{"id":13488,"date":"2021-02-05T12:51:26","date_gmt":"2021-02-05T12:51:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=13488"},"modified":"2021-02-06T12:37:16","modified_gmt":"2021-02-06T12:37:16","slug":"orbit-1-edited-by-damon-knight-1966","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=13488","title":{"rendered":"Orbit #1, edited by Damon Knight, 1966"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\r\nSummary:\r\nGiven that Damon Knight read eight months worth of manuscripts for this anthology, it is a disappointment, and is probably of poorer quality than an average issue of F&SF<\/em> of the time. Only one of the stories, Keith Roberts\u2019 The Deeps<\/em>, is any good, and the rest are either partially broken (I\u2019d include the Nebula Award winning The Secret Place<\/em> by Richard McKenna in that group) or just generally mediocre.\r\n[ISFDB page<\/a>][Archive.org<\/a>]\r\n\r\nOther reviews:1<\/sup>\r\nAlgis Budrys, Galaxy, October 1966<\/a><\/em>\r\nJudith Merril, Fantasy and Science Fiction, September 1966<\/a><\/em>\r\nP. Schuyler Miller, Analog, January 1967<\/a><\/em>\r\nMichael Moorcock, New Worlds<\/em> #169, December 1966\r\nVarious, Goodreads<\/a>\r\n

_____________________<\/p>\r\nEditor, Damon Knight\r\n\r\nFiction:\r\nStaras Flonderans<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by Kate Wilhelm \u2217<\/strong>\r\nThe Secret Place<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by Richard McKenna \u2217\u2217<\/strong>\r\nHow Beautiful with Banners<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by James Blish \u2217\u2217<\/strong>\r\nThe Disinherited<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by Poul Anderson \u2217\u2217<\/strong>\r\nThe Loolies Are Here<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by Ruth Allison and Jane Rice [as by Allison Rice] \u2217<\/strong>\r\nKangaroo Court<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 novella by Virginia Kidd \u2217<\/strong>\r\nSplice of Life<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by Sonya Dorman \u2217<\/strong>\r\n5 Eggs <\/strong><\/em>\u2022 short story by Thomas M. Disch \u2217<\/strong>\r\nThe Deeps<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 short story by Keith Roberts \u2217\u2217\u2217<\/strong>\r\n\r\nNon-fiction:\r\nIntroduction <\/strong><\/em>\u2022 by Damon Knight\r\nStory introductions<\/strong><\/em> \u2022 by Damon Knight\r\n

_____________________<\/p>\r\nThis was the first volume of a long running anthology series started by Knight in 1966, and which would last for 21 volumes and until 1980. It would publish many Nebula Award winning stories (some deserving, some because the writers were part of the Milford writing course clique who dominated the voting). This volume is (I hope) one of the weaker entries.\r\n(The following reviews have already appeared on my sfshortstories.com site, so skim down to the three dots \u2022\u2022\u2022 for any non-fiction and concluding comments.)\r\n\r\nStaras Flonderans<\/strong><\/em> by Kate Wilhelm opens with two humans and a long-lived alien called Staeen closing in on a wrecked and tumbling spaceship that appears to be abandoned. Throughout their craft\u2019s approach to the wreck, which they intend to investigate, we learn various things about Staeen, including the fact that he is tulip-shaped, is very long lived, can survive unsuited in space, and is able to sense the men\u2019s emotions. Staeen also, in common with the rest of his race, feels a paternalistic concern for the men (who they call Flonderans):\r\n

When the Flonderans had come to Chlaesan, they had been greeted with friendliness and amusement. So eager, so impulsive, so childlike. The name Earthmen was rarely used for them; they remained the Flonderans, the children. It amused Staeen to think that when they had still been huddling in caves, more animal than man, his people already had mapped the galaxy; when they had been floundering with sails on rough seas, engrossed in mapping their small world, his people already had populated hundreds of planets, light-years away from one another.\u00a0 p. 14<\/blockquote>\r\nWhen the three of them go aboard the wreck they come to realise that the missing crew used all the lifeboats to abandon the ship, a course of action that would only have kept them alive for a few hours longer because of the limited oxygen carried. Mystified, they leave. However, when they return on a further search, Staeen picks up various vibes that make him realise that the crew left the ship \u201cin the madness of fear,\u201d but he does not tell the humans as he thinks they will not accept his discovery.\r\nThe final act of the story involves the three of them subsequently encountering a Thosar spaceship, a race who only pass through the galaxy every twelve thousand years, and who mankind have never come into contact with. Staeen explains to the men that the Thosars are huge creatures, and that they will send representatives to the ship but stay outside. When they get close enough to be seen (spoiler) the humans go into a blind panic and accelerate their ship away at a pace that almost kills the three of them. Staeen eventually manages to turn off the drive but, when the men come around, they get into their suits and flee through the airlock, dragging Staeen with them.\r\nStaeen then floats in space contemplating his demise, and concludes that the human\u2019s panic response must be down to a previous visit to Earth by the Thosars in prehistoric times, where they inadvertently terrified the primitive humans and some sort of genetic or race memory was laid down.\r\nThere is much to like in the first part of this story\u2014it is a readable example of a traditional SF tale, the kind of thing you could easily imagine finding in Analog<\/em>\u2014but the ending is just ridiculous. Apart from the fact that the reason for the human\u2019s terror is never specified (the Thosars have one eye and there is a brief mention of \u201cBi\u2014\u201d), you would hide in the ship if something terrified you, not jump out the airlock to a place you are even more exposed. And the generational chicken-fleeing-from-chickenhawk response that Staeen uses to explain the human\u2019s behaviour could not have been imprinted on mankind in one visit. It all just falls apart.\r\nPS According to Staeen, Staras eku Flonderans<\/em> means \u201cpoor, short-lived Earthmen.\u201d\r\n\u2217<\/strong> (Mediocre). 5,800 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nThe Secret Place<\/strong><\/em> by Richard McKenna has as its narrator a geologist called Duard Campbell, one of a team sent to a small town to search for a vein of uranium:\r\n

It began in 1931, when a local boy was found dead in the desert near Barker, Oregon. He had with him a sack of gold ore and one thumb-sized crystal of uranium oxide. The crystal ended as a curiosity in a Salt Lake City assay office until, in 1942, it became of strangely great importance. Army agents traced its probable origin to a hundred-square-mile area near Barker.\u00a0 p. 31<\/blockquote>\r\nAfter the team finds nothing (the whole area is overlaid by Miocene lava flows) Campbell is left behind to maintain a skeleton operation to keep the army happy. He is angry and feels betrayed by his boss, and decides he will find the vein to spite him. Then, one night at dinner, Campbell speaks to Old Dave, one of the townsmen, who tells him about a local myth of a lost mine, and how the deceased boy\u2019s sister, Helen, may know of its whereabouts.\r\nCampbell then hires Helen (described in part as \u201celfin\u201d) as his secretary, and the main part of the story concerns itself with Campbell\u2019s manipulation of her to obtain the information he wants. Initially this proves unsuccessful, but one day he makes a breakthrough:\r\n
I was trying the sympathy gambit. I said it was not so bad, being exiled from friends and family, but what I could not stand was the dreary sameness of that search area. Every spot was like every other spot and there was no single, recognizable place in the whole, expanse. It sparked something in her and she roused up at me. \u201cIt\u2019s full of just wonderful places,\u201d she said.\r\n\u201cCome out with me in the jeep and show me one,\u201d I challenged.<\/blockquote>\r\nDuring this trip, and subsequent ones, Helen tells him of the \u201cfairyland\u201d that she and her brother used to play in, and talks about \u201cbig cats\u201d that chase dogs, \u201cshaggy horses with claws, golden birds, camels, witches, elephants and many other creatures,\u201d \u201cthe evil magic of a witch or giant,\u201d \u201csleeping castles,\u201d \u201cgold or jewels,\u201d and \u201cmagic eggs\u201d amongst other things. Throughout this Campbell sketches the topology of Helen\u2019s fantasy land (noting that she is remarkably consistent with her descriptions) and later convinces her to show him the \u201cmagic eggs,\u201d which turn out to be quartz pebbles that could never have originated in the basalt desert around Barker.\r\nThroughout all this Helen becomes increasingly unhappy and unstable, and there is a crisis point where she says that her brother Owen stole the \u201ctreasure\u201d and later died because of her family\u2019s poverty (when he was found he had lacerations of his back consistent with a cougar attack, although there were no such animals in the area). Old Dave eventually intervenes, tells Campbell about the townfolk\u2019s displeasure about Helen\u2019s condition, and states that she needs to go home.\r\nBefore he can arrange this Campbell receives a map of the prevolcanic Miocene landscape of the area, and is stunned when he realises it is a point for point copy of the map he has made of Helen\u2019s fairyland. All of a sudden he realises, \u201cThe game was real [. . .] All the time the game had been playing me,\u201d and he rushes out to find Helen, only to come across Dave who says she is missing.\r\nCampbell drives out to the desert in the jeep ahead of the search party and, when he finds her, declares his love:\r\n
\u201cWait for me, little sister!\u201d I screamed after her. \u201cI love you, Helen! Wait for me!\u201d\r\nShe stopped and crouched and I almost ran over her. I knelt and put my arms around her and then it was on us.\r\nThey say in an earthquake, when the direction of up and down tilts and wobbles, people feel a fear that drives them mad if they can not forget it afterward. This was worse. Up and down and here and there and now and then all rushed together. The wind roared through the rock beneath us and the air thickened crushingly above our heads. I know we clung to each other, and we were there for each other while nothing else was and that is all I know, until we were in the jeep and I was guiding it back toward town as headlong as I had come.\r\nThen the world had shape again under a bright sun.\u00a0 p. 45<\/blockquote>\r\nThere is a minor confrontation with the townsfolk when they get back, but Helen says she is going away with Campbell to be his wife.\r\nA short postscript takes place sixteen years later, where Campbell tells of his professorship and the son they have had. Campbell also says that they don\u2019t have any books of fairy tales in the house, but goes on to quote a cryptic remark from the son:\r\n
\u201cYou know, Dad, it isn\u2019t only space that\u2019s expanding. Time\u2019s expanding too, and that\u2019s what makes us keep getting farther away from when we used to be.\u201d\u00a0 p. 47<\/blockquote>\r\nWhen I first finished this story (I skimmed it again later) I found it a bit of a muddle to be honest, and wasn\u2019t sure whether \u201cThe Secret Place\u201d was located in a different time or in a different reality, or both.2<\/sup> Part of this was down to expectation (I\u2019d previously read a review\u2014which I can\u2019t now find\u2014of McKenna\u2019s Fiddler\u2019s Green<\/em> which states that the characters in the story generate their own reality to escape the current one), and part of it was McKenna\u2019s execution of the story itself, which trowels in so much talk of fantasy and magic that it almost drowns out the evidence suggesting the children (and later Campbell and Helen) are playing make-believe games in another time: the gold, the uranium, the quartz pebbles, the topology map, and the comment by the son.\r\nI also thought the sudden declaration of love by Campbell a bit unlikely, and have no idea what is happening in the earthquake scene above (is it really a timequake\u2014\u201cnow and then all rushed together\u201d\u2014or is it just an emotional climax to the story?)\r\nIt\u2019s a very mixed bag and by no means a worthy Nebula winner. Bob Shaw\u2019s Light of Other Days<\/em> should have won that year, but was probably pipped by McKenna as he had recently died, and the film of his best-selling book, The Sand Pebbles<\/em>, was in the cinemas.\r\n\u2217\u2217<\/strong> (Average). 6,150 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nHow Beautiful with Banners<\/strong><\/em> by James Blish begins with Dr Ulla Hillstr\u00f8m on the surface of Titan wearing a molecule thick \u201cvirus space-bubble\u201d. After some description of this space suit, her environment (which includes a view of the rings of Saturn), and of an alien \u201cflying cloak,\u201d the latter hits her in the small of the back and knocks her over.\r\nThe second chapter of the story sees her recover consciousness, and which point she starts thinking about a post-divorce affair that she had at a Madrid genetics conference. There is another page or so of background which, in part, focuses on her generally unhappy love life.\r\nIn the third chapter she realises that her suit isn\u2019t working correctly but can\u2019t remember what happened. Then she realises that the alien cloak creature has wrapped itself around her, and may have bonded with her suit, but this doesn\u2019t stop further self-absorption:\r\n

And suppose that all these impressions were in fact not extraneous or irrelevant, but did have some import\u2014not just as an abstract puzzle, but to that morsel of displaced life that was Ulla Hillstr\u00f8m? No matter how frozen her present world, she could not escape the fact that from the moment the cloak had captured her she had been simultaneously gripped by a Sabbat of specifically erotic memories, images, notions, analogies, myths, symbols and frank physical sensations, all the more obtrusive because they were both inappropriate and disconnected. It might well have to be faced that a season of love can fall due in the heaviest weather\u2014and never mind what terrors flow in with it or what deep damnations. At the very least, it was possible that somewhere in all this was the clue that would help her to divorce herself at last even from this violent embrace.\u00a0 p. 58<\/blockquote>\r\nThe final part of the story has her notice another of the flying creatures in the distance and, thinking that it might attract the one that surrounds her, she goes to the thermal beneath which it is soaring. She blocks up the vent, the creature descends, and then the cloak surrounding her departs, along with her spacesuit. She has time to think \u201cYou philanderer\u2014\u201d but not to realise that she has started a long evolution in the cloaks that will end sixty million years later.\r\nThis is a complete muddle of various parts, some of which are quite good (Ulla\u2019s character is much more three-dimensional than usual for the time; there is some good descriptive writing; and there is a sense-of-wonder-ish ending) but some of it is awful (who wakes up from an attack on an alien and starts relationship navel gazing? What on Earth is the silly \u201cphilanderer\u201d comment about?) None of this works as a coherent whole. God only knows what Blish was trying to achieve here.\r\n\u2217\u2217<\/strong> (Average). 3,800 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nThe Disinherited<\/strong><\/em> by Poul Anderson (Orbit #1<\/em>, 1966) starts with two starship pilots in orbit around a planet called Mithras, where a human science expedition landed a century before. Their discussion provides various bits of background information, most pertinently that all interstellar travel is to be stopped.\r\nAfter this setup the bulk of the story is from the viewpoint of Thrailkill, who is the son of one of the science team, and we join him as he returns from expedition upriver of Point Desire, the only city on the planet. With him are his wife, child, and an indigenous alien called Strongtail, a kangaroo-like creature with long arms and a head like a bird. When they arrive at an inn in Point Desire they are greeted with the news of the starship\u2019s arrival, and that the arriving crew \u201csay you can now go home\u201d.\r\nThe remainder of the story focuses on the plan to remove the science mission, which leads Thrailkill and the other colonists to realise that they want to stay. In amongst all this, there is some good description of the planet and Thrailkill\u2019s life there:\r\n

When he and Tom Jackson and Gleam-Of-Wings climbed the Snowtoothe, white starkness overhead and the wind awhistle below them, the thunder and plumes of an avalanche across a valley, the huge furry beast that came from a cave and must be slain before it slew them. Or shooting the rapids on a river that tumbled-down the Goldstream Hills, landing wet and cold at Volcano to boast over their liquor in the smoky-raftered taproom of Monstersbane Inn. Prowling the alleys and passing the lean temples of the Fivedom, and standing off a horde of the natives\u2019 half-intelligent, insensately ferocious cousins, in the stockade at Tearwort. Following the caravans through the Desolations, down to Gate-of-the-South, while drums beat unseen from dry hills, or simply this last trip, along the Benison through fogs and waterstalks, to those lands where the dwellers gave their lives to nothing but rites that made no sense and one dared not laugh. Indeed Earth offered nothing like that, and the vision-screen people would pay well for a taste of it to spice their fantasies.\u00a0 p. 73<\/blockquote>\r\nEventually Kahn, the starship captain, assembles all the humans and speaks to them while he waits for his men to arrive. He tells them that their colony isn\u2019t a viable size, and they cannot be allowed to stay because, if they do, they will expand their numbers and overwhelm the planet and the aliens who live there. During his speech he refers to some of the indigenous populations of Earth\u2019s past (Native Americans, etc.) who were overwhelmed by new arrivals. Then a shuttle from the starship arrives, armed men enter, and the story ends.\r\nThis is a picturesque story, but it poses a false dichotomy3<\/sup> and the last scene resembles one of those didactic Analog<\/em> story-lectures. It also ends far too abruptly, and feels like the beginning of a longer, better story.\r\n\u2217\u2217<\/strong> (Average). 5,500 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nThe Loolies Are Here<\/strong><\/em> by Ruth Allison and Jane Rice (Orbit #1<\/em>, 1966) isn\u2019t so much a story as an account of a mother of four\u2019s various domestic problems and accidents. In a mainstream story these would mostly be the fault of the children, but here they are ascribed to the \u201cloolies\u201d:\r\n

Anyhow, to the inevitable queries\u2014Why are they called loolies? Where do they come from, et cetera?\u2014I can only reply through a mouthful of clothespins, I haven\u2019t time to hat this over the head with a rolled-up research paper. I guess they\u2019re called loolies for the same reason that brownies are called brownies. It is their name. Maybe they come from the same place. Et cetera. Wherever that is. However and whereas<\/em> a brownie is a good-natured goblin who performs helpful services at night (that\u2019s what I need, begod, a reliable brownie, with an eyeshade and some counterfeiting equipment) a loolie will leave you lop-legged. And probably already he has. I\u2019m not sure a loolie is a goblin either.\u00a0 p. 85-86<\/blockquote>\r\nDeliver all this in Rice\u2019s high-energy, madcap style4<\/sup> for half a dozen pages, until which time the loolies turn their attention to the wife\u2019s less than helpful husband, and you are done.\r\nNot bad, just froth that would have been better off in Good Housekeeping<\/em>.\r\n\u2217<\/strong> (Mediocre). 2,150 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nKangaroo Court<\/strong><\/em> by Virginia Kidd5<\/sup> starts off as a satire about bureaucracy with Tulliver Harms, the First Exec of the Middle Seaboard Armies, sidelining other branches of government so he can deal militarily with an alien landing on Earth. Then Wystan Godwin, the story\u2019s main character, arrives after six months in a Tibetan lamasery oblivious to all of this. Most of the rest of the first part of the story concerns Godwin\u2019s readjustment to society (he buys some depilatory cream to make his hairstyle conform with the times, etc.), and his gradual awareness that he is being kept in the dark:\r\n

Still serenely certain that somehow, somewhere, the traditional Liaison packet was on its traditional way to him, Wystan Godwin\u2014lacking even the one or two bits of information that might have triggered an assessment of the true situation\u2014sat and waited for a sheaf of papers to bring him up to date. As Harms had foreseen, he never even thought of demeaning his position by actively seeking data from anyone in the complex. The only man of status equal to his, Harms himself, never spoke directly to him. Their sole contact was via dispute protocol, a procedure as ritualized as the mating dance of the bower bird. Harms\u2019 dictum of later swallowed up fourteen days.\u00a0 p. 101<\/blockquote>\r\nThis wordy and slightly affected semi-satire swallows up about a third of the story, until the point where Godwin (after a peculiar dispute between Harms and a draughtsman) eventually gets his hands on the briefing documents concerning the aliens. Then the story switches to become a first contact piece, beginning with a data dump of several pages from the liaison packet.\r\nThese papers reveal that the aliens are called the Leloc, and they are intelligent marsupial creatures virtually identical to the kangaroos on Earth (we later find that the latter are a devolved colony of Leloc left behind millions of years ago). We also learn about Leloc technology in general, and their Hilbert space drive in particular, which apparently causes temporal distortions (initially, if I recall correctly, the Leloc think they have been away from Earth for six months, not millions of years).\r\nThe final part of the story sees Godwin meet the Leloc in their spaceship, where he has to quickly learn their strange movement and number customs (there is a lot of standing up and sitting down, and people and Leloc coming and going with chairs). When the Leloc later learn that Harms is threatening to attack the ship they refuse to go to Australia to meet their descendants, and say they\u2019ll stand their ground. Matters eventually proceed (spoiler) to an ending where Harms is kidnapped by the Leloc, and the latter\u2019s leader is deposed and left behind.\r\nThis very much feels like the work of an amateur or neo writer: apart from the fact that it seems to be two stories fused into one, and has a huge data dump in the middle, it is buried under far too many words. And, to be honest, a lot of the incident in the story is of little interest.\r\nIt\u2019s not dreadful, but it\u2019s far from being any good; why Knight thought it would be a good idea, after eight months of reading submissions, to devote almost a third of the anthology to this is a mystery.\r\n\u2217<\/strong> (Mediocre). 18,200 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nSplice of Life<\/strong><\/em> by Sonya Dorman (Orbit #1<\/em>, 1966) begins with a woman in hospital getting a hypodermic syringe inserted between her bottom eyelid and eye. The rest of the narrative is a surreal nightmare-ish piece where she sees things (even though her eyes are bandaged), thinks there is a dog under her bed, learns she was probably in a car accident, and talks to a ten-year-old boy, and a nurse with an odd verbal tic.
The story finishes with her overhearing a doctor\u2019s conversation (spoiler), which gives her the impression she is repeatedly wounded so the hospital can re-use her for ophthalmologist training courses (I think).
I didn\u2019t get this at all the first time around, and even on reread I\u2019m not sure it is particularly clear, or convincing.
\u2217<\/strong> (Mediocre). 2,400 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\n5 Eggs <\/strong><\/em>by Thomas M. Disch begins with a man finding his bride to be has gone, after which he decides to go ahead with the post-wedding party anyway. As the story unfolds we find that she was a bird-like creature of alien origin, and that she has left him 5 eggs to incubate.
At the party we see the narrator greet and talk to a couple of guests and then, towards the end of the event, he can\u2019t find the eggs. Eventually (spoiler) he finds cracked, empty eggshells in the kitchen, and finds a recipe card for Caesar salad (needing a similar amount of eggs). He then realises that the note was left for the cook by his avian fianc\u00e9e and, at this point, he remembers her hilarity at cannibalism scene in Titus Andronicus<\/em>.
For the most part this is a quirky but enjoyable enough story, but it morphs into a weak and contrived black joke at the end (and not one that is saved by referencing Shakespeare).
\u2217<\/strong> (Mediocre). 2,650 words.\r\n

\u2022<\/p>\r\nThe Deeps<\/strong><\/em> by Keith Roberts begins with a short data dump that describes an over-populated future Earth where the cities have spread towards the coasts and moved under the seas.6<\/sup> The rest of the story concerns two undersea residents, Mary Franklin and her daughter Jennifer,7<\/sup> and begins with the teenager going to a party (\u201cAnd for land\u2019s<\/em> sake child, put something on<\/em> . . .\u201d)\r\nThere is really not much plot after this (spoiler): we follow Jennifer to the party and get some description of the undersea colony before the narrative cuts back to her mother, who later becomes increasingly concerned when Jennifer doesn\u2019t return on time, eventually going out to search for her. The story ends with both mother and daughter floating underwater above a deep, dark void, and her daughter telling her to listen to the sounds of the Deeps. Mary does so, and almost becomes hypnotised to the point she runs out of oxygen:\r\n

She could hear Jen calling but the voice was unimportant, remote. It was only when the girl swam to her, grabbed her shoulders and pointed at the gauges between her breasts that she withdrew from the half-trance. The thing below still called and thudded; Mary firmed reluctantly, found Jen\u2019s hand in her own. She let herself float, Jen kicking slowly and laughing again delightedly, chuckling into her earphones. Their hair, swirling, touched and mingled; Mary looked back and down and knew suddenly her inner battle was over.\r\nThe sound, the thing she had heard or felt, there was no fear in it. Just a promise, weird and huge. The Sea People would go on now, pushing their domes lower and lower into night, fighting pressure and cold until all the seas of all the world were truly full; and the future, whatever it might be, would care for itself. Maybe one day the technicians would make a miracle and then they would flood the domes and the sea would be theirs to breathe. She tried to imagine Jen with the bright feathers of gills floating from her neck. She tightened her grip on her daughter\u2019s hand and allowed herself to be towed, softly, through the darkness.\u00a0 p. 191-192<\/blockquote>\r\nAlthough there is not much in the way of a story here, the description of the settlement is pretty good, probably Arthur C. Clarke level stuff, and Roberts skilfully generates enough atmosphere and mood to make up for the not entirely convincing idea of sounds luring people to the Deeps (scattered through the text there are rumours about the phenomenon, and recalled conversations with Mary\u2019s husband about how there may be a racial memory drawing humanity down there).\r\nIt\u2019s an effectively \u00a0hypnotic story.\r\n\u2217\u2217\u2217<\/strong> (Good). 7,000 words.\r\n

\u2022\u2022\u2022<\/p>\r\nKnight contributes an Introduction <\/strong><\/em>to the collection which begins with this:\r\n

Here are the nine best new science fiction stories I could find in eight months of reading manuscripts. I did not know when I started what kind of stories I was looking for: all I had in mind was to try to put together a collection of unpublished stories good enough to stand beside an anthology of classic science fiction.<\/span>\u00a0 p. vii<\/blockquote>\r\nWow, that it is the best you could find in eight months?\r\nThere are also short Story introductions<\/strong><\/em>, a paragraph or two for each of the pieces.\r\n

\u2022\u2022\u2022<\/p>\r\nIn conclusion, this collection probably isn\u2019t even as good as an average 1966 issue of F&SF<\/em>. Try one of the better volumes instead.\u00a0 \u25cf\r\n

_____________________<\/p>\r\n1. Algis Budrys (Galaxy<\/em>, October 1966), after opening remarks about Knight and the standard he is trying to attain, states that the Rice, Dorman and Disch are \u201cfroth\u201d. He then adds that Anderson, Blish, and McKenna are each represented by the subject matter expected of these writers before adding that: the Blish was \u201ca little bewildering,\u201d if \u201cwell-written\u201d; the McKenna, \u201ca minor story by a major writer\u201d; and the Anderson is not as good as some others of the same type he has written. Then he back peddles a bit (I get the impression that Budrys is trying to avoid being unkind). Roberts\u2019 treatment of The Deeps<\/em> \u201cis extremely effective; the enchantment of \u2018the deeps,\u2019 the undercurrent of tension and fear.\u201d\r\nBudrys has this about the Wilhelm:\r\n

[This] is the kind of story in which all the characters are mouthpieces, discussing some inexplicable mystery of vital importance to them, while actually performing no actions. What action does occur is scene-setting by the author, who provides, at intervals, visible illustrations of that same mystery. Forward progress thus is zero. Finally the author pushes a couple of new characters and some additional scenery on stage; thus the actual nature of the problem is revealed, and what you suddenly realize is that the story that ought to have started there, and arisen from it, is thus lost. It was good thinking, nice thinking, but now another attempt will have to be made.\u00a0 p. 156<\/blockquote>\r\nThe first part of the story is more interesting than Budrys makes it sound, but he has a point about the second part.\r\nBudrys then goes on speak at length about Kidd\u2019s story, comparing it to Blish\u2019s work:\r\n
In \u201cKangaroo Court\u201d, one does find many of the devices and approaches which are typical of a Blish story, as well as a quality of competence and self-trust which is accepted as a matter of course in work signed by an established name. In this unique context, it shows up as what we would call \u201cdaring\u201d in a new writer. In other words, there is evident knowledge that there are things you should leave out as well as things you must put in.\r\n[. . .]\r\nHowever, as in the Blish story, there is a sense of the last-act performers being conscious of a four-alarm fire backstage. There is also the immediate appearance of a villain whose villainy is pretty much unmotivated except in terms of cliche. He is a one-view- point man without past or future\u2014a fetish dropped from the sky to worry the three-dimensional characters. Too, the narrative pacing is bad\u2014there either needs to be more build-up toward the ending or, perhaps preferably, less detail beforehand, so that the need for a tacked-on trip to Australia does not arise. The actual story all takes place aboard the landed alien spaceship where marsupial and mammal sit in deliberation over the two viewpoints on the situation. Even so, this is very nearly a major story, by an undoubtedly important writer, representing a definite gain to the field.\u00a0 p. 157<\/blockquote>\r\nBudrys concludes:\r\n
What Damon Knight has put together here, then, is a book that represents science fiction well but not to any extraordinary extent. He has come up with some solid stories, some well written trifling stories, and one or two uncommon stories, though none that ring so well as to be clearly and obviously the \u201cbest\u201d of anything.\u00a0 p. 157-158<\/blockquote>\r\nI usually like Budrys\u2019 reviews but found this one a bit useless to be honest, and couldn\u2019t help but think he was muddying the waters as much as he could because (I suspect) he knew Knight well.\r\n\r\nJudith Merril (F&SF<\/em>, September 1966) opens her review with some general remarks:\r\n
[Orbit #1<\/em>] emerges as a most uneven volume leaning more to polish than profundity, rather stronger on technique than concept. It is an excellently readable collection, but of the nine stories, there are no more than four I am likely to read a second time, and of those four, only two \u2018needed\u2019 a book like this to achieve publication. \u00a0p. 18<\/blockquote>\r\nShe then talks about the four stories:\r\n
The outstanding inclusion here is Richard McKenna\u2019s posthumous \u201cThe Secret Place,\u201d long overdue for publication, and by itself, I suppose, justifying the existence of the book. Almost the same thing might be said of James Blish\u2019s \u201cHow Beautiful with Banners,\u201d if he had finished the story he began. Rich, meaty, absorbing in its opening pages, it seems to run out of content half way through: a woman more complex and believable than any character of Blish\u2019s I have ever read turns into a scientifictional spinster stereotype; a compelling emotional experience seems to degenerate into a pale dirty joke. Yet the first part is so extraordinary that I know I will return to it, ignoring the drop-off afterwards.\u00a0 p. 18-19<\/blockquote>\r\nShe goes on to add that she doesn\u2019t know why the McKenna has not seen print before now; and adds that she can see why a book of this sort would be necessary for the publication of the Blish, and the Dorman, which she thought an unclassifiable story unsellable to any magazine (what, not even F&SF<\/em>?)\r\nMerril also thinks that Virginia Kidd\u2019s \u201cKangaroo Court\u201d is a \u201cvaluable find\u201d but is \u201cless potent than the McKenna in its symbolic content,\u201d (whatever that means) and is \u201ca solid piece of science fiction wrapped up in some elegant prose.\u201d I wonder if she and Budrys were reading the same story as me.\r\nShe describes the Wilhelm as a \u201csomewhat overwritten good idea\u201d, the Anderson, \u201ca beautifully smooth mood piece with not much idea at all\u201d, the Rice a \u201cshrill giggle\u201d, the Disch, \u201ca gorgeously colored bottle of bird-woman relish\u201d, and the Roberts an \u201cunoriginal but strongly written underwater story.\u201d\r\nShe finishes by saying that only the Kidd and McKenna fit Knight\u2019s stated aims \u201cto put together a collection of unpublished stories good enough to stand beside an anthology of classic science fiction.\u201d\r\nAnother useless review in my opinion (\u201ca gorgeously colored bottle of bird-woman relish\u201d?), apart from her comments about the Blish, which are spot on.\r\n\r\nP. Schuyler Miller (Analog<\/em>, January 1967) states that \u201cthere are nine good stories\u201d in the collection but doesn\u2019t really give any further idea what he thinks of them beyond saying that he thinks that the McKenna was the best, and that the Kidd \u201ccould well have been published here\u201d. I doubt it.\r\n\r\nMichael Moorcock* (New Worlds<\/em> #169, December 1966) has this to say about the anthology:\r\n
None are outstanding, most are readable, conventional sf stories. One of the best is by newcomer Virginia Kidd. Unrepresentative work by Disch and Roberts, representative work by McKenna. Anderson, Wilhelm. Women writers too rarely seen include Sonya Dorman and Allison Rice. The Blish story is unbelievably badly written, has a good start and descends rapidly into sf cliche. Collection has standard of good issue of, say,\r\nF&SF<\/em>.\u00a0 p. 156<\/blockquote>\r\nAnother mystifying vote for the Kidd. The story did not go down nearly as well in our Facebook<\/a> group read.\r\n\r\n* The reviews are signed \u201cWEB\u201d which I presume (and have had others agree) is probably Moorcock using his \u201cWilliam Barclay\u201d pseudonym. An ex-editor in the know thinks the \u201cE\u201d may be for \u201cEwart\u201d.\r\n\r\n2. It took me a couple of days of scratching my head, Algis Budrys\u2019 October 1966 Galaxy<\/em> review<\/a> (\u201cabout time travel, love and maturation\u201d), and reading the other comments on my Facebook group read thread<\/a> before I could make sense of The Secret Place<\/em>.\r\n\r\n3. The ending of Poul Anderson\u2019s piece made me realise that a lot of stories probably have simplistic either\/or endings for dramatic reasons\u2014in this case it means you can either finish the story as above (armed arrest), or you could have a \u201cresistance and independence\u201d ending (in what would be a longer story). A more pragmatic, fudged solution, where the humans covenant with the aliens to limit the size of their colony, for instance, probably wouldn\u2019t be so satisfying.\r\n\r\n4. For better examples of Jane Rice\u2019s solo humorous style, I recommend The Elixir<\/em> (Unknown Worlds, <\/a><\/em>December 1942<\/a>), or The Magician\u2019s Dinner<\/em> (Unknown Worlds, <\/a><\/em>October 1942<\/a>).\r\n\r\n5. Virginia Kidd was once married to James Blish, and was better known and an agent and editor than a writer. Her ISFDB page is here<\/a>, and her Wikipedia page here<\/a>.\r\n\r\n6. In his early period Keith Roberts worked through a number of conventional SF themes before doing his own thing: alien invasions in his first novel, The Furies<\/em>; psi powers in his third, The Inner Wheel<\/em>, and in some short stories, e.g., Manipulation<\/em>, The Worlds That Were<\/em>; time travel in Escapism<\/em>; androids in Synth<\/em>; and post-nuclear holocausts in many others.\r\n\r\n7. Keith Roberts used the name \u201cJennifer\u201d in another undersea story called The Jennifer<\/em>, (Science Fantasy<\/em> #70, March 1965) although that one is about Anita, a teenage witch taken by a mermaid to see a gigantic sea serpent. Still, it\u2019s worth a look<\/a>, if you can cope with Granny Thomson\u2019s Northamptonshire accent (it gives them the vapours on one review site). His cover painting for that story appeared on another issue<\/a>.\u00a0 \u25cf\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: Given that Damon Knight read eight months worth of manuscripts for this anthology, it is a disappointment, and is probably of poorer quality than an average issue of F&SF of the time. Only one of the stories, Keith Roberts\u2019 The Deeps, is any good, and the rest are either partially broken (I\u2019d include the […]<\/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":[50],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13488","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-original-anthologies"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-3vy","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13488","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=13488"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13488\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13519,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13488\/revisions\/13519"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13488"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13488"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13488"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}