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Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 22, 1967] Being #3… (December 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Loser of the Pack

According to the very latest Science Fiction Weekly (formerly Degler), F&SF has failed to gain readership in the last several years.  Contrast this to the steady gains (and 2x readership in general) that Analog has enjoyed.

Van Arnam ascribes this stagnation not to the inherent superiority of Campbell's mag, but the fact that F&SF just can't get the same kind of distribution that the other mags enjoy.  The owners of Fantastic and Amazing benefit from having two mags to use as leverage.  Fred Pohl has three, sort of.  And Analog is put out by Condé Nast, which means newsstands get Analog as part of a larger package including big deal pubs like Vogue.

So the question becomes this: would F&SF score better with the fans if distribution was no longer a factor?  In other words, is F&SF a better mag than the rest?  Let's look at this month's issue and find out!

Random sample


by Jack Gaughan

Sundown, by David Redd

I always enjoy stories that mix magic with technology, and this piece by David Redd does so quite well.  The setting is distant world with a steep axial tilt and a long orbit.  Thus, for decades of its solar sojourn, whole swaths of the planet are in perpetual day or night.

Humans came to this world and drove away, enslaved, or slaughtered the natives of the northern polar continent when it was in sunlight.  They built cities, exploited the land, and in general behaved like the expansionistic menace we so often are.  Then the night came again…

As of the beginning of the tale, the dryads, gnomes, fur spirits, oreads, elves, and trolls, have lived in peace for some time, mining the abandoned human colony for metallic treasures under the endless starry night.  But the serpent is returning to paradise: Josef Somes, a human from the southern lands, is trudging north in search of valuable "life-rock", and he doesn't care who he has to kill to get it.

The hero of our story is a the White Lady, a dryad.  Her companions, a stolid, axe-wielding gnome, two fur spirits, and a cronish oread, form a squad whose mission is to dispatch the human before he can defile the fairy Homeground.

There is a lovely world here, and an unusual storytelling perspective.  If the story has any fault, it is the rather prosaic language and somewhat shallow treatment.  I feel Thomas Burnett Swann could have raised the material up to five stars.

It's still a fine piece, though, and an excellent opening to the issue.  Four stars.

The Saga of DMM, by Larry Eisenberg

The synthetic drug, DMM, is not only the tastiest substance in existence, it is the richest food imaginable.  And it's a powerful aphrodesiac.  It soon proves more popular than pot, acid, reds, whites, and heroin comined.  A wave of fornicative obesity sweeps the world, with catastrophic results.

Pretty frivolous satire.  Not really worth your time.  Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Brain Wave, by Jennifer Palmer and Stuart Palmer

A male college student is mentally contacted by a comely alien woman from from Alpha Centauri.  A friendly correspondence ensues.

I find I have very little to say about this up-front story, which reads like some kind of wish-fulfillment fantasy until the end, whereupon it has a rather silly twist conclusion (that I suppose is meant to be horrific, but it's really not).

"Mildly diverting fluff" covers it.  It straddles the 2/3 star barrier, but I think it ends up on the poorer end of the spectrum.

Cerberus, by Algis Budrys

Marty McCay is an amiable ad man, legendary for his mildness.  His method for coping with his wife's flagrant infidelities is to tell shaggy dog tales with a punning punchline.  In the end, we see that the butt of his jokes was always himself.

There's no science fiction in this tale.  What there is, however, is some excellent writing.  Four stars.

Noise, by Ted Thomas

In this month's science fact vignette, I thought Thomas was going to propose a sonic weapon.  Instead, he outlines the invention of selective ear-plugs that would blot out the bad noise, but admit desired sounds.

One of his better pieces, which is to say, it doesn't stink.

Three stars.

To Behold the Sun, by Dean R. Koontz

The first expedition to the sun is about to take off, crewed by three regular humans and a cybernetic ship-master.  Unfortunately, said cyborg is still shellshocked from losing his beloved in a fire several years prior.  And what is the sun if not a big ball of fire?

Behold feels as if Koontz read a bunch of Zelazny tales and thought, "I can do this too!"  Well, he can't.  His writing is hamfisted, the science is silly, and the situation is contrived.

Besides, if they wanted a safe trip to the sun, they should have waited until nighttime…

Two stars.

The Power of the Mandarin, by Gahan Wilson

Wilson not only provides the cartoons for each issue of F&SF, he is also an author.  Mandarin is the story of a pulp villain increasingly taking control of his creator's work, ultimately departing from the printed page into reality.

Reasonably well done, and arguably more successful than his drawings.  Three stars.

The First Metal, by Isaac Asimov

I rate an Asimov article by its memorability and quotability.  The good Doctor's discussion of the earliest knowledge of metals was pretty interesting, and I ended up summarizing the piece to my family on one of our morning walks.  The only real fault with the piece is that it would have been well served by a couple more pages.

Four stars.

The Chelmlins, by Leonard Tushnet

A droll piece about how the Jewish version of the Leprechauns helps keep the schlemiels of the Polish city of Chelm from becoming schlimazels.  It's the kind of story Avram Davidson might write, though had he done so, it may well have been funnier.  Chelmlins isn't bad, but it doesn't quite hit the mark hard enough.

Three stars.

The Cloud-Sculptors of Coral D, by J. G. Ballard

Finally, the latest story in the Vermillion Sands setting.  These tales of the rather surreal artists colony tend to be my favorite by Ballard.  This particular one involves a troupe of cloud-sculptors: glider pilots who use silver iodide and custom aircraft to create ephemeral images in the sky.  They are hired by a bitter widow possessed of extreme vanity, with deadly results.

If you've read one story, you've read them all.  They universally involve desolate landscapes, a dreamy sense of time, and have a sour undertone.  This was dramatic stuff when Ballard first came on the scene early in the decade, but it's getting a bit played out.

Three stars.

Hung jury

This issue turned out to be a bit of a mixed bag.  There are some stand-out pieces and some duds.  Most interestingly, we have a several stories that would have been well served by being written by greater talents.  On the other hand, rawer authors have to start somewhere, so I'd hate to deny them their chance to improve.

All in all, this issue would probably keep me subscribing, particularly at the discounted holiday rates.  I don't know if the quality demonstrated in the December 1967 F&SF would be sufficient to displace other mags for the Best Magazine Hugo, however, even if distribution were not an issue.

It's all academic, in the end.  As long as you order directly from the company, it doesn't really matter how many newsstands the magazine ends up on.  So tell your friends and get a subscription today.  You just might help F&SF outlast all of its competitiors!




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[November 20, 1967] Fresh Air? (December 1967 Amazing)

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by John Boston

A Fresh Heir

We have been harbinged.  When Harry Harrison, recently departed as editor of SF Impulse and suddenly appeared as book reviewer in this magazine that seemed to have eschewed features entirely, I wondered whether it was an omen of a larger change. 

And here that change is, in big letters at the top of the cover of this December Amazing: “HARRY HARRISON New Editor.” Joseph Ross is gone from the masthead and his departure is unheralded elsewhere in the magazine, though Harrison is quite gracious to him in his book review of Ross’s anthology The Best of Amazing.


by Johnny Bruck

Otherwise, the kudos are reserved for the recently-deceased Hugo Gernsback.  Harrison’s editorial is a tribute to him, and Science Fiction That Endures, Gernsback’s own guest editorial from the April 1961 anniversary issue, is reprinted.  Gernsback says among other things that enduring SF stories are those that “have as their wonder ingredient true or prophetic science,” and notes that Jules Verne and H.G. Wells wrote most of their notable SF early in their careers, later succumbing to “science fiction fatigue—the creative science distillate of the mind had been exhausted.” That sounds scientific!

But does this change in masthead mean any actual material change in this too frequently lackluster magazine?

The most visible difference is that the cover and title page have suddenly become more crowded.  Nine items are touted on the cover, five of them touted as “NEW” and others as “SPECIAL” or even “XTRA SPECIAL.” There’s so much puffery going on that the cover illustration, by Johnny Bruck from the German Perry Rhodan periodical, is confined to the bottom third of the cover, though little harm is done, since it’s quite horizontal in orientation, depicting a spaceship traveling very low and being pursued by flying snakes.  Beat that, Frank R. Paul! 

Other aspects of the magazine’s presentation represent both continuity and change.  The proofreading is still terrible; look no farther than the misspelling “Lester del Ray” on the title page of his story.  And curiously, part of the magazine—pages 90 through 125—is in a different, smaller typeface than the rest, though this increase in wordage is not touted on the cover or elsewhere.

As to the contents, the balance is shifted only a little.  Two short stories and the serial installment are original, one story is probably reprinted but this is its first appearance in English, and four short stories are reprinted from earlier issues of Amazing and Fantastic.  And of course we don’t know whether Harrison actually had much of a hand in selecting what went into this first issue of his incumbency.  But the question of reprints versus new material seems to be a continuing sore point.  Note the column on the left side of the cover—five iterations of "NEW"—which musters everything in the magazine that's not a reprint, including the book review column.

So, too early to tell, but promising—it almost has to be, given Amazing’s doldrums of mediocrity to date under Sol Cohen.  As Bob Dylan, the alleged troubadour of my generation, put it:

I wish I was on some Australian mountain range.
I wish I was on some Australian mountain range.
I got no reason to be there, but I imagine it would be some kind of change. 

Santaroga Barrier (Part 2 of 3), by Frank Herbert


by Gray Morrow

First, to the non-reprinted fiction.  The longest piece of fiction here is the second installment of Frank Herbert’s serial Santaroga Barrier, in which the suggestively named Gilbert Dasein tries to unlock the secret of the reclusive town of Santaroga, which seems to involve a psychoactive substance called Jaspers that the locals all consume.  As usual I’ll hold my comments until the story is complete.

The Forest of Zil, by Kris Neville


by Jeff Jones

Kris Neville, who contributed prolifically to the SF magazines during the early 1950s but slowed down considerably thereafter, opens the issue with The Forest of Zil, a cryptic story of space explorers who land on a planet entirely covered in forest and begin to make plans to clear trees to make space for human activities.  The forest begs leave to differ, and its response can be read either as an epic in brief of raising the ante exponentially, like A.E. van Vogt but not as noisy, or as a weary parody of the entire conceptual armamentarium of SF.  Or maybe something else!  How many faces can you find lurking in the coffee shop placemat?  Four stars for this subtly memorable piece.

The Million Year Patent, by Charles L. Harness


by Jeff Jones

Charles L. Harness, a patent lawyer by day, is present with The Million Year Patent, in which the technicalities of patent law collide with those of relativity, not very interestingly to this lay person.  Two stars.

An Unusual Case, by Gennadiy Gor

The “Sensational Story from behind the Iron Curtain” per the cover is Gennadiy Gor’s An Unusual Case, translated from Russian by one Stanley Frye.  Gor, born to a family exiled to Siberia by the Tsar, was apparently part of the avant-garde in the Soviet Union in the 1920s, but survived to write popular science texts as well, and to start writing SF in 1961.  There’s no indication where this story was previously published, if at all.  It’s a first-person account by the creator of an artificial intelligence (apparently at least humanoid; a hand is mentioned) of his rearing of this pseudo-child, which is cut short when representatives of the corporation that financed the project come to take it away, as it protests piteously.  It’s short and poignant, though blunted a bit by not making much sense; the ingenue develops detailed memories of human life that its creator didn’t put there.  Three stars, and I hope we see more of Gor’s work here (or anywhere).

The Smile, by Ray Bradbury


by L. Sterne Stevens

The ”Ray Bradbury Masterpiece” touted on the cover is The Smile, from the Summer 1952 Fantastic, set in what seems like an American town after a nuclear war has mostly destroyed civilization and left everyone who survived destitute.  People of course respond in the only logical way—by destroying or defiling any available relics of the former civilization.  A while back it was smashing an old car with sledgehammers; today everyone is lining up to spit on a fragment of a famous painting (clue: the title).  But young Tom just can’t get with the program.  It’s a bit overdone, but Bradbury’s overdone is better than many writers’ perfectly-baked.  Or something like that.  Three stars.

Stacked Deck, by Lester del Rey

Our Journeyer-in-Chief recently had occasion to mention “the sort of inferior stuff that filled the lesser mags of the ’50s.” Here’s the real article, Lester del Rey’s Stacked Deck from the November 1952 Amazing.  Del Rey is one of SF’s hardy journeyman professionals, in the game since 1937 as writer, first for John Campbell’s Astounding and Unknown, then for everyone in sight during the 1950s’ efflorescence of SF magazines.  In the ‘50s he edited magazines and anthologies and wrote novels as well as stories, including a prodigious ten of them under various pseudonyms for the Winston series of juvenile SF.  Occasionally he excelled, and his work almost always maintained a basic level of competence.

Almost always.  Sometimes a working writer just has to crank it out, inspiration or no, as in this excruciatingly contrived piece.  Before it opens, a man flew to the moon, without enough fuel to get back, expecting to be rescued in time by a later expedition.  (This already makes no sense.) But that rocketeer, inexplicably, showed up again on Earth, talking about entities he encountered on the moon but claiming scrambled memory.  So a better-equipped expedition sets out, only to discover that the Russians are neck and neck with them.  All this is told in an annoyingly jaunty, I’m-just-a-regular-guy first person style, as in the opening sentence: “The bright boys with their pep talks about space and the lack of gravity should try it once!”


by Ed Emshwiller

Upon landing, our heroes find a building with an airlock, and inside, a nice lounge with red leather chairs, a cigarette machine, and plenty of alcohol and food, along with a machine shop and a lot of electronic gear, with signs and manuals in English and Russian—and a vault full of missiles, ready to be armed with warheads.  They surmise the Russians are finding something similar.

So what gives?  All along there have been passing references to gambling, such as the protagonist’s having bought a sweepstakes ticket, and racing magazines lying around, some inside the mysterious building.  Our hero picks up one of the latter and finds a note in it written by the aliens who set up the building, explaining that they are all betting on whether the Earthfolk will blow themselves up in short order, or avoid extermination and come calling on the aliens a bit later.  Narrator ruminates: “I don’t like being the booby prize in a cosmic lottery.  And that’s all the human race is now, I guess.”

And that arid gimmick is the story, with no other redeeming feature.  Del Rey must have been short on the rent that month.  One star. 

Luvver, by Mack Reynolds

Speaking of gimmicks, arid ones that is, Mack Reynolds’s Luvver (Fantastic Adventures, June 1950) is about as contrived as Stacked Deck.  Old Donald Macbride and his flirtatious daughter Patricia are having spaceship problems and make an emergency landing on a handy planet despite the “RESTRICTED ZONE.  LANDING FORBIDDEN” warning that comes over the radio. The local garrison, consisting of Steve and Dave, hustles them off their ship—blindfolded—and into their quarters, warning them not to look around, not to go outside, not to open the windows, without explaining why. 

But Patricia, of course, goes outside, and before Steve can drag her in, she sees a little animal–a luvver.  He knocks her out and the guys shoot her up with “the lethe drug,” since wiping her memory is her only hope.  Steve explains to the old man that all animals have means of defense—speed, size, venom, scent, etc.  The luvvers’ defense is eliciting undying love—“a stronger force than the most vicious narcotic”—in anyone or anything that sees them.  If Patricia retains her memories, she will “die of melancholy” if kept away from them, and if they escaped their world, pandemonium would ensue.

The gimmick is slightly less inane than del Rey’s, and Reynolds writes in a style more facile and natural than del Rey’s artificial and irritating voice, so two stars, barely.

Sub-Satellite, by Charles Cloukey

The gem of the issue, remarkably, is Charles L. Cloukey’s Sub-Satellite, from the March 1928 Amazing.  It recounts a great inventor’s construction of a spaceship and his voyage to the Moon in it, and the attempt on his life there by a disgruntled and demented former employee who has stowed away.  It is well told in an agreeable, slightly stilted but very plain style with a good balance of narration and exposition, reminding me of (my old memories of) Jules Verne.  It too ends with a gimmick—one that has been used in later decades by better-known writers—but there’s much more of a story here than in del Rey’s or Reynolds’s efforts, so it doesn’t detract from the whole.  Four stars.

So who’s this Cloukey?  Never heard of him, though I’m familiar with most of Gernsback’s repeat contributors.  Turns out he died in 1931, at age 19, of typhoid fever, after publishing eight stories, a poem, and a serial novel in Gernsback’s magazines.  Sub-Satellite was his first story, and he was not quite 16 when it was published.  Forget G. Peyton Wertenbaker, whose The Man from the Atom, done when he was 16, was pretty terrible—Cloukey is the real prodigy of the Gernsback years.  Too bad he didn’t last.

Summing Up

So, not a bad issue, with a couple of four-star stories, and some evidence (mainly the cover and table of contents) that the new regime at least wants to make the magazine look a bit livelier.  Whether a sustained improvement is in process of course remains to be seen.




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[November 8, 1967] Four to go (December 1967 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

The New Frontier

Tomorrow, history will be made: the first Saturn V, largest rocket in the history of the world, will take off.  If successful, Project Apollo's launch vehicle will be "man-rated", and one hurdle between humanity and the moon will have been cleared.

Of course, we'll have full coverage of the event after it happens, but this sneak preview makes a dandy segue.  For today's article is on a literary type of explorer: Galaxy magazine.  Unlike Apollo, Galaxy, which started in 1950, is a tried, tested, and even somewhat tired entity.  Back in 1959, Galaxy moved to a larger, but bimonthly, format.  This has not been an entirely successful endeavor, and in few issues are the problems more glaring than in this one.  For if an editor needs to fill up 196 pages every other month (not to mention the 164 pages of one or two sister magazines), that editor's standards must sometimes slip…

The Old Frontier


by Gray Morrow

Outpost of Empire, by Poul Anderson

Out on the edge of space lies the mineral-poor planet of Freehold. Thinly settled by humans, and then also by the alien Arulians, it lies just outside the Empire.  A growing insurgency threatens to topple the existing order, and Ridenour, an imperial troubleshooter, is sent in to monitor the situation.


by Gray Morrow

Sounds pretty nifty, but it's not.  The first twenty pages of this seventy-page piece are nothing but characters explaining the story to each other.  Skimming the rest of the tale, I determined that it's all more of the same.  Moreover, Poul doesn't even try to disguise what he's doing.  He spotlights it by having his endlessly explaining protagonist marvel at what a pedant he's being–and when other characters do the same thing, he inwardly notes how much a pedant they're being.

As Kris notes:

Rule 1 of writing: If your characters are finding what you are doing contrived, so will the reader.

The whole thing is written in that archaic style Poul reverts to when given the chance, though there's no reason to do so in this book.  He also can't resist being a bit sexist, even in a story that takes place thousands of years from now.  Dig this gem:

"But in the parks, roses and Jasmine were abloom; and elsewhere the taverns brawled with merriment.  The male citizens were happily acquiring the money that the Imperialists brought with them; the females were still more happily helping spend it."

Because in the future, women don't work; they are parasites on the real producers–the men.

Feh.  One star.

That already gets us nearly halfway through the book.  Things do not immediately improve…

The South Waterford Rumple Club, by Richard Wilson


by Jack Gaughan

Aliens drop bags of counterfeit money on a small American town.  Economic collapse ensues, facilitating an extraterrestrial takeover.

I was about to write that Wilson was an unknown name to me, but looking through the archives, I see he's made several appearances in science fiction magazines over the past two years.  He's just eminently forgettable.  This story does not change the trend.  For one, he spends a couple of pages giving a history lesson as to why an influx of fake currency is such a deadly weapon–akin to anthrax and mustard gas.  And then we get a tedious demonstration of such an attack, followed by a couple of pages of (not well thought out) aftermath.

This is the sort of inferior stuff that filled the lesser mags of the '50s.  It doesn't belong here.

Two stars.

Thank goodness for Silverbob.  From here on, out, the issue is quite good.  But you have to make it to page 96!  (or simply skip the dross)

King of the Golden World, by Robert Silverberg

Elena, a human, has married Haugan, chief of a tribe of aliens that lives on an island dominated by twin volcanic mounts.  Theirs is a genuine love, despite their divergent evolutions, but full understanding still eludes the Earth woman.  Though the mountain on which the village is sited is clearly about to erupt, Haugan seems in no hurry to evacuate his people.  It is only on the eve of disaster that Elena learns the true, alien nature of Haugan's people.  Will she embrace it or be repelled?

This is really quite a sensitive story, timeless and nuanced.  I suspect it was influenced by Silverberg's recent nonfiction histories of the original American inhabitants (collectively referred to as "Indians").

Four stars.

For Your Information: Astronautics International, by Willy Ley

Ten years ago, it was enough to keep up with the Soviets and the Americans if you wanted to know what was up in space.  These days, Earth's orbit has become a truly international province, and this month's article focuses on the efforts of the non-superpowers, of which there are many.

As a space buff, articles on satellites always score extra marks with me, so I hope our tastes are aligned.  Four stars.

Black Corridor, by Fritz Leiber

A man awakens, naked, without memories, inside a featureless corridor.  Ahead of him lie two doors: one is labeled "Water", the other "Air".  Behind him a wall moves toward him implacably.  Choose…or die.

But beyond the first pair of doors is another, and another.  Is this a test?  Will the test end?  And what is its purpose?

Less a science fiction story and more a metaphor for life itself, this piece's worth depends solely on the execution.  Thankfully, Leiber is up to the task.

Four stars.

The Red Euphoric Bands, by Philip Latham

A comet is heading straight for an Earth on the brink of atomic war.  Is it our doom…or our salvation?

On the one hand, the storytelling and the science are quite excellent.  On the other, the conclusion is silly.  Moreover, there is a fundamental fault in this otherwise accurate piece: a comet with a two light year orbit would have a period of around six billion years–too high to serve the purposes of the story.

Thus, three stars.

Galactic Consumer Report No. 3: A Survey of the Membership, by John Brunner

The first galactic survey, conducted by Good Buy magazine, turned out to be something of a fiasco–too many beings responded, and they were just too variegated to provide anything like a profile of "an average consumer".  Yet, you couldn't call the exercise less than successful…

This series tends to be silly and throw-away, but this installment I liked a lot.  Why?  Because it's almost like a Theodore Thomas article from his F&SF column–a couple dozen story seeds all in one piece.  So many stories feature aliens that are little more than humans in costume.  This one presents some real aliens.  It also made me laugh a few times.

So, four stars.

Handicap, by Larry Niven


by Jack Gaughan

On the former Kzin world of Down, orbiting a feeble red dwarf, humans have established an agricultural colony.  In addition to its colorful history, Down offers another attraction: the Grogs.  These are comical-looking, human-sized creatures that have two phases in life.  At first, they are four-legged creatures with a dog-like intelligence.  In this form, they rove the deserts of Down, hunting and mating.  Eventually, the females anchor themselves to a rock, where they stay the rest of their lives.

And yet, these creatures have enormous brains, suggesting a great intelligence.  Why did they evolve them, and what can they do with them?  Garvey, an entrepreneur whose line is making prosthetics for "Handicapped" species, ones without manipulative organs of their own (e.g. dolphins, the enormous Bandersnatchi of planet Jinx), smells an opportunity.

Handicap, like last year's A Relic of Empire, expands what is becoming a sweeping common universe, tying in the Kzinti of The Warriors, the Thrintun of World of Ptavvs, and the hyperdrive era of Beowulf Shaeffer.  What I really like about Niven is that he isn't in a hurry to tell his story.  There are asides and subplots, weaving a meandering course through entertaining vignettes, before tying everything together at the end.  Niven's universe feels lived in, and all of its facets are interesting.  That there's a nifty story at the heart of Handicap is a bonus…though my eyebrows were raised a bit by this exchange:

Garvey: "For as long as we expand to other stars we're going to meet more and more handless, toolless, helpless civilizations.  Sometimes we won't even recognize them.  What are we going to do about them?"

Jilson (a guide): "Build Dolphin's Hands for them."

Garvey: "Well, yes, but we can't just give them away.  Once one species starts depending on another, they become parasites."

This feels a bit like an indictment of welfare, foreign aid…or assistance to the handicapped.  I would not jump to concluding that Garvey's views necessarily represent Niven's views, but I also would not be surprised, as he is a hereditary millionaire, and the plutocracy often thinks ill of public demands on their wealth.  I will simply note that I think Garvey is being short-sighted.  Isn't it worth the investment of a little charity to create an entirely new potential market of both imports and exports?  If you give away limbs to the crippled, schools to the poor, food to the starving, will they really just sit on their duffs?  Or will they simply now be unencumbered members of society, ready to participate fully?  I submit that equalization of opportunity through government assistance and charity actually serves capitalism rather than subverts it.

Well, that's a tiny quibble, and again, just because Garvey thinks this way doesn't mean the author does.  If anything, I'm glad he gave me something to think about–along with a good story!

Four stars.

The Fairly Civil Service, by Harry Harrison


by Jack Gaughan

A day in the life of the postal clerk of the future.  A particularly bad, seemingly endless day.  The kind that tries a person's soul…or tests one's abilities.

Harrison is reliably good.  He does not disappoint here.  Four stars.

To the Black Beyond

Having trudged through a barren literary landscape for half the span of a magazine, it was comforting to have solid ground to trod for the latter half.  But now that the Galaxy is done, I am once again adrift.  Who knows what lies in store within the covers of the next magazine or paperback that will cross my desk?  Like the expanses of space, it's all an unknown adventure.

Luckily, there are still enough treasures waiting to be found to make the journey worth it!



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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial, Uncategorized

[November 4, 1967] Conflicts (December 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

Conflicts at home over the conflict abroad

It seems like scarcely a day goes by without images of young people protesting showing up on the evening news and landing on our doorsteps. These days, it’s usually about the war in Vietnam as President Johnson ratchets up the number of troops involved yet again. Monday, October 16th saw the start of Stop the Draft week. Induction centers in cities all over the country were blockaded by protesters, while many young men either burned their draft cards or attempted to hand them in to authorities, which is now a criminal offense. Arrests were plentiful. In Oakland alone, 125 people (including singer Joan Baez) were arrested, and I’ve seen estimates that as many as 1,000 draft cards were either burned or turned in. The week culminated in a march on the Pentagon. Check back later this month for an eyewitness account from the Journey’s Vickie Lucas.

Joan Baez is arrested in Oakland.

Of course, the protests didn’t end there. On October 27th, Father Philip Berrigan, Rev. James Mengel and two other men, forced their way into Selective Service office in Baltimore, Maryland and poured blood into several file drawers containing draft records. The men have refused bail and are being held awaiting trial.

Fr. Berrigan pouring blood into a file drawer.

Conflicts big and small

When we study literature in school, we’re usually taught that conflict is one of the most important elements in narrative and drama. It’s often broken down into three types: man against man, man against nature and man against self. The December issue of IF has them all.

Futuristic combat in The City of Yesterday. Art by Chaffee

Continue reading [November 4, 1967] Conflicts (December 1967 IF) →

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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[October 31, 1967] Same ol' (November 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Iran's "new" King

This week's foreign news was dominated by affairs in the Middle East.  When the papers weren't talking about the United Nations futilely trying to hammer out a peace treaty between Israel and Egypt (whose conflict has become a continuous low burn rather than a short conflagration), they were gushing over the crowing of Persia's "King of Kings".

Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlevi, the uncrowned king of Iran for the last 26 years, chose his 48th birthday to crown himself Light of the Aryans, emperor of "the world's oldest monarchy."  Also crowned was his wife, Farah, who became the first empress of Persia since the 7th century A.D.

Taking place in the dazzling Hall of Mirros in Gole-stan Palace, the event was possibly the most expensive coronation in history, with newspaper accounts breathlessly describing the type and number of jewels employed in the various accoutrements of state and decorations.  The affair concluded with 101-gun salutes, kicking off a week of celebrations that are just wrapping up today.

According to the Shah, the reason for the long delay between ascension to rule and formalization of said rule was that he did not want to take the grand title until Iran had become a modern, prosperous state.

My only aim is to further the prosperity and glory of my nation, and make Iran the most progressive country in the world, resurrecting its ancient glory and grandeur. For this I will not hesitate to sacrifice my life.

While the newspapers and newsreels seem dazzled by the Shah's extravaganza, many of Iran's 25 million people were less impressed.  One young woman, student at the Tehran University, would have fit right in at this spring's protests of the Shah's visit to West Germany:

Why should he spend all this money on his coronation?  There are so many poor people.  He should give them the money.

It should also be noted that while the Shah did take the throne of Iran in 1941, his reign was not uninterrupted.  Unmentioned in all the newspaper accounts I could find of the coronation was the two-year tenure of Mohammed Mosaddeq, the democratically elected but leftist prime minister of Iran from 1951-1953.  During the Mosaddeq administration, the Shah fled the country, only returning when a coup removed Mossadeq from power—an event which, if not instigated with assistance from the United States and the United Kingdom, was certainly extremely convenient for both governments.

Magazine of Magazines

It has been a couple of years since Analog Science Fiction won the Hugo Award for Best Magazine, but there's no question that it still reigns supreme both in subscribers and general esteem.  However, some have complained that editor John Campbell does not do enough to mix up the contents of his publication, relying on the same bunch of authors every month, resulting in a somewhat tired affair.

This month, there are no old hands in the table of contents, but like the throne of Iran, has anything really changed?


by Kelly Freas

Coup, by Guy McCord


by Kelly Freas

What a strange opening novella this is: a long lost colony world is peopled by numerous bands of Scots, operating at an 18th Century technology level…but with an American Indian organization.  The latter seems eclectic, using terms like sachem, cacique, as well as counting coup, but no explanation as to why these marooned Celts adopted customs from the western hemisphere are forthcoming.

Anyway, this is the tale of John of the Hawks, a boy on the verge of manhood, who achieves maturity by counting coup on three cattle-rustling men of Clan Thompson.  His ascension is delayed by the arrival of men from another world.  They represent themselves as scouts, but what they really want is the abundant platinum deposits on planet Caledonia.

The outworlders don't actually play much part in this story.  Mostly, we get scenes of John of the Hawks riding horses, battling rival clansmen, facing off against and falling in love with Alice of the Thompsons–a lass who is Every Bit as Good as a Man.  It all reads like a dime Western.

And if "Guy McCord" isn't Mack Reynolds, I'll eat my hat.  From the interspersed history lessons to the trademark invented slang, it's got his fingerprints all over it.

A low three stars.

Prostho Plus, by Piers Anthony


by Kelly Freas

The writer of the execrable Chthon has thankfully returned to short stories.  This is a readable, if not particularly remarkable, tale of a dentist who is tasked with filling the molars of an alien.

A story like this would usually be played for laughs, but Prostho is done straight, with an underlying tinge of horror.

Three stars.

The Case of the Perjured Planet, by Martin Loran


by Kelly Freas

The interstellar librarian, name of Quist, is back for his second story.  Using the purveying of books as a cover, the librarian corps is really a division of agents whose job is to monitor the various governments of the galactic confederation.

This time around, Quist is investigating a planet with a secret: it's not that there's evidence that the drab, earthquake-riven world of Napoleon 6 harbors something hidden, but rather the lack thereof.  Quist, knee-deep in 20th Century style detective novels, decides to take a page from Sam Spade's book, and opens up a private detective agency on the planet in the hopes that the clues will come to him.

Like last time, it's not a tale that will stick with you, but there's a maturity to the story's telling that suggests Loran is 1) quite a good writer who just needs a better subject/venue or 2) "Loran" is as real a name as "Guy McCord", and a quite good writer is slumming in Campbell's mag.

Three stars.

Applied Science Fiction, by Will F. Jenkins

And now for the highlight of the issue.  Will Jenkins, better known to the science fiction community as Murray Leinster, is not only a renowned writer–he also is an inventor.  Here is the tale of how he conceived the incredibly useful technology of front projection, allowing actors to appear in ready-made projected scenery in a far more convincing and versatile manner than rear projection.

I really enjoyed this piece, and bravo Mr. Jenkins.  Five stars.

The Cure-All Merchant, by Jack Wodhams


by Kelly Freas

A doctor manages a successful practice by dealing in placebos, much to the horror of the straight man inspector assigned to investigate his activities.  This piece goes on endlessly, asserting that drugs are useless, and the human mind is all.

Ducks like a quack.  One star.

Mission: Red Plague, by Joe Poyer


by Kelly Freas

This last piece is a sort of sequel to Operation: Red Clash, again involving the mythical X-17 hypersonic reconaissance plane.  This time, the spy jet observes the deployment of a biological plague on the Sino-Soviet front.  The problem is the X-17 cockpit isn't completely airtight…

Poyer writes competent Caidenesque technophiliac stuff, but he has trouble hanging an interesting story on it.

Another low three stars.

Spot the difference?

On the surface, it appears Analog has gotten out of its rut, exploring the output of several new authors.  But it doesn't take much inspection to see that Campbell's mag offers more of the same, between the pseudo-Reynolds piece, the workmanlike Loran, Anthony and Poyer, and the truly bad (but Campbell-pleasing) Wodhams.  Only the Jenkins/Leinster is truly noteworthy, pulling the issue up to a three star rating.

That puts it below Fantasy & Science Fiction (3.25) and New Worlds (3.2) and above IF (2.8) and Fantastic (2.7) In other words, middlin', which one would expect of a mag doing the same ol', same ol'.

For those keeping up with statistics, the amount of superlative stuff this month could fill a Galaxy-sized mag; not terrific given that five magazines came out with a November 1967 cover date.  Women produced a surprising 12.5% of all new short fiction, an achievement rendered less impressive for those stories all appearing in one magazine–F&SF, which was the best magazine of the month.

So here's hoping Analog goes for real change next month rather than the veneer of change.  Maybe it'll be a failed experiment…or maybe Campbell will get to oversee a new Golden Age.  Be bold, John!




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[October 24, 1967] War, Anti-utopias and Near-Future Apocalypses New Worlds, November 1967

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

As the weather turns distinctly autumnal here, I guess that we can say Goodbye to the so-called “Summer of Love”. Here in Britain I can’t say I’ve noticed major social changes, and certainly not as much as you in California – but it has at least brought me The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper album, which has been a constant source of entertainment here since its release in June.

Whilst it is not on the British streets, such images of casual living, sex, drugs and rock and roll are still in my British magazine, of course. It feels like there’s at least one story every month that relates to this. Recently it was Thomas Disch’s Camp Concentration, and now… well, I’ll get to that later.

Not only that, but this issue seems to have a general theme of conflict about it.

Here’s the issue.

Cover by Vivienne Young

Article: Peace and Paradox by John T. Sladek

An example of the logic shown in this article. Not sure I understood this!

In recent months these first articles in the magazine have been pretty intense, dealing with aspects of philosophy, mathematics and psychology that have made me have to read them more than once to get any understanding.

This month’s is even more esoteric, showing a connection between war and peace in War Game Theory through mathematics that made my head spin. No named writer in the title, although the cover states that it is by John Sladek. Its relevance as a theme may be deliberate, on reading the Book Reviews later this month. 3 out of 5.

An Age (Part 2 of 3) by Brian W. Aldiss

Here’s this month’s drug-culture story.

Continuing from last month’s first part, Edward Bush and his new girlfriend Ann take a mind-trip to the Jurassic using the mind-altering drug CSD. They meet stegosauri and go to a town set up by other travellers from the future. Bush wanders away from the town bar and is attacked. Separated from Ann, he returns to the world of 2093, where we discover that this world whence they came is a rather unpleasant place run by a dictator named General Peregrine Bolt, which is why many people transport themselves to the past.

Bush meets his family to renew his strained relationship with his father and finds that his mother has died whilst he was travelling. He is then arrested by the Wenlock Institute, the place where mind-travel was invented, for overstaying his mind-travel journey, but really it seems that this is just an excuse for Bush to be interrogated by Franklyn, the Deputy of the Institute.

Towards the end we seem to stray into satire as Bush is press-ganged into Bolt’s new Mind-Travel Police Squad. After training, he is sent back into the past as part of Ten Squad to capture and kill the scientist-traitor Silverstone, who has wandered off. It very much reminded me of Harry Harrison’s Bill, the Galactic Hero in its amusement at the idiocy of training soldiers for war.

Despite this veer into humour, this serial still feels like something from a middle-class writer trying to broaden his range in an attempt to appear gritty and progressive. Bush refers to Ann as “a slag” and “a cow” – charming! For a middle-of-the-story-part, this one was a little uneven, but acceptable, though worse as it went along. 3 out of 5.

Article: The Terror-Pleasure Paradox by Christopher Finch

Example of Self's imagery.

This month’s ‘artycle’ examines the “selective naturalism” of Colin Self. The “Terror-Pleasure Paradox” is namely that by using “nuclear warfare paraphernalia” in a manner which verges on advertising it therein creates a paradox – something that should frighten, yet at the same time may provide pleasure.

In its combination of provocative war imagery, modern machinery and even eroticism it all seems very Ballard-ian to me and therefore will be appreciated by many New Worlds readers. Me, I’m not so sure. 3 out of 5.

Stand on Zanzibar (excerpt) by John Brunner

Uncredited image, but it looks like a Douthwaite, who is credited in the magazine.

From John Brunner there’s an excerpt from his latest book (due next year.) This one, I must admit, is a revelation, but actually not as entirely new as it claims to be.

The title comes from the idea that if you took all of the world’s population and stood them together, they would occupy a space merely that of the island of Zanzibar. The introduction refers to the work of John Dos Passos, which seems to have this style of lots of different styles of writing, in a cut-up manner that Ballard would be proud of. It’s certainly something we’ve seen much of in New Worlds recently.

We don’t get a narrative here as such, more of a taste of a big, complex future world. Donald Hogan is a corporate executive for General Technics in New York. He has the ability to make the right guesses, which is part of his job as a synthesist. As seen through Donald, New York is a busy city, under a dome and overpopulated with people, and noisy. Advertising is everywhere, a culture of consumerism dominant. Its multicultural streets at night are a dazzling blend of energy, suppressed violence and pseudo cab drivers.

We also meet Poppy Shelton, a young pregnant girl who goes to visit the doctors. In contrast to Hogan’s, hers is a world of squalor made bearable by casual psychedelic drugs.

To show all of this, we have disparate forms of prose presented in that cut-up manner we’ve seen in a lot of stories here. There is some sort of street-speak language, academic descriptions of a future multi-ethnic society, quotes from people in the street, advertising slogans and signage to show this, often in short sentences. It is a world of government-decreed abortions, riots and casual drug usage.

Another uncredited image that looks like a Douthwaite.

Although this is only a taster, it is interesting – and perhaps most important of all, makes me want to read more, as the point of Donald and Poppy are unclear based on this. It seems to combine the ideas of Harry Harrison’s Make Room! Make Room! with the style of Thomas Disch’s Camp Concentration to create a multifaceted, kaleidoscopic view of this near-future world. Who knows where this near-future dystopia is going?

It’s just a shame that it is an extract, as the book sounds BIG – the introduction points out that they would have liked to have run it as a serial, but a fifteen-part serial was not viable. If the rest of the book is like this, Stand on Zanzibar may be the most ambitious, yet simultaneously accessible work of the British New Wave of SF to date, although I am aware that the novel may be just style over substance. Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks?

This might be one of the most intriguing stories I’ve read recently, so much so that I can see it in the Awards nominations next year – providing that the rest matches this extract, of course! 4 out of 5.

After Galactic War by Michael Butterworth
Sharing the horror in full – another poetic gem – well, they seem to be liked by some!

Oh, oh – more poetry alert! To quote: “i looked out of the forehead of a doubledecker bus and my legs were wheels”… indeed. I suspect the author’s been visiting that new New York of Brunner’s… 2 out of 5.

Wine on an Empty Stomach by George Collyn

Illustration by Cawthorn

It’s been a while since we’ve seen George as an author in these pages – he has been better known for reviewing books recently, of which there are some later!

His story is a decent effort at writing in the New Wave form about a post-apocalyptic future as written from different people’s perspectives: a group of literary readers, a soldier, an obsessive book hoarder, an amateur philosopher and a prostitute whose lives come together at the end to create a new future. I quite liked this one, divided into chapters that each told of another person, each adding another element of the story to make a coherent narrative at the end. Of course, this being British anti-utopia, it all ends badly.  4 out of 5.

Article: Off-Beat Generation by Dr. John W. Gardner

The future of energy?

No Dr. Christopher Evans this month, so not a medical-based article. Instead, Dr. John W. Gardner looks at how to secure future energy production in a world where the population is growing. Talk of fuel cells (see photo) and thermonuclear reactors ensue. Quite heavy on the science this one. Like the leading article this month, it’s interesting, but I wouldn’t say that I understood it all. 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

George Collyn reappears in his now more regular role here, as book reviewer. This month The Playboy Book of Science Fiction and Fantasy makes “good reading” and August Derluth’s “less robust” story collection, Over the Edge much less so. The Tenth Galaxy Reader, edited by Frederik Pohl, is “thoroughly professional” but “fairly conventional”, which seems to echo comments on the magazine around here at Galactic Journey. The Last Castle is “typical Vance”, with World of the Sleeper by Tony Russell Wayman being a swashbuckling better buy.

As has been a pattern over the last few Book Reviews, the last reviews this month are in more detail and determinedly not genre-based. Professor Gordon A. Craig writes of War, Politics and Diplomacy, no doubt as an adjunct to the leading article at the beginning of the magazine. Secondly, Dr. Donald West looks at the issue of juvenile delinquency in his book The Young Offender.

Summing up New Worlds

And that’s it for this month. This issue feels like it has less quantity than normal, although the quality of what is there is of the usual good standard. The star for me this month is the Brunner extract, although I am wary of being overenthusiastic. Nevertheless, I am hoping it holds up when it becomes a “proper” novel. It has the potential to be something special.

I am enjoying the Aldiss more than some of his more recent stories, I must admit, although the last part of the story seemed to fizzle out a bit. The Collyn was better than I thought it was going to be, which was a pleasant surprise.

So, all in all, not a bad issue – again.

After writing this article, I did hear of an interesting rumour about New Worlds. Gossip has it that the new direction of the magazine may not be leading to increased sales. There are rumblings in the ether that Mike Moorcock is having to go with metaphorical cap-in-hand to the publishers to gain further finance. Does this put the magazine at risk again? Possibly. More in the future as I get it.

An advertisement from this month's magazine that shows how different book sales and New Worlds magazine is, perhaps? How many of these authors are mentioned in detail in the magazine these days?

Until the next!



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[October 22, 1967] Equal Opportunity Employer (November 1967 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

It is the Policy of the United States Government

Say what you will about LBJ's unfortunate Vietnam policy, there's no question but that his last four years in office have seen more progress on the Civil Rights front than any four decades since the 15th Amendment.

Case in point: just over a week ago, on October 13, 1967, the President signed Executive Order 11375. 

It is desirable that the equal employment opportunity programs provided for in Executive Order No. 11246 expressly embrace discrimination on account of sex.

Hencefoth, in the federal government, and in any federally contracted organization, there must be no discrimination on the basis of sex.


Dorothy Hudson Jacobson, USDA Assistant Secretary for International Affairs


Evelyn Brown; starting in 1963, she was the first woman since WW2 to deliver mail in the nation's capital

It does not immediately solve the rampant inequality and sexist structure in our society, but it is the first step.  An important one.  Not just for justice and quality of life, but for the prosperity of our nation.  For when half the population is allowed to participate without fetter, the fruits in terms of production and innovation, must necessarily more than double, but perhaps even quadruple.

It is the Policy of F&SF

This is something the editorial staff at The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has always known.  While women have only produced 10% of all published science fiction stories, F&SF has always printed a disproportionate number of them.  When there were thirty monthly magazines, F&SF alone published half of the stories by women.  I daresay its a big reason why F&SF has both managed to remain in the top tiers of the SF digests, and also why F&SF seems to have the highest readership of women.

Nearly half the text in this month's issue (including the only book column penned by a woman) is female-made.  It is perhaps not a surprise that this is one of the better issues of the magazine this year.  After all, when one opens up the lists to all comers rather than just half of them, there's more quality to choose from.


by Gray Morrow

The Sword Swallower, Ron Goulart

But first, a slight misstep.  Ron Goulart is pretty good at witty stories with an element of earthiness.  In particular, his stories about his occult detective, Max Kearney, and the tales of the shapechanging agent, Ben Jolson, are generally something to look forward to.


Ron Goulart

Swallower is a story of the latter, but sadly, it is not up to Goulart's usual standard.  In this piece, Ben is sent to a planet that specializes in sanatoria and funerals–life and death in one package–to investigate the disappearances (and presumed kidnappings) of several government officials.  It reads like someone ghost wrote a Goulart story, containing all the requisite elements, but failing to deliver on humor or interest.

Two stars.

Ballet Nègre, Charles Birkin

The next story is something of a failure, too, about an investigative reporter who must interview the star duo of dancers in a Haitian troupe.  Their ability to walk in flames, their complete silence, and their ghostly pallor intrigue him.

Well, of course they're zombies, and bog standard zombies of the type we've seen in fiction and on teevee for decades.  It's all sort of breathless and lurid, and entirely unsurprising.

Two stars.


Gahan Wilson

Ah, but beginning with the book column (in which Judy Merril promises she will soon have another volume of her controversial but always genre-broadening "Year's Best" anthologies soon), the magazine takes a decided turn for the better.

The Vine, Kit Reed

In a rustic somewhere and somewhen, the vine grows.  It produces the most sumptuous grapes, the most viridian foliage.  But the vine is not for use by humans.  Quite the opposite.  For generations, the Baskin family has cared for the vine, maintaining its elaborate greenhouse, keeping the pests off, ensuring its propagation, in a way becoming intertwined with it.  The other town-dwellers at first resented this unnaturally demanding growth, but in time, it became a tourist attraction.  Soon, the entire economy was based around the now-sprawling vegetable.

However, the vine hungers, and one family can no longer sate it…

Kit Reed has always delivered a large dose of atmosphere with her writing.  This one stays with you.

Four stars.

Nothing Much to Relate, Josephine Saxton

I think this is Saxton's second story; she first appeared in Science Fantasy, so I assume she is from Britain.  It's a cute tale involving a new mother with a talent for automatic writing, and a would-be-yogi who bites off more than he can chew.

It's a rather frivolous piece, but fun all the same.  Three stars.

When the Birds Die, Eduardo Goligorsky (translated by Vernor Vinge)

Here's a rather straightforward and simple after-the-bomb piece about a hobo who, for a little while, lives like a king thanks to his stockpile of vital supplies.  This one's all in the telling, which is particularly remarkable given that it's a story in translation (so, good job Vernor).

Three stars.

The Little Victims, Hilary Bailey

Bailey is another import from the UK, known for her many appearances in New Worlds.  This novella is easily the highlight of the issue.  Rose Dalby is a pregnant young woman who flees a drug den only to be swept into and confined in some sort of weird maternity hospital.  Each of the many mothers gives birth to some kind of monster, either idiotic or preternaturally advanced.  Something sinister is afoot, and Rose is determined to be no part of it.  Fortunately, the world is not entirely composed of evil men.

Not only is the story quite excellent, but the format is rather novel, told as multiple transcripts in an official inquiry document.  The only failing is the rather talky ending.  Still, good stuff, and more please.

Four stars.

Knock Plastic!, Isaac Asimov

Doc A seemed to have fallen into a rut recently.  His articles were either about the most inconsequential and trivial of things ("What latitude can the cities of St. John and Paris be found at?") or, worse, long lists that one could find in the back of any good atlas.

This month, he breaks the mold, detailing the six primary superstitious fallacies.  I enjoyed this piece enough to read it aloud to the Young Traveler.

Five stars.

A Message from Charity, William M. Lee

Finally, the story of a long communication across the centuries.  The telepathic penpals: young Charity Paynes of 18th Century Annes Town, and slightly less young Peter Wood of a 20th Century suburb occupying the same space.  Brought upon by a bout of summer typhoid (in both eras), the two slowly form a bond that goes beyond the sending of messages, including even the exchange of sensations.

Of course, a girl who speaks to unseen things in 1700 New England tends to arouse suspicion.

I first expected this story to be routine (even cliché); then I feared it might become unpleasantly dark.  Lee adroitly manages both outcomes.  I'm not sure if I would give it a fourth star, but it certainly lands in the high threes.

By Virtue of the Authority

Excluding the first two stories, one has a cracking good read for four bits.  Even including them, the November 1967 issue of F&SF clocks in at 3.25 stars.  Given that even Analog is getting into the equal opportunity act, I think we may be headed for a new golden era of science fiction.

Or should that be "Rose Golden"?

Speaking of which, I think you'll very much enjoy Journey Press' newest release:

You've probably heard of Marie Vibbert, one of the biggest names in SFF magazines in the far off 21st Century.  Her book, The Gods Awoke, is what I've been calling "a new New Wave masterpiece".

Do check it out.  You'll not only be getting a great book, but you'll be supporting the Journey!




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[October 2, 1967] Switching Sides (November 1967 IF)

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by David Levinson

Crossing the road

You probably know that, while much of the world drives on the right-hand side of the road with steering wheels on the left side of the vehicle, Great Britain and most of her former colonies do things the other way around, steering wheel on the right and driving on the left. A few other countries follow the British example, such as Japan, Indonesia, and Thailand. Up until a month ago, Sweden was among them.

A switch has been considered for a while and, although Swedes voted overwhelmingly against the change in 1955, it has now gone through. All of Sweden’s neighbors drive on the right, with something like 5 million vehicles crossing the borders with Norway and Finland (not to mention Danish and German tourists arriving with their cars by ferry). On top of that, roughly 90 percent of the cars in Sweden have their steering wheel on the left, which means that Swedish automakers have been building their cars that way for a long time.

The logo for the traffic changeover.

After four years of preparation and education, H-day (Dagen H for Högertrafik, which means right-hand traffic) came in the wee hours of Sunday, September 3rd. Road signs had to be moved or remade, new lines had to be painted on the roads, intersections had to be reshaped. Just as much effort went into educating the public. The logo was plastered on everything from milk cartons to underwear. There was even a catchy tune written for the event, “Håll dig till höger, Svensson” (Keep to the Right, Svensson). Everything seems to have gone off without a hitch, and traffic accidents have been down, probably because everyone is being extra careful. Iceland is planning on following suit next year.

This photo was staged several months ago as part of the education campaign. The real thing was much less chaotic.

Turncoats and breakthroughs

This month’s IF begins and ends with characters changing sides (or appearing to) while elsewhere the crew of a spaceship breaks on through to the other side.

A newcomer gets the cover. Does he deserve it? Art by Vaughn Bodé

Continue reading [October 2, 1967] Switching Sides (November 1967 IF) →

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[September 30, 1967] Ain't that good news! (October 1967 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

End of Summer

The long, hot summer is over, and with it a general cooling across the country, both in temperature and in tension.  While San Francisco enjoyed a summer of love, with folks as disparate as Eric Burdom and Scott McKenzie coming to just be-in, the rest of the nation was rocked by civil strife, strikes, and protest.


Ashes in Cambridge, MD


Teachers on strike

And why not?  The cities have been bubbling kettles for a long time, and too many mayors and councilmen are ignoring the problem.  Too many workers have been stiffed and neglected.  Too many young men, too young even to vote, have lost their lives in Vietnam.

Now, the strikes are largely settled in the workers' favor.  The racial problems, well they're still there, but harder to ignore, and with the departure of sultry weather, tempers are a little less frayed.  Vietnam…well, they had a free election didn't they?  Surely things must be getting a little better.

Surely.

In any event, enjoy the respite.  We're going to need our strength.

So goes the nation…

The nation of science fiction, that is.  SF had a rocky summer, with a slew of lackluster magazines, inconsistent books, and of course, endless reruns on TV.  I'm happy to report that the dog days are over, at least for now: not only has it been a good month for SF mags in general, but the latest issue of Analog is the best in more than a year and a half.


by John Schoenherr

Weyr Search, by Anne McCaffrey


by John Schoenherr

Jack Vance and Frank Herbert have made sweeping, quasi-fantastic tableaus the in thing.  Universes that feel thousands of years old, with venerable, somewhat tattered institutions vying for power in a decadent setting.  Now Ann McCaffrey, best known for her The Ship Who series, has tossed her hat in the ring.

Pern is a planet somewhere in the galaxy, once settled by Earth, but long since forgotten.  It is a verdant, pleasant world save for one feature.  Every few hundred years, a rogue planet comes close enough in its eccentric orbit to launch deadly spores of "thread".  These burrow into Pern's soil, destroying native life, scourging farms and people.

To combat them, humans formed a sort of treaty with the native intelligent life: sapient dragons, with whom their riders bond telepathically.  These dragons not only breathe fire, but they can teleport.  This makes them formidable defenders, indeed!  Clearly, they once dominated Pernian politics.  Long ago, there were six "Weyrs"–barren fortresses wherein lived the dragons and their human brethren.  From these strongholds, Pern was kept safe from the baleful "red star".

But humans have short memories, and when Weyr Search begins, it has been several centuries since the last orbital conjunction.  Human politics have supplanted other concerns, and the "Holds", fortresses against human incursion, reign supreme.  Only one Weyr, called Benden, remains in operation–a shabby shadow of itself.

Nevertheless, with the rogue planet approaching, and the queen of dragons recently dead, it is imperative that the Benden riders find a new rider for the next queen, one who has the requisite psychic talents and the necessary strength of character.  Can any such person exist in these fallen times, when even proud Ruatha hold, whose royal family's blood once ran with a strong vein of dragon talent, has become a wreck under the cruel ministrations of Lord Fax of the High Reaches?

Well, of course the answer is yes.  It's obvious from the first page, told from the point of view of Lessa, Ruathan scullery girl, who is secretly scion of the dead lineage.  Weyr Search is not a story to surprise, a tale of twists and turns.  It is not even really a complete story; it is clear there will be sequels.  What it is, however, is an intriguing setup for a story.

As such, it really succeeds or fails on its writing.  McCaffrey is better at her job than Herbert, whose reach regularly exceeds his grasp.  She is less talented than Vance (who wrote a somewhat reminiscent tale several years ago called The Dragon Masters).  The first portion of the story is a bit stiltedly told, and Lessa comes across as something of a caricature, a wish-fullfilment vehicle akin to Cinderella ("I may seem a nothing, but I'm really a secret princess-queen!") Not that this kind of character can't work–after all, look at Roan in Earthblood, but Laumer and Brown did a better job with it.  And, of course, there are the tics that sold the work to Campbell: psionics and the idea of people being genetically special.

Nevertheless, the writing gets better as it goes along, and the concepts are interesting.  I've read some great stuff by McCaffrey, and I've read some tepid stuff by McCaffrey.  This installment gets four stars.  We'll see how the serial (in all but name) does as a whole when its done.

(Note: There's a bit in the prologue where Pern's "Yankee" colonists are mentioned.  I'll bet my bottom dollar this was a Campbell edit, as nowhere in the rest of the story is the race of the colonists suggested.  Heaven forbid anyone but WASPs settle the galaxy…)

Toys, by Tom Purdom


by Leo Summers

I'm always happy to see a piece from my good friend, Tom.  This one involves a cop duo (male and female) taking on a gang of pre-teenage kids, who have taken their families hostage using a host of homegrown weapons: genetically engineered apes and tigers, chemistry-set psychedelic drugs, erector-set shock guns.  The work of the police is complicated by their standing directive to minimize casualties.

A little insight from the author:

I have a lot of thoughts on Toys. I gave a talk on it at a Philadelphia Science Fiction Society meeting this month.

Basically, it's built around three ideas.

The first came from a John Campbell editorial I read around 1950 or 51.  What are you going to do, Campbell asked, when an angry teenager can blow up a city merely by twisting a pair of wires in a certain way?  It's a thought experiment that gets at the heart of some of the issues raised by technology.  I reduced the problem to a world where children have access to all kinds of potentially lethal technologies.

The second big idea is economic growth.  I got interested in that years before, and it figures in many of my stories. The standard of living in the industrialized nation has been doubling two or three times per century since about 1700.  The children in my story are lower middle class or might even be considered poor, but they have access to things like home genetic kits.  They are poor in land, however, living in a five story house on a narrow plot.  And lots of other kids have a lot more.

The third element is a Utopian police force.  In a world with so much potential for violence, you need a first class police force and a society willing to pay for highly trained, well educated cops.  Edelman [the viewpoint character] understands that he is supposed to resolve this situation without harming the kids.  He takes bigger risks than he has to because he is responsible for the kids' welfare.

Thus, both utopian and anti-utopian predictions.  Purdom excels at these concepts, painting a future world with realistic touches.  For instance, complete equality of the sexes (exemplified by the cop partners), and one of the few stories that takes monetary inflation into account ($50,000 a year is a poor salary; $200,000 is pretty good.)

Where Tom always has trouble is combat scenes.  It's no coincidence that his best works, like I Want the Stars and Courting Time, focus on people rather than fighting.

Toys is essentially a non-stop fight sequence.  Thus, three stars.

Political Science—Chinese Style, by Research Group of the Theory of Elementary Particles, Peking

Editor Campbell offers up the preamble to a Chinese paper on subatomic particles, the realm of the "quark".  The actual paper is not included; instead, we get many pages of explanation as to the philosophy that let to the composer's discoveries–all guided by the pure thought of their leader Mao Tse Tung.

It's pretty obvious that such folderol is necessary to get anything published in China.  I'm sure the Nazi and Stalinist publishers had to do the same.  What's special about this paper is that the science is reportedly "first-class".  Which makes me sad that the whole paper wasn't included.  Subatomic physics is fascinating stuff.

Anyway, it's short and interesting for what it is.  And given the quality of fiction in this mag, I didn't miss the (hit and miss) science column too much.

Three stars.

The Judas Bug, by Caroll C. MacApp


by Kelly Freas

C.C. MacApp, using his first name rather than an initial for some reason, offers up this tale of a colony in peril.  Two settlers of a new planet have been found dead in the field, their faces, throats and hands gnawed away.  The fauna of the planet just don't seem harmful enough to be the culprit; Mechanic James Gruder worries that a human conspiracy is involved.

This is a perfectly competent story, although I found the resolution a little rushed.  Three stars.

Free Vacation, by W. Macfarlane


by Leo Summers

I really liked the concept behind this story: Terran convicts are offered a choice–imprisonment, or teleportation to a roughhewn world as conscripted explorers.  Day Layard, a brand new draftee, is paired with an old hand, who proves invaluable in keeping him alive.  It turns out Layard's partner is particularly happy with his lot in life; it gives him the opportunity to seek out signs of the "Prodromals", the race of beings that preceded humanity in the galaxy.

This is another tale that runs along just fine until the somewhat rushed ending.  An extra page or two would have perhaps garnered a fourth star.  As is, a pleasant three.

Pontius Pirates, by J. T. McIntosh


by Leo Summers

The planet of Molle is a rich, advanced world, with nothing to hide.  So why is it the moment Jack Sheridan makes planetfall from Earth, he is under 24 hour surveillance?  Nothing formal, mind you–just subject to the attentions of four jovial fellows eager to get him drunk, and a pretty young girl employed to spend the night with him…or at least tell him she did when he wakes up with no memory of what went on the previous day.

Could it be that Molle is actually the home base for the piratical Buccaneers, and the surveillance is to make sure no one gets too close to the secret? That's certainly why Sheridan, actually an Interstellar Patrolman, was dispatched to the planet.

On the surface, this is just a secret agent thriller.  The plot is interesting, but nothing noteworthy.  The average reader will probably enjoy it and move on.

As a writer, I found much to admire.  The thing is, Jack Sheridan is never wrong.  He has his working theories, he tests them, and they always turn out to be more or less as expected.  There are plenty of stories with characters like these, from Retief to James Bond, and they quickly run into one or both of two issues:

1) When you know the hero is always right, where's the tension?

2) When the hero knows he's always right, he tends to become insufferable.

McIntosh, who has been writing for two decades now, neatly avoids both pratfalls.  The mystery is unfolded piece by piece, and at each juncture, Sheridan is plagued with doubt.  He doesn't know if he's right, he lists all the reasons he could be wrong, and he explains what he'll do in that event.  The thing is, he isn't some schnook like Bond who stumbles upon the truth.  He lands on Molle with enough information to be pretty sure it's the Buccaneer base.  After that, it's logical and plausible deduction.

We also learn a lot about Sheridan, his character and his values, without ever explicitly being told about them.  It's a lovely piece of oblique writing, all showing and no telling.

So, well done, Mr. McIntosh.  Perhaps others in Campbell's stable can learn from your example (*ahem* Chris Anvil).  Four stars.

Doing the math

With a star-o-meter rating of 3.4 stars, Analog tops its competition.  But competition it did have!  New Worlds and Fantasy and Science Fiction both scored 3.3, and even Amazing got 3.0.  Only IF and
Galaxy lagged, with 2.8 and 2.7, respectively.

If you took all the four and five star stories, you could fill two slim digests.  The only really sad statistic is that, out of 33 new pieces of fiction, just one was written by a woman.  Looks like women have struck out for books and screenplays, where the money's better.  A smart move, but not a happy sign for magazines in general.

Nevertheless, let's dwell on the positive.  Good job, Analog, and thanks for a happy punctuation to the month of September!

Speaking of books by women…

You've probably heard of Marie Vibbert, one of the biggest names in SFF magazines (of the far-future year 2022).  Her book, The Gods Awoke, is what I've been calling "a new New Wave masterpiece":

Do check it out.  You'll not only be getting a great book, but you'll be supporting the Journey!




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Magazine/Anthology, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[September 26, 1967] Anniversary? Really? New Worlds, October 1967

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by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

The changes with New Worlds in the last few months have been so much that they’ve rather left me guessing what the next issue will be like. Will it be sexually adult, like last month’s issue? Will it introduce me to art and artists I’ve never heard of before? Or will it try to flummox me with philosophy, religion and science?

Who knows? Each issue has been one of surprise and bewilderment, with, as I suggested last month, less emphasis on the science fiction and more on those other elements. It certainly keeps me guessing!

And it is an anniversary issue, too! If you’ve been following what’s been going on here in the last year or so, many of us didn’t think we’d get to celebrating 21 years of New Worlds, but here we are – even if its publishing schedule has been a little erratic, admittedly. I am hoping that there is plenty to celebrate here.


Cover by Richard Hamilton

And with that in mind, let’s go to the issue!

Article: The Languages of Science by Dr. David Harvey

We seem to have given up any pretence of an Editorial now. We’re straight into a Science article, which discusses the importance of language in science, as “a theory … is a language for discussing the facts the theory is said to explain.”


Art from the article: Geometry is important!

It’s interesting in that science is usually considered (at least by me) as being unemotional yet here there’s an argument for the point that it is all down to how we use the language that is important. It also examines the question of whether the language of science is fit for purpose. Not a light read, but another one that makes you think. 3 out of 5.


More art that seems unrelated to the story it is in!

An Age (Part 1 of 3) by Brian W. Aldiss

Another month, another Aldiss – although this is the first part of a new serial. Here time travellers from 2090 spend time in the Cryptozoic. The past has become a destination for a myriad of unusual characters.

Artist Edward Bush describes what the place is like before the story brings in Ann, the girlfriend of motorbike gang leader Lenny. Bush has an affair with Ann and they decide to hop off to the Jurassic together. Before they leave, Edward finds himself being watched by a mysterious woman in black, about whom I suspect we will discover more in the next part.

This is different to the recent Aldiss stories published, although like many of his stories deliberately socially conscious. Also self-conscious. It feels rather like how a British writer believes they should write about a counterculture, with its casual sexual relationships and talk of drugs and mind-travel, but I must admit that I prefer this story to that of the recent Charteris series – at least so far. 4 out of 5.


An advert for the novelisation of this serial from this issue. However, be warned – there might be some future plot details here!

Article: A Fine Pop-Art Continuum by Christopher Finch


Art by Richard Hamilton

This month’s ‘artycle’, (I’ll keep saying it because I like it) examines the work of Richard Hamilton, an artist able to “distil from the idioms of the present a possible language for the future”. I was impressed by the range of work, from paintings to photography to models and even buildings, although much of this is prose trying to describe a medium that seems primarily visual. 3 out of 5.

Solipsist by Bob Parkinson

A quick check – for those who didn’t know, a solipsist is “a very self-centred or selfish” person (as it says in my English Dictionary.) I don’t know about you, but that immediately makes me think that this story is going to be one that spends its time gazing introvertly at itself. And guess what? It does. Lots of empty phrases and Words! With Exclamation Marks! that ape Alfred Bester’s novels from a decade ago. So, to paraphrase: Run! Go now! Avoid! 2 out of 5.

The Men Are Coming Back! by Barry Cole

And in the same manner, approach with caution. The magazine is still trying to bring poetry to the readership, which for me is a bit of a lost cause, frankly – though I hope that one day there will be something I like! At least this one is understandable, if enigmatic. It tells of what happens to a village of women on seeing their men return from somewhere. It casts mockery upon sexual stereotypes, I guess. 3 out of 5.


Illustration by Zoline

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

In this fourth and final part we see the culmination of Louis Sacchetti’s exposure to the Pallidine bug, and as expected it is not pretty. Sacchetti is now the last remaining prisoner of the inmates there in Camp Archimedes when he arrived, although there are new recruits brought in by Skilliman.

Haast, the prison director, is concerned by Louis’s realisation that Dr. Aimee Busk’s disappearance means that she is spreading the disease to the general public, and therefore within months 30-50% of the American public will be geniuses. The consequences of this is that all of those needed to stabilise society will die and society will collapse, something which Skilliman and his fellow recruits seem to be engineering. Louis’s attempts to make Haast see what is happening initially appear to be unheeded, and there are no signs in the news that changes are happening.

As a consequence of the infection, Louis eventually goes blind but is still able to type. Skilliman continues to taunt Louis. He maintains his friendship with Schipansky and Fredgren, two of Skilliman’s recruits, who despite Skilliman’s attempts to isolate Louis, manage to bring in more visitors. Louis also hallucinates discussions with people as well, such as Thomas Nashe.

At the end, things are resolved. Louis has a stroke, which paralyses him. One of Sacchetti’s visitors, Watson, leads a protest against Skilliman, which Louis is accused of instigating by Skilliman. When Skilliman tries to get Haast to shoot Louis ‘escaping’, he is shot by Haast. Haast then tells Louis that he is Mordecai Washington, who we thought died two parts ago.

It seems that Haast and Mordecai swapped bodies through secret equipment developed by the venereally-infected geniuses during their production of Faust. Louis is then transferred to the body of a guard he has continually referred to as Assiduous. They continue to search for a vaccine.

Frankly, this final part seemed to make more sense than the last, as it draws the story to an end. The last part was confusing – understandably so, admittedly – for its disjointed ruminations on disconnected issues, whereas this time around, Louis’s demise seems to create a more intensely focussed perspective. Although it was flagged up in part 2 of the serial, the ending seems a little bit of a cop-out, though, lacking conviction.

Nevertheless, on balance this is one of the most memorable stories I’ve seen in recent years, and certainly in New Worlds. It is a startling piece of work, although the impact of this has worn off a little since that initial first part. 4 out of 5.


Terrific artwork to illustrate the article on the brain.

Article: The Inconsistent Alpha by Dr. Christopher Evans

This month – and rather appropriate, given what has just happened in Disch’s serial – in his series of articles about the human body, Dr. Evans looks at the brain and brain waves, the alpha wave in particular. 4 out of 5.

The City Dwellers by Charles Platt

Do you remember Charles Platt’s story, Lone Zone which I reviewed back in the July 1965 issue of New Worlds? This one treads similar ground as it is set in a dilapidated city of the future. It’s the story of Manning and a group of fellow emotionless and exhausted characters who try to maintain their difficult existence. There’s fighting between gangs, military weapons on the streets and buildings set light to, as if life in the city wasn’t depressing enough. It’s fine, but nothing special. This one feels like a leftover, filling up a space without any importance. 3 out of 5.

Yes: people are willing to go to war over Baked Beans!

The Baked Bean Factory by Michael Butterworth

I have in the past felt pretty disappointed by Michael’s stories. So I am pleased that this is one I actually liked. It is basically a future-war story, where the combatants are all based on big corporate industries. So we have a Baked Beans company fighting rival corporations referred to as “The Enemy” in Image Warfare, all for the sake of dominance and greater profit. I was amused by this extreme extrapolation of corporate influence, even with its sudden and disappointing ending, but it makes a chilling prediction – could we see a future where big business runs everything? 3 out of 5.

Article: Reverie of Bone by Langdon Jones

A page showing some of Peake's imaginative artwork.

The Assistant Editor reviews the work of artist and writer Mervyn Peake, who you may know for his work Gormenghast. It shows an eclectic body of work, from art to poetry and prose, and hopefully will draw reader’s attention to his work. Peake may be a real version of Louis Sacchetti, a multi-talented genius. 4 out of 5.

This illustration seems to sum up this odd story.

The Last Inn on the Road by Danny Plachta and Roger Zelazny

For me these days, just the appearance of the name ‘Roger Zelazny’ in a magazine is a pleasing one. His work generally shows a range, intelligence and depth that few reach, and I see him as at the vanguard of the American interpretation of the New Wave writers.

With that in mind, then, I think that this is the first collaboration of his I have read. I must admit that I found it a bit disappointing. There’s a satirical tone that seems to echo the mannerisms of Brian Aldiss, but overall this story about Hells Angel-type motor bikers who stop in a garage, murder a priest and a nun and then drive off seems pointless. The involvement of a dog and some celestial aliens are there too, for an unknown reason. Perhaps its meaning is just beyond me. A surprisingly low 3 out of 5.

Book Reviews

Thomas Disch this month expounds a lengthy article on the idea of Metropolises in culture and society, which is mainly focused on Oswald Spengler’s ideas in his book The Decline of the West and allows Disch to explain more about Faust, which partly helped me understand his relevance in Camp Concentration. Disch then goes on to review D. F. Jones’s novel Implosion as a story of a future Britain suffering from population decline, and a “moderately entertaining” collection edited by Douglas Hill named The Devil His Due.

The other reviews this month by James Cawthorn are for the “indescribable” The Ganymede Takeover by Philip K. Dick and Ray Nelson, Edmond Hamilton’s "colourful"  Starwolf and Poul Anderson’s The Trouble Twisters, which manages “a smooth blend of science and adventure that few other authors can achieve with such consistency.”


Read some of the biographical details carefully. A poetry magazine entitled "Ronald Reagan", after that film star? Really?

Summing up New Worlds

I’m pleased to read much more fiction this month, and it is of a greater variety. The Disch ends on a bit of a deux ex machina, but is still good, Aldiss continues to produce well written work, and I liked the Peake article. I was pleasingly impressed by the Butterworth story, up to the unimpressive end. The Platt story was OK, but the Zelazny was a disappointment and felt like a minor work, even if competently written.

All in all, not a bad issue, unless you wanted to argue about the imbalance in the new New Worlds between art, articles and fiction.
But, in short, it feels like a stronger issue than the last, and worth me giving my money to. Not quite as much to celebrate as I had hoped for,  but c'est la vie.


And speaking of celebrating anniversaries, I was surprised at how little the magazine’s 21st anniversary was mentioned, other than on the front cover and a tiny box in the Wanted columns.

Although the magazine claims that it is more about looking to the future rather than the past, to me it feels a little like the opposite – almost like the magazine is ashamed of its heritage.

I’m sure that it’s not – and I am pleased that they’ve not seen the occasion as a time to fill the magazine with reprints – but I would have liked a little more reference, I think. After all, 21 years of publication, even if they have been a little "stop-and-start", is quite an achievement for a British science fiction magazine.


No advert for next month's issue, worryingly. Instead, some books to look forward to.

Until the next!



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