Showing posts with label Robert Silverberg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Silverberg. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 31, 2024

SSW: Fred Chappell's 3 (earliest published?) short stories, in Robert Silverberg's SPACESHIP, April 1952, April and October 1953: Short Story Wednesday

Fred Chappell (born 28 May 1936/died 4 January 2024) and Robert Silverberg (born 15 January 1935) were teenaged fantastic-fiction fans in 1952, but were already showing some promise of the kind of writers (and editors) they would soon and continue to become...both had discovered the fiction magazines, among other reading, that would help shape a notable part of both their careers, and were involved in the (somewhat!) organized fantasy/sf/horror-fiction-fandom culture of the late '40s and early '50s...so much so that three issues of young New Yorker Silverberg's fanzine (or amateur magazine meant for other fans and any other interested parties) Spaceship (first published by Silverberg in 1949) would each offer one of three vignettes from young Canton, North Carolina resident Fred Chappell, in Starship's 4/52, 4/53 and 10/53 issues. Prof. Shirley Bailey Shurbutt, in the online "Kunstlerroman as Metafiction: The Poetry and Prose of Fred Chappell and the Art of Storytelling" misunderstands a line (she conflates professional fiction magazines with amateur fanzines) in John Lang's Understanding Fred Chappell in which Lang notes Chappell's statement that he had published two early stories under pseudonyms that Chappell insisted he would not divulge, and also notes that Chappell had two (rather than three) short stories in Silverberg's fanzine (almost correct, though under the byline "Fred Chappell") and Harlan Ellison's fanzine Dimensions (apparently untrue, but a closer look at Dimensions issues here will come soon)...if Chappell also had two early, pseudonymous stories in non-amateur magazines such as Weird Tales or the other sf and fantasy magazines of the early '50s, his attempts to keep them hidden have (as far as I know) succeeded, so far. 


Chappell makes the claim about two hidden stories himself (with implication that they are to professional magazines) in the 2022 documentary Fred Chappell: I Am One of You Forever (which can be seen here, and should be--despite the documentarians choosing, when running a slideshow of fantasy and sf magazine covers over Chappell's soundtrack description of his first publications, throw in an issue of a monster-movie magazine, for no obvious reason other than their confusion, among the fiction magazines). Chappell's sister recalls that Fred first attended a convention, apparently the 1953 Philcon in Philadelphia (which she refers to as a national writers' conference, which is understandable, but not quite correct--so much as a convention of writers, editors, fans in the social sense [the fannish subculture, including those who published fanzines] and fans of the specific writers, et al.), the WorldCon for that year, when he was 14 years old, which Bob Silverberg (in correspondence) suspects is a memory-slip on her part, as Silverberg recalls meeting Fred for the first time face-to-face at the '53 convention, when Chappell would've been 17yo.


The three Chappell stories in Spaceship are juvenilia, but (unsurprisingly) relatively deft fiction for a promising teen writer. They are worth reading, certainly for any fan or would-be scholar of Chappell's work.


"The New Frontier", in Spaceship #17 (1952) (which can be read here, and features contributions by other notable writers and fans as well--not least western and fantastica writer and folk-music critic and magazine editor/publisher Ms. Lee Hoffman), is a bit of a psychodrama, as the widow of an astronaut will find herself triggered into fugue states of communication with her dead husband.

"The Tin Can", in Spaceship #21 (1953) is young Chappell in a somewhat comic mood, albeit also exploiting adolescent insecurities as they persist with his protagonist, who acutely feels his lack of sophistication and self-worth in the company of his fellow astronauts...even after he discovers what looks like an enormous tin can through one of their spacecraft's viewports. A bit of an anticipation of Pop Art here, too. The online reproduction of this story features some rather odd scanning, in (I suspect) an attempt to not damage the fanzine issue too badly, but it's legible. This might also be the least assured of the three Chappell stories in Silverberg's fanzine.

"Brother", in Spaceship #23 (1953) is a slightly more straightforward  story of brothers' rivalry (in a sense), with the middle brother of three boys no little vexed by his elder brother's consistent recounting of the rigors of the elder's life as an astronaut, to the rapt attention of their parents and the youngest brother. Middle brother is both jealous and rather less invested in and actively questioning the glamor of the experience. (Though it had begun earlier, the 1950s were a good period inside and outside the sf community for considerations of how there might not be so very much glory in space exploration, for a number of reasons, most of them inherent in humanity.) 

If these were the stories Chappell would rather not be seen, well, they are both promising efforts by a writer in his mid-teens, and are short enough as well as deft enough to make reading through the typewriter-layout of the fanzine issues worth the look (and enlarging the image on your computer, if necessary) for more than simply historical purposes. 

Thanks to Robert Silverberg, Gordon Van Gelder and Rodrigo Baeza for drawing attention to these early Chappell publications.

For more of today's Short Story Wednesday items, please see Patti Abbott's blog.

Saturday, December 31, 2016

A small revelation as this bad year draws to a close...

My previous Friday Books post is a bit of an expansion of an older one, dealing as it does with a vitally important book my mother bought for me, as the most desired part of my membership quartet in the Doubleday Book Club in 1975...in reacting just now to Matt Paust's review of a book-length interview with the writer and editor Robert Silverberg, the degree to which Silverberg's books, most but not all as part of my father's household collection (and one from his step-father as a gift to me) were key in my early science-fiction reading...to wit: 

I haven't ever read his YA novel work, but...his YA-oriented anthology Voyagers in Time was among the first if not the first of my father's paperback anthologies of sf I read (along with introducing me, of course, to the work of Wilma Shore); his YA sf anthology Beyond Control the first I borrowed from a public library; his edited 
volume The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, V. 1 was the most impressive of my father's SF Book Club volumes in Doubleday's book-club hardcover format I went through, Silverberg's anthology of humorous sf Infinite Jests a fascinating slightly later remaindered hardcover pickup by my father, and a paperback of the novel Hawksbill Station the first adult sf novel I read (or, at least, the first not a previous-century classic by Wells, Twain or Bellamy), a gift from my (coincidentally functionally illiterate) step-grandfather. I'm just realizing how much Silverberg was a silver thread through my early sf reading...his was also one of the first, if not the first, sf author interviews I read, in an issue of Vertex Science Fiction magazine my father had also brought home (my brother took scissors to its front cover)...as already a crime-fiction reader at the time (see the Hitchcock Presents: review), his somewhat dismissive attitude toward why young readers weren't drawn to crime fiction as much as speculative fiction didn't sit too well with me. Odd to finally put this all together this at this late hour.

And thanks to all the readers of this blog, as this has been most widely-read year of the enterprise by some distance, apparently...it received its millionth hit this year, and its busiest month so far in this December now ending, after several other record months. I hope someone's enjoying what they see.

And here's a photograph of my brother and our parents, taken by me quite probably in 1977, not too long after most of the "Hitchcock" and Silverberg firsts noted above and previously, thanks to my mother, whom we lost altogether this year, and my father, like her only in a slightly different way stricken with dementia and doing his best, as she did hers, to cope with it.  My brother, particularly, and sister-in-law have been doing very good work in trying to help them, as they live nearby my father's place, now. Thanks to them, and to such great friends of mine as Keiko Hassler (and her lovely family), Laura Nakatsuka, and of course, Alice Chang, There are others, also undeserved.























































Saturday, April 2, 2016

Magazine issue review: SCIENCE FICTION STORIES, May 1959

from the FictionMags list, 6 January 2004:

(THE ORIGINAL) SCIENCE FICTION STORIES, May 1959, V. 10 #2. 10 
issues/year (monthly without April or June issues), digest. 132pp 
including covers; 35c ($3/yr). Robert A. W. Lowndes, editor; 
published by Columbia Publications.

Cover features two interior illustrations by Ed Emshwiller and what 
looks like a spot illo of a rocket, uncredited. Cover is in three 
colors, white, purple, and yellow. Readers are asked within if they 
like this new (and presumably economical) sort of cover.

6 * Robert Silverberg * There's No Place Like Space * ss (illus. 
Wallace Wood)(cover has it with exclamation point; title on text, in 
contents and in running heads do not)
24 * Basil Wells * Utility Girl * ss (illus. Ed Emshwiller)
42 * Kate Wilhelm * Android, Kill for Me! * ss (illus. Ed Emshwiller)
49 * Kit Reed * Here, Kitty Kitty * ss
57 * A. L. Caramine * Weapon Master * ss
63 * (Silverberg as) Calvin M. Knox * Readin' and Writhin' * book reviews:
Algis Budrys MAN OF EARTH (Ballantine)
Donald Wollheim, ed MEN ON THE MOON/Murray Leinster CITY ON 
THE MOON (Ace)
C. L. Moore DOOMSDAY MORNING (Doubleday)
Lester del Rey ROBOTS AND CHANGELINGS (Ballantine)
Wilmar H. Shiras CHILDREN OF THE ATOM (Avon)
Leo Margulies, ed. THREE TIMES INFINITY (Fawcett Gold Medal)
69 * Ward Moore and Robert Bradford * CADUCEUS WILD, Conclusion of 
Four Parts * sr (illus. Uncredited, probably reprinted from earlier 
issue)
117 * R. A. W. Lowndes and others * The Last Word and the Reckoning 
* combined editorial, reader poll, and letter column, including 
letters from:
118 * F. M. Busby
119 * Murray King
121 * Alma Hill
124 * J. Martin Graetsz

The three-color cover, with three small illustrations not 
reproducing all that well under those circumstances, probably didn't 
help sales; clearly one gets the sense that Lowndes was being 
instructed not only to economize but to WW Scott-up his magazines, 
at this point..."Eight Crewmen and One UTILITY GIRL," the cover 
teases, and one doubts that "Android, Kill for Me!" was KW's first 
choice of title. (I'll also remind the assembled of James Blish's 
little poke at the magazine's title, labelling SFS as if it was a 
neighborhood bar...not just McGinty's, but the Original McGinty's.)

"There's No Place Like Space" (which sounds like it should be the 
label on an early acetate by the Sun Ra Arkestra) is a smooth, minor 
effort with a reasonably deft handling of the breast-fetish would-be 
eroticism of its story of the colony-planet technician forced by 
those darn bureaucrats into taking a vacation in NYC. Much as Knox 
will later in the issue (justly) complain about MAN OF EARTH, this 
could pretty easily be rewritten to describe the wearying effect of 
NYC's crowding and groupthink in the 1950s as much as the 2650s 
(when $7500--whose dollars not quite specified--is a fine wage), and 
how much more fine a house in Woodstock is. Wood's illustrations 
are very recognizably Woodish, and cartoonishly handsome for it (one 
may make obvious puns); the erotism of this late issue of the 
magazine definitely suggests to me the influence of both MANHUNT and 
VENTURE, going beyond even the somewhat more submerged yearning of 
BEYOND and the other '50s magazines.

"Utility Girl" (Irish ballad, or neo-retro recording by the Roches, 
this one) betrays rather more debilitatingly hidebound thought, or 
lack of it ("It was too bad [Utility Girl] Ellson was a woman. A man 
could be groomed to take [first mate] Alpergen's place. [...] But a 
woman--no!"). However, I like the phrase, "the needle gun was 
sewing" a lot. Wells, to judge by his ISFDb entries, contributed 
most often in the '40s to PLANET and in the '60s to Pohl's magazines 
(and to IF when not the Lowndes magazines in the '50s), and as late 
as the early '90s to SPACE AND TIME. Emsh's illo is appropriately frantic, if not quite representative.

"Bored Faculty Wife with Android" (as might've been Wilhelm's 
working title for this near-vignette) is an early example of KW 
turning women's-magazine-fiction tropes to her own purposes, if only 
just so; a biter-bit plot out of every other contemporaneous episode 
of ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS and every issue of either MANHUNT or AHMM, to say nothing of the lesser CF magazines then, and some 
nicely turned phrases...and the creepy fun of the lustful robot, 
made slightly more suburban (and telegraphed by Emsh's utterly 
appropriate illustration, well-rendered and the Kind Men Like). A 
bit of genuine melancholy seeps through in that the protag is a 
writer caught in a loveless marriage, I gather not a completely 
alien situation to the author at the time.

The Reed story is cute, almost too cute, and not as redeemed as are 
most of her later humorous stories by what could be called 
Bradburyan detail (and usually less romantic than RB), and it posits 
that no one was getting their cats fixed in 1959. True, that? Fun 
enough.

A. L. Caramine...I knew I'd come across that by-line before, and 
ISFDb reinformed me that it was on a guest editorial in one of Barry's issues of FANTASTIC, which leads me to suspect [incorrectly, as it turned out] that this one is also Robert Silverberg  sorry if no, Mr. S.  A twist ending hard not to see coming, although a point for giving the swindler a slightly more amusingly corrupt reason than usual, even if also a point or two off for his relentless "g"-dropping from gerunds and the utter foolishness of his marks.

I have not yet read the synopsis and conclusion of the serial, 


though it seems to be in the GALAXY tradition, this time with MDs in 
charge of society and just waiting to fall on their own scalpels.  
Apparently, this one may not've gotten a US book publication, at 
least, till a 1978 Pinnacle paperback, so clearly this was not a 
robust moneymaker for Moore nor Bradford; I don't know if the latter 
has done anything else notable in sf or otherwise. Since I like 
Moore, I'll probably read it soonish, and may seek out the Pinnacle edition [or the Armchair reprint pictured above] and hope it isn't too bad a job of republishing.

The most interesting assertion, to me, in Knox's reviews is Silverberg's 

crediting FURY primarily to C. L. Moore. Was there some confusion at that time that has since been resolved toward crediting it mostly or entirely to Kuttner? [Silverberg soon told me he doesn't know why he was so certain of this, though he still suspects Fury was mostly Moore's work.] I idly wonder if Margulies actually edited THREE TIMES INFINITY (since it's comprised of Brackett and Bradbury's "Lorelai of the Red Mist," Sturgeon's "The Golden Helix," and Heinlein's "Destination Moon," it presumably wouldn't take anyone too long to assemble), and am pleased to be pointed toward our much-missed-here Frank Robinson's "The Reluctant Heroes" as the best story in the Wollheim antho. I also wonder how the various reviewers (including Damon Knight) felt about that "Readin' and Writhin'" column-title, and if Silverberg might now be the most frequent column-holder in sf-magazines, with however many of these he did, "The Spectroscope" book reviews in AMAZING in the '60s, the 
"Opinion" columns in AMAZING and ASIMOV'S later, "The Observatory" in 
the last AMAZING inpulpation so far, and possibly others I'm overlooking ...not that Damon Knight wasn't pretty widely-dispersed in this regard, as well...

The ads are a reasonably insane bunch; aside from unsurprising house 

ads for DOUBLE ACTION MYSTERY AND DETECTIVE STORIES (the one led off by Wilhelm's "Murderer's Apprentice" and detailed in the FM Index), and FUTURE SCIENCE FICTION, there are the usual pulp-holdover RUPTURED? ads, offers of "spot-reducing" anti-flab handheld vibrators, BOYS! GIRLS! SPECIAL OFFER TO ZOOM YOUR POPULARITY! through the wonders of personalized stationery, with a menu of suggested self-inflicted nicknames you, too, could have included on your letterhead..."Spook" or "Goldbrick Harry" for boys, "Hep Cat" or "Slick Chick" for the XX chromosome crowd, hoo doggie. Also, an offer for unisex hooded sweatshirts emblazoned "U. S. Drinking Team" just to remind us College Humor was already very much with us by 1959. John Boston's much-beloved "You Traveled Through Time for FORBIDDEN LOVE..." SFBC ad would actually be an improvement, on balance...but perhaps not if it nudged the ILLUSTRATED SEX FACTS ad out. For a magazine printed by the reasonably-rated folk in Holyoke, there's unusually dark ink on the relatively large-charactered, uncrowded pages. I wonder how Lowndes might've done with a budget...but, we can wonder this about 
so many editors, eh?

Friday, November 6, 2015

FFB: HAWKSBILL STATION by Robert Silverberg (Doubleday 1968 et seq.); LOOKING BACKWARD 2000-1887 by Edward Bellamy (Ticknor and Co./Houghton Mifflin 1888 et seq.)

These are the first two adult science fiction novels I read (unless we count Our Gang by Philip Roth, a mildly surreal and barely sfnal lampoon of the Nixon Admin, which I read when I was in 6th grade/age 11). They're both about, within their respective compasses, the triumph of socialist and/or anarchist ideas and means of organization...go figure. Another odd and more personal parallel...I read them, one each, on trips to visit my maternal and paternal grandparents.

Looking Backward involves one Julian West, hypnotized into a sort of suspended animation in 1887 which lasts till he is awakened in 2000, to find a rather utopian social-democratic world, a post-scarcity society where want and warfare have fallen away, and worldwide equality (as the sequel would be titled) and harmony are reigning rationally and compassionately. West basically gets the tour of the world at the cusp of the millennium, with the rationalized food distribution, equitable wages and retirement at 45 if desired, and such...the Bellamy was a Huge bestseller in its time, and one of the great popularizers of the democratic socialist vision, helping along both the Populist and Socialist Party causes around the turn of the century in the U.S., and perhaps also the fellow-travelers in the rest of the Anglophone world (albeit the Fabians in the UK and other co-founders of Labour had their own texts).  Among the more minor bits of technological advancement it predicted, almost inarguably more successfully than its political aspirations over the longer term, was the wiring of every household that so desired with high-fidelity telephonic audio reception of classical music...which in the pre-Marconi days, is a pretty damned good anticipation not only of radio but of the internet. (Considering I was reading the book in 1975 or '76, that was still anticipating the nearly universal access to the internet that phones allow today, and often in places otherwise not so blessed with cutting-edge technology or even particularly safe drinking water...domestically and abroad.) I read it, in a Magnum Easy Eye edition from Lancer Books (purchased for a quarter--I would buy it for a quarter--at the W. T. Grant's discount department store, where they had great tables of 3 for a dollar and 4 for a dollar books at all times in '74-'76, most of the cheaper ones Lancer mass-market paperbacks that mobbed-up Lancer might well've made fall off their own trucks. The 33c items were often textbooks and other oversized paperbacks and my parents and I often sorted through those, as well), while sitting on my grandmother's porch in the middle of coal country, in Beckley, West Virginia, her husband my grandfather having been apparently murdered in the mid '40s via an engineered cave-in, reportedly by someone who envied him his supervisory job in the mines...certainly the struggles for unionization and better conditions were hard to forget when there, with, if I'm not mistaken, at least a few of my cousins working the mines at least briefly...oddly enough, my uncles did Any damned thing they could to Not work in the mines. Though one, who became a police officer, was also murdered in the late '60s by someone who came up behind him in a local bar. The legacy of the Bellamy had continued, at least to some extent, to inspire readers even down to the present day...about the time I was reading the original, the radical among US sf writers with the most high-flying resume, Mack Reynolds (among other work, he had written speeches for his father, Socialist Labor Party candidate for President Verne Reynolds)(SLP founder Daniel De Leon having famously been such a doctrinaire Marxist that he called out Marx himself for deviationism and selling out in the 1880s, the SLP being the first socialist party to take the name in the US) was writing and publishing his own updates of Looking Backward and Equality.

Hawksbill Station involves time travel as well, in this case the use of time travel by a fascist future US regime to strand its political prisoners in the Cambrian era, where they are seen as not being able to cause much mischief--the colony of rebels is a stag affair (I vaguely recall the oppositional women being stranded in another remote era) and the prison colony, a sort of gulag, is provided with the barest necessities by what is apparently a one-way-only means of transport from the future. The prisoners are mostly relatively intellectual sorts, no Conrad villains nor Russian Social Revolutionary bomb-throwers (the former were based on), who are basically trying their best to make a tough and boring exile less insane-making...the protagonist, the "uncrowned king" of what nonetheless amounts to an anarchist co-operative, is particularly interested in the study of the trilobites which are the most common sort of animal life in the nearby ocean waters...our prisoners are essentially the only dry land animals extant. No jailers are necessary, beyond the ones back in future U.S., sending back the occasional prisoner or supplies via the time-travel reception device referred to as the Hammer.  Among the most memorable imagery in the book is that of the protagonist contemplating the animals in the littoral waters at his feet, he the alien in their world (and somehow not carrying bacteria to ravage the world of the time nor ravaged by the native bacteria and other microorganisms). The new prisoner sent back at novel's beginning, Hahn, turns out to not be what he claims to be...and the book (without spoiling too much) has a less dystopian resolution than it might. This one was a book, in the 1970 Avon paperback with the ridiculous cover (presumably the artist was given the title and little else to go on), that I was given, after I picked it up at my grandmother and step-grandfather's house in Vermont...it might've been part of my uncle David Wheeler's personal collection, left behind when he enlisted (if you'd like it back, David, I'll happily provide you another copy), or it might well be one of the items Ivan Wheeler had fished out of the dry goods disposal work he did...rubbish collection rather than trash collection, as he made the distinction, in working for himself after leaving the granite polishing sheds in Barre, Vermont, that had left him with permanent black stains on his hands. The unions there had been purged of most of their radicals by the 1940s, and would consistently push for higher wages while making no efforts to curb the horrible working conditions in the polishing sheds (silicosis and too often tuberculosis being a way of life) and related quarry work. The old Socialist Labor Hall in Barre was in the '50s a small packing plant for vegetables. Meanwhile, the novella version of "Hawksbill Station" had been kind of a turning point work of fiction for Robert Silverberg; he'd more or less moved on from writing sf by the early '60s, emphasizing both faster-buck writing of work he wasn't too proud of, and increasingly doing some widely-respected nonfiction writing in anthropology and other sciences that sometimes went beyond popularization to original research (he would receive the occasional letter addressed to Dr. Silverberg in those years, despite having left school with a BA). While Silverberg had kept a hand in the sf/fantasy world, most visibly and regularly as book reviewer for Cele Goldsmith Lalli's Amazing: Fact and Science Fiction Stories (as the title-form had it in the early '60s), he hadn't been publishing much new fiction for several years till Frederik Pohl enticed him to contribute to Galaxy and its stablemates, and while "To See the Invisible Man" (Worlds of Tomorrow, 1963) might've been the first strong indication of the New Silverberg sf and some fantasy which he would contribute over the next decade and more, the 1967 novella version of "Hawksbill" (which Silverberg apparently prefers to the novel, though the novel is fine) was I believe the first of the new crop of stories to get a lot of attention, as well as his longest work in the field aside since one less-well-received novel, The Seed of Earth, published in book form in 1962 (after Pohl had published a heavily cut version in Galaxy that year). Despite Silverberg being a libertarian-leaning conservative for the most part, the tenor of the times was leftwardly radicalizing even the likes of Karl Hess and Gary Wills in those years, and Silverberg's portrait of his rebels is notably more sympathetic than, say, the theoretically more left-leaning Donald Westlake's vile calumny with the "Curt Clark" novel Anarchaos (1967) (perhaps Westlake was on an Al Capp sort of trajectory).

For more of today's books, please see Patti Abbott's blog.

Sol Dember's cutesy cover illo is for the Zelazny story.



























Friday, March 14, 2014

FFB: THE SCIENCE FICTION HALL OF FAME, Volumes 1, edited by Robert Silverberg (Doubleday 1970)

The Science Fiction Writers of America came together in the mid 1960s (formally in 1965), following the examples of the elder Mystery Writers of America and Western Writers of America, and while it didn't become the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America till much later on, it always was open to those who wrote mostly fantasy as well. Among the activities emulated by the new group (quite aside from internecine strife and logrolling) were the establishment of awards and the putting together of fundraising anthologies, some of which became touchstones in the field. The Nebula Awards, and their related irregularly-assembled anthologies, were among the most obvious examples, but of more sustained popularity has been The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume 1, and edited by then SFWA president Robert Silverberg, drawing on a members' poll of their choices for the best sf short stories and novelets published before the first Nebula awards, given in 1965.

the Contento Index:

The Science Fiction Hall of Fame Volume 1 ed. Robert Silverberg (Doubleday, 1970, hc)
This volume particularly has been commonly used as a textbook in sf courses, particularly in the 1970s, and has been (usually) in print in either the Avon mass-market or Tor "quality" paperback editions since publication, along with the Science Fiction Book Club edition.  It's an interesting cross-section of magazine sf and near-sf (some of the stories are sf if you Want them to be, but not by much, notably the Bixby, the Clarke and the Matheson, which are at least as much horror stories, and the Clarke is essentially a cosmic joke-story), and at least two of them are early stories by writers who went on to do much better work...to the degree that they rather resented being consistently told how wonderful their early attention-getters were (with the implication they hadn't topped them): the Sturgeon and (particularly commonly) the Asimov, which also topped the SFWA-member poll as the story most widely suggested for inclusion (the Weinbaum came in second).  Among the stories which had the most impact on me as a young reader, digging into my father's battered secondhand copy of the SFBC edition, was "A Martian Odyssey" (wherein Weinbaum names one of his characters "Putz" straightfacedly, enjoying getting that past the presumably all-goy editorial staff at Wonder Stories in 1934), where the comic touches were less important than the reasonably deft hand at exploring a fanciful Martian ecology, and the rather more grounded (than Edgar Rice Burroughs's work and similar John Carteresque adventures) yet still mind-blowing suggestions of what and how might arise on Mars as it was understood in the 1930s...while it was hardly alone among stories that would help set the template for what John W. Campbell would be seeking to offer as editor of Astounding Stories beginning in 1937, it was the best-remembered example, and one of the most fully-formed.  Even Campbell's own writing, whether the kind of super-science fiction he'd publish under his own name or the more mood-driven and existential pieces he'd publish as by "Don A. Stuart" (such as, obviously, "Twilight") didn't quite show the way as clearly, though they provided other aspects of what JWC hoped to encourage...and succeeded in doing. And while other editors at other magazines (and even such folk as Stephen Vincent Benet and Philip Wylie, writing for other markets altogether...and not represented in this book more out of parochialism than anything else) often would emphasize other aspects, such as wild adventure or even paranoid fantasy of a less salubrious sort, there were also those who reacted to what Campbell was fostering and added their own elements to it...including the Futurians, who would edit their own set of underbudgeted magazines and sometimes better-funded book lines beginning in the earliest 1940s, and such other colleagues of Campbell as writers and eventually editors as Anthony Boucher, co-founder and more visible partner in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and H. L. Gold, founding editor of Galaxy...their innovations, as (ex-Futurians) C. M. Kornbluth's "The Little Black Bag" and Judith Merril's "That Only a Mother" demonstrate here, would feed back into Campbell's Astounding as well as going forward to influence the work that would follow in other media...as did the work of such writers never too much in the Astounding mode as Sturgeon-student Ray Bradbury (whose contribution is from the most devoted of the adventure magazines, Planet Stories, which nonetheless was also open to the kind of almost satirical psychodrama Bradbury touches on here) and Paul "Cordwainer Smith" Linebarger, whose first story under that name was sufficiently bizarre in the late 1940s to be eagerly or reluctantly rejected by the established magazines, and appeared in the semi-professional magazine Fantasy Book...where it probably caught the eye of "Smith"'s eventual editorial champion, (ex-Futurian) Frederik Pohl, mostly because Pohl and (ex-Futurian) Isaac Asimov had a collaborated fantasy story in the same issue. That (ex-Futurian) Damon Knight was the main sparkplug of founding SFWA, with notable early assistance from such old Milford Writers' Workshop partners as (ex-Futurians) James Blish and Merril probably didn't hurt their chances of appearance in this volume, not that the stories might not've gotten them entry anyway...Knight's story is certainly one of the best in the book, and a complex study of the role of the outsider (very much including the outsider artist, and perhaps all artists) in human society...much as Fritz Leiber's is a study of how taking on face value the Official Story of how people should and do interact in society can leave one woefully unprepared for real life...these stories had a major influence on me.

Others have noted that such rather better stories as "The Star" by Arthur C. Clarke probably should've taken the place of the poll-winners included for the writers in question (the better Clarke story lost to the joke story by only a relative handful of votes), but I'd meant to make only a few quick comments on a very busy day (and about at least Volumes 2-4, as well), and found myself going on this long and not being nearly finished, so will end matters right here for now...

Please see Patti Abbott's blog for the rest of today's books and other work...

And here are the subsequent volumes I hope to usefully comment upon:

Science Fiction Hall of Fame Volume 2A ed. Ben Bova (Doubleday, 1973, hc)

Science Fiction Hall of Fame Volume 2B ed. Ben Bova (Doubleday, 1973, hc)
 The Science Fiction Hall of Fame Volume III (with George W. Proctor) (Avon 0-380-79335-0, Mar ’82, $3.95, 672pp, pb) First American edition (Gollancz 1981 as Science Fiction Hall of Fame Volume Four).
  • ix · Introduction · Arthur C. Clarke · in
  • 2 · “Repent, Harlequin!” Said the Ticktockman · Harlan Ellison · ss Galaxy Dec ’65
  • 15 · The Doors of His Face, the Lamps of His Mouth · Roger Zelazny · nv F&SF Mar ’65
  • 49 · The Saliva Tree · Brian W. Aldiss · na F&SF Sep ’65
  • 122 · He Who Shapes · Roger Zelazny · na Amazing Jan ’65 (+1); ; expanded to The Dream Master, New York: Ace, 1966
  • 216 · The Secret Place · Richard M. McKenna · ss Orbit 1, ed. Damon Knight, Berkley Medallion, 1966
  • 232 · Call Him Lord · Gordon R. Dickson · ss Analog May ’66
  • 254 · The Last Castle · Jack Vance · na Galaxy Apr ’66
  • 318 · Aye, and Gomorrah... · Samuel R. Delany · ss Dangerous Visions, ed. Harlan Ellison, Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1967
  • 329 · Gonna Roll the Bones · Fritz Leiber · nv Dangerous Visions, ed. Harlan Ellison, Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1967
  • 352 · Behold the Man [Karl Glogauer] · Michael Moorcock · na New Worlds #166 ’66
  • 406 · The Planners · Kate Wilhelm · ss Orbit 3, ed. Damon Knight, G.P. Putnam’s, 1968
  • 422 · Mother to the World · Richard Wilson · nv Orbit 3, ed. Damon Knight, G.P. Putnam’s, 1968
  • 461 · Dragonrider [Pern] · Anne McCaffrey · na Analog Dec ’67 (+1)
  • 580 · Passengers · Robert Silverberg · ss Orbit 4, ed. Damon Knight, G.P. Putnam’s, 1968
  • 593 · Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones · Samuel R. Delany · nv New Worlds Dec ’68
  • 632 · A Boy and His Dog [Vic & Blood] · Harlan Ellison · nv New Worlds Apr ’68

The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol. IV ed. Terry Carr (Avon 0-380-89710-5, Jul ’86 [Jun ’86], $4.95, 434pp, pb) Anthology of Nebula Award winning stories from 1970-1974.
  • ix · Introduction · Terry Carr · in
  • 2 · Ill Met in Lankhmar [Fafhrd & Gray Mouser] · Fritz Leiber · na F&SF Apr ’70
  • 44 · Slow Sculpture · Theodore Sturgeon · nv Galaxy Feb ’70
  • 64 · The Missing Man [Rescue Squad] · Katherine MacLean · na Analog Mar ’71
  • 107 · The Queen of Air and Darkness · Poul Anderson · na F&SF Apr ’71
  • 149 · Good News from the Vatican · Robert Silverberg · ss Universe 1, ed. Terry Carr, Ace, 1971
  • 158 · A Meeting with Medusa · Arthur C. Clarke · nv Playboy Dec ’71
  • 196 · Goat Song · Poul Anderson · nv F&SF Feb ’72
  • 226 · When It Changed · Joanna Russ · ss Again, Dangerous Visions, ed. Harlan Ellison, Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1972
  • 236 · The Death of Dr. Island · Gene Wolfe · na Universe 3, ed. Terry Carr, Random House, 1973
  • 287 · Of Mist, and Grass, and Sand [Snake] · Vonda N. McIntyre · nv Analog Oct ’73
  • 306 · Love Is the Plan the Plan Is Death · James Tiptree, Jr. · ss The Alien Condition, ed. Stephen Goldin, Ballantine, 1973
  • 324 · Born with the Dead · Robert Silverberg · na F&SF Apr ’74
  • 385 · If the Stars Are Gods · Gordon Eklund & Gregory Benford · nv Universe 4, ed. Terry Carr, Random House, 1974
  • 421 · The Day Before the Revolution · Ursula K. Le Guin · ss Galaxy Aug ’74

Friday, August 9, 2013

Jack/John Holbrook Vance FFB: THE DOGTOWN TOURIST AGENCY by Jack Vance (1975)

This, my review of Jack Vance's short novel/long novella The Dogtown Tourist Agency, first published in the bugcrushing all-original-publication anthology Epoch, edited by Robert Silverberg and Roger Elwood (subtitled, modestly, "The State of the Art of Science Fiction Now") will be delayed to later today, as I'm feeling a bit under the weather. It is notable that Epoch was Berkley Books's attempt to do just that, offer an expensively-budgeted all-original anthology to stand with anyone's, including such relatively rare commercial successes as the Star Science Fiction series edited by Frederik Pohl (Ballantine, 1950s) and its less-sustained heir of sorts, Stellar Science Fiction (edited by Judy-Lynn Benjamin/Del Rey, for Ballantine, then Ballantine/Del Rey Books, 1970s) or Dangerous Visions edited by Harlan Ellison (Doubleday, 1967) after an Ellison-commissioned similar project to be edited by Judith Merril had fizzled while Ellison was editing at Regency Books.

Robert Silverberg, during the most artistically "hot" period of his life as a writer, and most prolific period as anthologist for adult and younger readers, and Roger Elwood, the controversial and hugely prolific anthologist (infamous in sf circles for his conservative Christian opinions and relative nonchalance about the quality of the work he would publish, while usually querying work from good writers for his original anthologies and often depending on his co-editors to exercise most of the literary judgment about what was going into original or reprint anthologies) were given the contract to produce the Big Book for Berkley, which was also one of the first books (iinm) to be published after the merger of the paperback line with G.P. Putnam, as a Berkley/Putnam hardcover. The SF Book Club and, of course, Berkley's originals line Medallion did reprint editions, and that latter was how I first saw and read the volume in early 1977, when my father had purchased it for himself (probably not least because it leads off with the first appearance of Larry Niven's novella "ARM" and he was a Niven fanatic up until about that point of Niven's career). It was also the first time I would see the name of my friend A. A. Attanasio in print (and it was close to his first sale).

For some reason as yet unknown to me, this solid example of Vance's voluptuous color sense, knack for sketching convincing alien culture and keen sardonic wit has been republished in, among other collections, the second volume of The Early Jack Vance, which leads me to wonder if this first Miro Hetzel story had been sitting in Vance's drawer before he dusted it off and sent it along to Silverberg and Elwood (or if it simply struck the editors of The Early Vance as in the spirit of Vance's early work for Planet Stories and Startling Stories magazines, which it is)...why that would be the case, I'm unsure, as it is while not the absolute essence of Vance's art that the likes of the Dying Earth and arguably the Lyonesse sequences of books, or his early award winners, have been, they are still Vance hitting on all cylinders.

More anon.

The ISFDB index to Epoch (the hardcover and book club editions, with different pagination for the paperback, unsurpisingly)
  • Pages: viii+623
Please see BV Lawson's blog for more of today's (Vance week) books...Patti Abbott is on assignment.

Friday, April 22, 2011

FFB: HELL'S CARTOGRAPHERS edited by Harry Harrison and Brian Aldiss (Harper & Row/Wiedenfield & Nicholson 1975)


Among their collaborative projects in the 1970s, along with most notably the Best SF annual published by Berkley, Briton Brian Aldiss and US world-traveler Harry Harrison co-edited and -published the critical and literary-historical journal SF Horizons, an engaging and contentious magazine that was reprinted in boards by the late '70s so that I could find it at one or another Hawaiian library, and would make it's own even more obscure Friday Book...but among the offshoots of that effort was this anthology of autobiographical and procedural essays by six important writers in the sf field, including the editors themselves. And these essays, in their turn, were at least the seeds of Damon Knight's group memoir The Futurians and Frederik Pohl's personal The Way the Future Was, if not also of the longer or collected memoirs since published by Aldiss and Robert Silverberg.

Writers are rarely averse to producing autobiography at some length or in some format, but this was, I think, the first selection of autobiographical essays by sf writers to be published, at very least by large commercial publishing houses. I'd seen Alfred Bester's first, "My Affair with Science Fiction," for it appeared first in Harrison's anthology, otherwise given to first-publication of fiction, Nova 4 (1974), sadly the last of that fine series, and the paperback edition of which, from Manor Books of all people (and they did an unusually elegant job with it), was the first book I ever gave my father as a birthday gift, to his surprise. Bester, in his usual breezy style, takes us on a quick trip through his early writing experiences (his first published short story is repurposed at submission to win a contest at Thrilling Wonder Stories that Robert Heinlein was considering entering with his first published short story, "Lifeline," till Heinlein noted that selling the same story to Astounding Science Fiction, if he could, would make slightly more money than the contest prize; as Bester elsewhere recalls saying to Heinlein much later, "I won that contest and you made ten dollars more than I did."), how he came along with TWS editor Mort Weisinger when he moved over to DC Comics and worked with other writers on all but Batman "and Rabinowitz" scenarios for a few years, before breaking into radio-drama and nonfiction writing, particularly for Holiday magazine, all the while continuing to publish increasingly sophisticated and adventurous sf and fantasy (and how John Campbell's embrace of Scientology helped chase Bester away from his magazine). Harrison followed a similar path, though he started professionally in comics, and sold his first short story to Damon Knight at Worlds Beyond in 1951; oddly enough, Knight also started professionally as much a visual artist and illustrator as he did writer, with his first professional publication being a cartoon in Amazing Stories in 1940 (among his more notable illustration jobs was for Weird Tales's reprint of Lovecraft's "Herbert West, Reanimator" in the March, 1942 issue, the same one that features Robert Bloch's "Hell on Earth," noted here recently; the HPL story had first appeared in the little magazine Home Brew).
I had read Knight's and Pohl's books previously, so their essays were interesting mostly for the small counterpoints to the longer texts, but hadn't read too much autobiography at that point from the youngest contributor to the book, Robert Silverberg, nor from the only non-Yank contributor, Brian Aldiss, and so Silverberg's journeyman passage through the men's sweat magazines and similar markets rather than comics nor primarily the pulps (though Silverberg would contribute to many of the last of the pulps as that format of magazine faded with the passing of the 1950s, and their children the digest-sized fiction magazines flourished) is a counterpoint, as was Aldiss's early experience of American fiction magazines (in the post-war era, often dumped on the British equivalents of five and dime stores after serving as ballast in cargo ships, and comparable to the influence of American records on the young musicians in Britain of the '50s and '60s) and his career as someone just a bit to the side of the Angry Young Men but like them willing to explore every sort of literature if it looked at all interesting or fruitful, while particularly devoting himself to developing his work in sf...the title of this book echoes that of once Angry Young Man Kingsley Amis's collection of lectures recast as essays, New Maps of Hell, one of the important works of criticism about sf to arise at the turn of the 1960s, along with such collections of critical pieces as Knight's In Search of Wonder and James Blish's The Issue at Hand (and Blish would probably be in this book, but was in the process of dying from cancer and the effects of cancer surgery while it was being prepared; Aldiss notes that Michael Moorcock begged off, as the only requested contributor to do so out of what Aldiss considers excessive modesty...though perhaps insufficiently-cooled anger by the mid-'70s over what had happened to Moorcock's baby New Worlds magazine might also have played a part).

So, a key book in the history as well as about the history of the science fiction field, and good fun as well as touching and startling at times, and consistently illuminating.

For more of today's "forgotten" books, please see Patti Abbott's blog.