{"id":12855,"date":"2020-06-09T13:51:47","date_gmt":"2020-06-09T13:51:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=12855"},"modified":"2021-03-03T22:26:11","modified_gmt":"2021-03-03T22:26:11","slug":"the-science-fiction-hall-of-fame-volume-1-1970-edited-by-robert-silverberg-part-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=12855","title":{"rendered":"The Science Fiction Hall of Fame volume 1, 1970, edited by Robert Silverberg, part one"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Summary: This British edition of the book is the first half of the larger volume. It contains a mixed bag of stories, with very good work from Robert A. Heinlein (his \u2018Future History\u2019 story, The Roads Must Roll<\/em>), Henry Kuttner & C. L. Moore (the transcendent Mimsy Were the Borogoves<\/em>) and A. E. van Vogt (The Weapon Shop<\/em>, his best story), and good or better work from Lester del Rey (Helen O\u2019Loy<\/em>), Theodore Sturgeon (a scientist becomes a Microcosmic God<\/em>), Isaac Asimov (Nightfall<\/em>, a story of darkness falling on a planet with permanent daylight), Clifford D. Simak (his \u2018City\u2019 story Huddling Place<\/em>) and Murray Leinster (First Contact<\/em>). All of the included stories may have been considered as classics at one point in time, but I doubt that many of them deserve that description now, and certainly not the stories from Stanley G. Weinbaum and John W. Campbell.
\n[ISFDB link<\/a>]<\/p>\n

Other reviews:1<\/sup>
\nCharlie Brown, Locus<\/em>, #55 June 3, 1970
\nLester del Rey, If<\/em>, September-October 1970
\nAlgis Budrys, Galaxy, December 1970<\/a><\/em>
\nP. Schuyler Miller, Analog Science Fiction\/Science Fact, March 1971<\/a><\/em>
\nGeorge Turner, SF Commentary, #23<\/a><\/em>
\nTom Easton, Analog Science Fiction and Fact<\/em>, September 2003
\nColin Harvey, Strange Horizons, 15 March 2004<\/a><\/em>
\nBud Webster, Anthopology 101: Reflections, Inspections and Dissections of SF Anthologies<\/em>, (2010)
\nVarious, Goodreads<\/a><\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

Editor, Robert Silverberg<\/p>\n

Fiction:
\nA Martian Odyssey <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Stanley G. Weinbaum \u2217
\nTwilight <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by John W. Campbell, Jr. \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nHelen O\u2019Loy <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Lester del Rey \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nThe Roads Must Roll <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Robert A. Heinlein \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nMicrocosmic God <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Theodore Sturgeon \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+
\nNightfall <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Isaac Asimov \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+
\nThe Weapon Shop <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by A. E. van Vogt \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nMimsy Were the Borogoves <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore [as by Lewis Padgett] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nHuddling Place <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Clifford D. Simak \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nArena <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Fredric Brown \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+
\nFirst Contact <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Murray Leinster \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong><\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nIntroduction (The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume I) <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 essay by Robert Silverberg<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

(Note: this British version of the book contains the first half of the original The Science Fiction Hall of Fame<\/em>, with the remainder collected in a second volume. I\u2019m reviewing the UK versions because (a) I own and have previously read them, and (b) for length reasons.)<\/p>\n

Normally when I read an anthology or magazine I start with the fiction and end with the non-fiction, but this time around I\u2019m going to start with Robert Silverberg\u2019s Introduction<\/em><\/strong>, as several of my criticisms of this anthology and its story choices tie back to this essay and the information it contains.
\nSilverberg starts his essay with this assertion:<\/p>\n

This is as nearly definitive an anthology of modern science fiction stories as is likely to be compiled for quite some time.\u00a0 p. ix<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Why\u2019s that then?<\/p>\n

Its contents were chosen by vote of the membership of the Science Fiction Writers of America, an organization of some three hundred professional writers whose roster includes virtually everyone now living who has ever had science fiction published in the United States. The book you now hold represents the considered verdict of those who themselves have shaped science fiction\u2014a roster of outstanding stories selected by people who know more intimately than any others what the criteria for excellence in science fiction should be.\u00a0 p. ix<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A number of questions immediately arise: why would the 300 self-selected members (overwhelmingly American) of the SFWA have a \u201cconsidered verdict\u201d that is better than all the writers, critics and thousands of fans who didn\u2019t or couldn\u2019t join? Do all of these 300 writers extensively read the field? (Unlikely.) If they do, and they \u201cknow more intimately than any others what the criteria for excellence in science fiction should be,\u201d why did this group crank out so much rubbish during the period concerned? I could go on. Let\u2019s just agree that there is no real evidence that this group is more likely to pick a definitive selection than any other.2<\/sup>
\nThe next part of the introduction gives us a potted history of the SFWA and its Nebula Awards, and the decision to produce a volume to collect the notable stories produced before the awards began in 1966 (for 1965 stories).
\nWe then get a detailed description of the selection process (look away now if you don\u2019t like watching sausages get made): first, there was a vote on stories shorter than 15,000 words (those of longer lengths were reserved for later volumes), which produced a list of 132 stories by seventy-six writers; then all 300 writers had to select ten stories from the list, one per author, and \u201ckeeping historical perspective in mind\u201d. This produced the following selection:<\/p>\n

1. Nightfall<\/em>, Isaac Asimov
\n2. A Martian Odyssey<\/em>, Stanley G. Weinbaum
\n3. Flowers for Algernon<\/em>, Daniel Keyes
\n4. Microcosmic God<\/em>, Theodore Sturgeon
\n(tie) First Contact<\/em>, Murray Leinster
\n6. A Rose for Ecclesiastes<\/em>, Roger Zelazny
\n7. The Roads Must Roll<\/em>, Robert A. Heinlein
\n(tie) Mimsy Were the Borogoves<\/em>, Lewis Padgett
\n(tie) Coming Attraction<\/em>, Fritz Leiber
\n(tie) The Cold Equations<\/em>, Tom Godwin
\n11. The Nine Billion Names of God<\/em>, Arthur C. Clarke
\n12. Surface Tension<\/em>, James Blish
\n13. The Weapon Shop<\/em>, A. E. van Vogt
\n(tie) Twilight<\/em>, John W. Campbell
\n15. Arena<\/em>, Fredric Brown
\n.<\/span>
\n(Arthur C. Clarke\u2019s The Star<\/em> would have been the fifteenth story on this list if it had not been disqualified by the presence of another Clarke story in eleventh place. Clarke was the only writer to place two stories in the top fifteen, although both Robert A. Heinlein and Ray Bradbury had two stories in the top twenty.)\u00a0 p. x<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Already we can see the wheels beginning to come off. Are these stories by Sturgeon, Heinlein, Leiber, and Clarke really the best these writers wrote in the pre-1965 period? Do A Martian Odyssey<\/em> and Twilight <\/em>really belong in the same list as Flowers for Algernon<\/em> or Nightfall?<\/em>
\nThe selection procedure becomes even more muddled as editor Silverberg bodges his way through the rest of the list: Arthur Clarke\u2019s The Star<\/em> is in the top fifteen but is bumped by The Nine Billion Names of God<\/em>; one writer (Bradbury, I assume) has four stories on the original ballot but none in the top twenty, so Silverberg includes Mars is Heaven<\/em>, \u201cthe story that the writer himself wished to see included in the book\u201d (this, rather than the more obvious There Will Come Soft Rains<\/em> or The Sound of Thunder<\/em>); another writer\u2019s stories \u201cmade the second fifteen, one vote apart; but the story with the higher number of votes was not the story that the writer himself wished to see included in the book\u201d (presumably that is why the middling Huddling Place<\/em> is here rather than the slam-dunk Desertion<\/em>).
\nDefinitive? I think not, and this will become even more apparent when we look at the stories themselves.<\/p>\n

\u201cHistorical perspective\u201d means that we have a couple of clunkers to sit through before we get to anything remotely worthy. The first of these, A Martian Odyssey<\/em><\/strong> by Stanley G. Weinbaum (Wonder Stories<\/em>, July 1934) starts with the crew of Ares<\/em> discussing their explorations of the surface of Mars. Most of the conversation comes from Jarvis the chemist, who gives an account of his journey across the planet after his spaceship malfunctioned. This involves him rescuing an alien called Tweel from a \u201cdream beast\u201d:<\/p>\n

All I could see then was a bunch of black ropy arms tangled around what looked like, as Putz described it to you, an ostrich. I wasn\u2019t going to interfere, naturally; if both creatures were dangerous, I\u2019d have one less to worry about.
\n\u201cBut the bird-like thing was putting up a good battle, dealing vicious blows with an eighteen-inch beak, between screeches. And besides, I caught a glimpse or two of what was on the end of those arms!\u201d Jarvis shuddered. \u201cBut the clincher was when I noticed a little black bag or case hung about the neck of the bird-thing! It was intelligent! That or tame, I assumed. Anyway, it clinched my decision. I pulled out my automatic and fired into what I could see of its antagonist.
\n[. . .]
\n\u201cThe Martian wasn\u2019t a bird, really. It wasn\u2019t even bird-like, except just at first glance. It had a beak all right, and a few feathery appendages, but the beak wasn\u2019t really a beak. It was somewhat flexible; I could see the tip bend slowly from side to side; it was almost like a cross between a beak and a trunk. It had four-toed feet, and four-fingered things\u2014 hands, you\u2019d have to call them, and a little roundish body, and a long neck ending in a tiny head\u2014 and that beak. It stood an inch or so taller than I, and\u2014 well, Putz saw it!\u201d
\nThe engineer nodded. \u201cJa! I saw!\u201d\u00a0 p. 5<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Thereafter, Jarvis and Tweel journey together across Mars, finding other exotic aliens such as the pyramid builder, the barrel beasts, etc. There is no real story, just endless description\u2014and is consequently quite boring to read. Presumably the novel aliens were the reason this was so popular at the time.3<\/sup>
\nNext up is Twilight <\/em><\/strong>by John W. Campbell, Jr. (Astounding Stories<\/em>, November 1934) which also uses a narrator listening to a story from a third party. The latter recounts a tale about how he picks up a hitchhiker, who turns out to be a time traveller who has visited Earth in the far future where man has lost his curiosity, and the machines run automatically.
\nThis is an okay mood piece I suppose, but it is rather dry fare; presumably acclaimed at the time for its more reflective, action-less narrative.
\nHelen O\u2019Loy <\/em><\/strong>by Lester del Rey (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, December 1938) yanks the book into the future with a more modern writing style and a good hook:<\/p>\n

I am an old man now, but I can still see Helen as Dave unpacked her, and still hear him gasp as he looked her over.
\n\u201cMan, isn\u2019t she a beauty?\u201d
\nShe was beautiful, a dream in spun plastics and metals, something Keats might have seen dimly when he wrote his sonnet. If Helen of Troy had looked like that the Greeks m ust have been pikers when they launched only a thousand ships; at least, that\u2019s what I told Dave.
\n\u201cHelen of Troy, eh?\u201d He looked at her tag. \u201cAt least it beats this thing\u2014K2W88. Helen . . . Mmmm . . . Helen of Alloy.\u201d
\n\u201cNot much swing to that, Dave. Too many unstressed syllables in the middle. How about Helen O\u2019Loy?\u201d
\n\u201cHelen O\u2019Loy she is, Phil.\u201d And that\u2019s how it began\u2014one part beauty, one part dream, one part science; add a stereo broadcast, stir mechanically, and the result is chaos.\u00a0 p. 42<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Initially the story has the two men try to upgrade an existing domestic robot before giving up and ordering Helen. However, after they modify the new arrival, she\/it later watches various romances on TV, etc., and develops a clingy, over-needy love for Dave. He is eventually so ground down by Helen that he leaves to run a fruit ranch.
\nWhen the other character, Phil, has to suffer the Helen\u2019s emotional fallout over Dave\u2019s departure, he calls him to say that he is going to replace her\/its coils. Dave has a volte-face, and comes and picks up Helen.
\nThey live happily together until Dave dies, when Phil gets a letter from Helen:<\/p>\n

Dear Phil,
\nAs you know, Dave has had heart trouble for several years now. We expected him to live on just the same, but it seems that wasn\u2019t to be. He died in my arms just before sunrise. He sent you his greetings and farewell.
\nI\u2019ve one last favor to ask of you, Phil. There is only one thing for me to do when this is finished. Acid will burn out metal as well as flesh, and I\u2019ll be dead with Dave. Please see that we are buried together, and that the morticians do not find my secret. Dave wanted it that way, too.
\nPoor, dear Phil. I know you loved Dave as a brother, and how you felt about me. Please don\u2019t grieve too much for us, for we have had a happy life together, and both feel that we should cross this last bridge side by side.
\nWith love and thanks from,
\nHelen\u00a0 p. 51<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A poignant ending to the story.
\nGoing beyond the synopsis, this is one of three stories in the anthology (the van Vogt and the Goodwin are the others) that cause the red mist to descend in many modern readers, who take great exception at the supposedly chauvinist portrayal of Helen (Beverly Friend: \u201ca blatant statement of woman as mere appendage to man\u2014a walking, talking doll who performs better as an android then she could possibly do as a human\u201d; Peter Nicholls: \u201ca classic of sexist sf\u201d, \u201cone of the most unconsciously disgusting stories in the genre\u201d.)4<\/sup>
\nIf you want to be angry at this story I guess that there is enough here for you to do so\u2014there is, at points, conflation of \u201cdomestic robot\u201d and \u201cwoman,\u201d not to mention comments about Helen\u2019s beauty, etc. On the other hand, it\u2019s also worth noting that, to begin with, the pair only want a utility robot to keep house\u2014the choice of a female chassis is an afterthought, and picked because the previous model was a \u201cfeminine\u201d one. And, up until two pages before the end of the story, the men are still explicitly referring to Helen as a robot<\/em>\u2014they do not see her as a woman, or certainly not entirely. It\u2019s only in the last couple of pages that their perception of her flips and. up until that point, I suspect that Helen is meant to be seen as a slightly wonky machine\u2014A Proud Robot<\/em>, if you will. Further, what Helen becomes after watching the TV soaps and reading cheap fiction isn\u2019t at any point portrayed as what Phil and Dave want in either a robot or an \u201cideal woman\u201d\u2014far from it: if anything they both find Helen something of a nuisance, yet they fall for her in the end.
\nIt\u2019s also worth remembering that this story was bashed out over an afternoon over eighty years ago, partly for the money, not as a literary statement about sexual politics, and it reflects the attitudes of the time. As to why contemporary readers liked it, I\u2019d guess it was because (a) it\u2019s a lightweight piece with a sentimental ending and (b) the thought of a female robot seemed pretty cool to its teenage readers (and for neat tech rather than misogynistic reasons).
\nIf the del Rey story pulls the volume part of the way into the modern age of SF, then The Roads Must Roll <\/em><\/strong>by Robert A. Heinlein (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, June 1940), which I\u2019ve reviewed here previously, completes the job. This novelette is set in a America crisis-crossed by high speed moving walkways introduced after the use of cars became untenable because of congestion, among other reasons:<\/p>\n

They contained the seeds of their own destruction. Seventy million steel juggernauts, operated by imperfect human beings at high speed, are more destructive than war.\u00a0 p. 58<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Told from the viewpoint of Chief Engineer Gaines, who is showing a visiting Australian politician around, this tells of a rebellion by Functionalist inspired workers who shut down the high speed 100 mph lane of the rolling roads but leave the other slower lanes running. Gaines and his guest are at a restaurant situated on this strip when it comes to a halt. They go outside to see what is happening on the stationary roadway:<\/p>\n

The crowd surged, and pushed against a middle-aged woman on its outer edge. In attempting to recover her balance she put one foot over the edge of the flashing ninety-five-mile strip. She realized her gruesome error, for she screamed before her foot touched the ribbon.
\nShe spun around and landed heavily on the moving strip, and was rolled by it, as the strip attempted to impart to her mass, at one blow, a velocity of ninety-five miles per hour\u2014one hundred and thirty-nine feet per second. As she rolled she mowed down some of the cardboard figures as a sickle strikes a stand of grass. Quickly, she was out of sight, her identity, her injuries, and her fate undetermined, and already remote.
\nBut the consequences of her mishap were not done with. One of the flickering cardboard figures bowled over by her relative moment fell toward the hundred-mile strip, slammed into the shockbound crowd, and suddenly appeared as a live man\u2014but broken and bleeding\u2014amidst the luckless, fallen victims whose bodies had checked his wild flight.\u00a0 p. 65<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The rest of the story is an exciting account of Gaines and the paramilitary transport engineers putting down the revolution.
\nI\u2019d have to say that the rolling roads idea isn\u2019t completely convincing at first but it grows on you as the story develops and, by the time I finished the passage above, I was hooked! If I have one minor criticism of this it is the slightly unconvincing climactic encounter between the ring-leader, Van Kleeck, and Gaines which, by the way, echoes If This Goes On\u2014<\/em>\u00a0in that Gaines uses psychological information from his opponent\u2019<\/em>s personnel file to manipulate him. Another similarity to that other story is a reference to mob psychology:<\/p>\n

Personnel did not behave erratically without a reason. One man might be unpredictable, but in large numbers personnel were as dependable as machines, or figures.\u00a0 p. 81<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The best story in the book so far.
\nMicrocosmic God <\/em><\/strong>by Theodore Sturgeon5<\/sup> (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, April 1941) is a story I\u2019ve read before but didn\u2019t remember and, when I reread it here, I realised that may be because George R. R. Martin\u2019s superior Sandkings<\/em> has replaced it in my memory.
\nSturgeon\u2019s piece tells the story of Kidder, a genius scientist who moves to a remote island and breeds a race of miniature beings, called Neoterics, which live and evolve much more rapidly than humans. Kidder does this so he can harvest their inventions and, initially, Conant, his sole human contact at the bank, is pleased. However, Conant wants more than his job as President of the company\u2014he is a man with political ambitions, and so asks Kidder to invent a new power source. When Kidder does so, but announces he isn\u2019t going to pursue it, Conant arrives on the island with a couple of thugs and takes the device. He then tells Kidder to build a power plant, or the island will be bombed. Conant later blackmails the President and mounts a coup d\u2019\u00e9tat, something that Kidder overhears via the bugged radio device he uses to communicate with Conant.
\nParallel to this we learn about the development of the Neoterics (improved by the regular genocides Kidder commits to improve the quality of his stock), and the religion that they develop to worship their creator. Towards the end of the story (spoiler) Kidder instructs the Neoterics to create a force shield, and they are eventually cut-off from the world.
\nThis isn\u2019t a bad story\u2014in fact parts of it are pretty good\u2014but it\u2019s not a classic. The extended opening section, which gives an account of Kidder\u2019s (and Conant\u2019s associated) rise, is just a data dump, and far too much of the story is concerned with pulp power-play shenanigans between the two men. It\u2019s pretty obvious that the average SF reader\u2019s interest would be in the sections of the story that concern the Neoterics, an area that George R. R. Martin focused on more in his later tale. What is also notable in the two stories is the cruelty shown by both men to their creations. In the Martin story, if I recall correctly, this is shown as a negative character trait, whereas in the Sturgeon it isn\u2019t commented upon at all. Different times.
\nNightfall <\/em><\/strong>by Isaac Asimov (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, September 1941) is the story that, historically, has always come top of polls for the best SF short story (for one such example, see the list above). Set on the planet Lagash, where is perpetually daylight (it is in a solar system with six suns), the story concerns Aton 77\u2019s reports on the upcoming eclipse of Beta, the one remaining sun in the sky at that point in the planetary cycle. This eclipse will cause complete darkness on the planet, an unknown phenomenon for the people who live there.
\nTheremon 762, a reporter who is following the story, tries to get an interview with Aton 77 at the observatory, but the latter angrily refuses due to previous unflattering articles. Theremon ends up talking to a psychologist called Sheerin and, while the astronomers prepare for the eclipse, the two talking heads discuss a number of matters: the unseen and hitherto unknown dark planet that will cause the eclipse; what will happen to members of their race when they experience total darkness (insanity); archaeological records which suggest that previous civilizations have risen and fallen according to a two thousand and forty nine year cycle\u2014something that matches up with the Cult\u2019s Book of Revelations<\/em>;\u00a0and so on.
\nThese building blocks are all skilfully deployed before events start spiralling out of control. Then, two astronomers return from a failed darkness experiment that did not yield the expected results, and a Cultist breaks in and smashes the astronomers\u2019 \u201cheretical\u201d photographic plates. Theremon and Sheerin still have time, however, for a quick conversation about how the Cultists managed to get the information for their Book of Revelations<\/em>, a passage that amusingly shows Asimov\u2019s atheism at work:<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do the Cultists manage to keep the \u2018Book of Revelations\u2019 going from cycle to cycle, and how on Lagash did it get written in the first place? There must have been some sort of immunity, for if everyone had gone mad, who would be left to write the book?\u201d
\nSheerin stared at his questioner ruefully. \u201cWell, now, young man, there isn\u2019t any eyewitness answer to that, but we\u2019ve got a few damned good notions as to what happened. You see, there are three kinds of people who might remain relatively unaffected. First, the very few who don\u2019t see the Stars at all; the blind, those who drink themselves into a stupor at the beginning of the eclipse and remain so to the end. We leave them out\u2014because they aren\u2019t really witnesses.
\n\u201cThen there are children below six, to whom the world as a whole is too new and strange for them to be too frightened at Stars and Darkness. They would be just another item in an already surprising world. You see that, don\u2019t you?\u201d
\nThe other nodded doubtfully. \u201cI suppose so.\u201d
\n\u201cLastly, there are those whose minds are too coarsely grained to be entirely toppled. The very insensitive would be scarcely affected\u2014oh, such people as some of our older, work-broken peasants. Well, the children would have fugitive memories, and that, combined with the confused, incoherent babblings of the half-mad morons, formed the basis for the \u2018Book of Revelations.\u2019
\n\u201cNaturally, the book was based, in the first place, on the testimony of those least qualified to serve as historians; that is, children and morons; and was probably extensively edited and re-edited through the cycles.\u201d\u00a0 pp. 132-133<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The story ends (spoiler) with the eclipse starting, a mob approaching from the city, and all the astronomers going mad because of the darkness . . . and the millions of stars that become visible.
\nIt\u2019s a very good, if uneven piece, whether or not you entirely buy the idea of darkness and stars causing madness.
\nOf the five remaining stories, the only one I haven\u2019t reviewed previously is First Contact <\/em><\/strong>by Murray Leinster (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, May 1945), so I\u2019ll comment on that now and cut and paste the other reviews in afterwards.
\nLeinster\u2019s story opens onboard an FTL space ship on an exploration trip to a star in the Crab Nebula. There, Tommy Dort, the navigator, has just finished taking a series of photos showing its development over 4000 years when the crew detect another ship coming towards them\u2014a first contact with aliens. Both ships come to a halt at some distance from each other, and the alien ship sends an object to the halfway point between them. Dort\u2019s captain (something of a drama queen) asks Dort to go and examine it. He finds that the aliens have sent out a viewing screen, so his captain does the same, and the two sides begin communicating.
\nThroughout all this an atmosphere of paranoia reigns throughout the ship\u2014Dort\u2019s captain doesn\u2019t want to reveal, by turning tail and heading for home, or by being captured, where Earth is\u2014for fear of an alien invasion. When the Earth crew finally communicate with the other ship they find the aliens have similar concerns. The rest of the story revolves around the further communications between the ships (including a friendship that develops between Tommy and one of the aliens he calls \u201cBuck\u201d), and the plan that Dort comes up with to let both ships go home.
\nThis has a number of things that don\u2019t work that well, the first of which is the suspicious and adversarial setup between the humans and the aliens: the latter seem too much like us (and if this had appeared a few years later, it would be easy to view the encounter as a thinly veiled Cold War standoff). I also found the ending unlikely and contrived (spoiler: both sides plan to blow up each other\u2019s ships unless they agree to a mutual exchange). Finally, the two non-experts dispatched to deal with the translation problem do so far too quickly.
\nOn the other hand, this story some good astronomical description:<\/p>\n

The nebula itself was the result of the most titanic explosion of which men have any knowledge. The explosion took place sometime in the year 2946 B. C., before the first of the seven cities of long-dead Ilium was even thought of. The light of that explosion reached Earth in the year 1054 A. D., and was duly recorded in ecclesiastic annals and somewhat more reliably by Chinese court astronomers. It was bright enough to be seen in daylight for twenty-three successive days. Its light\u2014and it was four thousand light-years away\u2014was brighter than that of Venus.
\nFrom these facts, astronomers could calculate nine hundred years later the violence of the detonation. Matter blown away from the center of the explosion would have traveled outward at the rate of two million three hundred thousand miles an hour; more than thirty-eight thousand miles a minute; something over six hundred thirty-eight miles per second. When twentieth-century telescopes were turned upon the scene of this vast explosion, only a double star remained\u2014and the nebula. The brighter star of the doublet was almost unique in having so high a surface temperature that it showed no spectrum lines at all. It had a continuous spectrum.
\nSol\u2019s surface temperature is about 7,000\u00b0 Absolute. That of the hot white star is 500,000 degrees. It has nearly the mass of the sun, but only one fifth its diameter, so that its density is one hundred seventy-three times that of water, sixteen times that of lead, and eight times that of iridium\u2014the heaviest substance known on Earth. But even this density is not that of a dwarf white star like the companion of Sirius. The white star in the Crab Nebula is an incomplete dwarf; it is a star still in the act of collapsing. Examination\u2014including the survey of a four-thousand-year column of its light\u2014was worthwhile. The Llanvabon had come to make that examination.\u00a0 pp. 259-260<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The first of the other four previously reviewed stories is The Weapon Shop <\/em><\/strong>by A. E. van Vogt (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, December 1942).
\nThis begins with an opening paragraph that gives us several pieces of information:<\/p>\n

The village at night made a curiously timeless picture. Fara walked contentedly beside his wife along the street. The air was like wine; and he was thinking dimly of the artist who had come up from Imperial City, and made what the telestats called\u2014he remembered the phrase vividly\u2014\u201ca symbolic painting reminiscent of a scene in the electrical age of seven thousand years ago.\u201d\u00a0 p. 144<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

However, the couple\u2019s pleasant evening walk is interrupted when Fara notices a newly opened Weapon Shop in a side street. Fara, a loyal supporter of the Empress, is enraged at this desecration of his timeless home by an organisation that does not recognise her authority. As a crowd gathers outside the shop he becomes even angrier when neither the townspeople nor the constable take any action. The latter states it is impossible to break into the shops, so Fara goes home and returns with an atomic cutting torch, which fails to get them inside.
\nThen one of the bystanders states that the Weapon Shop doors only open for those who will not harm the occupants and Fara, though he ridicules the statement, reaches forward and attempts to open the door. It opens. However, when he urges the constable go inside and arrest the owners, the door slams shut again. Fara grabs the doorknob once more, which gives us one of the story\u2019s great images:<\/p>\n

Fara stared stupidly at his hand, which was still clenched. And then, slowly, a hideous thrill coursed along his nerves. The knob had\u2014withdrawn. It had twisted, become viscous, and slipped amorphously from his straining fingers. Even the memory of that brief sensation gave him a feeling of unnormal things.\u00a0 p. 149<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He tries the handle again but the door remains locked, and then his mood rapidly changes from anger to fear as he realises that maybe even the soldiers of the empress would be powerless in this situation. At that point he tries the handle again, and this time gains entry.
\nInside the shop more unsettling events await Fara. He meets a silver-haired man and, quickly collecting himself, Fara tells him he wants to buy a gun for hunting. He is met with a recitation of the bye-laws that the Weapon Shops impose with respect to the use of their weapons (they can only be used defensively, or for hunting). When Fara eventually gets hold of a gun he turns it on the silver-haired man. The latter barely reacts, but starts discussing Fara with a man standing at the rear of the shop. They conclude that his one-sided outlook about the Empire would be difficult to change, and finish by showing him a disturbing vision of the Empress in the metropolis arranging for the murder of one of her ex-lovers. Fara is then ejected out of a side door. Worse is to come: when Fara gets home he finds out that the Weapon Shop has put out black propaganda on the telestat about him being the shop\u2019s first customer.
\nAll of this is a great start to the story: having started with a couple enjoying a bucolic evening walk in the village, we are quickly introduced to the enigmatic Weapon Shops and their near magical technology, and also shown the dark underbelly of the ruling Empire.
\nThe subsequent narrative arc (multiple spoilers) has Fara slowly fall from grace: his son (there is ongoing familial strife that helps ground the story) ends up taking a huge amount of money from his account. Fara takes a loan from the bank to cover this and then loses his business to a large competitor when they buy the loan and foreclose.
\nAfter the local court treats him badly, and his mother-in-law refuses to offer any financial support, he ends up going to back to the Weapon Shop to buy\u00a0a gun so he can commit suicide. After\u00a0his purchase he finds himself transported to the off-world site and finds himself standing in front of a huge machine:<\/p>\n

A machine, oh, a machine\u2014
\nHis brain lifted up, up in his effort to grasp the tremendousness of the dull-metaled immensity of what was spread here under a summer sun beneath a sky as blue as a remote southern sea.
\nThe machine towered into the heavens, five great tiers of metal, each a hundred feet high; and the superbly streamlined five hundred feet ended in a peak of light, a gorgeous spire that tilted straight up a sheer two hundred feet farther, and matched the very sun for brightness.
\nAnd it was a machine, not a building, because the whole lower tier was alive with shimmering lights, mostly green, but sprinkled colorfully with red and occasionally a blue and yellow.\u00a0 \u00a0Twice, as Fara watched, green lights directly in front of him flashed unscintillatingly into red.
\nThe second tier was alive with white and red lights, although there were only a fraction as many lights as on the lowest tier. The third section had on its dull-metal surface only blue and yellow lights; they twinkled softly here and\u00a0there over the vast area.
\nThe fourth tier was a series of signs, that brought the beginning of comprehension. The whole sign was:
\nWHITE \u2014 BIRTHS
\nRED \u2014 DEATHS
\nGREEN \u2014 LIVING
\nBLUE \u2014 IMMIGRATION TO EARTH
\nYELLOW \u2014 EMIGRATION
\nThe fifth tier was also all sign, finally explaining :
\nPOPULATIONS
\nSOLAR SYSTEM 19,174,463,747
\nEARTH 11,193,247,361
\nMARS 1,097,298,604
\nVENUS 5,141,053,811
\nMOONS 1,742,863,971
\nThe numbers changed, even as he looked at them, leaping up and down, shifting below and above what they had first been. People were dying, being born, moving to Mars, to Venus, to the moons of Jupiter, to Earth\u2019s moon, and others coming back again, landing minute by minute in the thousands of spaceports. Life went on in its gigantic fashion\u2014and here was the stupendous record.\u00a0 pp. 169-170<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is a scene that has perhaps become more credible in the age of meta-data than it was when I first read it many years ago.
\nA passer-by tells Fara he is at the Weapon Shop courts. As Fara subsequently completes a number of\u00a0 interviews and court procedures, he receives justice and restitution for a conspiracy he was unaware of between the bank and the company that bought his shop. We also find out a lot more about the Weapon Shops and what they do.
\nThe most intriguing thing about this section is that Van Vogt doesn\u2019t go for the easy option of the Weapon Shops as a government-in-waiting, or a resistance movement waiting to usurp the Empress and take over power, but instead paints them as an near-omnipotent, altruistic and almost neutral organisation. As well as being warned about any future bad-mouthing of Her Majesty, they tell him:<\/p>\n

It is important to understand that we do not interfere in the main stream of human existence<\/em>. We right wrongs; we act as a barrier between the people and their more ruthless exploiters.
\n[. . .]
\nPeople always have the kind of government they want<\/em>. When they want change, they must change it. As always we shall remain an incorruptible core\u2014and I mean that literally; we have a psychological machine that never lies about a man\u2019s character\u2014I repeat, an incorruptible core of human idealism, devoted to relieving the ills that arise inevitably under any form of government.\u00a0 p. 176<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I liked this story a lot, in particular its almost dreamlike progression. One of his best.
\nMimsy Were the Borogoves <\/em><\/strong>by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, February 1943) starts off with a similar time-travel idea to the earlier The Twonky <\/em>(Astounding<\/em>, September 1942). In this story a man from millions of years in the future sends two experimental time machines back into the past, using his children\u2019s cast-off educational toys as ballast. One of the machines\u2014an odd looking box\u2014is found in 1942 by a seven-year old boy called Scott playing hooky from school.
\nInitially the events in the story are those you would expect from an archetypal two-parent, two-child family situation and all that entails (the odd questions children ask, the illegible scribbles that Scott\u2019s two year old sister Emma writes, and that he can understand but the adults can\u2019t, etc.). Eventually the parents begin to notice the children\u2019s increasingly odd behaviour, especially in their interactions with the strange toys:<\/p>\n

\u201cAny homework?\u201d
\n\u201cN-no,\u201d Scott said, flushing guiltily. To cover his embarrassment he took from his pocket a gadget he had found in the box, and began to unfold it. The result resembled a tesseract, strung with beads. Paradine didn\u2019t see it at first, but Emma did. She wanted to play with it.
\n\u201cNo. Lay off, Slug,\u201d Scott ordered. \u201cYou can watch me.\u201d He fumbled with the beads, making soft, interested noises. Emma extended a fat forefinger and yelped.
\n\u201cScotty,\u201d Paradine said warningly.
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t hurt her.\u201d
\n\u201cBit me. It did,\u201d Emma mourned.
\nParadine looked up. He frowned, staring. What in\u2014
\n\u201cIs that an abacus?\u201d he asked. \u201cLet\u2019s see it, please.\u201d
\nSomewhat unwillingly Scott brought the gadget across to his father\u2019s chair. Paradine blinked. The \u201cabacus,\u201d unfolded, was more than a foot square, composed of thin, rigid wires that interlocked here and there. On the wires the colored beads were strung. They could be slid back and forth, and from one support to another, even at the points of jointure. But\u2014a pierced bead couldn\u2019t cross interlocking wires\u2014
\nSo, apparently, they weren\u2019t pierced. Paradine looked closer. Each small sphere had a deep groove running around it, so that it could be revolved and slid along the wire at the same time. Paradine tried to pull one free. It clung as though magnetically. Iron? It looked more like plastic.
\nThe framework itself\u2014 Paradine wasn\u2019t a mathematician. But the angles formed by the wires were vaguely shocking, in their ridiculous lack of Euclidean logic. They were a maze. Perhaps that\u2019s what the gadget was\u2014a puzzle.\u00a0 p. 186<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The couple later become so concerned about their children\u2019s behaviour that Paradine asks a psychologist colleague called Holloway for help. Holloway causes them more disquiet with his rambling (and rather unlikely, to be honest) speculations that the toys are from elsewhere in space or time, his musings on non-Euclidean space, and lectures on how children think differently. He does, however, recommend that the toys are taken away from the two children.
\nHowever, the children\u2019s thought processes have gone past a critical point, and Emma, the two year old, gets Scott to start collecting various objects for her:<\/p>\n

Scott kept bringing gadgets to Emma for her approval. Usually she\u2019d shake her head. Sometimes she would look doubtful. Very occasionally she would signify agreement. Then there would be an hour of laborious, crazy scribbling on scraps of note paper, and Scott, after studying the notations, would arrange and rearrange his rocks, bits of machinery, candle ends, and assorted junk. Each day the maid cleaned them away, and each day Scott began again.
\nHe condescended to explain a little to his puzzled father, who could see no rhyme or reason in the game.
\n\u201cBut why this pebble right here?\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s hard and round, dad. It belongs there.\u201d
\n\u201cSo is this one hard and round.
\n\u201cWell, that\u2019s got vaseline on it. When you get that far, you can\u2019t see just a hard round thing.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat comes next? This candle?\u201d
\nScott looked disgusted. \u201cThat\u2019s toward the end. The iron ring\u2019s next.\u201d
\nIt was, Paradine thought, like a Scout trail through the woods, markers in a labyrinth. But here again was the random factor. Logic halted\u2014familiar logic\u2014at Scott\u2019s motives in arranging the junk as he did.
\nParadine went out. Over his shoulder he saw Scott pull a crumpled piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket, and head for Emma, who was squatted in a corner thinking things over.\u00a0 p. 206<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

There is another hint of what the toys are teaching the children to do (spoiler) in a later conversation between Paradine and Scott, when the boy asks about eels\u2019 and salmons\u2019 reproductive behaviour, where they lay their eggs, and why, when it is time to breed, they don\u2019t just \u201csend their eggs\u201d back. This is followed by more questions, concluding with one about why people live on Earth. When Paradine asks if he means \u201cAnd not the other planets?\u201d, he gets this chilling reply:<\/p>\n

Scott was hesitant. \u201cThis is only\u2014part\u2014of the big place. It\u2019s like the river where the salmon go. Why don\u2019t people go on down to the ocean when they grow up?\u201d
\nParadine realized that Scott was speaking figuratively. He felt a brief chill. The\u2014ocean?\u00a0 p. 205<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Before the climax of the story there is a short section which details what happened to the first time machine\/box sent into the past: this has\u00a0a girl telling her Uncle Charles a nonsense rhyme she has made up. The two are Charles Dodgson (\u201cLewis Carroll\u201d), and Alice Pleasance Liddell (the Alice of Alice in Wonderland<\/em>): the poem later produced is Jabberwocky<\/em>.7<\/sup> This sequence sets up the end of the story:<\/p>\n

Downstairs the telephone stopped its shrill, monotonous ringing. Paradine looked at the paper he held.
\nIt was a leaf torn from a book. There were interlineations and marginal notes, in Emma\u2019s meaningless scrawl. A stanza of verse had been so underlined and scribbled over that it was almost illegible, but Paradine was thoroughly familiar with \u201cThrough the Looking Glass.\u201d His memory gave him the words‍\u2014<\/span>
\n.<\/span>
\nTwas brillig, and the slithy toves
\nDid gyre and gimbel in the wabe.
\nAll mimsy were the borogoves,
\nAnd the mome raths outgrabe
\n.<\/span>
\nIdiotically he thought: Humpty Dumpty explained it. A wabe is the plot of grass around a sundial. A sundial. Time\u2014 It has something to do with time. A long time ago Scotty asked me what a wabe was. Symbolism.
\nTwas brillig\u2014<\/em>
\nA perfect mathematical formula, giving all the conditions, in symbolism the children had finally understood. The junk on the floor. The toves had to be made slithy\u2014vaseline?\u2014and they had to be placed in a certain relationship, so that they\u2019d gyre and gimbel.
\nLunacy!
\n<\/em>But it had not been lunacy to Emma and Scott. They thought differently. They used x logic. Those notes Emma had made on the page\u2014she\u2019d translated Carroll\u2019s words into symbols both she and Scott could understand. The random factor had made sense to the children. They had fulfilled the conditions of the time-span equation. And the mome raths outgrabe\u2014<\/em>
\nParadine made a rather ghastly little sound, deep in his throat. He looked at the crazy pattern on the carpet. If he could follow it, as the kids had done\u2014<\/span> But he couldn\u2019t. The pattern was senseless. The random factor defeated him. He was conditioned to Euclid.
\nEven if he went insane, he still couldn\u2019t do it. It would be the wrong kind of lunacy. His mind had stopped working now. But in a moment the stasis of incredulous horror would pass\u2014 Paradine crumpled the page in his fingers. \u201cEmma, Scotty,\u201d he called in a dead voice, as though he could expect no response.
\nSunlight slanted through the open windows, brightening the golden pelt of Mr. Bear. Downstairs the ringing of the telephone began again.\u00a0 p. 207-208<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is a story deserving of its classic status for its transcendent ending if nothing else. That said, it is a bit baggy in places (Holloway\u2019s comments are more discursive than needed) and, in general, it feels longer than necessary.
\nI note in passing that there are also some interesting and atypical observations about children8<\/sup>.
\nHuddling Place <\/em><\/strong>by Clifford D. Simak (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, July 1944) is the second in his \u2018City\u2019 series, and opens with Jerome A. Webster at the funeral of Nelson F. Webster in 2117. After this, we get an update on societal conditions:<\/p>\n

John J., the first John J., had come after the breakup of the cities, after men had forsaken, once and for all, the twentieth century huddling places, had broken free of the tribal instinct to stick together in one cave or in one clearing against a common foe or a common fear. An instinct that had become outmoded, for there were no fears or foes. Man revolting against the herd instinct economic and social conditions had impressed upon him in ages past. A new security and a new sufficiency had made it possible to break away.
\nThe trend had started back in the twentieth century, more than two hundred years before, when men moved to country homes to get fresh air and elbow room and a graciousness in life that communal existence, in its strictest sense, never had given them.
\nAnd here was the end result. A quiet living. A peace that could only come with good things. The sort of life that men had yearned for years to have. A manorial existence, based on old family homes and leisurely acres, with atomics supplying power and robots in place of serfs.\u00a0 p. 212<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The story continues with Webster in his study, where he has a virtual teleconference with Juwain, a philosopher friend who lives on Mars. They discuss Webster\u2019s reluctance to visit him there, and also Webster\u2019s son\u2019s upcoming visit to the planet. When Webster later goes to see his son depart at the spaceport he has an agoraphobia attack and, as he tries to get Jenkins to arrange transport home, he is told that his father and grandfather suffered the same condition.
\nThe rest of the story pivots around Webster\u2019s condition. He writes an article pointing out that almost no-one wants to leave home nowadays. Then (spoiler), an old acquaintance called Claybourne calls from Mars, and tells Webster, a surgeon, that he is needed to perform an life-saving operation on Juwain. Webster says he can\u2019t come, but Claybourne says that Juwain is on the verge of a philosophical breakthrough that is vital to humanity, and that a ship will come to pick him up.
\nWebster packs for the trip and tries to control his agoraphobia. After he has been waiting for some time, Jenkins tells him that two men arrived earlier to pick him up, but the robot told them that Webster couldn\u2019t possibly go. The story ends with this:<\/p>\n

Webster stiffened, felt chill fear gripping at his heart. Hands groping for the edge of the desk, he sat down in the chair, sensed the walls of the room closing in about him, a trap that would never let him go.\u00a0 p. 224<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Arena <\/em><\/strong>by Fredric Brown (Astounding Science-Fiction<\/em>, June 1944) opens with Carson, a scout ship pilot, engaging an alien Outsider warship beyond the orbit of Pluto\u2014then he wakes up naked, lying on blue sand under a blue dome, and notices a red spherical object in the distance.
\nCarson hears a disembodied voice which says that the speaker, an alien super-being, chanced upon the human and the Outsider fleets about to destroy each other. Rather than allowing this mutual destruction to occur (neither the human race or Outsiders would win outright, and both races would be left crippled by the encounter), the super-being decrees that Carson and an Outsider (the red sphere) will engage in single combat: the loser\u2019s race will be annihilated, leaving the victor\u2019s unscathed.
\nThe rest of the story tells of the fight between the Carson and the Outsider, which starts when the \u201cRoller\u201d moves towards him but is stopped by a force field. The pair throw rocks at each other for a while, and then the Outsider lobs a decapitated blue lizard which it caught and killed.
\nAs the rest of the story unfolds, Carson becomes increasingly weak and thirsty, and makes an unsuccessful attempt at negotiating peace (Carson can sense the Outsider\u2019s malevolent emotions in response). He also experiments to see what will pass through the force field. Eventually, Carson passes out, but comes round again when one of the lizards in the dome approaches him:<\/p>\n

\u201cHello,\u201d said the voice.
\nIt was a small, thin voice. It sounded like\u2014
\nHe opened his eyes and turned his head. It was a lizard.
\n\u201cGo away,\u201d Carson wanted to say. \u201cGo away; you\u2019re not really there, or you\u2019re there but not really talking. I\u2019m imagining things again.\u201d
\nBut he couldn\u2019t talk; his throat and tongue were past all speech with the dryness. He closed his eyes again.
\n\u201cHurt,\u201d said the voice. \u201cKill. Hurt\u2014kill. Come.\u201d
\nHe opened his eyes again. The blue ten-legged lizard was still there.
\nIt ran a little way along the barrier, came back, started off again, and came back.
\n\u201cHurt,\u201d it said. \u201cKill. Come.\u201d
\nAgain it started off, and came back. Obviously it wanted Carson to follow it along the barrier.
\nHe closed his eyes again. The voice kept on. The same three meaningless words. Each time he opened his eyes, it ran off and came back.
\n\u201cHurt. Kill. Come.\u201d
\nCarson groaned. There would be no peace unless he followed the blasted thing. Like it wanted him to.
\nHe followed it, crawling. Another sound, a high-pitched squealing, came to his ears and grew louder.
\nThere was something lying in the sand, writhing, squealing. Something small, blue, that looked like a lizard and yet didn\u2019t\u2014
\nThen he saw what it was\u2014the lizard whose legs the Roller had pulled off, so long ago. But it wasn\u2019t dead; it had come back to life and was wriggling and screaming in agony.
\n\u201cHurt,\u201d said the other lizard. \u201cHurt. Kill. Kill.\u201d
\nCarson understood. He took the flint knife from his belt and killed the tortured creature. The live lizard scurried off quickly.\u00a0 pp. 244-245<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Carson (spoiler) then has an epiphany about the nature of the force-field, and renders himself temporarily unconscious to get through the force field.
\nThis is an inventive and entertaining story, and is much better than the later\u00a0Star Trek<\/em>\u00a0episode (which made Brown\u2019s story more famous today than it might otherwise have been).9<\/sup><\/p>\n

In conclusion, a mixed bag of stories, and one selected by parochial10<\/sup> (none of their choices comes from outside the American SF magazines) and rose coloured spectacle-wearing voters. A better choice of anthology would be the Asimov and Greenberg\u2019s Best Science Fiction<\/em> series, whose 25 volumes run from 1938 to 1963. God knows that is far from perfect, but the series will give you a better idea of what the field\u2019s best stories are than this.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

1. Lester del Rey one of the contributors, begins his review (If<\/em>, September-October 1970) with some interesting history:<\/p>\n

Back in 1946, when only a few fan publishers were trying to bring out science fiction, Random House issued Adventures in Time and Space<\/em>, edited by Raymond J. Healy and J. Francis McComas. It was a huge book, containing 997 pages of fiction, totaling almost half a million words. There were 35 stories, culled from the virgin territory of all the science-fiction magazine work published to that date. And it sold, as I remember, for $2.95!
\nWhenever librarians ask me to submit a list of science-fiction books they should stock, this ancient anthology heads the list. Until very recently, at least, it was still available in the Modern Library edition (under a different title\u2014Famous Science Fiction<\/em>, I believe\u2014and less a couple of stories that don\u2019t matter that much). It\u2019s a book that should still be on the shelves of every genuine fan of the field; if you don\u2019t have it, get it-new or secondhand, it\u2019s still a great bargain.
\nDuring the same year another anthology appeared\u2014this edited by Groff Conklin and put out by Crown Publishers: The Best of Science Fiction<\/em>. It wasn\u2019t quite the huge bargain the first was and Groff had sometimes been unable to get the stories he wanted because they were already purchased for the earlier book. But its success in the market and in sales to libraries also helped to convince publishers that there was money to be made in this crazy field.
\nSince then there have been hordes of anthologies. Some, like Groff Conklin\u2019s excellent later ones, were gathered with love and by means of diligent reading of the magazines. Some were put together shoddily by mining earlier anthologies. A few have been simply excuses to get stories by a clique into print. p. 64<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Ah, the \u201cclique\u201d comment will be him have another go at the Orbit<\/em> series, edited by Damon Knight (see footnote 2 below). He goes on to have a moan about current theme anthologies and those with \u201cextraneous\u201d matter to pad out them out.
\nWhen he finally gets around to this volume he says, \u201cI\u2019m forced to give it a rave review on its merits\u201d, and goes on to add:<\/p>\n

Silverberg did the work of collating their responses and the present book represents his efforts at putting together the results of the summed judgment of the professionals in the field. He did his work brilliantly and I cannot but agree with the few cases where he admitted to the need of some personal weighing of the results.\u00a0 p. 65<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He adds this about the voting in the first few years of the Nebula:<\/p>\n

Actually they\u2019re a lot better in my opinion than some of the stories that have won [the Nebula Award]\u2014and represent a far more balanced judgment. Apparently time and distance have removed the personal angles that must so often motivate the voting for current awards, and the result is a list of some genuine classics.\u00a0 p. 66<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He would say that of course, as this volume has no New Wave stories (again, see the comment from Judy del Rey in footnote 2 below).
\nOf the stories themselves he says that Weinbaum\u2019s A Martian Odyssey<\/em> is \u201crevolutionary\u201d, that Campbell\u2019s Twilight<\/em> inspired his first fan letter. Sturgeon\u2019s Microcosmic God<\/em> is del Rey\u2019s favourite Sturgeon piece, but that he agrees with Asimov that he has written better stories than Nightfall<\/em>. Van Vogt\u2019s story \u201chas some of his best writing and, in my opinion, all of his best characterization,\u201d and Mimsy Were the Borogoves<\/em> \u201cwas something of a key story also, since there were a number of imitations in handling and intent to follow that.\u201d Before coming to an end he comments that \u201cThe next decade from 1944 to 1953 seems to be more a period of consolidation\u201d before singling out Scanners Live in Vain<\/em> as \u201cone great innovation.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Algis Budrys review (Galaxy, December 1970<\/a><\/em>) is also interesting, because I\u2019m not quite sure whether he liked the volume or not, especially when he comes out with comments like this:<\/p>\n

Then we have several stories that are outright stunts; venture to say duds That Only a Mother<\/em>, Born of Man and Woman<\/em>, Mars is Heaven!<\/em> and The Nine Billion Names of God<\/em>. (The Star<\/em> placed 15th<\/sup> in overall standings, and is Clarke at his best short-story level, only one cut below his talent as a novelist. But Nine Billion<\/em> placed eleventh and is therefore exhumed here. This my stomach cannot reconcile with any pretense of a professional appraisal).\u00a0 p. 94<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

P. Schuyler Miller (Analog Science Fiction\/Science Fact, March 1971<\/a><\/em>) says this:<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t think good early science fiction is adequately represented\u2014 there are only three stories published before 1940\u2014but the book was deliberately planned as a definitive anthology of modern SF. Stanley Weinbaum\u2019s \u201cA Martian Odyssey,\u201d John Campbell\u2019s \u201cTwilight,\u201d and Lester del Rey\u2019s \u201cHelen O\u2019Loy\u201d are certainly as modem as anything published today.
\nMy judgment doesn\u2019t always match the judgment of my peers. I can\u2019t see choosing Bradbury\u2019s \u201cMars Is Heaven\u201d over \u201cThere Will Come Soft Rains.\u201d I\u2019d have picked Van Vogt\u2019s \u201cBlack Destroyer\u201d over \u201cThe Weapon Shop,\u201d and I\u2019d have preferred a couple of Cordwainer Smith\u2019s other stories to \u201cScanners Live in Vain,\u201d which was his first.\u00a0 p. 171<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

George Turner, SF Commentary, #23<\/a><\/em> takes issue with several of the choices (although, to be honest, his aren\u2019t much better) before observing:<\/p>\n

All of which impels me to stick my neck out and make a guess; that the voters, who are all sf writers, did what you and I might do under the same circumstances\u2014picked the tales which lingered in the memory rather than got down to business and really winnowed out the best.
\nThus Blish is predictably represented by Surface Tension<\/em> (whose popularity has always puzzled him, so he says). But where, oh where, is the much more subtly marvellous Common Time<\/em>? Shame upon the SFWA!\u00a0 p. 13<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Finally, Colin Harvey\u2019s piece in Strange Horizons, 15 March 2004<\/a><\/em> is worth a skim for a more modern take on the book.<\/p>\n

2. The SFWA has, at various times in its history, been as dodgy an electorate as any other\u2014as one can see from the high correlation of peculiar winners to individuals holding office in the organisation (who conveniently had access to the mailing list of members)\u2014and that\u2019s before you factor in the tendency for a group of professionals to engage in \u201cBuggins\u2019 Turn\u201d (see the Wikipedia<\/a> article).
\nLet us also not forget that roughly the same set of voters made sure that the 1971 Nebula Award short story result was \u201cNo Award\u201d so that none of the \u201cNew Wave\u201d nominees would win, a partisan act that led to the mortifying scene where Isaac Asimov announced Gene Wolfe\u2019s The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories<\/em> as the winner at the Nebula Awards before having to correct himself.
\nAs Gardner Dozois recalls in Jo Walton\u2019s An Informal History of the Hugos<\/em>:<\/p>\n

I was there, sitting at Gene Wolfe\u2019s table, in fact. He\u2019d actually stood up, and was starting to walk toward the podium, when Isaac was told about his mistake. Gene shrugged and sat down quietly, like the gentleman he is, while Isaac stammered an explanation of what had happened. It was the one time I ever saw Isaac totally flustered, and, in fact, he felt guilty about the incident to the end of his days.
\nIt\u2019s bullshit that this was the result of confusing ballot instructions. This was the height of the War of the New Wave, and passions between the New Wave camp and the conservative Old Guard camp were running high. (The same year, Michael Moorcock said in a review that the only way SFWA could have found a worse thing than Ringworld<\/em> to give the Nebula to was to give it to a comic book.) The fact that the short story ballot was almost completely made up of stuff from Orbit<\/em> [Damon Knight\u2019s anthology series] had outraged the Old Guard, particularly James Sallis\u2019s surreal \u201cThe Creation of Bennie Good,\u201d and they block-voted for No Award as a protest against \u201cnonfunctional word patterns\u201d making the ballot. Judy-Lynn del Rey told me as much immediately after the banquet, when she was exuberantly gloating about how they\u2019d \u201cput Orbit<\/em> in its place\u201d with the voting results, and actually said, \u201cWe won!\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Are those the kind of people you would trust to make an informed and dispassionate vote?<\/p>\n

3. I liked the Weinbaum better the first time I read it in 1980 or thereabouts. Here are the star ratings I awarded then in brackets for comparison:<\/p>\n

A Martian Odyssey <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Stanley G. Weinbaum \u2217<\/strong>\u00a0(\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nTwilight <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by John W. Campbell, Jr. \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>)
\nHelen O\u2019Loy <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Lester del Rey \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nThe Roads Must Roll <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Robert A. Heinlein \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nMicrocosmic God <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Theodore Sturgeon \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+ (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nNightfall <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Isaac Asimov \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+ (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nThe Weapon Shop <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by A. E. van Vogt \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nMimsy Were the Borogoves <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nHuddling Place <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Clifford D. Simak \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nArena <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Fredric Brown \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+ (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)
\nFirst Contact <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 novelette by Murray Leinster \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong> (\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>)<\/p>\n

As you can see, I\u2019m a softer touch nowadays.<\/p>\n

4. The damning comments about del Rey\u2019s story come from Dominick M. Grace’s Rereading Lester del Rey\u2019s \u201cHelen O\u2019Loy\u201d <\/em>(Science Fiction Studies<\/em> Vol. 20, No. 1, March 1993, pp. 45-51, and currently available for free on JSTOR<\/a>). If you want to read an essay where a story is over-analysed to the point that there is no connection left with the source, then this is for you.
\nLester del Rey says this of Helen O\u2019Loy<\/em> in the afterword to The Best of Lester del Rey<\/em>:<\/p>\n

What I say about them must be taken as the thoughts of a man writing of his favorite children\u2014since brain children are enshrined hi the heart almost as tenderly as are real offspring.
\nBest beloved of all\u2014since I do have favorites\u2014is \u201cHelen O\u2019Loy.\u201d This was the second story I sold, proving I was not a one-story author. It came easily, taking up only one pleasant afternoon of work and needing almost no rewriting; in fact, even the first paragraph came without effort, which is unusual for me. And out in the world, Helen has always brought me more than I could expect. After almost forty years, she still earns more than a dozen times annually what I was paid for her initial appearance, which indicates others also share my love for her. Her spirit remains unquenched, and I am well-pleased with the lady, to say the least.
\nIn those days of long ago, any sale to John W. Campbell was something of a triumph. His magazines were considered tops in the field, and he was gathering a stable of writers who have remained leaders down to the present. In my opinion then and now, he was one of the three greatest magazine editors of all time. I wrote as much for his approval as for payment; and I rarely thought of submitting my work to anyone else. To be considered one of his regulars was the ultimate achievement.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

5. There is a noticeable difference between Sturgeon\u2019s Microcosmic God<\/em> and the later Killdozer!<\/em> in terms of writing development and maturity. It\u2019s definitely from a different period.<\/p>\n

6. In Asimov\u2019s Nightfall<\/em> there is a jarring mention of Earth after Theremon first sees the stars:<\/p>\n

Not Earth\u2019s feeble thirty-six hundred Stars visible to the eye\u2014Lagash was in the center of a giant cluster. Thirty thousand mighty suns shown down in a soul-searing splendor that was more frighteningly cold in its awful indifference than the bitter wind that shivered across the cold, horribly bleak world.\u00a0 p. 142<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This was editor John W. Campbell\u2019s meddling, according to Asimov\u2019s biography In Memory Yet Green<\/em>, 1979:<\/p>\n

Yet in one respect, I must admit, I was dissatisfied with \u2018\u2018Nightfall.\u201d Campbell, finding my ending lacking, had inserted a paragraph of his own very near the end that was very effective but simply wasn\u2019t me. It has been praised as proof that I could write \u201cpoetically,\u201d which gravels me, since I don\u2019t want to write poetically; I only want to write clearly. Worst of all, Campbell thoughtlessly mentioned Earth in his paragraph. I had carefully refrained from doing so all through the story, since Earth did not exist within the context of the story. Its mention was a serious literary flaw.\u00a0 p. 313<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Exactly. What was Campbell thinking? (I almost said \u201cWhat on Earth was Campbell thinking?\u201d)<\/p>\n

7. Jabberwocky<\/em> can be read here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

8. Catherine Moore was pregnant around the time of the writing of this story, although her contributions to this piece were minimal. One wonders to what extent her pregnancy informed the observations about children (and the anxiety about them growing up different). There is no mention of any children on Moore\u2019s Wikipedia page<\/a>, and another FB source mentions that she suffered several miscarriages.<\/p>\n

9. The Arena<\/em>\u00a0episode of\u00a0Star Trek<\/em>\u2002was written before the discovery of Brown\u2019s story\u2014probably why it is so naff. The Wikipedia page for that episode is\u00a0here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

10. By calling the SFWA members \u201cparochial,\u201d I mean, where is (for example) Brian W. Aldiss\u2019s Old Hundredth<\/em>, Charles Harness\u2019s The Rose<\/em>, something by Ballard? And while I am about this volume\u2019s shortcomings, where is Walter Miller, Robert Sheckley, etc.?<\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: This British edition of the book is the first half of the larger volume. It contains a mixed bag of stories, with very good work from Robert A. Heinlein (his \u2018Future History\u2019 story, The Roads Must Roll), Henry Kuttner & C. L. Moore (the transcendent Mimsy Were the Borogoves) and A. E. van Vogt […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[55],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12855","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-anthologies-reprint"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-3ll","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12855","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12855"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12855\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13574,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12855\/revisions\/13574"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12855"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12855"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12855"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}