than they appear. Draw your own conclusions. Tucker, too, had his Guest Editorial in 8, discussed above.
Other stories not accounted for include John Kippax’s “Special Delivery” (14), another of his egregious Damon-Runyon-on-Mars stories featuring the narrator’s dog Dimple and his black friend Satchmo; Kenneth Bulmer’s pleasant enough “Psi No More” (14) (find the poltergeist? She’s working for you); “Hilda” (14) by W. B. Hickey or H. B. Hickey, depending on where you read (it’s really H. B., and this story about a literal-minded robot was in Fantasy & Science Fiction, September 1952); John Brunner again, as Keith Woodcott since he had “The Talisman” under his own name in the same issue, with “No Future In It” (15), a clever story about a fake wizard who accidentally summons a time traveler, the title story of Brunner’s first story collection (by Gollancz in 1962 and Doubleday in 1964); and Charles E. Fritch’s inane “Birthday Present” (15).
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These issues of Science Fantasy contain two Guest Editorials and, wonder of wonders, a letter column. The editorial in 13, “Ever Been to Uranus?”, is by Jonathan Burke who, consistently with his practice, wants to get the science out of science fiction, or at least out of his face. After ploughing through technical material, he says,
I found—as did so many others—that I preferred good writing to equations, and imaginative situations to extracts from text-books. Who cared whether the hero wore a space suit on Mars or not? Myself and my colleagues [whom he doesn’t identify] no more demanded full mechanical details of a space ship than we demanded a potato-by-potato account of farm life in a Thomas Hardy novel. Liberation of the imagination was the essential.
Indeed, Burke complains of a bad review of one of his books which cited the fact that the characters did not wear space helmets on Mars. “To which I can only reply that Dante does not refer to the inhabitants of Hell as wearing asbestos suits. And in Dante’s day scientists had pronounced views on the literal existence of Hell.” He goes on to cite editor Carnell for telling him “People can’t live on Uranus. We know that,” and his own lack of enough temerity to ask Carnell if he had ever been there. After more mockery in this vein, he says sales of SF are falling off because
[t]here are no human beings in science fiction...their behavior is governed by gadgets and plot gimmicks.... What goes on in the hearts and minds beneath those space suits? [The reader] is not told. And who can maintain enthusiasm about the actions of depersonalized space suits walking on alien worlds? ...Perhaps we had better forget about space travel for a while. Certainly if the intelligent reader is to be drawn back once more to science fiction instead of permanently rejecting it, he must be offered work that is mature artistically rather than ploddingly accurate according to the current scientific theories.
Clearly a man ahead of his time. Which is not to say he is entirely right.
In 14 we have E. C. Tubb’s “Follow My Leader,” a different but familiar brand of polemic: SF has lost its sense of wonder! Or as Tubb puts it: “I do not regret the mutation of those early stories into the far better written and presented ones of today, but one thing I do regret. I regret the variety and loss of vision, the touch of the impossible and the incredibly wild concepts.” But now? “Now authors seem to write for the sole reason that they want to sell.” That is, they “study the market” and send editors more of what the editors have (or a particular editor has) been buying. “How many magazines now give the impression that all the stories have been written by the same man? ...Exaggerated? It wasn’t so long ago that a top-line American magazine chose to warn all authors that a certain type of story would no longer be accepted, no matter how well-written.” (This is presumably a reference to John Campbell’s notice that he was tired of atomic doom stories.25) Contra Burke, Tubb says: “True, science is catching up with us all the time, but what of it? Science fiction is a form of prophecy and we should be the last to grumble because of the increasing demand for accuracy.” Even fantasy must follow its inner logic.
Tubb cautions: “Don’t misunderstand me here, I am the last to advocate sex or sadism as the means to liven up the stories. Science fiction has so-far remained clean, let’s keep it that way. There is nothing clever or desirable in taking advantage of the freedom of the field to exploit our own wish-fulfillments, erotic dreams, and frustrations.” (J. G. Ballard’s first publication, “Prima Belladonna” in Science Fantasy 20, is about eighteen months away—the beginning of the end, in Tubb’s terms.)
In 15, we find “Dear Editor” by “The Readers,” which comprises one long and one very long tirade against Jonathan Burke’s editorial. The introductory note indicates that Burke’s editorial “touched off some spirited replies” and it’s only fair to let the readers have a say. The very long tirade is by none other than Helen M. Urban of Hollywood, California, author of “Pass the Salt” in 13, the militantly cute one about the man who married a witch. Here, however, she takes up the cudgels of scientific accuracy, taking a passing side-swipe at the reference in a John Kippax story to the “dark side” of the moon and energetically explaining to Burke that spectrographic analysis is quite sufficient to demonstrate that you would need a space suit on Mars. And further: “Burke! Part of the fun of writing s-f is thinking about the details which you denounce.”
Burke’s other assailant is Ed Luksus of Gary, Indiana, who says: “I’ve read enough of this ‘take the science out of science fiction’ to gain an ill temper. Messrs. Crossen and Tenn have been answered on this side of the Atlantic by the question ‘What science?’ I choose to query Mr. Burke in the same manner. The last story with any science in it was Mission of Gravity by Hal Clement which was serialised in Astounding Science Fiction two years ago.”
22. See these covers at http://www.sfcovers.net/mainnav.htm or http://www.philsp.com/mags/sciencefantasy.html.
23. Broderick finds it far more interesting than that, one of Quinn’s best covers.
24. Reference is to the much-anthologized story of that title by Henry Kuttner.
25. Campbell wrote in response to a reader’s letter in the September 1948 Astounding Science Fiction: “We have specified to our authors that the ‘atomic doom’ stories are not wanted, for precisely the reasons you give.” Reader W. N. McBain had complained: “People are getting atomic warfare thrown at them from all angles these days. I for one am heartily sick of it. You are no longer a prophet crying in the wilderness. I’ve been reading enough of this type of story to have a reasonable idea of what ravening energies lie in the heart of the atom, and I want a bit of pure escapism.”
6: SCIENCE FANTASY, VOLUME 6 (ISSUES 16-18)
Science Fantasy continues along in the groove the magazine reached in the previous several issues, with uneven but interesting lead stories, a reliable contingent of capably done short stories (original and reprint), and an equally reliable contingent of the bloody awful in each issue.
Interior illustrations continue nondescript. Guest editorials have disappeared and there is no other nonfiction. Advertising has completely disappeared except for house ads. The price stays at 2/-, publishing remains at Derwent House and printing at Rugby Advertiser Ltd., and the schedule remains aspirational. It says “Published Bi-Monthly,” but the dates appearing unobtrusively in the lower right of the contents page say 11/55, 2/56, and 5/56, respectively. Another constant is the proofreading. There doesn’t seem to be much. In one story, for example, a character is “Deidre” or “Deirdre” depending on what page you’re looking at.
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