Tag Archives: thomas m. disch

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


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

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

More news as I get it.

Let’s start with New Worlds.

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

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

To the stories!

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

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


Illustration by James Cawthorn

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

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

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

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

Conjugation, by Chris Priest

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

The White Boat , by Keith Roberts

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

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

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

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

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

Lost Ground, by David Masson

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

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


Illustration by James Cawthorn

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

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

The Total Experience Kick, by Charles Platt


Illustration by Unknown Artist

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

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

Illustration by Unknown Artist

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

Book Reviews

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

No Letters pages again this month.

Summing up New Worlds

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

The Second Issue At Hand


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

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

Inside Out by Kenneth Bulmer and Richard Wilson

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

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

Three Points on the Demographic Curve by Thomas M. Disch

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

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

The Familiar by Keith Roberts

Illustration by Keith Roberts-  the author!

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

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

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

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

The Real Thing by Eric C. Williams

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

The Plot Sickens by Brian W. Aldiss

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

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

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

Illustration by James Cawthorn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Voice of the CWACC by Harry Harrison

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

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

No Letters to the Editor this month.

Summing up SF Impulse

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

Summing up overall

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

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

Until the next (forward, 1967!)…





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


by Gideon Marcus

Joke's on me

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

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

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

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

No laughing matter


by Howard Purcell

Sabotage, by Christopher Anvil

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

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

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

Two stars.


by Gahan Wilson

The Mystery of the Purloined Grenouilles, by Gerald Jonas

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

Two stars.

Doubting Thomas, by Thomas M. Disch

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

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

The Martian Atmosphere, by Theodore L. Thomas

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

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

Two stars.

Von Goom's Gambit, by Victor Contoski

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

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

Three stars.

The Green Snow, by Miriam Allen deFord

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

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

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

The Gods, by L. Sprague de Camp

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

Four stars.

The Symbol-Minded Chemist, by Isaac Asimov

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

Four stars.

Bumberboom, by Avram Davidson

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

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

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

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

The punchline

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

No joke!


Not me this month.





[October 24, 1966] Birds, Roaches and Rings, New Worlds and SF Impulse, November 1966


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

We seem to be on a bit of a roll at the moment with the British magazines. Generally, there are more stories that are good than bad, and even some really, really good. Whilst the experimental stuff can be a mixed bag, there’s no denying that what we are reading now is *cough* “worlds away” from the generic stuff we were reading ten years ago.

Even comparing the British material with the US magazines shows some clear differences.

And yet at the same time there are worrying rumours that subscriptions are declining, especially that of SF Impulse, which has always been the less popular of the two, and – whisper it softly – the reason for SF Impulse having to bring in a new Editor, Harry Harrison, to try and slow the decline.

Both magazines are bringing readers new ideas and new stories every month – except that both magazines have had to include “classic” stories recently, presumably in part because they are cheaper to republish.

I hope that the rumours aren’t true, but it is a little worrying.

Nevertheless, for now, it’s full steam ahead, but with regular glances to the horizon. Like last month, I’ll start with New Worlds.

This month Mike Moorcock’s Editorial poses the question: “Are there too many science fiction books being published?” Usually to questions like this I would say “Absolutely not!” and then move on, but Mike makes the point that because most of the books published are mediocre, the shop shelves are filled with banality that obscures the ones worth reading and gives sf a reputation for unchallenging and poor reading material. Not sure that I entirely agree, but it means that the Editorial does that thing it should do – of making the reader think and perhaps take a look at something from a different angle before moving on.

Let’s hope the argument doesn’t extend to ”Are there too many British science fiction magazines being published?”

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Storm Bird, Storm Dreamer, by J. G. Ballard

The cover story first. More depressingly dystopian prose from J. G., although this one is more straight-forward than some of his recent efforts. A near future landscape shows a world in environmental chaos. One of the side-effects has been that in Daphne du Maurier style the birds have started attacking humans. Captain Crispin spends much of his time shooting them in a constant battle between Man and bird. He also meets Catherine York, who oddly spends her time collecting dead bird’s feathers and leaving them to dry. These two odd characters develop an unusual relationship that doesn’t end well. The reason for York’s strange behaviour is explained at the end.

This one has the usual dramatic prose from Ballard, with vivid descriptive paragraphs, but in a more straight-forward narrative than his cut-up stories. It reminded me of his piece Dune Limbo, published in the March 1965 issue of New Worlds, where the not particularly pleasant characters attempt to survive in a challenging landscape. Never the happiest of settings, nevertheless the bleakness of Ballard’s more linear narrative makes this one more memorable to me. 4 out of 5.

The Flight of Daedalus, by Thomas M. Disch

And from one type of flight to another. The third month in a row from Disch. This time it is poetry, subtitled “fragment of an abandoned poem” and something Moorcock is still determined to include in the magazine. And whilst it is not my thing, as I have said before, it is fair. 3 out of 5.

A Man Must Die , by John Clute

Another story of flight – anyone would think that there’s a theme here! – but this time about a young man’s determination to run away from the guiding hands of Mother to Father. The main point of the story is that young Picasso Perkins III is the son of a spaceship’s captain, and much of the story is about how he is being educated to take on that role in the future and what happens when he does. Lots to like here in that Clute takes fairly traditional themes and gives them a spin under new management, with some rather surreal, trippy scenes. 3 out of 5.

Flesh of my Flesh , by J. J. Mundis

A new name, and another of those pseudo-religious diatribes that uses religious devotion to try and make a story, full of religious visions and angst. I very rarely like these, but it is done well enough. 3 out of 5.

The Thinking Seat, by Peter Tate

A name that has been quite prominent in the last few months, last seen with The First Last Martyr in the August issue of SF Impulse. Readers seem to really like Peter’s stories, but they never really impress me.

This one’s slightly better – an environmental tale that combines hip poetry with a range of weird and unlikeable characters in a dystopian future frontier town in California. The setting is Ballardian in its depressing-ness, whilst the characters seem to be full of important phrases but otherwise impotent. Feels like the author’s trying to be like Samuel L. Delany or Anthony Burgess, with less success, but it is a fair effort to be different. 3 out of 5.

The Poets of Millgrove, Iowa, by John T. Sladek

Another American big-hitter. This one does that Ballardian thing of sub-dividing the prose into short chapters. It tells of an American astronaut and his wife Jeanne being paraded out at the Millgrove Harvest Festival parade. Like Ballard’s tales, or perhaps John Brunner’s, lots of cultural brand-names bandied around to show that American heroes are being commercialised and sanitised as with any other product. It is interesting to read an American take on the themes that Ballard often uses so well. I can see why Moorcock would like it: it is meant to shock. 4 out of 5.

The Garbage World (Part 2 of 2), by Charles Platt

We continue the environmental theme with the second part of this story. In the first part we were told of Kopra, a world used by the rest of the Belt to dump its waste, and how a construction team were to begin to build a gravity generator to stop the planet destroying itself and becoming an environmental hazard. Recently deposed ‘mayor’ Isaac Gaylord had had his personal wealth stolen and blaming the nomads from outside of the village for taking advantage of the new situation goes to retrieve it with his daughter Juliette and her new boyfriend Lucian Roach. Whilst travelling around a mud lake their tractor had broken down and their radio was stolen, leaving them stranded.

In this installment, Gaylord returns to the village and Lucian finds that there is a devious plot by the outsiders to actually destroy, not save, Kopra. Roach confirms that he is in love with Juliette and goes native. The Kopra-ites escape the planet, and the story ends with an orgy on a spaceship as the planet explodes. (Outside of Heinlein, does this sort of story gain traction anywhere else but in Britain?)

As such a description shows, the cliff-hanger ending last time deteriorates into a pulpy space opera type tale. I was hoping that the story would raise itself above its crass beginning, but sadly it was not to be. Whilst I still think that there’s some good descriptions of this most unusual planet in here, the simple characterisation means that the tale is basically an old-school “planetary explorer” story with sex. 3 out of 5.

The Tennyson Effect, by Graham M. Hall

A new name to me, I think. This story is one of those experimental prose streams of consciousness that try to tell a lot but actually do little. Not for me, I’m afraid. 2 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Realms of Tolkien, by Daphne Castell

An unusual point here, being an article from a writer that we’ve usually known for her fiction. What Daphne does here is tell us of the fantasy that has really caught on in the US, I gather. Most interestingly the article tells of an interview Daphne has had with the reclusive Professor Tolkien about his work and gives the reader both an idea of the story and through discussion with Tolkien a flavour of the complexity of Tolkien’s world. Whilst it is not unbiased, the article clearly shows a detailed knowledge of Tolkien’s writing and makes some interesting points as to his success.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Book Reviews

This month, just one book – Michael Orgill discusses the collection The Voices of Time, edited by J. T. Fraser. It is “a massive study of the problem of time”. The review covers what is good, bad and interesting in the book, and overall “there is a lot to admire.”

No Letters pages again this month.

Summing up New Worlds

Another generally good issue with a combination of new writers and imported Americans who are determined to push the boundaries. I am intrigued by the environmental slant of many of the stories this month, though Moorcock does not seem to make a big deal out of it, choosing instead a flight connection. The experimental stuff still works with varying degrees of success to my mind, although the Editor deserves credit for not sticking to the expected ideas and styles of science fiction.

The Second Issue At Hand


And now to SF Impulse, under the rule of its new editor Harry Harrison. There are signs of changes, this month. We have book reviews and a letters section amidst the fiction.

The Ice Schooner (part 1 of 3) by Michael Moorcock


Illustration by Keith Roberts

To begin with, though, here we have the editor of New Worlds as an author in SF Impulse. To be fair, Mike was an author long before he was the editor of New Worlds, and after his last effort of fiction (Behold, the Man! in the September issue of New Worlds, I was interested to see where this one went.

It is very different. The Ice Schooner is set in some sort of science fantasy setting, with elements of sf but set on a future icy Earth that seems to be straight out of the old adventure pulps.

Konrad Arflane is a man of the ice in a post-Nuclear future where the world is ice-covered and whales have adapted to living on the ice. Humans live in the eight cities of the Matto Grosso between which boats travel on the ice to trade or to hunt the whales as a major food source. Arflane is travelling the ice wastes when he sees a person crawling across the ice. Impressed by the man’s determination to go somewhere, Arflane rescues him. The man is a Friesgaltian aristocrat, which makes his place on the ice even more mysterious.

Taking him to Friesgalt, Arflane discovers that the man is Ship Lord Pyotr Rorsefne of Friesgalt, who is grateful for his rescue. Whilst Rorsefne recovers, Konrad is asked to stay in the Ship Lord’s home, although the lord’s son in law makes him uncomfortable. Konrad is shown a ship belonging to Rorsefne, the Ice Flame, and he becomes restless. He meets an old friend, Captain Jarhan Brenn of the Tender Maiden, and in a bar together they meet legendary harpoonist Long Lance Urquart, who tells everyone of a major herd sighted in the South Ice fields. The next day Pyotr tells Konrad that he would like him to take on a journey to the North where lies the legendary city of New York, where proof of climate change will show that the world is changing again. The story ends on a cliff-hanger as Manfred, Arflame and Janek and Ulrica Ulsenn first agree to go hunting.

I liked it a lot. It reads like some sort of post-apocalyptic Norse fantasy, sort of Moby Dick meets Poul Anderson, and whilst the characters are not particularly original, I enjoyed the imaginative setting very much. As a straight-forward Jules Verne type of tale it is very good, an adventure tale of the old-school, but much, much better than the Platt effort in New Worlds this month. I’m looking forward to seeing where this one sails to in the next issue. Nice to see Kyril Bonfiglioli get the credit for buying this one, too. Like most of Kyril’s material under his editorship, The Ice Schooner is entertaining, if rather unoriginal. 4 out of 5.

Book Fare by Tom Boardman

Aldiss’s review last month of The Clone by Theodore L Thomas and Kate Wilhelm has now developed into a review column. Tom Boardman looks at Frederik Pohl’s A Plague of Pythons and Hal Clements’ Close to Critical. Both show a range in sf – one is more about Sociology, the other a harder sf – and whilst neither are the author’s best, they are both worth reading for different reasons.

The Simple for Love, by Keith Roberts

An Anita (the teenage witch) story! Anita falls in love with a human – a Catholic – and leaves Granny and Foxhanger for him. A surprisingly romantic story from Roberts, this one, with some interesting ideas of the bigger coven network and witchcraft generally. I have grown to like these stories more and more, although I will be the first to admit that the premise is rather silly. 4 out of 5.

Stop Seventeen by Robert Wells

The story of someone (Hart) on an underground train that seems to be forever travelling as after the Apocalypse the system has gone to automatic. Clearly a metaphor for life in general, this one read well. Not entirely pointless, I found myself humming The Beatles’ “Ticket to Ride” whilst reading this one. Not entirely sure whether that is a good thing or a bad one! The ending is rather a let-down, though. 3 out of 5.

Letters to the Editor

Another innovation intended to appeal to the regular reader. One of the letters is from Brian Stableford, who we came across in last month’s Sf Impulse. There are also mentions here of the change in editorship and Keith Roberts responds to a letter about Pavane. Interesting approach in that the author is allowed to respond to the letter-writer.


Illustration by Keith Roberts

The Eyes of the Blind King by Brian W. Aldiss

Another Aldiss tale. The title immediately reminded me of the story The Day of the Doomed King published in Science Fantasy in November 1965. This is deliberate – the same setting but an earlier tale. This time it is a story of deposed and deliberately blinded King Jurosh and seven-year-old Prince Vukasan in Byzantium. Jurosh is wanting to return to Serbia and take back his throne from brother Nickolas. It is a tale of loyalty, murder and betrayal, which is quite violent. This one reminds me of Thomas Burnett Swann’s stories, mixing fantasy with a quasi-historical setting, which for me can only be a good thing. It is as good, if not better than, the first story. 4 out of 5.


Illustration by Keith Roberts

The Roaches by Thomas M. Disch

Another Disch story this month. This one ramps up the psychological horror, a story of how these troublesome insects can force people to leave their apartment. Although we don’t get cockroaches here in Britain, this one did make my skin crawl, which is quite an achievement. 4 out of 5.

SF Film Festival by Francesco Blamonti

Although we had brief reports of Loncon, I don’t think we’ve had a review of a film festival since the Carnell days of New Worlds. This is about the Fourth Annual Festival of Science Fiction Films, held in Trieste in Italy. A good time seems to have been had by many, and there is mention of various films made and authors such as Harry Harrison and Arthur C Clarke who attended. Does feel a little like filler though, even if you could argue that the magazine is trying to broaden its appeal.

Pasquali’s Peerless Puppets by Edward Mackin

The return of a popular character is usually a crowd-pleaser, and so it is here with Edward Mackin’s character Hek Belov. Down on his luck (again), cyberneticist Belov is offered work by Meerschraft – a modern entertainer wishes to resurrect puppeteer Pasquali’s act to a new generation but has found that Pasquali disappeared with the secret of his trade. Belov is persuaded to use his skills to try and resurrect the robotic puppets, but finds a bigger plan at work. It feels a little like a sub-par Asimov Robot story, but I quite enjoyed this one. The style is humorous, yet knowing. 3 out of 5.

Summing up SF Impulse

Interesting issue this one. Nothing I disliked and a lot I did. The changes have started to happen, and Harrison (and Roberts) deserve credit for trying to regenerate the magazine. My only concern is that SF Impulse now reads like New Worlds’ shy cousin – not that different and possibly of lesser interest, overshadowed by its more flamboyant centre-stage-hugging member of the family. Is there room in the British market for both? I hope so, but I’m not sure.

Despite all of this, I liked the issue a lot. Like New Worlds, there’s a mixture of new and regular writers, and some range in the stories. Whilst the stories may be less experimental than this month’s New Worlds, there’s a lot I enjoyed.

Summing up overall

So: which one did I like most? SF Impulse is clearly trying to find a new way forward, if not perhaps as ‘New Wave’ as its more noticeable sibling. Both issues were good, the Ballard story startlingly so, the Moorcock surprisingly so. New Worlds has more troubling, more edgy, more in-your-face content, but is also more prone to stories I like less.

With that in mind, then, and on enjoyment alone, SF Impulse again has it, despite my concerns mentioned above. But is it enough to make that difference in sales? Time will tell.


Until the next…





[September 28, 1966] Garbage and Aliens (October 1966 New Worlds and SF Impulse)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

After last month’s changes, I must admit that I was really looking forward to this month’s issues. I was intrigued – would the change of editor at SF Impulse be noticeable yet? And could editor Mike Moorcock over at New Worlds manage to produce another stellar issue of the same standard as last month?

I’ll start with New Worlds.

Mike Moorcock’s Editorial is not-an-Editorial. Instead Mike extolls a writer, reviewing some of their work. This is usually something that I feel belongs in the reviews section of the magazine.

However, Mike this time tells us of the work of J G Ballard, last seen here last month (and will appear again, later). The Editorial is typically enthusiastic, claiming that Ballard is the “first clear voice” of a new movement in science fiction. To which I mused that his voice is clearly different, whilst his plots are rather obscure.

To the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Garbage World (Part 1 of 2), by Charles Platt

The cover story first. Platt tells of a future where Kopra, a world used by the rest of the Belt to dump its waste, has become increasingly unstable on account of the amount of waste dumped upon it. The people there strive to survive in a world with pollutive skies and garbage-covered landscapes.

However, the arrival of an official with a construction team to build a gravity generator, and deal with the problem before it becomes a hazard to others in the Belt, is greeted with suspicion. The general feeling is that the real motive is to get the locals off the planet and then steal their hoards of accumulated “wealth”.

This is made worse when Isaac Gaylord, the mayor of Kopra, has his wealth stolen and as his stockpile is a sign of his authority, he is deposed. Although suspicion immediately falls upon the construction team, Gaylord blames the nomads from outside of the village for taking advantage of the new situation. The work of the space constructors is also slowed by attacks on them, determined to stop the work. Lucian Roach, a Recorder for the Belt party, and Gaylord and his daughter Juliette go to meet the outsiders to get them to allow a restart of the gravity generator construction but also to get his hoard back and regain his status. Whilst travelling around a mud lake, their tractor breaks down and their radio is stolen, leaving us with a cliffhanger until next issue.

I quite liked the premise of this one. The story makes use of a valid environmental issue – with a growing population, what should we do with our litter in the future? Unfortunately, whilst the idea is interesting, the characterisation is poor and the plot unoriginal. In particular, the mayor, Isaac Gaylord, comes across rather like Ralph Richardson’s Boss of Everytown in the film Things to Come – a man of the people, yet ill-mannered and decidedly small-minded. There’s a weak love story begun here too. Reminiscent of an old-school “planetary explorer” story, this was readable, but won’t win any prizes for its telling. 3 out of 5.

To the Pure , by Damon Knight

An appearance of an American author here, who rather like James Blish I seem to know more for his criticism than his fiction. I enjoyed this one. It is a story of human-Antarian relationships, a boy-meets-girl-meets-alien kind of story. When Mr. Nellith, a big bird-like Antarian, arrives to fix the hyper-radio, human technician Jeff Gorman is aggrieved and does everything he can to make the alien’s life horrible. Despite all of Gorman’s boorish antics and general unpleasantness, Nellith completes the job and leaves the planet, taking Gorman’s wife in the process. Although this may sound unreasonable, Gorman is particularly nasty, which gives the reader the feeling that in the end justice was served. Another that is quite readable, though totally predictable. 3 out of 5.

The Squirrel Cage, by Thomas M. Disch

And no sooner do we have one story from this promising young writer, but we have another. I was impressed by Thomas’s debut here in last month’s New Worlds. As for this month, you know the idea that with enough time, monkeys could type out the works of Shakespeare? Well, here’s a slightly different version. This time it is the story of a man named Disch and a typewriter, locked in a lighted room. The man has no idea why he is there – is it an experiment or an observation? – and without knowing what day or time it is, is reduced to copying out or making up dreadful poetry and stories to pass the time. The writer eventually produces the theory that he is in a squirrel cage, where the typing is purely exercise for him, and he is perhaps entertainment in a zoo.

Almost but not quite as good as last month’s effort, I think. Still readable. The trains of thought throughout are logical and there is a faintly amusing tone throughout to give the impression that the writer is in on the joke as well as part of the joke. The attempts at poetry and short stories are deliberately awful. Are we to make fun of the writer or sympathise with him? Not sure – but this confirms my idea last month that Disch is an author to watch. 4 out of 5.

Be Good Sweet Man, by Hilary Bayley

Hilary’s return to fiction after some time as a book reviewer. Whilst the setting is science fiction, this is really a story of sexual politics: on Mars the Conservative and Reform Party has dared to replace its previous candidate with a man! The main idea of the plot is that, after the Third World War, it is felt that it is time to let women run the place – the men made such a mess, after all.

It is amusing to read what can happen with gender stereotypes reversed, although the story makes the mistake, in my opinion, of simply swapping the genders and then letting the women behave like the stereotype of men and presumably the men more like the original stereotype of women. It lacks complexity and depth. 3 out of 5.

Crab Apple Crisis, by George Macbeth (for Martin Bell)

Mike continues his determination to foist poetry upon the readers. I know that there are many who like it, but generally it is not my thing. Having said that, this is a poem of war: of how an accumulation of minor events, namely the stealing of crab-apples, can lead to a major incident. 3 out of 5.

Divine Madness, by Roger Zelazny

Another American big-hitter. Roger’s latest is about a person experiencing time going backwards. The result? Lots of things in reverse – drinking, smoking – and sentences as speech written backwards. The attention is held by knowing that the narrator is about to repeat something that was unpleasant in reverse. It’s a nice idea, though rather impractical, and the reason for this happening is not entirely clear. However, this is pleasingly different from what we’ve seen from Roger so far – a sign of a talent, I think. Not his best, but good. 4 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

The Steel Corkscrew, by Michael Butterworth

Michael is a relatively new talent that we’ve met before with Girl in the May issue of New Worlds. Eight outcasts return to land on a dusty deserted Earth. A strange corkscrew spire is all that remains. Lots of discussion about what it is and where it came from, before the crew find a way in. Death and strange things happen. All seems a bit pointless, although that may be the point. All is death and pain, it seems. 3 out of 5.

The Greatest Car in the World, by Harry Harrison

Just in case you haven’t realised, here’s Harry to remind us that he’s not just an editor and a critic over at SF Impulse, but also a writer. A story for petrol-heads, though you do not have to be one to like it: American Ernest Haroway visits in Italy the Maestro Bellini, the reclusive elderly creator of Bellini sports cars. Haroway returns an item from a Bellini car involved in a previous motor race crash and is given a prototype to drive home in, Bellini’s last ever effort. The ending describes the modifications Haroway will have to make to adapt the car for the US market, in other words to turn the genius of a once-in-a-lifetime car into an inferior mass-production model. Lots of technical talk, which sounds real, although it may not be. 3 out of 5.

Three Days in Summer, by George Collyn

George is now probably a veteran of these here pages, being a regular essay writer, reviewer and story writer at New Worlds. This one’s relatively minor, a re-tread of Orwell’s 1984. A Whitehall romance in a future despotic state, combining bureaucracy and public hangings with a horribly humid Summer. Very similar initially to A Hot Summer’s Day by John Bell in the July issue of Impulse, but this one is perhaps a little more restrained. Like Bell’s story, 3 out of 5.

Prisoners of Paradise, by David Redd

A new writer, I think. Shaamon is an artist who can change form and creates art with light. She finds and merges with a dying creature in a spaceship. The knowledge she experiences she takes back to her Nest mind pool to add to the group consciousness. The group decides to try and find more like this creature, who is clearly human. The purpose of the story seems to be that even in paradise, you should not stop pushing boundaries and acquiring new experiences for the greater good. Whilst this is a debut story, the lyrical writing and vivid imagery suggests that this is a writer with promise. 4 out of 5.

Notes from Nowhere, by J. G. Ballard

No doubt to go with Moorcock’s glowing recommendation in this month’s Editorial, here we have J G’s article "to produce these notes explaining some of his current ideas."

I am of a mind that if an author has to explain himself then I question the validity of their work. Nevertheless, Ballard does try to capture the impossible here. Interesting reading, although I suspect it will leave some readers as confused as ever. Some nice name-checking, though.

Book Reviews

This month James Cawthorn covers a pile of Jack Vance stories now available here in Britain: the stories in The Many Worlds of Magnus Ridolph, and the novels The Languages of Pao, and The Blue World. All are generally liked, although there are some weaker stories in the story collection.

Samuel R. Delany’s Babel-17 also deals with languages, and is highly regarded, which ”only occasionally trips over its hyperbole”.

Frank Herbert, he of Dune fame, has two books reviewed this month. Destination: Void and The Green Brain seem to cover all the bases here – "Journeys also figure prominently… as do giant brains, highly-sexed heroines, religion and characters who endlessly analyse each other’s motives.” And if you didn’t want to read those books before, now you do!

No Letters pages again this month.

Summing up New Worlds

This is another one of those odd issues of New Worlds where I found a lot to like but not to love. Compared with last month’s issue, this is weaker and yet I can’t say I disliked it. Moorcock is using a broad range here and trying to introduce more relatively new writers alongside the established favourites. Will an article by Ballard be enough to persuade readers to buy? Or a story from promising new writer Disch? Not sure.

The Second Issue At Hand

And now to SF Impulse, under the rule of its new editor Harry Harrison.

With the feeling that there’s a sign saying “Under New Management” hanging off it, Harry in his Editorial sets out his stall. He acknowledges the work of previous editor Kyril and present Managing Editor Keith Roberts, promising much, calming troubled waters, and being positive about the future.

Day Million by Frederik Pohl

Another author who is also an editor. This one is a bit odd, as is perhaps befitting the New Wave. A story of genetics and boys not being boys and girls not being girls in a far future. It is also a love story, though Dora is seven feet tall and Don is a cybernetic man. The style is interesting – a story that is written in a conversational style and raises your expectations before contradicting them. I liked it: it doesn’t take itself too seriously, although it is however another reprint, from Rogue Magazine in the US. I guess that this might be where the sexual content was first suited. 4 out of 5.

The Inheritors by Ernest Hill

Ernest’s a New Worlds regular, last seen in the June issue with the not-great Sub-liminal. This time around, we are set in a future where food is processed and much of the work is automated. The overly stressed manager of this world spends most of his time on the verge of a mental breakdown. His attempt to escape the rat race is futile, leading to an inevitable, weak ending. Over-excited and yet predictable, this is another one that seems to be doing little but filling space. 2 out of 5.

Book Review, by Brian W Aldiss

And it would of course not be right to have a Harrison production without some input via Mr Aldiss. Just to make it clear, this is not a story named “Book Review”, but a book review of The Clone by Theodore L Thomas and Kate Wilhelm. Whilst the book under review seems to be nothing new, Aldiss’s review is entertaining , as usual.

Breakdown by Alistair Bevan

Keith Roberts’ nom-de-plume returns with another story set in Bill Frederick’s garage – you know, the one with the demonised car back in the August issue. This time Bill’s mechanical skills are put to the test when he is asked by a local to slow his car down as it has become too fast for him. Investigating further, we discover that the car, having broken down, was tuned up by an on-the-road mechanic to be better than ever before. The twist in the story is that the roadside rescuer is an alien, and Bill has to come to his rescue to fix his alien spaceship. It is all as silly as it sounds, but I liked the pleasingly breezy style to this story.

What is it with all the motor car stories, though? 3 out of 5.

Fantasy and the Nightmare by G. D. Doherty

G. D. Doherty is an academic who has written for the analytical fanzine SF Horizons before.

Here he discusses the point made by Ballard that the most important aspects of SF are really just Fantasy. Doherty unpacks the idea of what Fantasy is – or isn’t – and refers to Ballard, James Blish, Brian Aldiss, as well as non-genre works to make this point. Quite dense stuff that is different in tone and depth to the rest of the work in the magazine, although it is worth comparing to Ballard’s notes in New Worlds.

The Boiler by C. F. Hoffman

Following on from a discussion of Fantasy, we now have a reprint of a classic Fantasy story, first published in 1842. One of those creepy Weird Tales type of stories about Ben Blower, a seaman trapped in a boat’s boiler room during a heavy storm. Its style is quite out of step with the modern material in the magazine, and its olde prose quite jarring in comparison also. Effectively claustrophobic. 3 out of 5.

The Man Who Came Back by Brian Stableford

You might remember Brian for his illuminating attempt to define science fiction in the November 1965 issue of Science Fantasy, or his promising story in the same issue, Beyond Time’s Aegis co-written as “Brian Craig” with Craig A. Mackintosh. This time we look at the idea of identity through William Jason, a space pilot who wakes up in the form of something else. The big debate is whether he is still William or not. Short – I rarely say these things, but actually this one feels like it could do with being longer. 3 out of 5.

The Experiment by Chris Hebron

A new writer. Alfred is a child that like many others has been born with esper powers. The Race Purity League see this as a threat and are determined to destroy the mutants or at least limit them. Scientists try to investigate the matter further. Lots of talk about the importance of the espers' rights and their need to survive follows. Shades of Slan from over 25 years ago, or even John Wyndham’s The Midwich Cuckoos from 1957 show that this idea never goes out of fashion. 3 out of 5.

The Unsung Martyrdom of Abel Clough by Robert J. Tilley

This is basically a cowboy western in space. Alien Vat on his first solo Hunt crashes on an alien planet. He hopes to make good his error by capturing some of the human inhabitants of a village and attempts to disguise himself before going to the local bar. He fails. The humans, straight out of the Old West, manage to see through this. A weak ending. 3 out of 5.

Make Room! Make Room! (Part 3 of 3), by Harry Harrison

The last part of this serial novel has a lot to live up to. In this last part New York’s Summer has given way to Winter. Where it was once a heatwave, it is now freezing. Sol, the friend of Police Detective Andy Rusch has broken his hip and is now recuperating in their shared flat, being looked after by Andy’s now-girlfriend Shirl.

The killer of crime boss “Big Mike” O Brien, Billy Chung, is forced to leave the Brooklyn Shipyards where he has been hiding with his vagrant-friend Peter.

The unremitting misery continues, even though there’s a change in the weather. (How do people in New York cope with this?) The story is still bleak. There’s much talk, especially from Sol, of a need for family planning and how uncontrolled births have led to the world as it is today.

I was interested to see if the story caught the murderer in the final part. I’m pleased to say that the ending is quite satisfying, although the demise of the killer is rather quickly wrapped up. It seems that that part of the story is not that important; the setting is most significant. Whilst it is enjoyable, I think that this part was not quite as good as the initial set up or last month’s part, so 4 out of 5. Nevertheless, this has been a notable story and one I’ll remember for a while.

Summing up SF Impulse

The first issue of a new regime, although with assistant editor Keith Roberts still doing much of the work. I can’t see that much of a difference, at least at the moment. Like this month’s New Worlds, there are a lot of stories here, and the issue gains by range if not really in depth. The Harrison finishes fairly well, but there’s a lot of filler here, including reprints. The introduction of more sf criticism is an interesting move, but the use of “classic” stories to fill space a negative one.

Summing up overall

A tougher decision to choose this month. Both issues are fair, and both have gone for range rather than depth. But with nothing particularly strong in New Worlds, though I quite liked Disch’s story, the winner this month for me is, I think, SF Impulse [the Editor's averaging of Mark's star ratings be damned! (ed.)]. It’s not perfect by any means, but it just shows that the magazine is going to keep on fighting – at least for now.

Until the next…



(Join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Pacific AND Eastern — two showings) for the next episode of Star Trek!)

Here's the invitation!



[August 28, 1966] Messiahs and Resignation (New Worlds and SF Impulse, September 1966)


by Mark Yon

Scenes from England

Hello again!

An interesting month for the Brit magazines, as there seems to be changes going on – again. More of which later, but I’m going to change convention this month and start with New Worlds, simply because it arrived first!


Terrific cover by Keith Roberts

The magazine is here.

Having had time off from writing the Editorial for a couple of months, editor Mike Moorcock’s back and clearly on a mission. His Editorial this month sets out his stall from the beginning as it once again tackles the often-taboo subjects of sex and religion in SF.

Regular readers will know that really this is actually nothing new – Moorcock’s mentioned these topics before, and often.  My first review of New Worlds was of an issue with the Harry Harrison story The Streets of Askelon in it, which is mentioned here as an example of a controversial story. However, this time the stories are being used to provoke ‘head-on’, with Mike baldly stating in this Editorial that he is out to shock – ”… we anticipate a certain response to the stories in this issue…” .

Do they really shock, though? Whilst there are undoubtedly aspects that will be surprising and even be actively disliked by some readers, most of the stories cover themes and ideas already touched upon in both New Worlds and SF Impulse in recent months. The Streets of Askelon was published four years ago, and there have been similarly controversial stories since. (Langdon Jones's story I Remember, Anita is also mentioned, which I thought I hated, but actually liked!) In the last few issues there has been a regular trend of stories with a religious element to them, usually not positive, although at least they are often looking at it from a different angle.

Anyway, with the proverbial stall set, let’s get to the stories!


Illustration by James Cawthorn

Behold, The Man, by Mike Moorcock

And to the big story of the month, given a dramatic cover by Keith Roberts. (I know I have been quite dismissive of some of Keith's previous covers, but this one I really like.)

Some may regard the story as deliberately provocative, a sensation-piece written with little purpose other than to gain attention and sales by means of creating outrage. The sort of thing that if it were in the newspapers would generate that “Did you read that?” response, followed by the outcry which then gets others to read it.

Personally, I am much more forgiving. If you’ve read any New Worlds or Impulse over the last year or so, you will find the main religious theme of this story there already.

Time-travelling Karl Glogauer lands in 29AD aiming to find the Nazarene Jesus Christ. He meets John the Baptist, and eventually  Jesus. To Gloghauer’s horror, he finds that the Jesus he encounters is not the one expected from the Scriptures but instead a gibbering imbecile. Reluctantly Karl realises that he must take on the role and the responsibility and become what people in the future expect Jesus to be, even though he knows what will happen to him.

Having berated New Worlds for the clumsy story Look On His Face last month which covered similar ground, it would be easy to do the same here, but for the fact that this is a much superior tale. The character is nuanced, the story engaging and most of all surprisingly respectful towards the idea of religion. Although religion is undoubtedly central to the story, it also looks at loyalty, responsibility and duty, as well as the effect of symbolism and idolism on a mass of people to create a memorable story. I suspect that this is a story that will be remembered for a long time, even outside of the initial outrage. Another 5 out of 5. (That’s two in two months… a worrying habit!)

That Evening Sun Go Down, by Arthur Sellings

And then back to Earth with a bump. Another appearance of a regular author here, though one who’s rarely impressed me. That Evening Sun Go Down begins with something written in the style of Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange before telling us it is another – yes, another post-apocalyptic tale. Space-filler, sadly. 3 out of 5.

Signals, by John Calder

A new name to me. The story of a scientist with a scientific discovery of “interatomic communication”, based around the atom, but instead of telling it like it would be in an Asimov story this keeps veering into talk about sex, which fits with the brief of the magazine but to me feels tacked on, presumably in an attempt to be controversial. Not really sure whether this is meant to be parody, but in places it does feel like it.  2 out of 5.


Illustration by James Cawthorn

A Taste of the Afterlife, by Charles Platt and B. J. Bayley

This is an intriguing one, as a collaboration between two regulars. Platt is now recognised by the magazine as “Designer”, I see. The story is set in the future as Fairweather, our narrator, is given an assignment in some future Cold War – installations have been destroyed, apparently by some sort of interference beam or covert saboteurs, and it is his job to discover the cause. To do this, Fairweather must exist in the Afterlife, which involves killing him in order to travel there. An intriguing idea, but it all boils down to being James Bond-type stuff. It does sound a little like the movie Fantastic Voyage, which I gather was just released in the US – Jason has talked about it already. The novel is reviewed in SF Impulse this month, more of which later. 3 out of 5.

The Atrocity Exhibition, by J. G. Ballard

And on to a big-hitter with the return of J. G. Ballard. The title alone suggests that we’re back in Ballard-territory. Bleak, disparate, odd, memorable, peppered throughout with references to cultural and religious icons – the Madonna, Nagasaki, Elizabeth Taylor, Garbo. Really defies explanation, but this feels more like a return to form after the last couple of lack-lustre efforts. Nearly as good as the Moorcock story for me, although I am starting to feel that what once was startlingly original in style is now a little tired. 4 out of 5.

Another Little Boy, by Brian W. Aldiss

What! Another Aldiss story?

Interestingly, this one has an introduction from Aldiss that explains that it was inspired by a previous story by J. G. Ballard. Whilst I’m never a fan of authors having to explain their story, this one actually is not bad, and gives a whole new meaning to that phrase “Make Love, not War!” as in the future the commercialisation of sex and industrialisation of contraception has created a quite-different society to what we have now. Determined to celebrate the beginning of this enlightened age, the characters decide to re-enact the dropping of an atom bomb over Nagasaki. Sounds barmy – and it is! – but you can never accuse Aldiss of writing the same thing over and over. Silly, but entertaining. 4 out of 5.

Invaded by Love, by Thomas M. Disch

And talking of love, here’s another story involving it. Although he has been around a while, I think that this is my first read of material from another American who like Roger Zelazny is making waves with his New Wave stylings. This one fits Moorcock’s theme this month as it tackles religious belief head on and adds to this a drugs element. In the story an alien preacher arrives on Earth, attempting to sign humans up to his Universal Brotherhood of Love. As part of this the alien offers little yellow pills which eliminate violence and feelings of anger. As more and more people globally take the drug, war is eliminated but it also leads to unintended results such as world-wide famine as humans refuse to slaughter animals as well.

There is some resistance. An attack by the human resistance on the alien’s orbiting spaceship simply leads to the arrival of an alien fleet, which there is now no urge to attack. Eventually the world succumbs to this alien invasion.

This is a surprisingly dark tale, which reminded me a little of Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land, without quite so much of the hectoring, or perhaps Arthur C Clarke’s Childhood’s End. Am sure Philip K Dick is writing similar stuff too, of whom more in a moment. The idea that invasion occurs not through war but by peace is an intriguing one. At times the story is a tad unsubtle, but overall, the story is quite impressive – I expect to read more from this promising writer. 4 out of 5.

Book Reviews

After his skewering of Goddard’s film Alphaville last month, John Brunner returns to criticise novels this month by exploring the work of Philip K Dick, who I’ve mentioned already this month.

As PKD is regarded as one of the New Wave of writers, perhaps unsurprisingly Brunner is also a fan of all of PKD’s work and as a result this month’s analysis is less eviscerating and more complimentary. It is well explained and detailed with an exhaustive list of novels mentioned at the end. Putting my cards on the table, I must say that personally Dick is an author I admire but not love. I generally prefer his short stories to his novels, but this article might even get me to try some of those PKD novels I haven’t tried yet.

James Cawthorn then covers a trilogy of books all dealing with planetary exploration. This includes Hal Clement’s Close to Critical, John Rankine’s Interstellar Two Five and Trivana 1 by R. Cox Abel and Chas. Barren. He also reviews John Carnell’s New Writings in SF 8 and a couple of Compact SF publications (the publisher of this magazine coincidentally), including The Deep Fix by a certain James Colvin.

Lastly, Hilary Bailey reviews lots of items in brief this month. This includes Night of Light by Philip Jose Farmer, Bow Down to Nul by Brian Aldiss, Henry Kuttner’s Fury, Merril and Kornbluth’s Gunner Cade, Clash of Star Kings by Avram Davidson and rather weirdly, a non-fiction book The Family and Marriage in Britain by Ronald Fletcher. Well, I guess that it fits in with the theme of sex in the issue!

There are no Letters pages this month. It’ll be interesting to see how the mail-bag fills after this determinedly controversial issue.

Summing up New Worlds

I said last month that I thought New Worlds was one of the best for a long time. This one is, if anything, better. The Moorcock story is most memorable, but then the rest of the register – Ballard, Aldiss – is not too shabby either, and Disch is particularly impressive if a little unsubtle. The Editor’s insistence on including new names is still admirable, but also means some expectedly lesser efforts, but even there I have read worse. A very good issue overall, even if it is not as controversial as the Editor would like us to believe.

The Second Issue At Hand


Another cover by Keith Roberts

And after all that hullabaloo, let’s go to SF Impulse. Here there’s also controversy, as editor Kyril Bonfiglioli is stepping down. His editorial is short and brief – I’ll show it here.

Must admit, I felt that this was on the cards, although I expected the ending would be a little more graceful. I have said in recent issues how much Kyril seemed to be treading water, and this might explain it. Or perhaps it was the title-change to SF Impulse last month that was the last straw.

Harry Harrison in his new Editor role writes in Critique of the novelisation of the movie Fantastic Voyage, which I’ve already mentioned this month. He’s not a fan of the novelisation, although he is keen not to place blame solely with the “good doctor” Asimov.

The Rig by Chris Boyce

An odd one, which is partly science fiction horror and partly allegorical, I think. A strange lily plant grows in the North Sea, and Jalovec, a scientist, is sent to a nearby oil rig to determine what it actually is. It seems that the plant is telepathic and generates emotional responses in those humans around it. When the plant’s effect spreads to Britain, catastrophe ensues. I did wonder if this was a take on the social drugs movement and “flower power”. At a more visceral level it reads like a psychedelic version of Day of the Triffids.

I was more intrigued by the claim at the top on the banner that Boyce’s last story, George in the June issue of Impulse was popular, as I didn’t like it. But then what do I know? I’m not sure I love this one, either. 3 out of 5.

Martians at Dick’s End by Daphne Castell

Good to see the return of a female regular here, but as the title suggests, the story is a parody. Martians crashland near a remote farm at Dick’s End – cue lots of low-level sniggering – and the narrator tells of how their blacksmith grandfather and his fellow villagers help the Martians fix their ship. In the meantime these white furry aliens acclimatise by speaking with quotes from television, and learn pub games like shove ha’penny.

As I’ve said before, these either work for you or they don’t. For me, they usually don’t, although this one I found gently amusing. I must admit that it does bring a degree of levity after the rather po-faced Boyce story, although it would never happen in The Archers (a British radio soap opera, been running about 15 years now). 3 out of 5.

Timothy, by Keith Roberts

And the return of the ever-so-busy Mr. Roberts, who seems to be keeping the magazine going almost solo at the moment. Many will be pleased at the return of Keith’s Anita, the naughty teen witch of many a previous issue.

Personally, the Anita series has varied in quality for me – usually depending on how much Anita’s Granny is in the story – but they are often entertaining. This latest story tells of Timothy, a scarecrow Anita made last Spring and who she has now decided to bring to life. As expected, chaos ensues when Timothy falls in love with her. It reads rather like a British version of Disney’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice from Fantasia. Light and inoffensive, but might just satisfy the demand for more Anita stories. 3 out of 5.

The Writing Man by M. J. P. Moore

A new name to me here. It is one of those experimental stories that reads as a stream of consciousness until the twist at the end, which I saw coming from a long way away. It’s been done before, perhaps too many times. 2 out of 5.

Audition by Fred Wheeler

A new name. A mercifully short story.

Jodrell Bank receives a communication from space, which it replies to. Other countries then attempt their own responses, which leads to the killer last line. (Not.) More filler. As a brief story it reads more like a joke told in a pub. It is OK but you’ll never remember it once you’ve finished the magazine. 2 out of 5.

Make Room! Make Room! (Part 2 of 3), by Harry Harrison

Last month, I gave the first part of this a 5 out of 5 rating, something I don’t think I’ve ever done before. Admittedly, whilst it is basically a detective story set in a future dystopian setting, I was impressed by the nuanced characters and the descriptions of shabbiness and squalor in a world of overcrowded excess, crime and with a lack of resources.

This time around, Police Detective Andy Rusch is still investigating the death of crime boss “Big Mike” O'Brien. However, his relationship with O'Brien’s mistress Shirl has become complicated to the point where she moves in with Andy and his older friend Sol. The perpetrator of the crime, teenager Billy Chung, leaves the city and escapes to the decrepit Brooklyn Navy Yard where he meets Peter. Peter is another vagrant who is convinced that the world will come to an end at the oncoming millennium, but despite this the two find solace in looking after each other.

The story is still bleak. Much of it is about the situation around Andy and Shirl, which shows us unremitting squalor and decay. Whilst the O'Brien investigation is ongoing, it seems to take a step back here for the story to concentrate on other aspects. None of the characters come out of this well, yet their reasons for being like this in a dog-eat-dog world are clear.

I was interested to see if the story maintained its high score from last month, and I’m pleased to say that mainly because of the vivid imagery it still does. So again, 5 out of 5. We still have the murder to solve in the final part – I am interested to read how this one ends.

Summing up SF Impulse

This is not a bad issue. It could have been Kyril’s attempt to throw in anything left in the slush pile, but under the steering hands of Keith Roberts, it’s not that different to normal. Which raises the question of how long Roberts has been doing this for, with Kyril taking the credit.

In short, it’s another middle-mark issue overall, with some very good (e.g. the Harrison) and some not to my tastes. It’s not a disaster, which it could have been, but it is clear that there’s some filler here. My response is tempered by the fact that I realise how much hard work is going on behind the scenes to get an issue – anything like an issue – out on time.

Summing up overall

With everything going on this month, it perhaps shouldn’t be too much of a surprise for me to suggest that New Worlds is the significant ‘winner’ this month. Like Harrison’s novel for SF Impulse last month, the Moorcock story alone is almost enough to guarantee a win, but to which is also added a Ballard and an Aldiss which I thought were superior fare. More importantly, New Worlds shows a coherence and a quality that SF Impulse seems to lack. It is perhaps not surprising, though. It’ll be interesting to see if future issues of SF Impulse alter much with the change in management.

Until the next…



[June 14, 1966] Aliens, Housewives and Overpopulation: Orbit 1, edited by Damon Knight


by Cora Buhlert

Whale Hunt on the Rhine

Moby Dick on the Rhine
Moby Dick swims past the Duisburg copper smelter.

All of West Germany is currently kept on tenterhooks by Moby Dick. No, I'm not talking about the classic novel by Herman Melville, but about our very own re-enactment thereof on the river Rhine.

On May 18, the skipper of a Rhine barge reported having seen "a white monster" in the polluted waters of the Rhine near Duisburg. The river police initially assumed that the man was drunk, but other sightings were reported as well. The unfortunately named Dr. Wolfgang Gewalt (his surname literally means "violence"), director of the Duisburg Zoo, identified the creature as a beluga whale, which had somehow managed to swim 450 kilometres upstream.

Hunting Moby Dick
Dr. Gewalt and his crew hunt Moby Dick with stun guns and bow and arrow.

Discovering his inner Captain Ahab, Dr. Gewalt decided to capture the white whale and have it transported to his brand-new dolphinarium. However, he was about as successful as his literary counterpart and so Moby Dick, as the whale was nicknamed by the locals, repeatedly eluded the traps laid for him, with the aid of some people who believe that the whale should be free back to swim the ocean and not imprisoned in a too small basin.

Diving bell vessel Carl Straat
The specialist diving bell vessel "Carl Straat" with a tugboat on the Rhine. The "Carl Straat" was built in 1963. My Dad designed the handling gear for the diving bell.

Eluding his would-be captors, Moby Dick even swam as far upstream as the West German capital of Bonn, where he interrupted a parliamentary press conference, most likely to protest the treatment he had suffered at the hands of the West German police as well as the heavy pollution of the Rhine, which turned the pristine white skin of a whale a splotchy grey. However, there is a happy ending, because Moby turned around and made it back to the North Sea unharmed.

Moby Dick in Bonn cartoon
A cartoonist's impression of Moby Dick interrupting the parliamentary press conference, much to the chagrin of Chancellor Ludwig Ehrhard.

All-new Anthology, All-new Stories:

Moby's adventures are enough to keep the entire country at the edge of their seats. But nonetheless, I still found the time to read the new science fiction anthology Orbit 1, edited by Damon Knight, which I picked up from the trusty spinner rack at my local import bookstore. The blurb on the backcover promised nine brand-new stories by the best science fiction authors working today, so how could I resist?

Orbit 1, edited by Damon Knight

"Staras Flonderans" by Kate Wilhelm

Kate Wilhelm is not only one of the best up and coming science fiction authors, she also happens to be married to Orbit editor Damon Knight. That said, Knight wasn't playing favourites here, because Kate Wilhelm's contribution to the anthology is a genuinely good story.

A scout craft with a three person crew, two humans and the alien Staeen, approaches a derelict starship. The lifeboats are gone and the ship was abandoned by her crew in a hurry. However, our three brave explorers have no idea why, since the ship was in perfect working order. Nor is this the first time something like this has happened; other ships have been found abandoned as well.

Kate Wilhelm explores the mystery of the abandoned starship not through the eyes of the two human crewmen, but of the alien Staeen, who is described as looking like an inverted tulip at one point. Staeen is a truly alien creature, who can survive on land, underwater, in deep space and in high radiation environments. He is an empath, several millennia old and humans are ridiculously short-lived to him. In fact, Staeen's people, the Chlaesan, refer to humans as "Flonderans", which means "children" in their language. Staeen's human crewmates, two big, burly spaceman that would be at home in any issue of Analog, clearly have no idea how their comrade views them.

Staeen uses his empathic abilities and realises that the crew abandoned the ship in a fit of irrational panic. But whatever caused that blind panic is still out there, as our three brave explorers are about to find out…

At its heart, this story is a neat mystery in space that would have been at home in Planet Stories or Thrilling Wonder Stories twenty years ago. What sets it apart is Staeen's uniquely alien view of the world as well as Kate Wilhelm's writing skills.

Four stars.

"The Secret Place" by Richard McKenna

I wasn't familiar with the work of Richard McKenna, who passed away two years ago at the way too early age of fifty-one. So "The Secret Place", which was found among his papers after his death, is my first exposure to his work.

First-person narrator Duard Campbell recounts his strange wartime adventures. As a young geology student, Campbell was part of a team that was supposed to track down a uranium mine in the Oregon desert. For in 1931, a boy named Owen Price was found dead with claw marks on his back as well as some gold ore and a piece of uranium oxide in his pocket. When uranium suddenly becomes vitally important with the onset of WWII, the US Army sends a team to locate the source of the uranium oxide. The chief geologist Dr. Lewis believes that this venture is futile, because the area in question is a volcanic high plateau, where uranium does not naturally occur.

When the team departs, only Campbell is left behind. He wants to prove Dr. Lewis wrong and find the uranium vein. So he hires Owen's sister Helen, who can see things no one else can see, as his secretary to pry the secret of the uranium mine out of her. But the game Campbell plays with Helen quickly becomes dangerous for them both.

I enjoyed the vivid descriptions of the Oregon countryside, though I have no idea how accurate they are. The ending is a bit abrupt, though, and the central mystery is not really resolved, probably because McKenna died before he could finish the story.

Three stars.

"How Beautiful With Banners" by James Blish

James Blish needs no introduction to the readers of the Journey.

Dr. Ulla Hillstrøm is a scientist who runs into problems when her living spacesuit merges with a native creature, described as a floating cloak, during a research mission of the Saturn moon of Titan.

Dr. Hillstrøm realises that the cloak is trying to mate with her spacesuit. She notes a second cloak creature and deduces that it might be jealous, so she tries to use the second creature to separate the cloak creature from her spacesuit. However, she is only partly successful, because the separation destroys the spacesuit. The last thing Dr. Ulla Hillstrøm sees before she freezes to death is the mating dance of the cloak creatures.

Beautifully written, but inconsequential. The stereotype of the icy female scientist who never knew love and companionship is overused. Science fiction writers, please go and meet some actual women scientists.

Two stars

"The Disinherited" by Poul Anderson

Poul Anderson is another author who needs no introduction.

The government of an overpopulated future Earth ends the galactic exploration program and recalls scientific personnel and spaceship crews. Understandably, no one is very happy about this.

"The Disinherited" follows two characters. Jacob Kahn is a starship captain and has been for a very long time due to the time dilation effect of travelling at lightspeed. Kahn is also an Israeli Jew, something which should not be unusual, considering how many science fiction writers are Jewish, but which sadly still is. Kahn's first mate is Native American, his chief engineer is from India, the assistant chief engineer from Africa. Anderson presents us a still all too rare future populated by people other than white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, though most of them are still male.

David Thraikill is a scientist whose family has been living on the planet Mithras for three generations now and who has never been to Earth. As a result, Thraikill and the rest of the scientists do not want to leave Mithras, because this is their home now. Kahn tries to persuade them to leave by explaining that the human inhabitants of Mithras cannot maintain a high level of technology in the long run and that there will also be conflicts with the native population of Mithras, a race of peaceful kangaroo-like beings. Because as history shows, this is what always happens when one group of humans comes in contact with another group and colonises their homeland…

Considering how prolific Poul Anderson, it's no surprise that his works can be hit and miss. "The Disinherited" definitely falls on the "hit" side and offers a look at the dark side of colonialism, something our genre rarely explores.

Five stars

"The Loolies Are Here" by Allison Rice

Allison Rice is the only unfamiliar name in Orbit 1. However, the biographic note explains that Allison Rice is a joint penname used by Jane Rice, whose stories have been brightening up the pages of Unknown, Astounding and F&SF for more than twenty years now, and Ruth Allison, a mother of five and new writer.

The first person narrator – we later learn that she shares the name the authors have chosen to publish this story under – is a harried housewife and mother of four, who is dealing with a torrent of bad luck, appliances breaking down, children and pets misbehaving, etc… One day, she finds tiny footprints on the floor and wonders whether the loolies – mischievous goblins whom her sons blame for their own misbehaviour – are not real after all. Eventually, the narrator sees a bonafide loolie in the bathroom during a massive storm. But even though the loolie causes chaos, he does help the narrator get even with her useless husband.

"The Loolies Are Here" is very much a humour piece and the voice of the harried housewife and mother certainly rings true. In many ways, this story reminded me of Shirley Jackson's collection of semi-autobiographical short stories Life Among the Savages. It's a good story, but as a humorous domestic fantasy story, it doesn't really fit into what is otherwise a science fiction collection.

Four stars

Life Among the Savages by Shirley Jackson

"Kangaroo Court" by Virginia Kidd

Virginia Kidd is a well known name in genre circles as a member of the Futurians, poet, magazine publisher, literary agent, former roommate of Judith Merril and former wife of James Blish. Now she can also add short fiction writer to her resume.

A future Earth, where war is a thing of the past and space travel has been outlawed, receives strange messages from outer space, followed by the landing of a spaceship. A military officer named Tulliver Harms puts himself in charge of dealing with the alien Leloc, whom he is convinced must be dangerous – after all, they're aliens. Harms plans to annihilate the Leloc.

The only potential obstacle to this plan is the newly appointed liaison officer Wystan Godwin, who had no idea what is going on due to having spent the past few months on a retreat in monastery in Tibet. Harms does his best to keep Godwin busy and in the dark, but eventually Wystan gets to parley with the kangaroo-like Leloc, who are not just very alien, but who also believe that Earth is their long lost colony. Wystan has to muster all his diplomatic skills to avoid genocide or all-out war.

"Kangaroo Court" is an amusing story about how diplomacy rather than violence wins the day, featuring some truly alien aliens. However, it also goes on far too long and particularly the expositional sections in the middle about kangaroos, marsupials and the impossible nature of the Leloc spacedrive made my eyes glaze over like the gizmospeak in a bad Analog story.

Three stars

"Splice of Life" by Sonya Dorman

Sonya Dorman burst onto the scene a few years ago and has since established herself as one of our most exciting new writers.

"Splice of Life" opens with a young woman – she's only ever addressed as Miss D. – coming to after a car accident, just in time for a doctor to stick a hypodermic into her eyeball. The eye was injured in the accident and Miss D. worries that she may lose it. The doctors and nurses reassure her, but both Miss D. and the reader realise that something is not quite right in this hospital.

A neat tale of medical horror with a ending that packs a punch.

Four stars

"5 Eggs" by Thomas M. Disch

Thomas M. Disch is another newish author, who was one of Cele Goldsmith-Lalli's discoveries back when she was editing Fantastic and Amazing.

The unnamed writer protagonist of "5 Eggs" has been left by his lover Nyctimene on the eve of their engagement party. Gradually, we learn that Nyctimene was not quite human, but some kind of bird alien, as the reference to the figure from Greek mythology suggests. However, Nyctimene has left something behind: a basket of eggs. But leaving eggs lying around the house can be quite dangerous.

This story is well written, but there isn't much of a plot and the final twist is not as shocking as Disch probably thinks it is. The recipe for Caesar salad sounds good, though.

Two stars

Pure Food-Oil ad
If you're planning on making Thomas M. Disch's recipe for Caesar salad, mind the eggs.

"The Deeps" by Keith Roberts

British writer and artist Keith Roberts has been gracing the covers and pages of Science Fantasy and New Writings in SF for several years now, though this is his first US publication, as far as I know.

"The Deeps" starts with the by now familiar dystopian vision of an overpopulated Earth (for another recent take on this theme see Make Room, Make Room! by Harry Harrison, reviewed here by our own Jason Sacks). This time around, the ingenious solution to the overpopulation problem is cities on the ocean floor.

Mary Franklin is a suburban housewife living in one of those undersea cities. One day, her teenaged daughter Jen goes off to a dance and doesn't come home. Mary goes searching for her, wondering whether the children who grow up under the sea are not becoming steadily more fishlike.

"The Deeps" is well written. Roberts captures both Mary's frustration with her husband and her fear for Jen, though I wonder whether a frantic mother searching for her missing child would really spend two pages describing the infrastructure of undersea living. Atmospheric, but not a whole lot of plot and marred by long stretches of exposition.

Three stars

Summary Judgment

The Orbit anthology series is certainly off to a good start. The quality of the stories varies, but they do offer a good overview of the range of science fiction writing today.

Of the nine stories in this anthology, four are written by women. If we count Jane Rice and her collaborator Ruth Allison separately, we have five male and five female authors. Of course, women make up fifty-one percent of the Earth's population, so an anthology with fifty percent male and fifty percent female contributors shouldn't be anything unusual. However, in practice there are still way too many magazine issues and anthologies that don't have a single female contributor, so an anthology where half the authors are women is truly remarkable.

Three and a half stars all in all

Café on the Bremen market square
Enjoying the summer sun with a cup of coffee, a slice of snow mousse cake and a good book on Bremen's market square.

[January 8, 1966] Seems like old times (February 1966 Galaxy)


by Gideon Marcus

Nostalgia

Stop me if you've heard this one before ("Stop!  Stop!") but when I picked up that first issue of Galaxy Science Fiction magazine in October 1950, I was hooked.  I had encountered SF previously, as a kid with Edgar Rice Burroughs, H. G. Wells, and Jules Verne.  I'd devoured L. Frank Baum's works.  And through the 30s and 40s, I leafed through the odd issue of Astounding.  But it wasn't until I read H. L. Gold's mag that SF really seduced me.  Here were mature stories for adults going beyond the "gimmick" story.

In 1954, I became voracious, buying every mag in sight.  Some were worthy, like Fantasy and Science Fiction, Satellite, Beyond and (often) Astounding and Fantastic Universe.  Others were…less than worthy: Amazing, Infinity, Imagination, Super Science, and on and on.  But I read them all.  I was hooked.

Gold left the editorship in 1961, and the esteemed Fred Pohl took over.  The magazine has been in a bit of a holding pattern since the turn of the decade, rarely being outright bad, but rarely evoking the heights of those first few years of publication, when virtually every story was a stunner.

The latest issue is a stunning return to form. 

The Issue at Hand


by Virgil Finlay

Under Old Earth, by Cordwainer Smith

The enigmatic Mr. Smith has been a staple of Galaxy from early days, and I understand he is one of the folks Mr. Pohl regularly visits to obtain new stories.  Under Old Earth is the latest installment in the Instrumentality series, portraying a happy, fatuous humanity atop a slave class of altered beasts and robots. 

In this particular story, Sto-Odin, a dying Lord of the Instrumentality heads to the Gebiet, the vast underworld separate from the laws and enforced happiness of the surface world.  There, he expects to find the vital spark of humanity that can restore the race.  He encounters a self-styled Sun-God who has purloined a piece of the congohelion, a vast structure that regulates the output of stars, to make inhumanly powerful music.  And tending his altar is Santuna, dismayed with what the Sun-God has become, and destined for a great role in the eventual Rediscovery of Man.

As always, it is lyrical and lovely, different from anything else you'll ever read.  Four stars.


by Virgil Finlay

Courting Time, by Tom Purdom

The excellence continues with this marvelous treatment of polygamy in the mid-21st century on the eve of a great world fair: A composer in love with a woman comprising one eighth of an 8-way marriage wishes to become the next spouse in the cluster.  But he has strong competition in the form of a ruthless and irresistable playboy.  What's a lovelorn fellow to do?

Tom happens to be a friend of mine, and here are his notes on the genesis of this tale:

I got the idea several years before I wrote the story, when one of the older women in the Philadelphia Science Fiction Society told me she thought every woman needed four husbands, each one good at a different specialty–making money, romance, companionship, parenting.  I felt that would work for men, too.

Most stories about group marriage that I'd read, it seemed to me, were stories about group sex.  Courting Time is about the sociology of marriage.  It owes something to Morton Hunt's The Natural History of Love, a book about the history of Western ideas about sex and marriage.  Hunt concludes that our modern vision of marriage essentially demands that a two person relationship fulfill all the needs people once satisfied with their relationships with larger groupings like the extended family.  You're supposed to find one person who can be your business partner, sexual partner, romantic partner, parent to your children, and lifelong companion.  No single individual can do a five star job in all those roles.

I really liked the idea of the global world's fair.  The world fair in New York was going on at that time and I asked myself what a world fair might look like in the future.

I called the story "Courting".  I like one word titles.  Fred Pohl changed it to "Courting Time", querying my approval, which has more of a lilt.

Other than Heinlein's The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Courting Time is the only SF story dealing with polygamy I've read in recent history.  It's a very good story, though it could use a little more development with the protagonist's falling in love with each of the spouses.  Tom agrees with my four star assessment.

Read it!

For Your Information: The Wreck of La Lutine, by Willy Ley

160 years ago, the gold ship, La Lutine, was capsized in a storm off the coast of Holland.  Since then, numerous attempts of increasing sophistication have been made to recover the lost bullion, with limited success.  Ley's account of these efforts is fascinating — maybe the Journey should put together a recovery mission of its own!

Four stars.

The Echo of Wrath , by Thomas M. Disch

Little Ilisveta, an eight year old Martian, is bored with her rough frontier life and yearns for something better, something like the Earth-trotting days her grandfather Dmitri and grandmother Sally enjoyed some sixty years prior.  But such a life can never be.

Echo is a relatively unremarkable story until the end, which struck me in the gut with the force of a train.  You've done it again, Mr. Disch.

Four stars.

Where the Changed Ones Go, by Robert Silverberg


by Jack Gaughan

Just last issue, Robert Silverberg gave us the second in a series one might call Blue Fire, a collection of loosely related novellas set in a future where the secular scientific religion of Vorsterianism has achieved currency across the Earth. 

But not across the planets.  The aloof Martians and the arrogant Venusians will have no truck with the Vorsterians.  However, for some reason, the heretical Harmonists have managed to get a foothold on the hostile second planet from the Sun.  So Nicholas Martell, a Vorsterian minister from Earth discovers when he runs across Brother Mondschein (who we met in the last story), who warns Martell that his errand is futile.

Martell, who has undergone a massive physical alteration just to live on Venus, will not be easily deterred — especially as he seems to have found his first potential convert, a young boy with the power of telekinesis.

Silverberg's Venus might as well be a random alien world, so little resemblance does it bear to the actual Venus.  Astronomical quibbles aside, however, it's a fine story.

Four stars.

Eye of an Octopus, by Larry Niven

The first expedition to Mars finds Martians, and they're far more like (and unlike!) humans than they could have imagined.  Is the well they discover for drinking or something else?

A well-drawn little puzzle story.  We've taken to reading Niven stories, when they come out, at bedtime.  Janice appreciated the wealth of detail briefly described and gave it four stars.  Lorelei was less thrilled, giving it a solid three.

I'd split the difference if I could, but it's not a novel, so I can't.  I'd say it's a worthy three star tale.

In the Imagicon, by George H. Smith

What do you give to the man who has everything?  Why, nothing of course.  A whole lot of it. 

And vice versa.

Smith is a fellow who used to write for the lesser mags back in the 50s.  He's been AWOL pretty much since I started the Journey so, until I did some digging, I thought he was a new author rather than a veteran.

Anyway, Imagicon is a pretty obvious tale.  Not bad, just primitive by Galaxy's standards.  I wavered between two and three stars, but just as suspots are pale in comparison to their surroundings despite their great heat, so Imagicon suffers for being in the company of so many good stories.

Two stars.

Mulligan, Come Home!, by Allen Kim Lang

Okay, Imagicon does have the virtue of being next to the only dud story in the issue.  Lang's tale is about a fix-it man dispatched by the government to find the elusive trickster and malcontent Mulligan Mondrian.  Along the way, we get Mondrian's full life history, detailing his start as a two-bit con man and womanizer and onward to his culmination as a larger-than-life, interplanetary con man and womanizer.

Some cute turns of phrase, but the story collapses under the weight of its own attempted cleverness.

Two stars.

The Age of the Pussyfoot (Part 3 of 3), by Frederik Pohl


by Wallace Wood

At last, we come to the thrilling conclusion of The Age of the Pussyfoot, the misadventures of a 20th Century man unfrozen after death in a 26th Century utopia.  When last we left Chuck Forrester, he had not only been fired by his alien employer, he had unwittingly been an accomplice to the alien's escape from Earth.  But when the Sirian left, presumably to return at the head of an invasion, he left the penniless Forrester nearly $100 million.

But profound wealth does little to assuage the guilt of the man out of time, especially when he is abandoned by all his newfound friends and his romantic partner.  Is he the lynchpin to humanity's salvation or its ruin?

A sparkling, farcical story, just serious enough to keep your attention, Pussycat reads like a Sheckley short story at novel length (Pohl succeeds here where Sheckley, himself, usually can't quite make long pieces work).

That said, it's a little too sketchy and silly to merit four stars.  Call it three and a half — worth reading, but probably not good enough to clinch a Galactic Star this year.

Summing Up

What a good issue this was!  3.4 stars is nothing to sneeze at.  In fact, it might well end up being the best mag of the month, though we still have five more titles to review.  If you're a long time Galaxy reader, enjoy this breath of fresh air.  And if you're new to Galaxy, perhaps this issue will tempt you into a subscription, just as that first issue did for me more than fifteen years ago…






[December 24, 1965] Gallimaufry du Saison(The Year's best Science Fiction and Paingod and Other Delusions)


by John Boston

Adventures in Miscellany

If it’s 1965, then it must be time for Judith Merril’s annual anthology from 1964.  Admittedly, it’s pretty late in the year, which likely has to do with Merril’s change of publishers.  After five years with Simon and Schuster, the new volume is from Delacorte Press, an imprint of Dell Publishing, which has published these anthologies in paperback since their inception in the mid-1950s.  But here it is, styled 10th Annual Edition THE YEAR’S BEST SF, in time for the Christmas trade.


by G. Ziel

Over the years these anthologies have become larger.  The growth is mostly in density; the page count has gone up a bit (400 pages this year), but the amount of text per page has grown remarkably from the early Gnome Press volumes. 

The books have also grown much more miscellaneous.  Their contents were initially drawn mostly from the familiar SF magazines, with a few other items from the well-known slick magazines.  No more.  This volume includes a gallimaufry of stories, quasi-stories, satirical essays, and what have you from sources as various as The Socialist Call, motive (sic—official magazine of the Methodist Student Movement), New Directions, and Cosmopolitan.  (No cartoons this year, unlike last year’s book.)

This is all in service of Merril’s editorial philosophy of science fiction, which is that it doesn’t exist—or, at least, that there’s no difference between it and everything else, or at least something else.  (See her soliloquy in the previous volume on what “S” and “F” really stand for, quoted in my previous comment on this series.  The theme is continued here in her between-stories commentary, like a background noise you stop noticing after a while). You may find this view intellectually incoherent, but, like the feller (or Feller) said, by their fruits ye shall know them, and Merril makes a pretty interesting fruit salad.  (Even if I have a bone to pick with parts of it.)

Unfortunately it’s hard to review a salad this big without sorting out its ingredients, which Merril might say defeats her purpose.  Nonetheless, onwards.  The book can only be discussed in layers.

Usual Suspects

The top layer, analytically speaking, is the first-class, or at least pretty good, SF and F from genre sources.  The outstanding items here are J.G. Ballard’s The Terminal Beach from New Worlds and Roger Zelazny’s A Rose for Ecclesiastes from F&SF—and stop right there: Merril’s benign eclecticism is nowhere better illustrated than in the contrast between Ballard, driving avant-garde style and imagery and his preoccupation with psychological “inner space” into the genre’s brain like an ice pick, and Zelazny, rehabilitating the old-fashioned pseudo-other-wordly costume drama of the pulps with high style and intellectual decoration.  Runners-up include Thomas Disch’s chilly Descending from Fantastic, John Brunner’s well-turned gimmick story The Last Lonely Man from New Worlds (the only story also to have appeared in the Wollheim/Carr best of the year volume), Norman Kagan’s audaciously zany The Mathenauts from If, and Kit Reed’s sprightly self-help/morality tale Automatic Tiger from F&SF

Barely making the cut is Mack Reynolds’s Pacifist, also from F&SF, a sharp piece of political didacticism about a pacifist underground that uses decidedly non-pacifist means to fight against warmongering politicians, unfortunately too contrived to have much impact.  Surprisingly, Arthur Porges, perpetrator of the dreadful Ensign Ruyter stories in Amazing, rises briefly from the muck with the affecting Problem Child, from Analog, about a professor of mathematics whose wife died bearing a mentally retarded child; the child proves to be anything but retarded in one significant way.  This one gets “better than expected” credit.  So does Training Talk, by the militantly eccentric David R. Bunch (Fantastic), in which he outdoes himself in grotesque lyricism (“It was one of those days when cheer came out of a rubbery sky in great splotches and globs of half-snow and eased down the windowpanes like breakups of little glaciers.”), complementing his even more grotesque plot.  Edging into this category is The Search, a poem by (Merril says) high school student Bruce Simonds, from F&SF, which is minor but clever, pointed, and readable. 

All right, downhill to the next layer, the less distinguished selections from the SF magazines, ranging from the merely competent or inconsequential to the actively dreary. There are several supposedly humorous trifles.  Fritz Leiber’s Be of Good Cheer, from Galaxy, is an epistolary satire, a letter from a robot at the Bureau of Public Morale to a Senior Citizen (as they are known these days) reassuring her unconvincingly that the absence of humans and prevalence of robots that she observes is nothing to worry about.  Larry Eisenberg’s The Pirokin Effect, from Amazing, is a more slapsticky satire about extraterrestrial signals received in a restaurant kitchen which may or may not be from the Lost Tribes of Israel, now resident on Mars; this one is distinguished from the Leiber story by actually being mildly amusing.  The same is true of Family Portrait by new author Morgan Kent, from Fantastic, a vignette about the mundane domestic life of a family that proves to have unusual talents. 

The same is unfortunately not true of The New Encyclopaedist, from F&SF, by Stephen Becker, a novelist (see last year’s A Covenant with Death) and translator of some repute, with no prior SF credits.  This comprises several satirical encyclopedia entries about events in the near future, but their main purpose seems to be to prove the author’s superior sensibilities, and they’re more tedious than funny.  I’m guessing the New Yorker rejected them.  Czech author Josef Nesvadba’s The Last Secret Weapon of the Third Reich belongs here as much as anywhere—it’s from his collection Vampires Ltd., which is apparently devoted to SF stories.  It’s a frenetic black comedy about a last-ditch Nazi effort to generate a new fighting force with a process for developing embryos to adulthood within seven days of conception; the story is less effective than it should be since . . . gosh . . . Nazis are kind of hard to satirize.

There are also a couple of yokel epics here, which is almost always bad news.  Sonny, by Rick Raphael, from Analog (where else?) is a dreary attempt at humor about a kid from West Virginia whose psionic talents come to light after he is drafted into the Army.  The Man Who Found Proteus, by the always promising but never quite delivering Robert H. Rohrer, Jr., from Fantastic, features a caricatured semi-literate miner encountering a hungry shape-changing monster and coming off no better than you’d expect.

Several other more conventional SF stories are just not very lively.  Richard Wilson’s The Carson Effect, from Worlds of Tomorrow, like much of his work to my taste, is a rather limp account of strange human behavior in what everybody thinks are the last days, but prove not to be, a denouement explained by a gimmick reminiscent of Hawthorne’s Rappaccini’s Daughter.  The Carson of the title is Rachel.  Jack Sharkey’s The Twerlik, from Worlds of Tomorrow, is an alien contact story in which the alien, a planet-encompassing plant, tries to make sense of explorers from Earth landing in a spaceship; it’s an earnest effort (unusually for this author) that doesn’t quite revive a hackneyed theme.  A Miracle Too Many, by Philip H. Smith and Alan E. Nourse, from F&SF, concerns a doctor who wishes he could save all his patients, and suddenly he can, with grim consequences that are all too obvious.  Its problem is not ennui but predictability. 

That’s an awful lot of lackluster for a book with “Best” in the title.  More on that problem later.

Neighboring Provinces

The next stratum consists of fairly straightforward SF/F that Merril has trawled or excavated from the established mainstream magazines in the way of SF/F.  A couple of these are by well-established (or –remembered) genre names.  One of the best in the book is Arthur C. Clarke’s The Shining Ones, from Playboy, about an encounter with the fauna of the sea, rendered with the same dignified enthusiasm as Clarke’s portrayals of human encounters with the Moon and the other planets.  This is a writer who will never lose his sense of wonder, or his discipline in writing about it.  Interestingly, the plot takes off from the notion of powering a city with energy derived from temperature differentials between oceanic depths and the surface.  Maybe somebody should try that sometime.  The other big name is John D. MacDonald, who wrote a lot of quite good SF from 1948 to 1953 but gave it up for crime fiction.  Unfortunately his The Legend of Joe Lee from Cosmopolitan is unimpressive, a lame sort of ghost story about a teen-age hot-rodder whom the cops can’t catch, for reasons revealed at the end. 

The others in this category are all satirical extrapolations of things the authors have seen around them, a standard maneuver in standard SF and a game that anyone can play—though not always well.  The best of the lot is A Living Doll by Robert Wallace, from Harper’s; Wallace is said to be a photographer for Life, and the story to have been inspired by an encounter in a toy store with a doll that spoke to him and nibbled his finger.  The narrator’s sullen and sadistic daughter wants a doll for Christmas, along with some needles and pins and a book on Voodoo.  He discovers that dolls have become more sophisticated than he realized, and purchases one who proves to mix a mean Martini and to discourse knowledgeably about Mexican art—a considerable improvement over his daughter.  The rest follows logically.  Almost as good is Frank Roberts’s It Could Be You, from the Australian Coast to Coast (which seem to be an annual anthology of stories from the previous year, just like this one).  In the future, it posits, the populace will be kept entertained by a televised game: one person in the city is selected to be killed, with a hundred thousand-pound prize to the winner; and clues narrowing down the victim’s identity are given through the day to build suspense (a man; never wears a hat; black hair; blue eyes; etc.).  This is not exactly a new idea to readers of the SF magazines, but it’s sharply written and no longer than it needs to be.  James D. Houston’s Gas Mask, from Nugget, one of many cheap Playboy imitations, is a reasonably well done “if this goes on” piece about future traffic problems and people’s adaptation to them. 

And there are selections from places you wouldn’t think to look, but Merril always casts a wide net.  The satirical motif continues, unfortunately in combinations of facile, arch and ponderous.  Russell Baker’s A Sinister Metamorphosis is apparently one of his regular columns from The New York Times, taking off from the theme that sociologists “thought the machines would gradually become more like people.  Nobody expected people to become more like machines.” James T. Farrell’s A Benefactor of Humanity—the one from the Socialist Call—is about a man who can’t read but loves books; however, he dislikes authors, and devises a machine to replace them.  It’s overlong and not funny.  Hap Cawood’s one-page Synchromocracy, from motive, is a rather undeveloped sketch of government by computer and constant public opinion polling.

Farther Out

From here, things just get weird, for better or worse.  Donald Hall, a well-known poet and former poetry editor of the Paris Review, is present with The Wonderful Dog Suit, from the Carleton Miscellany (literary magazine of Carleton College), about a precocious child who is given a dog suit, and takes to it; the dog becomes rather shaggy by the end.  I suppose this is brilliance taking a day off.  The Red Egg, by Jose Maria Gironella, apparently a well-established Spanish writer, is a jolly tale about a cancer which flees its home on the skin of a laboratory mouse and takes to the air, feeding on industrial smoke and other toxic delicacies, terrorizing the populace while contemplating which human victim to descend upon.  It’s quite entertaining, but the point is elusive; too profound for me, I guess.  This first appeared in a collection titled Journeys to the Improbable, collecting the author’s “psychic experience” over a period of two years. 

Probably the weirdest item here—since I can detect no element of anything resembling S or F even by Merril’s ecumenical standard—is Romain Gary’s Decadence, from Saga (the men’s magazine?  Really?) by way of Gary’s collection Hissing Tales.  A group of mobsters goes to Italy to meet their charismatic leader, who after taking over a union was prosecuted and deported; now he’s eligible to return, but they find he has meanwhile become an acclaimed modernist sculptor with a rather different outlook than they had expected.  M.E. White’s The Power of Positive Thinking, from New Directions, is a first-person story told by a smart, fanatically religious schoolgirl which amounts to a horror story with no trace of fantasy, the horror only suggested, but heightened by the relentless mundanity of the account. 

The book closes with Yachid and Yechida by Isaac Bashevis Singer, from his collection Short Friday.  Singer is among other things the book reviewer for the Jewish Daily Forward, and the story was translated from Yiddish.  It is a theological fantasy about dead souls condemned to Sheol, a/k/a Earth, and their posthumous lives there, and it is absolutely captivating, one of the best things in the book.  This Singer really has something going; if he works at it, he might crack F&SF.

Summing Up

So, what to make of this “best SF” anthology, in which much of the SF/F is just not very interesting and is outshone by some of the loose marbles Merril has found in other yards?  At least part of the problem is her seeming unwillingness to include longer stories, which of course would displace multiple shorter ones and yield a less crowded contents page.  But much of the best SF writing these days is at novella length or close to it; consider Jack Vance’s The Kragen and Roger Zelazny’s The Graveyard Heart, from Fantastic, and Gordon R. Dickson’s Soldier, Ask Not and Wyman Guin’s A Man of the Renaissance, from Galaxy.  Merril would probably be better advised to devote a little more space to substance and less to short trifles.

But still, there’s a lot here—much of it quite good, much of it unexpected, and some of it both.  This anthology series is still in a class by itself.



by Gideon Marcus

Paingod and Other Delusions

Three years ago, Harlan Ellison released his first collection of science fiction stories.  It was a fine collection, representing the era of his writing career before he struck out for Hollywood to become a big-time screenwriter (some of his work not surviving to the small screen unscathed…)

Now he's back with a new collection.  A mix of stories recently written and others excavated from the vault, it offers up a strange combination of mature and callow Ellison, though none of it is unworthy.  Dig it:


by Jack Gaughan

Introduction

After seven stabs at it, Harlan reportedly threw up his hands and decided he wasn't going to write an introduction.  Instead, we get a several page nontroduction that is probably worth the price of the book in and of itself.  I read it aloud to my family while we were waiting to get into a new sushi place in town.  It's excellent, funny, self deprecatory, and illuminating.

Paingod

If God is Love, why does He allow pain to exist?  This moving, brilliant story tries to answer this question.  Nominated for the Galactic Star last year and covered previously by Victoria Silverwolf, there's a reason it leads this book.

Five stars.

"Repent, Harlequin!" said the Ticktockman

In an increasingly time-ordered world, the wildest rebel is he who would gum up the works of society.

I didn't much care for this story when I first reviewed it, finding it a bit overwrought and consciously artistic.  Ellison's introduction, in which he explains his congenital inability to mark time accurately, makes the piece much more understandable.  I'd had trouble relating in part because my time sense is preternaturally perfect (I can tell you what time it is even after being asleep for hours).  So, with the story now in context, I can understand the enthusiasm with which it's been received.

Four stars.

The Crackpots

An exploration of a planet of misfits, who it turns out are the real movers and shakers of the galactic federation.

Based on the odd characters Ellison observed when manning an adult book stand on 42nd Street, this is an older piece, and it shows.  About ten pages too long and a little obtuse, but even young, imperfect Ellison is usually worth reading.

Three stars.

Bright Eyes

The former masters of the Earth have been diminished by war to just one representative and his oversized rodent sidekick.  Like a salmon swimming upstream, he returns to the blasted surface to witness the destruction one last time.

Inspired by a piece of art (that later accompanied the story—you can see it at Victoria's original review—it's a vivid piece.

Four stars.

The Discarded

A plague turns a number of humans into "monsters", who are exiled to an orbiting colony.  When a new outbreak occurs, suddenly the discarded find themselves valued as the potential source of a cure.  But will normal humans ever really tolerate the deviant?

I will go out on a limb here — this is my favorite story of the collection, one I enjoyed when I first read it in the 1959 issue of Fantastic.  It's a much more effective "misfit" piece than the previous story.

Five stars.

Wanted in Surgery

Automated surgeons displace their human counterparts.  Are they truly infallible?  And is it ethical to find fault in them?

This piece doesn't work on a lot of levels, plausibility-wise and narratively, as even Ellison concedes.  I suppose it's here to fill space and to make sure it got in some collection.

Two stars.

Deeper than the Darkness

Another misfit, this time about a pyrokinetic recruited to destroy the star of an enemy race.  Fools be they who expect a hated rebel to suddenly be overcome with patriotism…

This is another flawed, early piece that shows Ellison's potential without realizing it.

Three stars.

Summing Up

Two fives, two fours, two threes, and a two, not to mention a great Intro.  If that's not worth four bits, I'm not sure what is.  Get it!






[October 18, 1965] Turn, Turn, Turn (November 1965 Fantasy & Science Fiction)


by Gideon Marcus

The Winds of Change

History is divided into eras: The Stone Age, The Middle Ages, The Renaissance.  There are Golden Ages and Dark Ages.  The Jazz Age.  The Gilded Age.  One is never quite sure of a period's exact delineations, the precise moments of its beginning or end, until the next one is well on its way.  It is possible to tell when one is in an age, however, and also to feel keenly the wistful uncertain sense one gets in the doldrums between epochs.  Who can't have felt that way in the year succeeding President Kennedy's assassination, when his civil rights program, American involvement in Indochina, even the character of government in general hung in the balance.  And who can doubt that, for better or worse, the Johnson era has clearly begun?

I've lived through two sea changes in music.  The first was in 1954, when the overripe swing and schmaltz on the radio was overrun with a wave of rock and roll, particularly if you tuned into the Black stations (luckily, a radio tuner cannot easily be segregated).  By 1963, the winds of change had become muddled.  With folk, pop, motown, surf, and country vying for our eardrums, it was quite impossible to know then where the next two years would take us.  Then the Beatles spearheaded the biggest British invasion since 1812, and a new age was upon us.

Science fiction has its ages, too.  When I got into SF in a big way, the genre was clearly plumb in the middle of one.  It was 1954, four years after Galaxy's editor, Horace Gold, had thrown the gauntlet down at the feet of puerile pulp SF, five years after the new Fantasy and Science Fiction established a literary benchmark for the genre that has yet to be exceeded.  Science fiction primarily came in digest sized magazines, and the market was aflood with them.  Quality ranged from the penny-a-word mags which were little above the pulps that preceded them to stellar new fiction that burst beyond our solar system and ranged deep into our pysches.

As the 60s dawned, the genre had become anemic.  Almost all of the monthly digests had gone out of print.  The old stalwart, Astounding, had changed its name to Analog, but is fiction remained stolidly fixed in an older mode.  Gold retired from Galaxy and Fred Pohl struggled to keep it and its sister mags fresh as its reliable stable of authors left for greener (as in the color of money) pastures.  F&SF's helm passed on to Avram Davidson, whose whimsical style did the magazine few favors.

But the genre seems to have found its feet and is stomping off in a new direction.  Propelled by a "New Wave," again largely based in Britain, the science fiction I've been reading these days no longer feels like retreads of familiar stories.  They have the stamp of a modern era, an indisputable sense of 1960s.  And no single issue of a single magazine has represented this renaissance in SF better than the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

A Fresh Breeze


by Gray Morrow (illustrating the many perils of … And Call Me Conrad (Part 2 of 2)

Come to Venus Melancholy, by Thomas M. Disch

Disch is one of the flagbearers of the new era.  In just three years, this new author has produced more than 20 stories, some of them quite brilliant.  In this one (set on an obviously pre-Mariner Venus), a lonely cyborg staffer of a trading post literally holds you captive while she tells the sad story of how she lost her love.

By turns horrifying and heartbreaking, it's a moving piece.  Four stars.

The Peacock King, by Larry McCombs and Ted White

Less effective though more experimental is this piece on the first successful hyperdrive jaunt.  After four failures, it is determined that the transition to hyperspace bears similarities to drug-induced schizophrenia.  One couple, so in love as to practically share a consciousness, is fed a regimen of psychoactives to prepare them for the trip.

Somewhat roughly written, and perhaps too short, it is nevertheless a fascinatingly "now" story delving into new territory.

Three stars.

Insect Attractant, by Theodore L. Thomas

This usually disappointing column of sf-story ideas masquerading as short science articles starts promisingly, discussing how insect pests could be eradicated through synthesis of female sex pheromones, which could then be sprayed to disrupt their breeding cycles.  A fine alternative to DDT.

But then he goes on to suggest that human females have similar pheromones, and that distillation and application of same could be used by marriage counselors, as if love is purely a matter of chemical compatibility. Perhaps the author has never been in love, let alone gotten married.  Of course, Mr. Thomas may have meant the piece in jest, though I also resented its casually sexist overtones.  Either way, it's not worth the page it occupies.

Two stars — and let's please 86 this column, Mr. Ferman?

… And Call Me Conrad (Part 2 of 2), by Roger Zelazny

When last we left Konstantin Karaghiosis, Minister for Cultural Sites on an atomics-devastated Earth, he was giving a tour of Greece to a blue-skinned Vegan, name of Cort Vishtigo, and his human entourage.  Ostensibly, the alien was on Earth to write a travelogue.  His true purpose is unknown, but the members of the Radpol movement believe Vishtigo's trip is a real estate survey, prelude to the Vegans buying up the planet to plunder.  An assassination attempt is in the offing, and Karaghiosis (virtually immortal and currently going by the name of Conrad) believes that the alien's bodyguard, Hassan, is the likely killer. 

That's the context, but the tale Zelazny weaves reads like a modern interpretation of mythology, with Conrad's party encountering a host of radiation mutated beasts, humans, and everything in-between.  Conrad is a tale of survival, of derring do, of proving worth.  It's also a pretty good mystery with a satisfying, if a touch too pat, ending.

At first, I was leery of Zelazny's style, a first person macho that threatens to become precious.  But there's enough self-deprecatory humor to make it work, and I found the pages flying.  There's enough action to keep it moving, enough depth to keep you thinking.

Four stars for this segment, and the novel as a whole is elevated to this rank as well.

El Numero Uno, by Sasha Gilien

It used to be that Death attended to matters personally.  Now, the business has boomed, and he requires field agents armed with legal contracts instead of scythes.  This particular case involves a harried operative on the sports beat and a particularly recalcitrant matador scheduled for expiration.

Good stuff in the style of Ron Goulart.  Four stars.

Squ-u-u-ush!, by Isaac Asimov

Having previously discussed the shortest measure of time, the largest measures of dimension, the hottest heat, and the coldest cold, the Good Doctor now explores the densest densities, starting with ordinary matter and proceeding the greatest crushes in the universe: the interior of giant stars.

Cutting edge stuff, and it's the first time I learned of neutronium, a state of matter even more compressed than that found inside a white dwarf.

Four stars.

A Few Kindred Spirits, by John Christopher

Last up, the much heralded author of No Blade of Grass offers up a tale combining a queer (in both senses of the word) group of dogs, the concept of reincarnation, and the pursuit of literary laurels.  A character study cum literal shaggy dog story, it's perhaps the most conventional piece of the issue — save for the rather daring (and refreshingly uncondemned) discussion of alternate sexual preferences.

Four stars.

The Sound of Shoes Dropping

It is clear that, after a long many-tacked jaunt in trackless seas, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has set a bold new course.  I have high hopes and more than a little suspicion that this New Wave era has many more exciting years left to it.

After quite a few lean years, I'm finally getting my dessert again!






[September 16, 1965] Blessed Are The Peacemakers (November 1965 Worlds of Tomorrow)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Ain't Gonna Study War No More

As my esteemed colleague David Levinson recently noted, war is currently raging, as it so often does, in various places around the globe. Fortunately, voices are beginning to be raised against this lamentably common human evil.


Benjamin Spock, the famous baby doctor, leads a group of folks protesting the conflict in Vietnam on a march to the United Nations in April of this year.

Whether these peace-loving people will have any effect on the escalating presence of American forces in Southeast Asia remains to be seen. Meanwhile, we can turn to the pages of the latest issue of Worlds of Tomorrow for a fictional look at an unusual way to change war into peace.

They Shall Beat Their Swords Into Plowshares


The cover reproduces, in shrunken and edited form, various illustrations from the pen of Virgil Finlay, subject of an article within the magazine. I recognize the one in the middle, showing the face of a ape-man, as coming from the January 1965 issue. Maybe some of you clever readers can tell me the sources of the others.

Project Plowshare (Part One of Two), by Philip K. Dick


Illustrations by Gray Morrow. I don't know if that artist also came up with the rather eccentric, pseudo-archaic introductory paragraph shown here. Maybe it's the work of the author, or possibly editor Frederik Pohl. In any case, it's very odd, not really in keeping with the mood of the novel.

The time is the early twenty-first century. There are references to space travel within the solar system, but that's way in the background. We have the usual flying cars and such that we're used to in tales of the fairly near future.


Like I said, flying cars. Also, people wear capes and funny-looking hats.

Our main character — I can't really call him the hero — is one Lars Powderdry. I assume his peculiar name is an allusion to the phrase keep your powder dry, attributed to Oliver Cromwell. The intent must be ironic, as Lars does the exact opposite of getting ready for battle (the literal meaning) and is not otherwise prepared for future events (the metaphoric meaning.)

That requires some explanation. You see, Lars has a most peculiar job. He's a weapons fashion designer. This is even weirder than it sounds. It involves going into a trance, with the aid of mind-altering drugs, in order to enhance his natural psychic abilities. While in this state, he perceives images of complex designs for very strange weapons. These are passed along to military folks, who in turn give them to manufacturers.

Why, then, do I say that Lars is not keeping his powder dry? That's because the so-called weapons are nothing of the kind. The elites make the ordinary folks think they are, but in reality the designs are used to make unusual consumer products, generally of a trivial, frivolous nature.


Here's an example, taken from a sidebar in the magazine. Again, I don't know if this is the work of the author or the editor.

In order to fool the public, the manufacturers produce faked films showing the phony weapons in action. This situation came about because of a secret agreement between the two sides in the Cold War. The ignorant masses believe their governments are ready to attack the other side, while their rulers avoid the possibility of a real, destructive war.


An example of the deception in action. The zombie-like guys, supposedly criminals subjected to the mind-destroying guns shown here, are really robots.

Lars has a counterpart on the other side, a woman named Lilo Topchev. Although he doesn't know anything about her, having only seen a photograph so blurry that it doesn't reveal anything at all, he feels an unexplained attraction to her. (The author doesn't say, but maybe this has something to do with their extrasensory powers.)

There's another woman in his life as well. Maren Faine runs the Paris office of his weapons fashion house. She's also his mistress. They annoy each other much of the time, but there seems to be genuine affection between the two. Their relationship has a touch of sadomasochism to it. Maren enjoys mocking her lover, who is well aware that he's not as smart as she is.


Maren Faine. The artist nicely captures her personality. Intelligent, capable, self-assured, cynical, and maybe a little bit cruel.

While visiting her in Paris, Lars finds a device made from one of the ersatz weapons he dreams up in his trance states. The gizmo is a sphere that answers questions. For most people, it's just a toy, sort of like a super-fancy version of those Magic 8 Ball things most of us have fooled around with.


Did I have one of these things? Reply hazy, try again later.

Lars treats the sphere more seriously, asking it about himself. He gets some uncomfortable answers, discovering that his reservations about the way he's helping the elite deceive the public aren't really a matter of ethics, but due to his own fears of losing his psychic powers.


Lars and the mechanical oracle.

As if that were not enough of a painful look into his soul, Maren is a bit psychic herself, able to detect her lover's subconscious emotions. She knows about his obsession with Lilo, for example, explaining it in Freudian terms.

Things get complicated when satellites appear in orbit, not launched by either side. Robots sent to investigate the objects are destroyed. The assumption is that they are the work of hostile aliens. Faced with the possibility of an attack by extraterrestrials, the elite bring Lars and Lilo together in Iceland. Their mission is clear. Work together, using their psychic abilities to come up with a design for a real weapon, or face the consequences.


An agent for the other side shows Lars what the consequences will be.

There's lots of other stuff I haven't mentioned. In particular, an important subplot involves an unpleasant fellow named Surley G. Febbs, who is drafted to become one of the six average citizens who work with the military, dealing with the designs envisioned by Lars. It's not yet clear what part he'll play in the plot, but I suspect it will be a vital one.

Although not a comedy, there's a strong satiric edge to this novel. Both sides in the bloodless Cold War engage the services of the same private espionage agency, which gives them just enough information to keep them paying for more.

The many characters are complex and varied, with flaws and quirks that make them seem real. (A notable exception: There's one minor character whose only function seems to be to have the author describe her breasts.) I'm definitely interested enough to wonder what's going to happen two months from now.

Four stars.

Me, Myself, and Us, by Michael Girdansky

This nonfiction article deals with the connections between the two halves of the brain, and what happens when they are cut. The author goes on to describe a highly speculative way in which to give someone two separate personalities in one body, making reference to the well-known story Beyond Bedlam by Wyman Guin. The suggestion is that such a person would be the perfect spy.


Cover art by Emsh.

Although there's some interesting information here, I found it distressing to read. Not only is the suggested creation of a human being with two minds disturbing, but the author describes real surgical experiments on animals that are horrifying. Maybe that's only my squeamishness, but I wish he had just talked about those unfortunate people who have had the link between the hemispheres of their brains severed.

Two stars.

Last of a Noble Breed, by Mack Reynolds


Illustrations by Normal Nodel.

We begin in the city of Estoril, Portugal, a luxurious resort community. A couple married for only six months is there for business as well as pleasure. The husband, a nuclear engineer, is trying to win a position by meeting with various members of the European upper class.

In this future world, being an aristocrat is vital to one's success. Annoyed by the snobs and a little drunk, the man half-jokingly announces that his wife's grandmother was the hereditary Sachem of the Cherokees, which is true enough. This leads to a worldwide movement to have the United States government restore tribal lands to her people, even though the woman is only one-quarter Cherokee, at most. (Her grandmother, whom she met exactly once, might not have been one hundred percent Cherokee.)


Uncle Sam faces a problem. I'm not sure what that sign is supposed to say. Unfair to what? Queens? That doesn't make sense, as a Sachem is not at all a monarch.

This isn't the most plausible premise in the world, even for a comedy. There are some enjoyable bits of satire, and the author provides some accurate information about the Cherokee people, as far as I can tell. But the lighthearted mood doesn't match well with the truly tragic history of the Cherokees. The husband has a habit of calling his wife a squaw, which annoys me as much as it does her.

Two stars.

The Sightseers, by Thomas M. Disch

Rich people have themselves placed in suspended animation for thousands of years at a time, emerging to enjoy a lavish lifestyle for a while, then jumping back inside their time capsule. Oddly, things never seem to change. These time tourists stick to the fabulous hotels and restaurants that cater to them, which remain unaltered over millennia.

The only other people they encounter are the Nubians who serve their every whim. The suspension device breaks down, and a couple of the tourists, more curious than their much older consorts, investigate the world outside their sumptuous lodgings.

You'll probably predict the true nature of the Nubians, and why vast amounts of time appear to have no effect on the world. Although there are no surprises, the story is decently written. Disch has a knack for this kind of sardonic tale.

Three stars.

Virgil Finlay, Dean of Science Fiction Artists, by Sam Moskowitz

Here's a detailed biography and account of the career of a great talent. I don't know where the author dug up all of this information, but you'll learn a heck of a lot about the artist's life and work. There's only one problem.

No illustrations!

I know there are probably legal and budgetary reasons why this article doesn't include any examples of Finlay's drawings, but it's really frustrating to read about his artwork and not see it. In particular, Finlay's illustration for Robert Bloch's story The Faceless Gods, from the May 1936 issue of Weird Tales, is talked about quite a bit. We're told that readers were excited by it, and that H. P Lovecraft even wrote a poem about it. At least we get half of the poem, but we have no clue what the illustration looked like.

To save you from the same agony I underwent, I dug deep into piles of moldering old pulps and pulled out the drawing, as well as the complete poem. You're welcome.

Two stars.

Worldmaster, by Keith Laumer


Illustrations by John Giunta.

The narrator is the sole survivor of a huge space battle. Both sides were completely destroyed. It turns out that this was deliberate on the part of the admiral who directed his side of the battle. He held back his gigantic flagship, which would have won a victory without the loss of the other vessels in his fleet.

His plan is to return to Earth in command of the only remaining warship, and thus take control of the planet. (Apparently this takes place at a time when the Cold War has heated up, but only in space. We're told that planetary forces are of little importance.)


And there are flying cars.

He offers the narrator the opportunity to join him, but our hero refuses. A couple of goons try to kill him, but he overpowers them and manages to get back to Earth through trickery. What follows is a series of chases and fight scenes, as the narrator tries to stop the admiral's fiendish plan.


And there's a big fire.

Typical for the author in his action/adventure mode, this story moves at a breakneck pace, and features a protagonist who overcomes all obstacles with wits, fists, and not a little luck. It's an efficient example of that sort of thing.

Three stars.

Mother, Is the Battle Over?

We started off with peace disguised as war, and wound up with the aftermath of war. Was it worth fighting for? Well, Philip K. Dick's novel-in-progress definitely piques my interest, although I suspect it will not appeal to all tastes. The rest of the issue is something of a disappointment, like a hasty retreat after an inconclusive skirmish. At least the only casualties of the conflicts inside these pages are imaginary ones. There are far too many in the real world. I wish you all peace.


The design scrawled on this guitar case, spotted on the campus of the University of California at Berkeley this year, was created by British pacifist Gerald Holtom, as a symbol for the nuclear disarmament movement. It has since shown up a lot of places, as a sign for peace in general. I like it.