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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Other Reviews: Fiction: Non-fiction: This month\u2019s issue has the last full colour artwork that Unknown<\/em> would feature on its covers. Campbell uses most of his editorial, Of Things Beyond<\/em><\/strong>, to discuss the change to a sober text-based cover:<\/p>\n Unknown, simply, is not an ordinary magazine. It does not, generally speaking, appeal to the usual audience of the standard-type magazine. We have decided on this experimental issue, because of this, in an effort to\u00a0determine what other types of newsstand buyers might be attracted by a somewhat different approach. More information is given about the change a couple of pages further on:1<\/sup><\/p>\n We\u2019ve made the July cover look very dignified. We\u2019re going to ask your dealer to display it with magazines of general class\u2014not with the newsprints.<\/em> P.8<\/p>\n The covers would never go back to the way they were. I\u2019ll be interested to see what the readership think of the possibility of no more Cartier covers in future issues.<\/p>\n Given the desire to reach out to a more upmarket readership the first of the stories this issue is a peculiar choice, given that it is a dreadful\u00a0pulp potboiler. Perhaps Campbell was just getting it out of the way before the new \u2018slick\u2019 readership arrived. \u201cI mean, sir\u201d\u2014Kildering\u2019s voice was cold with urgency\u2014\u201cthat he destroys whoever opposes him, either\u00a0by death or by insanity! We must reach the chief at once!\u201d There are several pages of this kind of thing, as well as a lot of bluster, gymnastics and unlikely gunplay involving his fellow agents before Kildering manages to force his way into the chief\u2019s office to tell him he can save him from the super-villain John Miller. Needless to say at this point the chief turns mad and attempts to shoot Kildering. If I felt I was being overly mean to Page\u2019s\u00a0story those thoughts vanished on reading the next one. It isn\u2019t brilliant but The Kraken<\/em><\/strong> by L. Ron Hubbard is a noticeable improvement in quality. This contemporary story is about a U-boat dodging a destroyer depth-charge attack only to fall into the arms, or tentacles, of a giant kraken. After a short fight the kraken drags the U-boat back to its lair in a massive underwater cavern. This is all quite realistic, apart from the lack of compression sickness at the end, and maybe the captain\u2019s final act.<\/p>\n Transparent Stuff<\/em><\/strong> by Dorothy Quick is the second of her \u2018Patchwork Quilt\u2019 stories. The quilt in question is a witches\u2019 one that lets the holder touch a panel of it and experience an historical life. In this one the woman touching the quilt inhabits the body of a Babylonian princess called Star. Star is to be married off by her father to one of the royal\u00a0men\u00a0of the neighbouring states, but she does not care for any of her suitors. With the help of a priest called Abeshu she summons the goddess Ishtar and asks for her help. Subsequently, she meets a young man called Belzar and falls in love, but there is still much palace intrigue to come.<\/p>\n The Man from Nowhere<\/em><\/strong> by Frank Belknap Long concerns a man called North meeting a painter of some strange artwork at a party. He later walks home with him whereupon he observes several minor events that appear to be either a time or causality reversals:<\/p>\n From a cellar honkatonk a man and woman emerged, staggering backwards The man was slurring his syllables, his voice raised in drunken protest. After he leaves the artist he finds that he has a tingling in his hand and sees that his fingers have bent and coiled backwards. Immediately after this he survives an automobile accident and the story cuts to the next day, and a conversation between North and Revell, the artist:<\/p>\n \u201cYou say I was run down before the car struck me. Good heavens, man, do you realize what you\u2019re saying?\u201d After this, North\u2019s girlfriend gets involved and there are other surreal occurrences. These are explained, and the story rather perfunctorily wrapped up, in a letter from the painter to North at the very end. This story has a potentially intriguing idea which is rather confusingly and disappointingly executed. It has a nice first line though:<\/p>\n Beyond the fact that he had never been born, Revell was no different from other men.<\/em> p.112<\/p>\n I came to the last piece of fiction, Nat Schachner\u2019s long novelette (borderline novella) Master Gerald of Cambray<\/em><\/strong>, with some trepidation. I found the author\u2019s Cold<\/em> in the March 1940 Astounding<\/em> a rather crude pulp story and thought that this would be the same. I\u00a0was pleasantly surprised. \u201cIt is true, Master Guy\u201d he said. \u201cThe noble rector of the university demands your presence immediately\u00a0you are ready. There is a complaint.\u201d This provides an accurate idea of both Master Guy\u2019s character and the violent times he lives in. The only other non-fiction is this issue is an OK poem, Dying Tramp<\/em><\/strong> by Edgar Daniel Kramer.<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t make a judgement on the artwork as I was reading a poor quality unz.org scan, but I noticed some lousy layout on p.33, where one of the pictures has a couple of column lines of story quotation at\u00a0the bottom of the left hand column and a couple of lines of the story itself at\u00a0the bottom of the right. There is no need for this\u00a0given there is space at the end of the story.<\/p>\n It is worth digging out this issue for the Schachner story.<\/p>\n Other Reviews: Fred Smith:\u00a0Once There Was A Magazine\u2014\u00a0p.20-21. Fiction: But Without Horns \u2022 novella by Norvell W. Page The Kraken \u2022 short story by L. Ron Hubbard [as by Frederick Engelhardt] ♥♥ Transparent Stuff \u2022 short story by Dorothy Quick ♥♥ The Man from Nowhere \u2022 short story by Frank Belknap Long ♥ Master Gerald […]<\/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":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1938","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-unknown"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-vg","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1938","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=1938"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1938\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12234,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1938\/revisions\/12234"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1938"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1938"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1938"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nFred Smith:\u00a0Once There Was A Magazine\u2014<\/em><\/a>\u00a0p.20-21.<\/p>\n
\nBut Without Horns<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by Norvell W. Page
\nThe Kraken<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by L. Ron Hubbard [as by Frederick Engelhardt] ♥♥
\nTransparent Stuff<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Dorothy Quick ♥♥
\nThe Man from Nowhere<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Frank Belknap Long ♥
\nMaster Gerald of Cambray<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Nat Schachner ♥♥♥+<\/p>\n
\nBut Without Horns<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 Cartier
\nInterior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 Cartier, Kolliker, Quick, F. Kramer, M. Isip
\nOf Things Beyond<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 editorial by The Editor
\nDying Tramp<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 poem by Edgar Daniel Kramer<\/p>\n
\nTo the nonreader of fantasy, to one who does not understand the attitude and philosophy of Unknown, the covers may appear simply monstrous rather than the semicaricatures they are. They are not, and have not been intended as illustrations, but as expressive of a general theme. <\/em>
\nTo those who know and enjoy Unknown, the cover, like any other wrapper, is comparatively unimportant. For the others\u2014we\u2019re trying an experiment. Your comments\u2014cracks or otherwise\u2014appreciated.<\/em> p.6<\/p>\n
\nBut Without Horns<\/em><\/strong> by Norvell W. Page opens with FBI agent Walter Kildering trying to enter a barricaded FBI headquarters and finding considerable resistance. Agents have been murdered in Metropolis and bankers who have been robbed have gone insane. The FBI chief fears for his life and\/or sanity. Kildering attempts to talk his way in as he knows the villain\u2019s identity and needs to tell his boss:<\/p>\n
\nFor an instant, Overholt\u2019s eyes strained wide with the shock of the words. He began an oath that didn\u2019t\u00a0quite come out. Then he shook his head. He smiled, even chuckled a little.
\n\u201cI can\u2019t argue with your logic, Kildering,\u201d he said. \u201cAs usual, it is faultless. But there\u2019s one thing you can\u2019t get past. No man can drive another man insane at will\u2014and certainly he can\u2019t do it unless he can get through our guard to reach the chief! It just isn\u2019t possible. What have you been doing, Kildering, reading ghost stories?\u201d<\/em> p.12<\/p>\n
\nThe rest of this very, very long story tells of Kildering and two other agent\u2019s renegade attempt to find and neutralise John Miller, who we later are told is a mutant who has not only been killing agents and robbing banks but has also been abducting young woman to breed a new race like himself. Miller also has the ability to asphyxiate people by some form of electrical induction, known to the citizenry as the \u2018blue death\u2019: anyone near\u00a0electrical equipment is vulnerable. As it happens only the ubermensch<\/em> are killed off: part of Miller\u2019s plan is to form an utopian, moneyless society.
\nThis last is one of the story\u2019s more interesting aspects and, for the record, here are some of the others in no particular order. The first is from when the agents tail three female associates of Miller after they kill a number of electrical plant workers. As the women return home one of their number, who died from the blue death at the power plant, is thrown out of the car. The agents recover the body and then use it as a means of entry into the women\u2019s house by tossing it through the window before entering and smacking the other two around in an attempt to get information. I didn\u2019t approve of any of this but the weirdness of it certainly got my attention. Miller\u2019s ability to drive people insane also provides a couple of interesting moments: there is an attempt by Miller to drive Kildering insane while he is driving that produces a good scene, and the long-term result of this attack is that later on all three agents start shooting up morphine to prevent further assaults. As you would. The other\u00a0two things I liked were the descriptions of the mass pyres of \u2018blue death\u2019 bodies in the city, and the fact that the supervillain John Miller never<\/u> appears: he is always off-stage.
\nDon\u2019t let these intriguing snippets fool you: they are needles in a haystack of shredded pulp (at a rough guess 38,000 words\u00a0of it).<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI thoush we wash having asnother,\u201d he complained. \u201cWhash the idea?\u201d
\n\u201cIt wasn\u2019t my idea,\u201d shrilled the woman. \u201cWe just went into the place.\u201d
\nThe man ceased suddenly to stagger. As he moved with the woman across the street his shoulders\u00a0straightened and his voice shed its sibilancy.
\n\u201cListen, Jane,\u201d he pleaded. \u201cI\u2019m all right now. I can take care of myself. Stop pulling me backward.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat happened to us?\u201d exclaimed the woman. \u201c We were pie-eyed and now we\u2019re . . . we\u2019re completely sober.\u201d<\/em> p.115<\/p>\n
\n\u201cI realize perfectly [\u2026]\u00a0The accident happened incompletely. That\u2019s why you were merely shaken up a bit.\u201d
\n\u201cBut my hand\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cYour hand\u2019s all right now, isn\u2019t it? Stop worrying. I\u2019ve told you what happened. I was feeling a little high last night and I let myself go. One gets tired of working with pigments exclusively. I knew a little of the . . . the instability would flow into you when I shook your hand. But I also knew it would wear off in\u00a0a few hours. You don\u2019t seem to realize that I saved your life.\u201d<\/em> p.116-117<\/p>\n
\nIt starts in mid-thirteenth century Paris with the Englishman Guy of Salisbury being woken by the beadle to tell him he has been summoned to the Rector\u2019s Court:<\/p>\n
\nGuy rubbed his pate a moment to dispel the mingled fumes of wine and sleep. Then he heaved slowly to his\u00a0feet and stared\u2014six-feet of bone and whipcord muscles\u2014at the beadle.
\n\u201cThe Rector\u2019s Court?\u201d he demanded sharply. \u201cWhat wish they of me?\u201d His eye flicked to the illicit unsheathed sword that stood in a corner, its point embedded in the unpainted floor. Bright flecks of\u00a0spilled wine had dried upon its hilt; but near the tip there were darker, more somber spots of rusty brown.
\nThe beadle turned his discreet gaze away from the weapon. He knew better than to see that which\u00a0the rules of Paris forbade to students. He gripped his wand of office more firmly.
\n\u201cThe man, Hugues, innkeeper of La Cloche Perse,\u201d he explained in apologetic fashion, \u201cdied past midnight.\u201d
\nGuy shrugged. \u201cThe more fool he. I did but pink him when he rushed on me with screams and tirades.\u201d
\n\u201cYou do not know your strength,\u201d Jean Corbin declared, eying his comrade\u2019s gigantic dimensions with admiration. \u201cYou pierced him clean through the body.\u201d<\/em> p.126<\/p>\n
\nGuy is dealt with leniently by the court, the greatest of his punishments being the payment of some wine to them. It is at the court that he notices an odd looking fellow who is also being dealt with. Gerald Cambray is dressed oddly, speaks awful Latin, and claims to teach at a university called \u2018Harvard\u2019 in \u2018America.\u2019 After being ridiculed by the court for his speech, dress and supposed university, Guy takes him in hand and agrees to enrol him in the English nation and set him up as a professor of astronomy.
\nThe rest of the story develops as you would expect: Cambray is an inadvertent time-traveller and struggles to cope with the squalor and violence of the times. In due course his heretical teachings attract the wrong kind of attention, with predictable results. What sets this story apart from similar tales is that Schachner provides a vivid, visceral and engrossing account of university life in Paris in 1263. He had published\u00a0a non-fiction book in 1939 called The Mediaeval Universities<\/em>, and it is obvious that some of the research from that book was used for\u00a0this readable and entertaining story.2<\/sup><\/p>\n\n
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