Journey to the Far Side of the Sun, also known as Doppelgänger in England, is a British science fiction film directed by Robert Parrish and produced by marionette/miniature wizards Gerry and Sylvia Anderson (Stingray, Thunderbirds, Fireball XL5, Supercar, etc.).
As a movie, it is both visually appealing and tonally complex, with layered characterizations from its cast. The film gets off to a decent start, featuring beautifully realized sets and model effects, as well as intriguing characters with backstories I wanted to know more about. It sets up an epic quest that seems exciting and full of potential. Sadly, by the end of the film, everything (and I do mean everything) falls apart, leaving me feeling cheated.
The Beginning: A Futuristic Start
The movie opens quietly at Eurosec headquarters (the European Space Exploration Council). Two men enter a guarded, futuristic, secure complex to review some documents. To access the document room, an X-ray scan is performed, displaying the men’s bones in motion and detecting a metal pen that triggers an alarm. From the start, the film showcases its advanced technology.
The Exciting Mission
The discovery of the century is at hand: scientists have determined that on the far side of the Sun lies another planet, identical in size to Earth (stop me if you've heard this one before.) Jason Webb, the Eurosec director (played by Patrick Wymark), collaborates with other nations to finance a manned mission to this planet. American astronaut Colonel Glenn Ross (Roy Thinnes—"David Vincent" from The Invaders) is selected for the mission, accompanied by astrophysicist Dr. John Kane (Ian Hendry).
The Beautiful People
Ross arrives at Eurosec with his beautiful but emotionally detached wife, Sharon (played by Lynn Loring). It quickly becomes evident that Glenn and Sharon’s marriage is in serious trouble, and they are barely holding it together as a couple. The other prominent female character, Lisa Hartmann (Loni von Friedl), is a strikingly beautiful woman whose role in the plot is never clearly defined, making her presence feel more ornamental than essential to the story.
The Creative Technology
As the mission preparation begins, the audience is treated to exquisitely designed rocket ships and futuristic sets. Even the cars and homes the characters live in reflect a near-future aesthetic. This is where the movie truly excels—transporting viewers from the mundane to a world of speculative technology. While the spaceships are clearly models, the craftsmanship is exceptional, maintaining credulity far better than the poorly constructed props often seen in other films of our era. Like some of the films from the Orient, for example.
The Tragic and Confusing Journey
The journey to the new planet is uneventful, filled with slow, ponderous shots of the spacecraft moving through space. Soon, Ross and Kane arrive at their destination and face the critical decision: should they land on the planet? Ross determines that the Earth-like planet has a breathable atmosphere and abundant plant life but sees no signs of intelligent inhabitants. They choose to land. Detaching their landing module from their main ship, they then end up crash landing on the new planet. As they complete their fiery collision with the new world, Ross is thrown clear of the ship. Despite his injuries, he manages to pull Kane, who is gravely wounded, from the burning ship before it explodes.
It is nighttime where they impact, and a strange light appears in the sky, scanning the crash site. A humanoid figure descends from an aircraft and Ross, terrified, attempts to fight it. To his shock, the figure turns out to be human, and subdues Ross.
The Ridiculous Truth
The next scene reveals Ross and Kane in Eurosec’s infirmary, under the watchful eye of a furious Jason Webb. As Ross recovers, he is interrogated by Webb and other Eurosec staff, including Lisa Hartmann, as they demand to know why he turned around and returned to Earth. Ross adamantly insists that they had not turned back and instead had landed on the new planet.
Alone due to Kane’s critical condition, Ross becomes increasingly frustrated. Upon returning home, he argues with Sharon, accusing her of reversing the layout of their furniture and even noticing that labels on her perfume bottles are printed backward. This fight leads to the collapse of their marriage but provideds Ross with a startling revelation: he is not on Earth but on the other planet, a mirror version of his world.
The Overblown Ending
Ross and the Eurosec team realize the truth: he is trapped on a doppelgänger Earth, where everything is reversed. Plans are made to send Ross back to his own Earth. He boards the alien lander (the Doppelgänger) and docks with the main spacecraft still in orbit. However, due to the mirrored nature of the ship, a systems failure occurs, causing the craft to lose power. Unable to escape, the ship and lander plummet to the surface, crash-landing directly on Eurosec and destroying the entire base in a massive explosion.
The film ends with a haunting scene: an elderly Jason Webb, crippled and defeated, reflecting on the catastrophic loss. Alone in a wheelchair, he gazes at his reflection in a mirrored window before tragically crashing through it, marking his demise.
Final Thoughts
This movie started so well, only to end so poorly. It had so much going for it: great looking sets and technology, attractive people (albeit lacking any compelling backstory), and an interesting adventure for them to embark on. For the counter-Earth to turn out to be a mirror copy just felt lazy. So many simple things had to be ignored for the story to go as long as it did. The astronauts not finding any life from orbit was the dumbest thing of all…until that was followed up by the two explosive crashes by a trained astronaut. The fact that everyone died made the story a waste of time and a missed opportunity. A real shame. I give this Doppelänger two of five stars.
[New to the Journey? Read this for a brief introduction!]
When you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out
250,000 miles from Earth, the astronauts of Apollo 12 are circling the Moon, photographing Earth's neighbor for future landing sites before coming home. And in the nation's capital, the city is still reeling from the footsteps of 250,000 protesters who marched on Washington in the largest anti-war event in American history.
This second "Vietnam Moratorium Day" followed on the heels of last month's nationwide protests, to which President Nixon responded with apathy and his November 4th speech, in which he touted his secret timetable for "Vietnamesation"—the turning over of defense of South Vietnam to President Thieu's government, and also played up his support from "The Silent Majority" of Americans.
The protest movements have still fallen short of the planned nationwide strike, and this latest one has been eclipsed by the Moon landings. Nevertheless, they are making waves. In addition to the quarter million in Washington D.C., 100,000 marched in San Francisco in the West Coast's largest peace demonstration in history.
That demonstration was, in fact, peaceful. Not so the march on Washington, where extremists, protesting the trial of Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, and six "Yippies" for allegedly inspiring the Chicago Democratic Convention riots last year, clashed with police and were driven back by tear gas.
There is no word, as yet, if there will be a third Moratorium march in time for the Holidays, but one can probably expect more such outbursts from the Unsilent Minority so long as there is no end in sight to the Vietnam War, which has claimed the lives of more than 40,000 Americans so far.
The say that it's the institution
Last year, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fictionwon the Hugo for Best Science Fiction Magazine. It was a bit of a surprise since 1968 was hardly one of the magazine's best years—but then, 1968 wasn't a consistently great year for any magazine. However, if one were to judge F&SF's 1969 output solely on the basis of this month's issue, one's estimation of the magazine would, indeed, be justifiably high! Read on with pleasure:
Two new science fiction novels that fell into my hands are similar in many ways. Both are by British writers and might be classified as action-packed adventure yarns. Each features a rather ordinary hero who gets involved in a secret scientific project of epic proportions. Both protagonists fall in love along the way. Each has a touch of satire and a cynical attitude about politics.
The main difference is that one takes place in the present and the other is set some centuries from now. Let's take a look at the first one.
Our hero has just lost his job and his live-in girlfriend. He worked as a security expert at a research facility, but certain parts of it were off limits to him. A fellow claiming to work for the United Nations hires him to do some unofficial investigating of the place.
I should mention at this point that everybody the protagonist meets refuses to tell him everything that's going on. I suspect this is a way for the author to keep the reader in suspense. It's also worthy of note that the hero, who is also the narrator, casts a jaundiced eye on the world around him.
Meanwhile, the Soviet Union and members of the Warsaw Pact send troops into Czechoslovakia to suppress the liberal reforms known as the Prague Spring. This part of the novel is torn straight from the headlines.
As the Cold War heats up, things get complicated. There's an accident at the facility that causes two ambulances to rush away from the place, although there's apparently only one victim. The hero runs into a mysterious woman who knows more about the situation than she lets on (like a lot of characters in the novel.) She's also suffering from some kind of disease she won't discuss. As you'd expect, love blooms.
Add in a gigantic hidden complex of underground tunnels and automated submarines. The big secret behind everything involves Mad Science at its maddest. The protagonist and a few allies battle to stop World War Three from breaking out, and we'll finally learn what the numerical title means. (I suppose it's also an allusion to George Orwell's famous novel 1984, but that's not all.)
Not the most plausible plot in the world. You have to accept the fact that there could be a secret project extending over many miles without anybody finding out about it. If you can suspend your disbelief, it's a very readable page-turner.
Let's jump forward hundreds of years. People are rigidly assigned to different levels of society, with their jobs chosen for them. They can't even marry until the powers that be allow them to do so. There are some folks living in the wilderness outside this system. If the previous novel tipped its hat to 1984, this one owes something to Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.
Our hero works for what seems to be the planet's only news agency. His job is only vaguely described, but it seems to be some kind of editing or proofreading position.
The daughter of the boss fancies herself one of those Spunky Girl Reporters from old black-and-white movies. (That's my interpretation, not the author's.) Somehow she came across a reference to something called (you guessed it) the Weisman Experiment. This happened a few decades ago, and the government has repressed all knowledge of it.
The boss tells the protagonist to help his daughter investigate the mysterious experiment. As soon as they set out, somebody tries to kill them. Whenever they track down one of the few surviving people who remember the Weisman Experiment, that person is murdered.
The hero and the daughter (who will, of course, eventually fall in love) are separated by the powers that be before they get too far. The protagonist goes through some brainwashing to straighten him out, but it doesn't quite work.
The rest of the novel takes us to North Africa, where the hero acquires an ally. (This character is a bit embarrassing, as she speaks in an accent and ends almost all her statements with I theenk.) Next we go to an underwater facility, where he's reunited with the daughter. Eventually, we wind up at the estate of an incredibly wealthy fellow, where we finally find out what the heck the Weisman Experiment was all about.
Like the other novel, this is a fast-moving tale with something to say about the way society is set up. Worth reading once.
Three stars.
by Brian Collins
We have two short novels from very different authors, one being a promising young writer and the other one of the more reliable workhorses in the field. Neither novel is all that good, but at the very least I needed something less demanding after I had recently covered Macroscope.
Vinge has written only one or maybe two short stories a year so far, but all of them have been interesting, if not necessarily good. Grimm’s World, his debut novel, is itself an expansion of the novella “Grimm’s Story,” which appeared in Orbit 4 last year. The novel is split into two parts, with the first being “Grimm’s Story,” which as far as I can tell Vinge did not change significantly. If I was just reviewing the first part, I would say it’s fairly good, certainly in keeping with Vinge’s other short fiction. High three to a low four stars.
Unfortunately it doesn’t stop there.
The short of it is that Svir Hedrigs is an astronomy student who gets roped into a scheme by the notorious Tatja Grimm and her crew, those who make the speculative fiction (although here it’s called “contrivance fiction”) magazine Fantasie, a publication that is so old (centuries old, in fact) that its oldest issues seem to have been lost to time, if not for maybe a handful of collectors. The world is Tu, a distant planet that, like Jack Vance’s Big Planet, is vast and yet poor in metals. (Indeed this reads to a conspicuous degree like a Vance pastiche, albeit without Vance’s sardonic humor, and thus it’s not as entertaining.) Something to think about is that characters in an SF story are pretty much never aware that they’re inside a work of SF, and indeed SF as a school of fiction is rarely mentioned, much like how characters in a horror story are often blissfully unaware (for the moment) that they’re birds in a blood-red cage. Yet in Grimm’s World, what we call speculative fiction these days is held as the highest form of literature. It’s a curious case of characters in SF basically realizing that their world itself is SFnal, and therefore the possibilities are near-endless.
Of course the scheme to rescue a complete collection of Fantasie turns out to be a ruse, with Grimm usurping the tyrannical ruler of the single big land mass on this planet, on the falsehood that she is descended from the former monarchy. It’s at this point that the first part ends, and there’s a rather gaping hole in continuity between parts, the result feeling more like two related novellas than a single work. The second part is considerably weaker. What began as a nice planetary adventure turns into something more military-focused, as the people of Tu are terrorized by a race of humanoid aliens, whom Grimm may or may not be in cahoots with. Said aliens take sort of a hands-off approach with the Tu people, provided that their technology doesn’t become too advanced (a high-powered telescope, “the High Eye,” becomes increasingly an object of fascination as the novel progresses), and also that the Tu people reproduce at a rate to the aliens’ liking. What the aliens intend to do with the human surplus is absurd and raises some questions which Vinge never answers. There’s also a love triangle (or perhaps a love square) that I found totally unconvincing, if only because Svir seems to get a hard-on for whatever woman is within his field of vision.
I liked the first part but found the second part a bit of a slog.
Anderson’s writing is comfortable and comforting: rarely surprising, but often (not always) a mild stimulant that can help one during trying times. Just when I think everything might be going to shit, there’s a new Poul Anderson novel—possibly even two of them. The Rebel Worlds is short enough that it could’ve easily made up one half of an Ace Double, except this is from Signet. A few years ago we got Ensign Flandry, which saw the early days in the career of Dominic Flandry, clearly one of Anderson’s favorite recurring characters (although he’s not one of mine). The Rebel Worlds takes place not too long after Ensign Flandry, with Flandry now Lieutenant Commander and with more responsibilities, but still very much the playboy.
Hugh McCormac, a respected admiral of the Empire, is imprisoned, only to break out and go rogue, taking those loyal to him along for the ride. The prison breakout blossoms into a full-on rebellion across multiple worlds, which is a rather big problem for the Empire. Flandry, despite knowing that the Empire is on the brink of collapse and that “the Long Night” will begin soon enough, stays aligned with those in power—perhaps a sentiment Anderson himself shares, given he supports the war effort in Vietnam despite said war effort turning more sour by the week. Indeed Flandry’s seeming contradiction, between his extreme individualism and his allegiance to what he knows is a dying government, is both the core of his character and something he shares with his creator. We also know, from other Flandry stories, that the Empire will in fact soon collapse and that the Long Night, a centuries-long era of barbarism and disconnect across many worlds, will soon commence. And we know that Flandry is in no imminent danger, for better or worse. The real tension, then, lies in McCormac and his wife Kathryn, who has been taken captive by the Empire on the basis that she might cough up valuable info on her husband.
Something I admire about Anderson, despite sharply disagreeing with his politics, is that he’s evidently fond of anti-heroes (Flandry, Nicholas van Rijn, David Falkayn, Gunnar Heim), but he also sometimes concocts anti-villains, in that these characters are technically antagonists but meant to be taken as sympathetic or noble. Despite being a thorn in the Empire’s side, McCormac is basically a good man who cares about those who work for him, never mind he also loves Kathryn very much. Much less sympathetic is Snelund, a planetary governor who is horrifically corrupt, and who also wants to put his filthy hands on Kathryn while she is his prisoner; yet this man also watches over Flandry’s assignment. It should not come as a surprise then that Flandry rescues Kathryn and hides out with her on the planet Dido, which has some unusual alien life. It also shouldn’t be surprising that the two fall in love, although understandably Kathryn still cares for McCormac and isn’t eager to be swept off her feet. (I also must say Anderson tries what I think is a 19th century Southern aristocratic accent with Kathryn, and it’s a bit odd.)
So business as usual for Flandry.
The major problem with The Rebel Worlds is that it’s too short. This is a problem Anderson’s novels sometimes have, but it seems to me that scenes and maybe entire chapters that would have fleshed out the conflict are simply not here. Sure, the plot is basically coherent, but we’re far more often told about things than shown them, to the point where I wonder if Anderson was working with a deadline that he struggled with, even with his near-superhuman writing speed. It’s a fine novel that could have easily been better, with some more time.
A solid three stars.
by Cora Buhlert
A New Chancellor and a New Era
Willy Brandt is sworn in as chancellor of West Germany.
In my last article, I mentioned that West Germany was about to have a federal parliamentary election. Now, that election has come and gone and has led to sweeping political change. Because for the first time since the founding of the Federal Republic of Germany in 1949, i.e. twenty years ago, the chancellor is not a member of the conservative party CDU.
Since 1966, West Germany has been governed by a so-called great coalition of the two biggest parties, the above mentioned conservative CDU and the social-democratic party SPD. The great coalition wasn't particularly popular, especially among young people, but due to their large and stable majority, they also got things done.
When the election results started coming in the evening of September 28 and the percentages of the vote won by the CDU and SPD respectively were very close, a lot of people expected that this meant that the great coalition would continue. And indeed, this is what many in the CDU and even the SPD would have preferred.
At home with the Brandts: West Germany's new chancellor Willy Brandt with his Norwegian born wife Rut and their youngest son Matthias.
However, SPD head Willy Brandt, former mayor of West Berlin and West German foreign secretary and vice chancellor in Kurt Georg Kiesinger's great coalition cabinet, had different ideas. And so he chose to enter into coalition negotiations not with the CDU, but with the small liberal party FDP. These negotiations bore fruit and the 56-year-old Willy Brandt was sworn in as West Germany's fourth chancellor and head of a social-democratic/liberal coalition government on October 22.
West German president Gustav Heinemann and the new chancellor Willy Brandt shake hands.
Personally, I could not be happier about this development. I've been a supporter of the SPD for as long as I've been able to vote for them (sadly, I spent the first years of my voting age life under a regime where there were no elections) and I have liked Willy Brandt since his time as mayor of West Berlin. What is more, Willy Brandt is not a former Nazi like his predecessor Kurt-Georg Kiesinger, but spent the Third Reich in exile in Norway and Sweden. Of course, "not a former Nazi" should be a low bar to clear, but sadly West Germany is still infested with a lot of former Nazis masquerading as democrats. And indeed, the one blemish on the otherwise positive results of the 1969 federal election is that the far right party NPD, successor of the banned Nazi Party, managed to gain 3.8 percent of the vote, though thankfully the five percent hurdle keeps them out of our parliament.
Willy Brandt and his (very male) cabinet pose for a photo on the steps outside Villa Hammerschmidt, seat of the West German president.
In one of his first speeches as chancellor, Willy Brandt said he and his government want to "risk more democracy" and promised long overdue reforms. He also wants to initiate talks with East European governments to thaw the Cold War at least a little. I wish him and his cabinet all the best.
A Magical Mystery Tour: The Unicorn Girl by Michael Kurland
During my latest trip to my trusty import bookstore, I came across an intriguing looking paperback in the good old spinner rack called The Unicorn Girl by Michael Kurland. From the title, I assume that this would be a fantasy tale along the lines of The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. The Unicorn Girl, however, is a lot stranger than that.
The Unicorn Girl starts off not in a far-away fantasyland, but in a place that – at least viewed from this side of the Atlantic – seems almost as fantastic, namely a coffeehouse cum performance venue called the Trembling Womb on the outskirts of San Francisco. Our hero Michael (a.k.a. Michael Kurland, the author) is sitting at a table, trying to compose a sonnet, while his friend Chester (a.k.a. Chester Anderson, the author of The Butterfly Kid) is performing on stage, when all of a sudden the girl of Michael's dreams walks in – quite literally, because this very girl has been appearing in Michael's dreams since childhood.
Michael does what anyone would do in that situation: he gets up and talks to the girl. Turns out that her name is Sylvia and that she's looking for her lost unicorn. Michael understandably assumes that Sylvia is playing a joke on him, especially since he had addressed her in the sort of pseudo-medieval language you'd hear at a Renaissance Fair. Sylvia, however, is deadly serious. She tells Michael and Chester that she's a circus performer and that her unicorn Adolphus ran away, when they stepped off the train. There's only one problem: train service into San Francisco ceased six years before. As far as I can ascertain from this side of the Atlantic, this isn't true and San Francisco does have train service, as befits a major metropolis, all which suggests that Michael and Chester live in the future, even though their surroundings seem very much like something you could find in San Francisco right now.
When Michael and Chester ask Sylvia, what year it is, she replies "1936", so Michael and Chester assume that time travel is involved. However, the truth is still stranger than this, for Sylvia seems to have no idea where she is. True, San Francisco today is very different from San Francisco in 1936, but you'd assume that Sylvia would at least recognise the name of the city. The fact that she keeps calling California "Nueva España" is also a clue that Sylvia hails from further afield than our version of 1936.
When Michael, Chester and Sylvia head out to look for the missing unicorn, they are met by some Sylvia's circus friends: Dorothy, an attractive but otherwise normal human woman, Giganto, a cyclops from Arcturus, and Ronald, a centaur. Upon seeing this strange trio, Michael and Chester immediately assume that they are experiencing drug-induced hallucinations – as do two random bystanders. It's a reasonable assumption to make, though two people normally don't experience the same hallucinations, even if they took the same drugs. And Chester swears that he hasn't slipped Michael any drugs…
Methinks we're not in Kansas – pardon, San Francisco – anymore
Before our heroes can get to the bottom of this mystery, they split up to search for the missing unicorn, only to find a flying saucer. There is a mysterious blip and Michael, Chester, Sylvia and Dorotha suddenly find themselves elsewhere and elsewhen, namely in the early Victorian era or rather a version of it that is very reminiscent of Randall Garrett's Lord Darcy stories. I guess they should count themselves lucky it wasn't "The Queen Bee" instead.
The sojourn in the Victorian era according to Randall Garrett ends, when our heroes find themselves falsely accused of jewellery theft (and the way the true culprits accomplished those thefts is truly fascinating). During their escape, there is another blip and our heroes find themselves in World War II in the middle of a battlefield…
For most of its pages, The Unicorn Girl is a picaresque romp through time, space and dimensions. Literary allusions abound, for in addition to the Victorian era according to Randall Garrett, our heroes also briefly visit J.R.R. Tolkien's Middle Earth. It's all great fun, though eventually, there needs to be an explanation for this weirdness. And so, Michael and Sylvia, who have been temporarily separated from Chester and Dorothy, figure out – with the help of Tom Waters, a friend of Michael's and Chester's who'd disappeared earlier – that the blips always happen in moments of danger and crisis. They provoke another blip and finally land in a world that at least is aware that there is a problem with visitors from other times and universes showing up in their world, even if they have no idea why this is happening.
Turns out that all the different time lines and universes are converging, which may well mean the end of this world and any other. Luckily, there is a way to fix this issue and send everybody back to their own universe. The drawback is that solving the problem will be very dangerous. What is more, Michael, Chester and Tom on the one hand and Sylvia, Dorothy and the unicorn (with whom Sylvia has been reunited by now) on the other will return to different universes, even though Michael and Sylvia as well as Chester and Dorothy have fallen in love amidst all the chaos…
A Trippy Delight
The Unicorn Girl is not the sort of book I would normally have sought out, since I'm not a big fan of psychedelic science fiction. However, I'm glad that I read this book, because it's a true delight.
The novel is suffused with humour and wordplay, whether it's the tendency of the Victorians from the Randall Garrett inspired world to speak in very long, very complicated sentences or Michael parodying a wine connoisseur by evaluating plain water. The dialogue frequently sparkles such as when Sylvia asks, "Do you not travel to far-off planets?" and Chester replies, "We barely travel to nearby planets."
Tune in, starting November 13, for twelve days of Apollo 12 coverage!
by Gideon Marcus
Happy Anniversary
A year ago, Richard Milhouse Nixon won the Presidency in part on his "secret plan" to get us out of Vietnam. A few months into his term, besieged by increasingly strident demands for progress, National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger urged patience. If things weren't resolved by November, then we would have cause to complain.
Last week, President Nixon revealed his plan for "Vietnamization" in a prime time television address. It called for eventual turning over of the reins of war to the South Vietnamese. However, the President refused to set a timetable for this turnover, saying that such would lead to undue Communist advantage. Nixon suggested that America might step down its bombing by, say, 20%, and see if the North Vietnamese match our draw-down, but the Paris peace talks are dead, and the U.S. would stay the course as long as was necessary.
The President concluded by asserting that the "silent majority" of Americans was behind his plan, and that no foreign power could defeat the United States: defeat could only come from within.
Well, you can imagine that this statement, tantamount to a continuation of President Johnson's pre-1968 policies, did not sit well with a lot of folks, including a host of Congressmen. The unquiet minority also plans to make their voices heard in a second Moratorium march in a few days. We'll see if it has more impact than the last one.
In Other News
If Nixon's address was something of a disappointment, in contrast, the latest issue of Galaxy makes for consistently pleasant reading:
The collection of Middle Eastern folktales known in English as Arabian Nights or One Thousand and One Nights is familiar to folks all over the world. Case in point, as Rod Serling might say, is the recent Japanese animated film Senya Ichiya Monogatari, which is loosely based on the collection.
Japanese poster for the film. I don't know if it will ever show up elsewhere.
I should point out that this is not a cartoon intended for children. Like the work which inspired it, it contains considerable erotic material. If it ever gets released in the USA, it might get the infamous X rating.
I bring this up because the latest issue of Fantastic contains the first part of a new novel inspired by the same source as the film.
Cover art by Johnny Bruck
As is often the case lately, the cover is (ahem) borrowed from a German publication.
Die Herrscher der Nacht (The Ruler of the Night) is the title of the German translation of Jack Williamson's 1948 novel Darker Than You Think.
Editorial, by Ted White
The editor begins by telling us how the magazine's lead serial (see below) fell into his hands. Long story short, it failed to find a publisher, got reviewed in a fanzine, Ted White read it and liked it. He then goes on to relate the big changes in Fantastic and its sister publication Amazing. My esteemed colleague John Boston has already discussed this in detail, so let me give you the Reader's Digest version. Higher price, more words, only one reprint per issue. Nuff said.
No rating.
Hasan (Part One of Two), by Piers Anthony
Illustrations by Jeff Jones.
More than half the magazine consists of the first installment of this Arabian Nights fantasy adventure.
Hasan is a rather naive and foolish young man, living in Arabia around the year 800 or so. He meets a Persian alchemist who demonstrates how to turn copper into gold. His mother warns him not to trust this fire-worshipping infidel, but Hasan's greed overcomes what little common sense he possesses.
The wicked Persian kidnaps him and takes him on an ocean journey to the island of Serendip. (We call it Ceylon nowadays—the magazine provides a helpful map).
Despite this, Hasan still trusts the alchemist enough to perform the dangerous task of being carried to the top of a mountain by a roc, in order to gather the stuff needed to transform copper into gold. The poor sap doesn't realize that the Persian intends to leave him stranded on the peak, where he'll starve to death.
Suffice to say that, with a lot of dumb luck, Hasan makes his way to an isolated palace inhabited by seven beautiful sisters, who adopt him as their brother. He goes on to witness birds change into even more beautiful women, one of whom he is determined to have for his bride. (She has little say in the matter.)
Seeing her naked while she is bathing makes him fall madly in love.
Without giving away too much, let's just say that the further adventures of Hasan and the bird woman will appear in the next issue.
The author appears to be well acquainted with One Thousand and One Nights, given his accompanying article on the subject (see below.) As far as I can tell, he captures the flavor of this kind of Arabian folktale in a convincing way. Despite the fact that the hero is kind of a dope, and that the female characters (except Hasan's long-suffering mother) mostly exist to be alluringly beautiful, this half of the novel makes for light, entertaining reading.
Three stars.
Morality, by Thomas N. Scortia
Illustration by Bruce Jones.
It's obvious from the start that this is a science fiction version of the myth of the Minotaur, although the author doesn't make this explicit until the end. The legendary monster is an alien stranded on Earth, forced to serve an ambitious king while trying to contact his own kind.
There's not much more to this story than its retelling of the old tale. It plays out just as you'd expect.
Two stars.
Would You? by James H. Schmitz
A wealthy fellow invites an equally rich acquaintance to make use of a magic chair. It seems that it has the ability to allow the person seated in it to change the past.
I hope I'm not revealing too much to state that neither man chooses to alter his past, preferring to leave well enough alone. That seems to be the point of the story. A tale of fantasy in which an enchanted object is not used is unusual, I suppose, if not fully satisfying.
Two stars.
Magic Show, by Alan E. Nourse
A couple of guys watch a magic show at a cheap carnival. One of them heckles the magician, who invites him to take part in his greatest feat.
You can probably see where this is going. No surprises in the plot. I have to wonder why a real, powerful magician works at a lousy little carnival.
Two stars.
X: Yes, by Thomas M. Disch
An unspecified referendum always appears on the ballot in every election. Everybody knows that the proper thing to do is vote No. A woman chooses to vote Yes, just as children vote Yes during their mock elections.
Can you tell that this is an odd little story? I'm not sure what the author is getting at, unless it's something about conformity and rebellion. At least it's not a simple, predictable plot. Food for thought, I guess.
Three stars.
Big Man, by Ross Rocklynne
The April 1941 issue of Amazing Stories supplies this wild yarn.
Cover art by J. Allen St. John.
I can't argue with the accuracy of the title. A gigantic man — he's said to be one or two miles tall — walks through the Atlantic Ocean to Washington, D. C. The behemoth is under the control of a Mad Scientist, who intends to take over the United States government and run things the way he thinks they should be run.
Illustration by Robert Fuqua.
It's up to a heroic pilot and his girlfriend (who, in an incredible coincidence, turns out to be the sister of the young fellow who was transformed into the giant) to defeat the Mad Scientist and end the reign of terror of the Big Man.
Boy, this is a goofy story. I think the author saw King Kong too many times. The premise is, of course, absurd, and it's treated in the corniest pulp fiction manner imaginable.
One star.
Alf Laylah Wa Laylah — A Essay on The Arabian Nights, by Piers Anthony
As part of the magazine's Fantasy Fandom column, this article is reprinted from the fanzine Niekas. It discusses One Thousand and One Nights in detail, comparing English translations and offering examples of the kinds of tales it contains. Copious footnotes, some serious and some playful. The author clearly knows his subject.
Three stars.
Fantasy Books by Fritz Leiber and Fred Lerner
Leiber quickly gives a positive review of Captive Universe by Harry Harrison, praises Walker and Company for reprinting science fiction classics in handsome hardcover editions, defends the use of strong language in Bug Jack Barron by Norman Spinrad, gives thumbs up to A Fine and Private Place by Peter S. Beagle, and talks about Eric R. Eddison's fantasy novels. He ends this rapid-fire essay by comparing the way that Heinlein, Spinrad, and Eddison describe a woman's breasts. (The latter excerpt is a really wild bit of outrageously purple prose.)
Lerner, in an article reprinted from the fanzine Akos, talks about two nonfiction books about J. R. R. Tolkien. He dismisses Understanding Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings by William Ready as poorly written and overly interpretive, and praises Tolkien: A Look Behind The Lord of the Rings by Lin Carter for its discussion of epic fantasy in general.
No rating.
… According to You, by various
The letters from readers offer both praise and criticism. One of the editor's replies reveals that sales of the magazine went down when Cele Goldsmith was in charge, even though the quality of fiction improved. I hope that's not a bad omen for the way Ted White is taking the publication.
No rating.
Worthy of Scheherazade?
Not a great issue, although Anthony's novel and related essay are well worth reading. The new stuff is so-so and the reprint is laughably poor. It might be better to watch an old movie instead.
No, this is not Galactoscope, which is still a week-and-a-half off, but a review (I suppose in keeping with the subject's rather large girth) presented on its own.
Last year, I believe almost to the day, we got Piers Anthony’s previous novel, Omnivore, which I reviewed a few months later. (There are so many paperbacks out now…) I didn’t like it, but it was, at the very least, a step up from Chthon and Sos the Rope—mind you that the bar was basically on the floor. I was not looking forward to Macroscope, his latest novel, and yet I have to admit, when I weighed this new paperback in my hands (480 meaty pages, courtesy of Avon), I was… morbidly curious. Macroscope is longer than Anthony’s previous two novels combined, and while it certainly feels that way, it also shows Anthony putting a very different level of effort in his writing craft. For better or worse, it will no doubt be one of the most memorable SF releases of 1969.
Ivo Archer is a 25-year-old wanderer who has been struggling to make it in life, on account of being visibly of mixed racial features (taboo today and apparently still the case in the 1980 of the novel’s world), but he’s about to be given some direction when he reunites with an old friend, Brad Carpenter. Ivo and Brad were classmates of a sort, in what is only called “the project,” an ambitious eugenics program in which, over the course of two generations, people were carefully bred to have mixed racial heritages, in the hopes that such a program would produce geniuses. It did not—for the most part. Ivo has a pretty decent IQ of 125, but Brad is a genius, with an IQ of over 200, the only problem being he hides his intelligence (as well as the fact that he isn’t completely white) around his current girlfriend, Afra Glynn Summerfield. Afra is a Georgia girl with (by her own admission) prejudiced views on race, as well as a strange preoccupation with intelligence: people less intelligent than her bore her, but then she also resents people who are too smart, hence Brad’s secrecy. For Ivo it’s love at first sight with Afra, which is hopeless given that Afra is already taken, is a racist, and would find Ivo’s intelligence unimpressive.
This brings us to the macroscope, which itself ends up being rather tangential to the plot, but the idea is that it serves the exact opposite function of a microscope: rather than give detailed images of extremely small objects it gives detailed images of extremely large objects that are also extremely far away. It also serves as a kind of time viewer. The macroscope doesn’t use light, but rather a particle Anthony made up called macrons, which provide both efficiency and clarity, allowing people on the macroscope station to not only view life on other worlds vividly but to view these worlds as they were thousands or millions of years in the past. The good news is that there is (or at least was) intelligent life on other planets; the bad news is that these alien races have invariably gone downhill, even resorting to cannibalism on a mass scale. Why? The answer seems to be a one-way signal coming from an unknown distant planet, no doubt an intelligent race, called “the destroyer,” which if intercepted would turn any intelligent being with an IQ of over 150’s brain to jelly. The higher one’s IQ, the harsher the effect. Brad finds this out, quite tragically, although Ivo suspects his friend wanted to commit mental suicide. But with the loss of one of the station’s top minds, and perhaps more importantly a visiting US senator with a similarly high intelligence, the UN looks to dismantle the station, and so the macroscope will be lost.
Unless it can be hijacked, somehow.
The barrier to entry with Macroscope is a bit high, because if what I just said regarding its plot sounds like gibberish, it is gibberish to some extent. This is the kind of mind-melting and yet far-ranging pseudo-science that A. E. van Vogt excelled at two decades ago, which sadly he no longer seems capable of delivering; but that doesn’t stop Anthony (truly an unexpected successor to van Vogt) from picking up that torch with grace. Nearly every type of science fiction you can think of worms its way into this (admittedly loose) narrative, from time travel (of a sort), to contact with aliens, to robotics (a helpful non-sentient robot named Joseph), to space opera, and even beyond all of those. Astrology, a total non-science which Anthony treats with a kind of disarming (or annoying, depending on who you are) reverence, is discussed extensively through Harold Groton, who spends much of his time lecturing Ivo and Afra (not to mention his wife Beatryx) on horoscopes and the intricate symbolic implications of star signs. Despite the monstrous length of the thing, we’re mostly stuck with four characters (Brad being written out after the opening quarter), although there is a fifth, named Schön, whom Brad hopes can act as a workaround for the destroyer. Schön is a “primitive genius,” which is to say he is unspeakably intelligent but with the emotional maturity of a five-year-old, acting as the Kurtz to Ivo’s Charles Marlow, or as the mischievous god Pan lurking in the woods. There are so many twists and turns in how character relationships change over the course of the novel that I would be writing a dissertation in trying to describe them; and anyway, seeing Anthony get a surprising amount of mileage out of such a small cast of characters is part of the fun.
In terms of scale, Macroscope is easily the grandest SF novel I have read this year, to the point where it becomes dizzying. The closest I can think of as a comparison, aside from van Vogt’s glory days, would be John Brunner’s Stand on Zanzibar; but whereas that novel is a panorama, Macroscope is much more like a sandbox, in which Anthony has given himself some very fine toys to play with. This is by no means a perfect novel, of course. For one, its jack-of-all-trades approach to subject matter means that aside from maybe astrology, nothing is dwelt on for too long or too thoroughly. A recurring issue I’ve had with Anthony also rears its ugly head, if only for a relatively short time here, in the form of his ogling at women. There’s a protracted and rather wince-inducing scene in which, for plot-related reasons, Ivo is “forced” (by that I mean the author is forcing his character’s hand) to feel all over Afra’s body, in great detail. Thankfully nothing quite like this happens again, but I suppose Anthony had to do such a thing to remind us that it was indeed he who wrote this novel. On the positive side, while Afra starts out as a pretty thorny piece of work, she ends up being by far the most psychologically complicated of Anthony’s female characters (I understand that, again, the bar was low), to the point where she becomes as much a protagonist as Ivo. The length can also border on terminal, with the final chapter alone being over a hundred pages long(!), and this last stretch being (excuse my French) such a "clusterfuck" that the reader may become worried about whether there is a light at the end of that tunnel.
As you can see, this is a lot of science fiction for $1.25. Anthony had enough ideas for a few short novels but decided to weave them together in a way that borders on masterful. It is, if nothing else, deeply intriguing and intoxicating, even taking the bogus science into account. It’s a novel that somehow tackles both inner and outer space, being a space opera that’s also a voyage to the center of one man’s psyche. It is like 2001: A Space Odyssey if written by someone who is much more enthusiastic about “free love” and astrology than Arthur C. Clarke can ever muster, being basically a fable about mankind’s maturity and finding a place in the known universe. Macroscope is such a deeply strange and ambitious novel that even its flaws mostly retain a certain nobility, as if those flaws were reasons for buying a copy in the first place. I didn’t think Anthony had such a work in him, and there’s a decent chance he may never write another novel of this caliber.
It almost pains me to say this, but four stars. I see it getting a Hugo nomination, and possibly a Galactic Star nomination as well.
For the past week, the nation of Lebanon has been rocked from within by "Palestinian" guerrillas. Yesterday, at the behest of leaders in Cairo, Damascus, and Tripoli, the raiders settled down, awaiting what looks like will be a significant negotiation between Arab power brokers.
I'm no expert on the issue, but here's what I've gleaned. When Israel declared independence in 1948, a significant percentage of the Arab population within the nascent nation's borders left the former mandate of Palestine. Some fled violence, like that inflicted by classy folk such as Menachem Begin of the Irgun, a Jewish terrorist group. Others left at the exhortation of their Arab brethren, who proclaimed that they were about to drive the Jews into the sea.
Hundreds of thousands of Arabs ended up in neighboring countries: Jordan, Egypt, Syria, and Lebanon. Indeed, exiled Arabs now comprise 12% of the population of Lebanon—fully 300,000 people. They live in camps administrated by the draconian Lebanese Deuxième Bureau.
The "Palestinian Liberation Organization", founded in 1964 with the goal of "the liberation of Palestine", initiated terrorist attacks against Israel after The Six Day War in 1967. Such are being carried out from enclaves in other countries with more or less tacit permission from those countries' governments.
The recent irruption in Lebanon arose from the Lebanese cracking down on these raids. The violence, thwarted from heading southward, flooded internally—into Beirut, Tyre, Lebanese Tripoli, and other major cities. Egypt, Syria, and Libya all leaned hard on the Christian Arab nation to let loose the reins on the guerrillas. Lebanon has relented, and the negotiations will proceed shortly. Participants will be Dr. Hassan Sabri El Kholi, personal envoy of Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser, Libyan Interior Minister Mousa Ahmed, and guerrilla chief Yasser Arafat. While there's no telling what the outcome will be, one has to imagine the Palestinians will be allowed to resume their raids into Israel again.
With the War of Attrition occupying Israel on its western and eastern fronts, it now looks as if the Jewish state is about to be busy defending from the north, too. Most folk are betting on the Israeli Defense Force, but can the country survive under siege forever?
Time will tell.
Inside Analog
by Vincent Di Fate
Like Lebanon, the crisis facing Analog comes from within, as evidenced by the latest issue. From without, the magazine looks like it always has—handsome, professional. But within, one can see the rot. Not that it's all bad; indeed, much of it is decent. But what works is stagnant, and what doesn't work is very much the sort of thing we expect from long-toothed editor John Campbell.
Gottlos, by Colin Kapp
Starting off, we have what looks like a Bolo story—one of those Keith Laumer tales featuring a sentient, super-tank. Unlike Laumer's stories, this one has a lot of action, with the Fiendish mauling dozens of opposing vehicles, overruning a command post, and then meeting its match with the arrival of the ebony Gottlos.
After Fiendish is destroyed, we learn that it was actually a remotely controlled tank. Its pilot, Manton, had so thoroughly melded with the machine, that the result was a gestalt personality, one motivated by violence and vengeance. With his vehicle destroyed, Manton falls into an apparent funk, shaken by the appearance of a more powerful machine. The real terror of Gottlos is that it seems to need no radio controls at all. Is it autonomous? A kind of cybernetic beast?
Kapp has written more of a philosophical than predictive piece, describing how a society might decay under the strain of endless war and complete mechanization. I appreciate Kapp's skill with English, but the story itself seemed a bit implausible in its setup.
Three stars.
Telepathy – Did It Happen?, by J. B. Reswick and L. Vodonik
Oh boy. A pair of cranks conducted a telepathy experiment. Here's the notion: telepathy is only reliable about 1-2% of the time. But what's really happening, they suppose, is that there's just so much interference that the message gets clogged with static. If one conducts thousands of tests using a simple message, the errors will be reduced, and the message will stand out.
The setup they used involved a binary message and transmitter. After many trials, the experimenters determined that had gotten the error down low enough to show that something had objectively been transmitted. Of course, the researchers admitted that their data only supported this conclusion if you read the results backwards (i.e. if the 1s of the original message were logged as 0s and vice versa.)
Given the thin margins of success, if you gotta flip the results on their heads to get any kind of answer, I suspect it's all bogus. Which is how I'm beginning to feel about psionics in general.
One star.
Weapon of the Ages, by W. Macfarlane
by Leo Summers
Humanity is hounded by vicious extraterrestrials when they try to go to the stars. One pilot crashlands on a neutral world, is conducted to a mysterious weapon, and manages to wipe out a set of local marauders. The weapon's use has side effects, one which the owner's race is prepared for, but not the human who fired it.
Macfarlane is trying for a cute sting-in-the-tail story, but the whole thing is nonsensical, so it lacks the desired impact.
Two stars.
The Ambassadors, by as by J. B. Clarke
by Leo Summers
A set of three disparate aliens makes contact with the galactic organization of which the humans are a member. Said aliens claim to be vastly superior to our federation, but they say they'll be generous and give us a few technological wonders—if only we'll give them an example of one of our best starships, so they can gauge our level of progress. Since homo sapiens has (per the story) an unique ability to sniff out a scam, a human is sent to investigate to see if the aliens are on the level.
Things that suggest the aliens are hoaxing: they showed up in a borrowed spaceship, no one has ever heard of their stellar confederation, and their "capital" planet is a smoggy wasteland. Points in their favor: the three wear a common uniform and despite profound apparent racial differences, work together in perfect harmony. Conclusion, they must represent an ancient and tight-knit federation!
Much is made of the fact that most species in the galaxy are bi-sexual. Not that you'd know from this story, whose only female human is a "pert secretary." The leader of the alien delegation is a female, to the surprise of the humans receiving them. Cue the snide comments about how women always have to speak for the menfolk (the implication being that such arrogance is misplaced). In the end, the gender of the aliens is the key to unpuzzling the obvious hoax.
Clarke spends a lot of time setting up a puzzle whose solution is apparent from nearly the beginning. The characters have to be obtuse to make the story work. Obtuse and sexist.
A scientist in an isolated base on the Moon has completed his work: he has perfected a spore that will inject itself into any alien genetic structure, instilling an irresistible trust of the human form. By seeding the stars with this spore, when we meet any extraterrestrials, they will necessarily greet us with love and affection.
But before the spore can be deployed, an alien armada shows up. Can you guess what completely unexpected result ends the tale based on the story's setup?
This is comic book level stuff. Two stars.
The Yngling (Part 2 of 2), by John Dalmas
by Kelly Freas
Concluding the two-part serial begun last ish, The Yngling latter half is choppy but worthy.
When we last left our hero, the psi-adept Nordic warrior, Nils Ironhand, he had been sent into the lion's den. More specifically, to the domain of Kazi, an immortal (through soul transferrence into new bodies) who reigns through unbelievable cruelty. His armies are poised at the doorstep of Europe, and in short order, more than thirty thousand of his "orc" hordes will sweep through the Balkans bent on rapine and ravagery.
Nils presents a condundrum to the psionic tyrant as his signature trait is the lack of an internal monologue. Thus, his mind cannot be read, barely even sensed. He also is completely without guile. Interestingly, while this wordless mentality is portrayed as an unique characteristic, and perhaps a side effect of Nils' psi powers, it can't be that rare in the real world. Indeed, one of the Journey's very own, Tam Phan, possesses this trait. Now, Tam is also a fantastic warrior, so there may be a connection.
Tam and familiar faces at a local gathering of Vikings
In any event, after Nils gets to witness some particularly gruesome examples of Kazi's barbarism, he escapse, makes it back to Hungary, and organizes a resistance comprising Magyar, Ukrainian, Polish, and Bohemian knights…as well as hundreds of his kinsman, who have just crossed the Baltic, fleeing the impending Ice Age. The resulting battle is lengthy, desperate, and strategic in detail. Of course, you can guess who wins.
This is a tough book to rate! It's firmly in the genre of magical post-Apocalypse, along with Omha Abides, Spawn of the Death Machine, Out of the Mouth of the Dragon, and so on. I happen to like this genre, and while I'm growing to loathe psi stories, in these settings, I can just pretend it's a kind of magic, or maybe lost technology.
The key to writing this genre well, and Dilmas does, is to bathe it in sensuality and adventure. In many ways, Nils is more akin to Conan than any scientifical hero you'd expect to find in Analog. I also greatly appreciate that Dilmas manages to convey the most unspeakable of tortures completely obliquely. A few artful words can chill far more than pages of explicit gore.
Too, I enjoyed the grand depiction of the battle, complete with fog of war and the uncertainty that accompanies it. So vivid is this portion of the novel, that one could probably adapt a cracking wargame from it. Jim Dunnigan, are you listening?
It's not all roses, of course. As in the first half, the various sections of the novel don't quite hang together well, like bricks without mortar. Much is bridged in shorthand. Also, Nils having to retell the same story to half a dozen European lords to rally them against the orcs was a bit tiresome. Perhaps all of these things will be smoothed when this story inevitably gets picked up by Ace. Or maybe not—they like their books short.
Anyway, I'd give this installment four stars, three-and-a-half for the whole. Fans of this sort of thing, like my nephew, David, may notch up their assessments a touch.
Doing the math
Boy, Analog has been bad lately. I know it seems like I just keep saying it over and over again, but until these doldrums end, I'll have to find creative ways to repeat myself.
Women wrote about 10% of what was published this month, and you could fit all the four and five star stuff in two digests. Given that eight came out for November, that's a pretty weak showing.
Perhaps if Ted White, Ed Ferman, Charles Platt, and Ejler Jakobsson went over to Condé Nast headquarters for a negotiation, Campbell might loosen the reins on his writers. Couldn't hurt!
Trek Correspondent Joe Reid has jumped from TV to film. We think you'll enjoy his take on a most mind-altering movie!
by Joe Reid
Change of Mind, directed by Robert Stevens, is a film about David Rowe (played by Raymond St. Jacques), a successful white district attorney whose brain is transplanted into the body of a terminally injured Black man, Ralph Dickson. The story operates on many layers: it’s a respectful and intelligent thought experiment on how a newly reborn Black man might engage with and find relevance in a prejudiced society. It’s also a courtroom drama about the murder of a woman and the fight to bring her killer to justice. Primarily, however, this movie explores the complexities of the relationship between David and his wife, Margaret Rowe (played by Susan Oliver of Star Trek fame), who struggles to fully accept her husband after his physical transformation.
The title, Change of Mind, is somewhat misleading, as David Rowe’s mind doesn’t really change throughout the movie. Instead, it’s the minds of those around him that David must work to change.
My overall experience watching Change of Mind was a pleasant one. However, I have three key criticisms of the film. First, the movie starts abruptly with the brain surgery, never allowing the audience to experience the white David Rowe or the original Ralph Dickson. While I understand that this approach was likely more efficient and less complicated (as it avoids the need for two actors to portray the same character), it is a missed opportunity for deeper context. Second, there were a few strange, psychedelic dream sequences—while musically scored by the great Duke Ellington, they felt somewhat out of place within the overall narrative. Lastly, the ending was too abrupt. David, through grit and integrity, overcomes numerous challenges and takes some losses, all in pursuit of the truth. He’s portrayed as a character who does everything right. But at the last minute, he makes a seemingly foolish decision, and the movie ends. The conclusion felt jarring, to say the least.
What I liked most about the movie is that it successfully delivered on its key themes. There are many scenes featuring David and Margaret navigating their new lives together. While Raymond St. Jacques’s performance was fantastic, Susan Oliver stood out, delivering a subtly nuanced portrayal of a woman who deeply loves and supports the man she married—even after the change—but struggles to fully reintegrate him into her heart. With messy and unwavering devotion, she does everything possible to fight for her husband, which is admirable to see. The movie stops just shy of delivering a payoff for all her efforts.
Along with Ms. Oliver, the beautiful and talented Janet MacLachlan (Lt. Charlene Masters from the Star Trek episode "The Alternative Factor") demonstrated not only her singing talent but delivered a soul stirring performance as Elizabeth Dickson, the wife of the deceased Ralph Dickson (who's body David Rowe now inhabited). At a point in the story when it seemed that David and Margaret were at their weakest, Elizabeth showed up and restored both their spirits.
Throughout the film David battles his new body. He fights for his love. He fights former friends, employees, authorities, entire communities, and even the government. These led to some powerful scenes that we are unaccustomed to seeing a black lead in a movie navigate. St. Jacques portrays David as a confident and mostly self-assured man moving through each encounter with practiced ease.
The courtroom scenes were smartly done and carried significant weight. David proved himself capable of handling every challenge the story threw at him, tackling problems with integrity and intelligence.
Despite the few drawbacks I mentioned, I would recommend Change of Mind as a story that tackles tough topics with a degree of realism and emotional depth. The situations in the movie were believable without being predictable, and the emotional gravity of the characters doesn’t come across as heavy-handed or preachy. The acting is more than adequate, and the musical score is hip.
A study just completed by the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare has concluded that cyclamates may cause bladder tumors in rats.
How does this affect you?
Decades ago, it paid to be plump. It was a sign of wealth and health. It was attractive! These days, we're in the Grape Nuts generation, and it's now all about fitness and being slender. How to reconcile the popularity of fizzy sweet sodapop and the desire to cut sugar from our diets (despite the Sugar Council telling us it's good for us)?
Early this decade, a slew of soft drinks came out, sweetened not with sugar, but with a blend of artificial sweeteners—saccharin and cyclamates. Diet Rite and Tab may not have tasted just like Coke and Pepsi, but they did the job and preserved the waistline.
But now, thanks to the HEW report, soft drink companies are all pulling their cyclamate sodas off the market as of February 1, 1970. Grab your vintage colas while you can, because they won't exist come next spring!
What does the future hold for diet sodas? Well, for now, saccharin is still legal, though by itself, it's a bit bitter (remember the "sach" tablets Winston Smith put in his coffee in 1984)? There is talk of putting sugar back into diet sodas…just less of it.
And, since this is a science fiction 'zine, we can always speculate that new and better sweeteners will be developed. Maybe even on purpose this time—did you know that both saccharin and cyclamates were discovered by accident? Constantin Fahlberg was researching coal tar derivatives and forgot to wash his hands before going for lunch, when he discovered saccharine was discovered in 1879. And grad student Michael Sveda was working on anti-fever drugs in 1937; some got on a cigarette, and when he took a drag, it tasted sweet.
Cue the commercials:
Bob: My cigarette just isn't doing it for me anymore.
Larry: Try mine! It's new.
Bob: Hey! Not bad…sweet!
Larry: You better believe it.
The new Supreme Court, whose prime continuity to the old one is the preservation of the name "Warren" in its Chief Justice, is now in session—minus one Justice…for now.
Warren Burger has taken over from Earl Warren, and one can already feel the rightward lurch of our nation's highest judiciary. Now, President Richard Milhouse Nixon plans to careen the Supreme Court in an even more conservative direction.
Tricky Dick's nomination to fill the seat left when LBJ's nominee, Abe Fortas, didn't get the job, is Clement F. Haynsworth. Haynsworth is currently a United States circuit judge of the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit (Atlantic coast of the Upper South), a position he has held since being appointed their by Ike in 1957. The Senate Judiciary Committee on October 9th approved 10-7 the consideration of Justice Haynsworth.
The road ahead is far from clement for Haynsworth, however. For one, he bought 1000 shares of Brunswick (the bowling company) just before publishing a ruling he helped make on said company. After the heightened scrutiny on ethics that accompanied the Fortas nomination, Haynsworth is under an intense microscope. Labor groups maintained that he should have recused himself from a case involving a textile mill; he owned shares of a company that did business with the mill.
Critics of the storm say this is just tit for tat after the Fortas fight, rather than for any substantive reason. What's really at stake is Haynsworth is a reactionary. He affirmed the decision by local authorities to close the Prince Edward County schools to avoid integration, he upheld the constitutionality of school voucher programs used to fund segregated private schools, and he supported the management of the Darlington Manufacturing Company in South Carolina when it closed down to avoid its employees unionizing.
Will Haynsworth make it on the bench? It's hard to imagine he will. If a Republican minority was sufficient to deny Fortas a seat, then a Democratic majority will surely roadblock Haynsworth. If and when this happens, the question is whether Nixon will double down or conciliate. At stake this season are decisions on the tax exempt status of churches, the death penalty, punitive drafting of war protesters, and the rights of Black Americans.
Stay tuned…
Entertainment delayed
Just as we're playing the waiting game to see the direction jurisprudence goes in America, so the latest issue of Galaxy science fiction makes it clear that the future of SF, particularly in the pages of the former queen of the genre, is as yet uncertain.
by Jack Gaughan (as are, presumably, all of the other illustrations in this magazine)
![[November 22, 1969] Crash and Burn (the movie <i>Journey to the Far Side of the Sun</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/691126sunposter-672x372.png)
![[November 20, 1969] You say you want a revolution… (December 1969 <i>Fantasy and Science Fiction</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/691120fsfcover-408x372.jpg)
![[November 16, 1969] Fun, Frivolity, and Flandry (<i>The Unicorn Girl</i> and more!)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/691116covers-672x372.jpg)
![[November 12, 1969] Leadership initiatives (December 1969 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/691110galaxycover-672x372.jpg)
![[November 8, 1969] Arabesques (December 1969 <i>Fantastic</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/COVERARTSMALL.jpg)
![[November 6, 1969] I Can See For Miles (Piers Anthony's <i>Macroscope</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/691106macroscopecover-359x372.jpg)
![[Oct. 31, 1969] Struggling to get out (November 1969 <i>Analog</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/691031analogcover-672x372.jpg)
![[October 28, 1969] Black and White (the movie <i>Change of Mind</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/691028end-504x372.jpg)
![[October 24, 1969] How sweet it isn't (November 1969 <i>Fantasy and Science Fiction</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/691024fsfcover-639x372.jpg)
![[October 12, 1969] My country, right or… (November 1969 <i>Galaxy</i>)](https://galacticjourney.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/691010cover-460x372.jpg)
