isn't the word applied to Lafferty?), but it's mostly tired.

Two stars.

Summing up

Finishing up at 3.1 stars, I'd say Fred Pohl has done his job to keep Galaxy on our subscription lists for another year at least.  And I do mean our — you have to count me in, too!

[Speaking of stories you and your family will enjoy, Sirena, the second book in The Kitra Saga, is out!  Fun for adults, young and old.

Buy a copy…you'll be supporting me and getting a great read at the same time!]



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 6, 1966] Starting Over (December 1966 IF)

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by David Levinson

Autumn is a strange time for new beginnings, but that seems to be something of a theme, both in life and in the latest edition of IF.

Carnival atmospheres

On October 5th, the highest appeals court in Texas ruled that Jack Ruby, the man who shot the man who shot President Kennedy, should be granted a new trial. The court said that, given the tremendous amount of publicity in Dallas about the shooting, the judge should have granted the request for a change of venue made by Ruby’s lawyer, Melvin Belli. The court also ruled that some statements made by Ruby to the police should have been excluded. Oddly, the court didn’t have a problem with people who watched the shooting on television being on the jury. The new trial will probably be the big news story early next year.


Jack Ruby shortly after his arrest.

The Texas court may have followed the Supreme Court ruling in Sheppard v. Maxwell back in June. In 1954, Dr. Sam Sheppard was convicted of the brutal murder of his wife Marilyn. He maintained that she was killed by a “bushy-haired” man, but he was tried and convicted in the press before he was even arrested. The story became a national sensation, and the jury was exposed to further declarations of Sheppard’s guilt in the press throughout the trial. Before the trial began, the judge even told Dorothy Kilgallen that Sheppard was obviously “guilty as hell.” Jury selection for a new trial began on October 24th, and the prosecution should have begun to present their case by the time you read this.


Sam Sheppard’s mug shot from 1954.

Rising from the ashes

In this month’s IF, it seems like almost everybody is starting over. Whether it’s their personal lives, civilization or the human race, they’re all trying to put things back together.


This doesn’t look like it has anything to do with the Niven story. And they got the title wrong. Art by Gaughan

Be Merry, by Algis Budrys

Several years ago, a Klarri interstellar liner suffered an accident. The people aboard piled into lifeboats and made a crash landing on Earth. Unfortunately, they were unable to take any precautions and Klarri diseases swept through the human population, while human diseases did the same to the Klarri. Both populations were cut in half, and human civilization collapsed. The survivors have pulled together, human and Klarri alike, in small communities outside of the big cities. Rations are short and no one is really healthy, but the communities support each other as best they can.

Ed Dorsey and his Klarr partner Artel are investigators in the Western District of Greater New York. Their boss sends them to check out Ocean Heights, New Jersey. Unlike other places, the people there take whatever they’re sent without complaint, not even begging for more medical supplies. Entering the town late at night, they find signs of a pre-pandemic lifestyle, as well as a crashed lifeboat and a building that seems to be holding a number of Klarri prisoner. Returning in daylight, they find people in robust health who are very cagey about conditions in the town.


Ed and Artel make a discovery. Art by Gray Morrow

Historically, I’ve not been a big fan of Algis Budrys’s work. I can see the skill in his writing, but never really connect with it. This story is another matter entirely. I found myself fully invested and eager to solve the mystery of Ocean Heights. I also liked that, unlike in many stories, survivors were pulling together instead of being at odds, even recognizing that the Klarri are also victims and integrating them into their communities.

Four stars.

The Thousandth Birthday Party, by Durant Imboden

It’s Ogilvy Carr’s one-thousandth birthday. Since medical science can keep almost everyone alive indefinitely and birth control, and interplanetary colonies aren’t enough to reduce population pressure, a solution had to be found. Anyone who reaches the age of 1,000 has to draw a ping pong ball from a bin. A lucky few are named Immortals; the rest are shot in the head by a sniper before they know they’ve lost. It’s no wonder Ogilvy is nervous.

Imboden is this month’s first time author. A more seasoned writer could have found a way to explain the significance of the birthday without two full pages of flat exposition interrupting the flow of the narrative, but this isn’t a terrible first outing.

Three stars.

Starpath, by Neal Barrett, Jr.

The Starpath is an energy-intensive method of instantaneous travel between planets that few men are capable of using. Major Keith Waldermann is taking Cadet Matt DeLuso on his first tour. After five quick jumps, they get some unexpected R&R on the planet Primera. But while there, a Priority Red is announced. Hostile aliens have been encountered, and the entire power output of dozens of planets will be consumed to get men and materiel to the point of contact as quickly as possible.


Priority Red means all hands on deck. Art by Adkins

This story starts out as an Arthur C. Clarke travelogue as written by Robert Heinlein, before shifting gears to a war story at the halfway mark. If you’ve seen a war movie made in the last 20 years, you know how it’s going to turn out. Still, it’s an engaging tale and worth the read.

Three stars.

A Relic of the Empire, by Larry Niven

Dr. Richard Schultz-Mann is on a planet orbiting the double star Mira. He’s studying the stage trees left over from the ancient Slaver empire in the hopes writing a book that will sell well enough to restore his lost fortune. (With a trillion potential readers, getting just one percent to buy your book means a lot of money.) His investigations are interrupted by the arrival of a ship under the command of a man calling himself Captain Kidd. The captain and crew have done the impossible and made money at space piracy, because they managed to stumble across the puppeteer home world. Now they’re on the run from the police. Mann’s only hope is his knowledge of the local flora. Maybe he can find another way to get rich.


Richard Mann makes his escape. Art by Burns

Niven appears to be pulling his stories together into a future history. Mentions of puppeteers and Slavers connect the Beowulf Schaeffer stories and World of Ptavvs. As for the story itself, pretty good. Not as good as the two about Beowulf Schaeffer, much better than some of Niven’s other recent work.

A solid, maybe a high, three stars.

The “Other” Fandoms, by Lin Carter

This time out, Our Man in Fandom takes a look at fan groups outside of, but somewhat adjacent, to science fiction fans. Some of them even hold their annual meetings at the World Science Fiction Convention. Carter takes us on a whirlwind tour of groups dedicated to Edgar Rice Burroughs, Conan, Tolkien, horror and movie monsters. Better, he provides contact information for most of them. If none of these catch your interest, there are more to come next month.

Three stars.

Call Me Dumbo, by Bob Shaw

Dumbo lives in a pretty little cottage far outside the village with her husband Carl and their three sons. She has begun to have disturbing thoughts about things other than hoping for a daughter; things like her name. Following Carl to the village in secret, Dumbo discovers that there is no village, just a cylinder of black metal, lying on its side. She also spies Carl throwing away a glass box that turns out to contain an eyeball. As her world spins ever further out of control, Dumbo makes a number of alarming discoveries.


Dumbo makes a discovery. Art by Virgil Finlay

This dark and disturbing story deals with a theme we’ve seen before. It can be seen as the unpleasant flip-side of “Another Rib” by John J. Wells and Marion Zimmer Bradley, as well as more directly (though less poetically) dealing with a theme in Cordwainer Smith’s “The Crime and the Glory of Commander Suzdal”. I honestly don’t know what to do with this one. It might well be a four-star story, but the ugliness at the core of it makes me want to go take a shower.

I just can’t give this more than three stars.

The Forgotten Gods of Earth, by Andrew J. Offutt

The barbarian Kymon of Kir has come to the ancient world of Earth in search of a treasure worth an emperor’s ransom and a captive princess. Armed with powerful magics and his mighty blade Goreater, he overcomes the guardian monsters and penetrates deep into the Black Castle of Atramentos, home of the sorceror Gundrun.

This cross between Conan and Clark Ashton Smith’s Dying Earth straddles the line between parody and pastiche, though more firmly on the side of the latter. An entertaining, though occasionally turgid read, it would have fit perfectly in the pages of Weird Tales 30 years ago. As with the tales of Brak, I find myself asking if we really need this sort of old-fashioned guff. Fritz Leiber has shown that it’s possible to keep the tone and still write a modern story.

Three stars.

Snow White and the Giants (Part 3 of 4), by J. T. McIntosh

Shuteley, England has been visited by a strange group of young people whom Val Mathers and his old friend Jota have figured out are from the future. Leaving Jota with the giants, Val has begun to repair his marriage, but as he and his wife return they find the whole town on fire. After helping organize the fire brigade, Val heads upriver to investigate the giants. He sees them guiding many of the people of the town out of danger and apparently sending them to the future.

After witnessing a fight between Greg, the giants’ apparent leader, and Miranda, the Snow White of the title, and losing his own fight with Greg, Val regains consciousness in a protective dome in the heart of the firestorm consuming the city. He discovers Jota apparently about to rape Val’s mentally handicapped sister, and the two fight. Jota is pushed out of the dome and is instantly killed by the intense heat. Soon after Miranda shows up and begins to explain things. Val will be considered the villain of the fire, because he failed to enforce modern standards of fire prevention. But the point of the expedition was to save Jota’s life, because he possesses “the Gift”. As the story ends, Miranda guides Val through his life to understand what that means. To be concluded.


As Shuteley burns, only the protective gear of the giants can withstand the firestorm. Art by Gaughan

Lots of action this time. McIntosh spends a little too much time describing the course of the fire, perhaps because the extreme destruction it causes seems rather improbable. We’re teased with learning the purpose of the visitors from the future, but we still don’t know what the deal is with Jota or why most of the supposed victims of the fire are being rescued. Hopefully, all will be made clear in the finale.

Three stars.

Summing up

Just looking at the ratings, this is a pretty good issue. Unfortunately, the darkness of “Call Me Dumbo” sits atop it all. It’s counterbalanced to some extent by the hopefulness of “Be Merry”, but I don’t know that it’s enough. I suspect most of the discussion will be about the Shaw piece.


After his story in this issue, I’m more interested in a new Budrys novel.




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[October 31, 1966] Respite from the horror (November 1966 Analog Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Boo!

It's a scary world out there.  If ever there was an appropriate time to be reminded of it, it's today, Halloween.  These days, it's not the supernatural or the spooky that frightens the bejeezus out of us (though UFO sightings are at a record high).  No, it's real-world issues like the ongoing, escalating war in Vietnam.  Thousands of our boys have died over there, and there's no end in sight.  The other day, Stokely Carmichael, head of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, said he had no intention of fighting were he to be drafted.  He's currently living with the Sword of Damocles of his latest physical fitness exam — will he be judged fit for duty?  Is prison preferable to serving in an unjust war?

There are fears on the domestic front, too.  Grocery prices have spiraled to ridiculous levels, and an organized army of housewives has picketed the stores in at least 15 cities across America.  Can they effect change before basic foods get too expensive too afford?

I think all of this existential dread is why folks turn to fiction.  I've now had several fans of my Kitra series note their appreciation that, while they find Kitra's adventures riveting, they take comfort in knowing that she and her crew will come out safe in the end.  It's a reassurance they aren't finding in real life

I felt similarly reading the latest issue of Analog.  Sometimes science fiction paints grim futures, even seeming to relish in the despondence of the characters who inhabit them (q.v. Harrison's overpopulation nightmare, Make Room!  Make Room!).  Such works are important.  Cautionary tales are important.  They show us potentialities to avoid.  They challenge us to think.  But sometimes, you just want an interesting story where you know things will all work out.  Analog's editor John Campbell has given us two quite good ones this month (and some other stuff).


by Kelly Freas

Yay!

Quarantine World, by Murray Leinster


by Kelly Freas

Dr. Calhoun of the Med Service has reason to be suspicious.  The planet Lanke is ostensibly perfectly healthy, yet the government is going out of its way to hide something from him.  Moreover, Lanke's politicians are keenly interested in the public health specifically for its insuring the bottom line of their economy.  It is thus with appropriate shock to all concerned that a plague-infested person, obviously an off-worlder, crashes Calhoun's reception.  More shocking — the Lanke government insists Calhoun have nothing to do with the individual, who is shot by the authorities.  When he performs a cursory examination of the corpse, he is summarily ejected from the planet.

Whereupon he contracts the deadly disease, and his trusty tormal, the antibodies-producing cat/monkey called Murgatroyd, is unable to synthesize a cure!  Calhoun's only clue (and hope!) is the existence of a failed colony on the nearby planet of Delhi.  Perhaps there he can solve the mystery of his illness before he…and the population of Linke…succumbs to it.

Murray Leinster is often called the dean of science fiction.  He's been writing for decades, and sadly, the tape is starting to wear a little thin.  He pads out his work a lot, and his characters mostly sound alike.  There is a strange, juvenile character to his writing that feels out of place in Analog.  Honestly, it may be less a matter of literary senility, and more that of bilking an extra hundred bucks from Campbell for the extra verbiage; writers are paid by the word, after all.

But.

It's a good story, highlighting several interesting social issues (capitalism uber alles, the treatment of criminals and political dissidents, the role of medicine).  It's a great universe, one I've drawn inspiration from for my Kitra books.  And Murgatroyd is an absolute joy to read about. 

So, three stars. 

Facts to Fit the Theory, by Christopher Anvil


by Kelly Freas

The human colony of Cyrene IV is about to be invaded by the rapacious Stath.  Yet the Cyrenicans refuse to join the Terran Federation, which would protect them under the auspices of a non-aggression pact with the Stath.  All attempts to coerce an application to the Federation are thwarted by increasingly improbable events, all of which point to some kind of religio-psychic interference on the part of the colonists.

Then the Stath arrive.  Their attemps to be mean and nasty are also countered by freak occurrences, up to and including a planetary hurricane.  They leave, tail between their legs.  The human military officers are admonished to write up a full report, but to explain the chronology without invoking ESP.

Could there be a more archetypical Chris Anvil Analog story? 

  • Tongue-in-cheek?  Check.
  • Humans come out ahead?  Check.
  • Prominent figuring of psionics?  Check.
  • Authorities are stupid for not acknowleding the existence of psionics?  Check.
  • The Traveler sick of stories like this?  Check and Check.

Two stars because it's readable, but please, no more.  I beg you.

Dimensions, Anyone?, by John D. Clark, Ph.D.

A fascinating if abstruse piece from Dr. Clark.  It's about the importance of a matching set of physical dimensions for rendering useful measurements.  Forget the "English" system, and even the metric system isn't truly universal.  Clark offers up one of his own, while describing the history of the ones we currently use. 

Much denser than Asimov's stuff, but it was in my wheelhouse.  Four stars.

Letter from a Higher Critic, by Stewart Robb


by Kelly Freas

In which folks in the 22nd Century, having lost most historical sources of the 19th and 20th Century, deem that World War 2 is too improbable to have occurred as recounted.  The primary objection is that the names of all of the major players, from Roosevelt to Churchill to Adolph Hitler to Stalin, are too on-the-nose to represent real people. 

Very slight stuff.  Blink and you'll miss it.  Read and you'll forget it.

Two stars.

Too Many Magicians (Part 4 of 4), by Randall Garrett


by John Schoenherr

And now we come to the end, both of the magazine, and of this most promising murder mystery serial from Randall Garrett.  Good luck putting it down — it is a rollercoaster from the opening sequence, in which Lord D'Arcy has just dived into the Thames to rescue a bewitched woman, to the final scene, in which Chief Investigator for the Duke of Normandy identifies the culprit from among nine suspects.

It's a well-drawn whodunnit, weakened only by its separation into four parts (which the assured novelization will fix).  The solution is plausible and (mostly) independently deducible.  The guilty party makes sense.  I appreciated the quantum mechanics element of the case, too; it is impossible to observe matters without affecting them.  It makes this particular Lord D'arcy case quite dynamic.  I also noted the homage to Twelve Angry Men in one scene.

Garrett has gotten much better at handling woman characters: Mary, Dowager Duchess of Cumberland, and Demoiselle Tia Einzig are nicely realized and pivotal players.  Hard to believe this is the same fellow who wrote Queen Bee.  For the same magazine!

So, five stars for this segment, four and a half for the story as a whole, and I won't be surprised if this gets a Hugo nod in New York next year!

Summing up: Two tricks and three treats

Setting aside the Anvil and the Robb, Analog really delivered the goods this month, providing a bubble of reassuring entertainment in a frightening era.  Clocking in at 3.4 stars, it surpasses or ties with the other magazines this month except for the exceptional Science-Fantasy/Impulse (3.7 stars). 

Technically, Fantastic (3.5 stars) was also better, but given that it was largely reprints, I don't know that it's a fair comparison.  Of the all-new material mags, the order goes Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.4), New Worlds (3.1), IF (3), and Worlds of Tomorrow (2.3).

It was actually a great month for fiction.  One could fill three whole magazines with all the four and five star stuff.  Sadly, there was not a single woman-penned piece of fiction published in a pro mag with a November 1966 date. 

And with that, the unpleasant real world intrudes again.  Ah well.  I managed to avoid it for most of an article.  Maybe next month will bring happier news on this front.

[Actually, there's happier news right now!  Sirena, the second book in The Kitra Saga, has been a smash hit, and I think you'll dig it, too.  Buy a copy…you'll be supporting me and getting a great read at the same time!]



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