{"id":5651,"date":"2018-08-10T11:24:34","date_gmt":"2018-08-10T11:24:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=5651"},"modified":"2018-10-03T10:11:05","modified_gmt":"2018-10-03T10:11:05","slug":"astounding-v30n01-september-1942","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=5651","title":{"rendered":"Astounding Science-Fiction v30n01, September 1942"},"content":{"rendered":"


\n\"\"<\/a>
\nISFDB link<\/a>
\nArchive.org link<\/a><\/p>\n

Other reviews:
\nJamie Rubin, Vacation in the Golden Age<\/a><\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

Editor, John W. Campbell Jr., Assistant Editor, Catherine Tarrant<\/p>\n

Fiction:
\nThe Barrier<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by Anthony Boucher \u2217\u2217\u2217<\/strong>
\nThe Twonky<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore [as by Lewis Padgett] \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nNerves<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by Lester del Rey \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nPride <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Malcolm Jameson \u2217<\/strong>
\nStarvation <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Fredric Brown \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>
\nWith Flaming Swords<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by Cleve Cartmill \u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>\u2217<\/strong>+<\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nCover <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 by William Timmins
\nInterior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by Kolliker (x3), Willy Ley (x4), Paul Orban (x7), Charles Schneeman, Frank Kramer (x4)
\nWeapons and War<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 editorial by John W. Campbell, Jr.
\nDeath Under the Sea<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Willy Ley
\nThe Analytical Laboratory: July 1942
\nIn Times to Come
\nBrass Tacks<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 letters<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

This issue of Astounding<\/em> contains two of this year\u2019s Retro-Hugo nominees, The Twonky<\/em> by \u201cLewis Padgett\u201d, and Nerves<\/em> by Lester del Rey, hence this review (more or less\u2014I\u2019ve also read Boucher\u2019s story for something else I\u2019m reading, the retrospective \u2018Best of the Year\u2019 anthology for 1942, The Great SF Stories<\/em> #4, edited by Martin H. Greenberg and Isaac Asimov).1<\/sup>
\nBefore I get to the fiction I\u2019d like to mention the cover artist, William Timmins, who appears for the first time (with a scene from Boucher\u2019s story) as a result of Hubert Rogers joining the war effort. Timmins would reappear in the December 1942 issue, and would then provide every cover of Astounding<\/em> until January 1947, except the July 1944 (Fred Haucke) and December 1946 (Alejandro) issues\u2014a run of 48 covers out of 50 (and he would reappear a handful of times over the next few years). Much of Timmins\u2019 work is unexceptional but he nevertheless produced some of Astounding<\/i>\u2019s best covers.2<\/sup><\/p>\n

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

The fiction leads off with\u00a0Anthony Boucher\u2019s debut in Astounding<\/em> (although he\u2019d previously appeared in Unknown<\/em>),\u00a0The Barrier<\/em><\/strong>, an ambitious time travel story that makes much of future linguistic drift:<\/p>\n

The first difficulty was with language.
\nThat is only to be expected when you jump five hundred years; but it is nonetheless perplexing to have your first casual query of: \u201cWhat city is this?\u201d answered by the sentence: \u201cStappers will get you. Or be you Slanduch?\u201d
\nIt was significant that the first word John Brent heard in the State was \u201cStappers.\u201d But Brent could not know that then. It was only some hours later and fifty years earlier that he learned the details of the Stapper system. At the moment all that concerned him was food and plausibility.
\n[. . .]
\nHe pondered the alternatives presented by the stranger. The Stappers would get him, unless he was a Slanduch. Whatever the Stappers were, things that Get You sound menacing. \u201cSlanduch,\u201d he replied.
\nThe stranger nodded. \u201cThat bees O. K.,\u201d he said, and Brent wondered what he had committed himself to. \u201cSo what city is this?\u201d he repeated.
\n\u201cBees<\/em>,\u201d the stranger chided. \u201cStappers be more severe now since Edict of 2470. Before they doed pardon some irregularities, but now none even from Slanduch.\u201d
\n\u201cI be sorry,\u201d said Brent humbly, making a mental note that irregular verbs were for some reason perilous.\u00a0 p. 9-10<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Almost immediately after this exchange three Stappers appear through a wall and challenge Brent\u2019s interlocutor for \u201cspeaking against Barrier\u201d. The man shows them his identity bracelet. When they stun him, Brent does not waste any time in making his escape up onto a balcony.
\nHe then hides in a nearby room, and an older woman arrives who perplexingly recognises him, as does her brother Stephen who joins them later. When he arrives there is a data dump explaining how this static, and therefore anti-time travel, society came into being. This is not entirely convincing. There is also discussion about the \u201cBarrier\u201d, which is supposed to prevent time travel. As Brent has somehow managed to penetrate it they go to see his time machine. The Stappers (a corruption of \u201cGestapo\u201d) find them; Brent and Martha escape in the machine, and go fifty years into the past.
\nThe rest of the story involves a small group of people (including younger versions of Martha and Stephen) repairing his time machine and plotting to return to prevent the activation of a second Barrier (the reason they only go fifty years into the past is that Brent\u2019s machine destroys the first one\u2014how he got through it on the first occasion without this happening is, if I recall correctly, wobbily explained).
\nWhen they arrive back in the future they infiltrate the Barrier activation ceremony only to see the machine generating it explode, an event caused by an attack of future time travellers. These are quickly subdued by the Stappers and arrested.<\/p>\n

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

Most writers would probably wrap up the story here by sending Brent away on his time machine\u2014Boucher, however, is only about two-thirds of the way through and in the rest of it he tries to outdo van Vogt.
\nBrent becomes a government interpreter, and interrogates three of the time traveller prisoners (Kruj speaks in an Elizabethan English variant, Mimi the Amazonian in a future-slang type speech, and the Venusian Nikobat in a language that is a meld of all Earth ones) :<\/p>\n

Brent picked Tiny Beard as the easiest-looking start. \u201cO. K. You!\u201d He pointed, and the man stepped forward. \u201cWhat part of time do you come from?\u201d
\n\u201cA pox o\u2019 thee, sirrah, and the goodyears take thee! An thou wouldst but hearken to me, thou might\u2019st learn all.\u201d
\nThe State linguist moaned. \u201cYou hear, young man? How can one interpret such jargon?\u201d
\nBrent smiled. \u201cIt bees O. K. This bees simply English as it beed speaked thousand years ago. This man must have beed aiming at earlier time and prepared himself. . . . Thy pardon, sir. These kerns deem all speech barbaric save that which their own conceit hath evolved. Bear with me, and all will be well.\u201d
\n\u201cSpoken like a true knight!\u201d the traveler exclaimed. \u201cForgive my rash words, sir. Surely my good daemon hath led thee hither. Thou wouldst know\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cWhence comest thou?\u201d
\n\u201cFrom many years hence. Thousands upon thousands of summers have yet to run their course ere I\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cForgive me, sir; but of that much we are aware. Let us be precise.\u201d
\n\u201cWhen then, marry, sir, \u2019tis from the fifth century.\u201d\u00a0 p. 23-24<\/p>\n

Brent beckoned forward the woman. She strode forth so vigorously that both Stappers bared their rods.
\n\u201cMadam,\u201d Brent ventured tentatively, \u201cwhat part of time do you come from?\u201d
\n\u201cEvybuy taws so fuy,\u201d she growled. \u201cBu I unnasta. Wy cachoo unnasta me?\u201d
\nBrent laughed. \u201cIs that all that\u2019s the trouble? You don\u2019t mind if I go on talking like this, do you?\u201d
\n\u201cNaw. You taw howeh you wanna, slonsoo donna like I dih taw stray.\u201d
\nFascinating, Brent thought. All final consonants lost, and many others. Vowels corrupted along lines indicated in twentieth-century colloquial speech. Consonants sometimes restored in liaison as in French.\u00a0 p. 24<\/p>\n

He beckoned to the green-skinned biped, who advanced with a curious lurching motion like a deep-sea diver.
\n\u201cAnd you, sir. When do you come from?\u201d
\n\u201cYa studier langue earthly. Vyerit todo langue isos. Ou comprendo wie govorit people.\u201d
\nBrent was on the ropes and groggy. The familiarity of some of the words made the entire speech even more incomprehensible. \u201cSays which?\u201d he gasped.
\nThe green man exploded. \u201cOu existier nada but dolts, cochons, duraki v this terre? Nikovo parla langue earthly? Potztausend Sapperment en la leche de tu madre and I do mean you!\u201d
\nBrent reeled. But even reeling he saw the disapproving frown of the State linguist and the itching fingers of the Stappers. He faced the green man calmly and said with utmost courtesy, \u201c\u2018Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble over the rivering waters of the hitherandthithering waters of pigeons on the grass alas. Thank you, sir.\u201d He turned to the linguist. \u201cHe says he won\u2019t talk.\u201d\u00a0 p. 24<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Added to the mix is a Stapper called Boko, who proves he can time-travel by mind control when he closes his eyes for a second and a copy of him appears at the door. Later, a bodiless time-traveller reveals herself (she is initially resident in Martha\u2019s brain but jumps around).
\nThe climatic insurrection scene (spoiler) has Martha\u2019s brother Stephen possessed by this bodiless time traveller, who convinces him to kill himself to end the war. He does so, and all the future time travellers disappear\u2014there is a third Barrier.
\nThis ambitious and novel piece has some interesting ideas but it goes on for too long, and some parts of it are either a bit of a mess or are not entirely convincing.<\/p>\n

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

The Twonky<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore also starts with a time traveller, this one with amnesia, unintentionally arriving in a radio-phonograph3<\/sup> factory. His job in the future is building \u2018Twonkies\u2019 so he uses the material at hand to build one, and then has a nap. His amnesia clears shortly after he wakes up, and he disappears on his time machine, leaving behind the modified phonogram\/Twonky behind.
\nThe phonogram is bought by a university lecturer and his wife and, after the latter leaves to visit her sister, things start to get weird: the phonograph starts acting like a robot, lighting the man\u2019s cigarettes, doing the dishes, etc. However, (spoiler) matters take an ominous turn when it stops him reading certain books, listening to certain music, and generally prevents him from doing things it does not approve of.
\nThe couple eventually try to destroy it but come off worse.
\nDespite its \u2018classic\u2019 status4<\/sup> I found this, at best, an okay gimmick story, and thought it read like a rehearsal for the superior\u00a0Mimsy Were the Borogroves<\/em> (Astounding<\/em>, February 1943).<\/p>\n

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

Nerves<\/em><\/strong> by Lester del Rey is a prescient story which tells of an accident at a \u201cNational Atomic Products Co. Inc.\u201d plant which, in parts, is eerily similar to some of the real events that occurred at Three Mile Island and Chernobyl (or Fukushima if you are younger). This story is pre-atomic bomb, of course, and the knowledge we now have about nuclear power is considerably different from then\u2014as can be gathered from this early conversation that Doc Ferrel, the folksy head physician of the atomic plant (and narrator), has with one of the other doctors:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was it, anyway?\u201d
\n\u201cSame old story\u2014 simple radiation burns. No matter how much we tell the men when they first come in, most of them can\u2019t see why they should wear three ninety-five percent efficient shields when the main converter shield cuts off all but one-tenth percent of the radiation. Somehow, this fellow managed to leave off his two inner shields and pick up a year\u2019s burn in six hours. Now he\u2019s probably back on No. 1 [reactor], still running through the hundred liturgies I gave him to say and hoping we won\u2019t get him sacked.\u201d\u00a0 p. 55<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

There\u2019s quite a bit of this \u2018slap a bit of salve on your radiation burns and get back to work\u2019 stuff in the story, as well as a fairly cavalier attitude to the catastrophic results of things going wrong, or possibly going wrong:<\/p>\n

And besides, once the blow-up happened, with the resultant damage to an unknown area, the pressure groups in Congress would be in, shouting for the final abolition of all atomic work; now they were reasonably quiet, only waiting an opportunity\u2014or, more probably, at the moment were already seizing on the rumors spreading to turn this into their coup. If, by some streak of luck, Palmer could save the plant with no greater loss of life and property than already existed, their words would soon be forgotten, and the benefits from the products of National would again outweigh all risks.\u00a0 p. 78<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

But I\u2019m getting ahead of myself. The story begins with Doc Ferrel talking to his junior, Dr Jenkins, about a new process the company is running in reactors 3 and 4 that evening. During this they are informed about an accident\u2014the account of what has happened is rather vague and, when the first casualties come in, they are found to be people that were outside the reactors, injured by exploding debris. Ferrell calls in another doctor.<\/p>\n

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

An exciting second chapter follows, during which Ferrel learns that Palmer, the plant boss, has blocked access to the outside phone lines. More injured men arrive, and they\u00a0may be contaminated:<\/p>\n

Jenkins joined Ferrel on the last patient, replacing Dodd at handing instruments. Doc would have preferred the nurse, who was used to his little signals, but he said nothing, and was surprised to note the efficiency of the boy\u2019s co-operation. \u201cHow about the breakdown products?\u201d he asked.
\n\u201cI-713? Harmless enough, mostly, and what isn\u2019t harmless isn\u2019t concentrated enough to worry about. That is, if it\u2019s still I-713. Otherwise\u2014\u201d
\nOtherwise, Doc finished mentally, the boy meant there\u2019d be no danger from poisoning, at least. Isotope R, with an uncertain degeneration period, turned into Mahler\u2019s Isotope, with a complete breakdown in a billionth of a second. He had a fleeting vision of men, filled with a fine dispersion of that, suddenly erupting over their body with a violence that could never be described; Jenkins must have been thinking the same thing. For a few seconds, they stood there, looking at each other silently, but neither chose to speak of it.
\nFerrel reached for the probe, Jenkins shrugged, and they went on with their work and their thoughts.\u00a0 p. 62<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Jenkins\u2019 wife (a nurse turned newly qualified doctor) makes it into the medical section with reports of the military being mobilised and the city possibly being evacuated. She goes to triage the injured near to the reactor, treating the radiation burn casualties there and sending the shrapnel cases back to Ferrel and his surgical team.
\nThroughout all this del Rey creates a remarkably convincing and tense narrative, drip feeding bits of his made up nuclear physics in between the medical procedures that are taking place,\u00a0against a background of an escalating serious accident.
\nAs well as being better informed about nuclear physics than the writer, we also expect our physicians to behave differently nowadays: Ferrel and Blake have a snifter of brandy after several hours of work, and the doctors later resort to shooting up morphine to keep awake! Meanwhile, their ambulance driver gets drunk to cope with the traumatic stress he endures ferrying all those casualties around, and crashes his ambulance.<\/p>\n

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

Matters become even more tense in the next chapter when Palmer (the plant manager) and Ferrel go to one of the atomic converters and organise the men to search through the molten slag for Jorgensen, the only one who understands\u00a0the process that was running in the plant before the explosion (as well as its risk assessment, the plant may want to review its ‘key man’ and data retention policy).<\/p>\n

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

They find him in an armoured suit in a locker, but he is badly contaminated and stops breathing. Ferrel cracks open Jorgennson\u2019s chest and starts manual heart massage.
\nUnfortunately, after a cracking start to the story, these events signal a rather padded, potboilerish middle section during which there is much running about and threatening of guards so Ferrel can phone a\u00a0nearby hospital for an experimental heart and lung machine. There is also a lot of guff about Jenkins thinking he has \u201ccracked\u201d under the strain, Ferrel\u2019s heart to heart with him, and chunks of both men\u2019s backstories.
\nThe last part of the story is a partial return to form: Jorgennson is saved but is of no use to them as his vocal nerves are compromised by widespread radioactive contamination (which, as we have seen previously in this world, affect the nervous system and cause convulsions); Palmer arrives saying the whole place will explode in ten hours and they must evacuate, but Ferrel points to the problem of the contaminated (and also soon to be exploding) men; Hok, the Japanese plant scientist (this in a post-Pearl Harbour America), comes up with a process to transmute the material in their body into something harmless, but it must be\u00a0done at the plant as it requires I-713. Finally, the underconfident Jenkins comes up with a theoretical solution that will stop the converters exploding, and reveals he is the step-son of a great, and dead, theoretical atomicist.<\/p>\n

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

This has a cracking start but the middle section is padded and the story drags from then on (albeit to a much lesser extent in the final part). This piece should have considerably shortened. That said, you can see why it was so popular at the time.<\/p>\n

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

Pride <\/em><\/strong>by Malcolm Jameson is about Tom, a beaten up robot who works in a heavy industry factory:<\/p>\n

Everybody, both his fellow workers and the men who operated the great Alberta plant, said Old Tom was slipping\u2014that it was a shame to see a creature let himself go so completely. And it must be admitted that there was something to the gossip. For he never bothered with body oils any more or went to the burnishers. He would go the whole ten-day working period without so much as giving himself a wirebrushing, and on Repair Day he would usually sit quietly on the veranda of the club and take the sun, heedless of the fact that he dripped rust at every move and that wisps of gasket often trailed from the places where his plates were joined.\u00a0 p. 92<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The reason he skips on maintenance is because he is saving all his money and, in the second part of the story, he uses this wealth to have a new robot built. However, Tom will need to donate his own brainbox for use in the new model, which will mean his end. As the story closes Tom refers to this replacement as his son.
\nThis crystallises the story\u2019s problem, which is that Tom behaves like an old man and not a robot. Asimov\u2019s decidedly non-human robots would soon make this type of story seem quite outdated.<\/p>\n

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

Starvation <\/em><\/strong>by Fredric Brown (reprinted in his collections as Runaround<\/em>) isn\u2019t really SF, but is an okay mood piece about the last T. Rex trying to catch something to eat, failing (everything is too fast), and ultimately dying.<\/p>\n

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

With Flaming Swords<\/em><\/strong> by Cleve Cartmill is actually my favourite piece in the issue. I know this will cause howls of outrage but I liked it more than the Boucher and del Rey: it is a well done if minor story rather than an uneven but ambitious one.
\nIt starts with this:<\/p>\n

You could shock men, I thought, and suffer no consequences. Men were merely slaves. Slaves allowed to serve us, to bring their produce to Eden, to give us their arms and backs and brains.
\nBut these were Saints, here in the big hall. Their massed auras were a blaze of blue against which I narrowed my eyes. We were Saints, with three hundred years of traditional conduct behind us.
\nAnd what I had said was not condoned by tradition. I had called them men.
\nThey took it in silence for a few seconds and stared at me, beside the throne of the Patriarch. Then they began to yell, and I felt a sick shame for them. They lost their dignity.
\nI yelled into their hubbub.
\n\u201cI invoke the rule of silence!\u201d
\nThe Patriarch raised his glowing arms. Quiet fell. \u201cAgainst my will,\u201d the Patriarch said, \u201cI command silence. We will hear the rest of Saint Hanson\u2019s heresy.\u201d\u00a0 p. 109-110<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This future world is ruled by the Saints, an oppressive order of men who use humanity as serfs and a source of wives. They are held in religious awe and feared by the rest of humanity, partly because of their blue auras, and partly because they have the power to make men drop dead by the power of their will. As to that latter ability, Hanson knows that what really happens when they raise their hands to the turbans they wear is that they are firing ray guns concealed within. Hanson also knows that a larger version of that ray gun is responsible for the Saints\u2019 altered germ plasm and blue aura:<\/p>\n

Here is the truth. Nearly three hundred years ago, a new weapon was introduced into warfare. It was fired only once. The destruction was so great and terrible that nations by common consent outlawed it, for it destroyed friend and foe indiscriminately. Thousands were killed within the radius of its effect. It was silent death, for the gun was a ray gun. But listen. On the edge of that area of destruction, people were affected by that ray. Their germ plasm was affected so that male children born of those individuals were born with an aura.\u00a0 p. 111<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

We learn the above later in the story as Hanson is prevented from continuing his speech by another Saint called Wakefield, who suggests that the council shunt the matter into committee because of the febrile atmosphere in the Temple. Hanson feels ostracised and leaves to go home. During the journey he reflects on the advice his human partner Jennings would give him, which is to turn the modulator he has developed on the council (we learn from this passage that, during his research, Hanson has made a device which neutralises the blue aura). We discover more about this world and its history when he arrives home a gives his fianc\u00e9e, Ellen, a mini-lecture about the situation.
\nThe next part of the plot is not entirely credible: Wakefield visits Hanson, who shows him\u00a0not only his research but the modulator, and its aura nullifying effect on Hanson\u2019s blood. Needless to say, Wakefield turns the modulator on Hanson, which destroys his aura, and Wakefield then destroys the modulator.
\nThe next day Hanson goes to the council and, as he arrives aura-less, is denounced by Wakefield. Hanson is later excommunicated in a ceremony televised world-wide, and driven from the temple. Outside the common people stone him and he only just escapes.
\nThe rest of the story involves Hanson\u2019s escape to the desert with Jennings and his wife, his involvement with the resistance, and his development of a device that will provide protection against the Saints\u2019 ray guns (and which produces a blue aura around the wearer). They test this on a giant desert terrapin that had previously wandered into their cave:<\/p>\n

We placed the box on Methuselah\u2019s broad back. Jennings brought the turban gun.
\n\u201cWait!\u201d Magda cried. \u201cAre you certain it\u2019ll work, Bob?\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cI think maybe, though.\u201d
\nShe got a leaf of lettuce for Methuselah. \u201cHere, fella. If you die, you\u2019ll be happy. He loves it,\u201d she said to me, \u201cif it has a touch of salt.\u201d
\nJennings added his farewells. He patted the patterned shell. \u201cSo long, mascot.\u201d
\nI hadn\u2019t seen much of the ugly and somehow awesome creature. I\u2019d been busy. But the Jenningses had made a friend of him.
\nI touched the button of the little box, and joined in the exclamations. For Methuselah had an aura, bright and blue like a Saint\u2019s.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s a bona fide Patriarch,\u201d Jennings said.\u00a0 p. 121<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

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

After this they plan\u00a0to confront the Saints at an upcoming ceremony at the Temple, which is going to be televised to the world. The climax at the Temple (spoiler) involves Jennings and Hanson proving immune to Wakefield\u2019s ray gun. Wakefield then dies in a fight with Jennings, and the Patriarch\u2019s aura is neutralised. A hundred men of the resistance arrive and switch on their auras, and the end comes when Magda and the terrapin enter the Temple, also with auras, thus disproving the Saint\u2019s God-given powers. The Patriarch laughs. The conflict is over.<\/p>\n

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

I can understand that the synopsis above is unlikely to convince anyone of the story\u2019s merits and I would not expect it too\u2014the setup and plot are the parts I would label as \u2018minor\u2019. What they don\u2019t convey is that I found the strange religious order of supermen intriguing, and that the story is very readable\u2014I was reminded in parts of the slick delivery of Heinlein. The character detail is pretty good for the time as well, particularly the exchanges between Jennings and his wife Magda, and there are a number of observations from Hanson about love and life that ground the story. There are these one-liners, for example, on Hanson\u2019s troubled relationship with his fianc\u00e9e:<\/p>\n

You can take an emotional blow. It won\u2019t kill you. But sometimes you wish it would.
\n[. . .]
\nYou can be sick with emotion, too. But you don\u2019t die. It just seems that way.\u00a0 p. 121<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And his envy of the Jennings\u2019 relationship:<\/p>\n

As this blond giant and his wife bickered in this friendly fashion, I forgot that I was being hunted. Nobody had ever spoken to me like that, and I missed it suddenly. All those years of being set apart rushed over me again. I wanted to be on terms of tender contempt with someone. Perhaps that would be possible with Ellen, now.\u00a0 p. 118<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And, yes, I liked the Terrapin, especially when it glows blue at the end!<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve already mentioned Timmins above: this is a Cover<\/em><\/strong> of his that puts me neither up nor down. As to the Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong> in this issue, my favourites are the Schneeman (for the Jameson) and the Kramer (for the Brown), although I also liked a few of Orban\u2019s for the del Rey.
\nWeapons and War<\/em><\/strong> by John W. Campbell, Jr. is another rambling editorial, this time starting with the topic of shared scientific knowledge and then going on to discuss the problems of scaling up certain industrial processes. I am beginning to get the feeling that when Campbell wrote his editorials he just started typing about whatever was on his mind at the time.<\/p>\n

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

Death Under the Sea<\/em><\/strong> by Willy Ley is a science history essay (accompanied by four illustrations\/diagrams by the author) which looks at underwater naval warfare, specifically the development and use of mines, torpedoes and submarines through the ages. There is some interesting historical information in this (a lot of the development appears to have taken place during the American Civil War), and I learned where the torpedo got its name from:<\/p>\n

The man who coined a name for underwater charges was Robert Fulton. His term was \u201ctorpedo\u201d which then did not mean a weapon of naval warfare but simply the electric eel of South American rivers.\u00a0 p. 45<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The Analytical Laboratory: July 1942<\/em><\/strong> puts Simak\u2019s Tools<\/em> ahead of Will Stewart\u2019s (Jack Williamson) first \u2018Seetee\u2019 story Collison Orbit<\/em>.5<\/sup>
\nIn Times to Come <\/em><\/strong>starts by correcting a cover attribution error for the July cover:<\/p>\n

A number of kind friends pointed out our slight slip on the crediting of the July cover. Quite right; it was not done by Rogers\u2014but we all make mistakes, and \u201cCover by Rogers\u201d has been a pretty steady thing for Astounding<\/em> now. But Rogers is no longer doing covers\u2014he\u2019s in the Canadian army.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

It is correctly attributed to Charles de Feo in Brass Tacks<\/em>.
\nThe rest of the column promises an astronomical cover by von Munchhausen, and stories by Lester del Rey, George O. Smith (the first of the \u2018Venus Equilateral\u2019 stories), Murray Leinster, and A.E. van Vogt.<\/p>\n

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

Brass Tacks<\/em><\/strong> opens with a letter from Rosella Rands, Washington, D. C., prophesising another war in twenty years, and that they will get all their new ideas for weapons from SF magazines.
\nEarl C. Smith, Corpus Christi, TX, claims he is a veteran of the SF field, and has a couple of things to get off his chest:<\/p>\n

FIRST: Every time an author dreams up a theory on sunspots, cosmic rays, or why, in the final analysis, there is no solidarity\u2014including their theory\u2014does he have to contaminate good reading material by filling page after page with DETAILED EXPLANATIONS? Not that I haven\u2019t an imagination, or that I don\u2019t want an explanation, but, PLEASE, does the author have to convince himself by going to such an extent?
\nSECOND: Why not give us something different occasionally? The best story I\u2019ve read in any of the current issues was Van Vogt\u2019s \u201cAsylum.\u201d Perhaps I\u2019m contradicting myself on a point here, by liking his story, but I feel the general make-up, the atmosphere, the not bringing out of so many technical details, were points raising his story far above any I\u2019ve read recently.\u00a0 p. 105<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

There are also letters from Milton A. Rothman (about a \u2018Probability Zero\u2019 story), and Anthony Boucher (about van Vogt\u2019s Secret Unobtainable<\/em> and the assassination of Reinhart Heydrich). Edward C. Connor, Peoria, IL, didn\u2019t like the van Vogt as because it is set in Germany and concerned the Nazi Party. James Dial, Chicago, IL, ends the comments (on what seems a mixed July issue) with a letter containing this more general observation:<\/p>\n

There seems to be one flaw which has grown worse rather than better as time goes on. I speak of the feeble endings of most of your serials and many of your shorts. My idea of a perfect ending is certainly inadequate, but I think that the best I have seen is the one from \u201cUncertainty.\u201d The suspicion has been growing that perhaps you have been getting work on assignments, and the endings have had to be rushed through. The ending of \u201cBeyond This Horizon\u201d is a case in point. This story has a structure worthy of three serial installments, possibly four, but it ends abruptly, unsatisfyingly, just when the full background has been painted in and the story has attained momentum.\u00a0 p. 107<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is a pretty good issue, with three good or better novelettes.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

_____________________<\/p>\n

1. The Great SF Stories<\/em> #4, edited by Isaac Asimov and Martin H. Greenberg (DAW, 1980) contains:<\/p>\n

7 \u2022\u00a0Introduction (The Great Science Fiction Stories Volume 4, 1942)<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1980) \u2022 essay by\u00a0Martin H. Greenberg<\/a>
\n11 \u2022\u00a0The Star Mouse<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 [Mitkey<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 1] \u2022 (1942) \u2022 novelette by\u00a0Fredric Brown<\/a>
\n32 \u2022\u00a0The Wings of Night<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 short story by\u00a0Lester del Rey<\/a>
\n50 \u2022\u00a0Cooperate – Or Else!<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 [Rull<\/a>] \u2022 novelette by\u00a0A. E. van Vogt<\/a>\u00a0(variant of\u00a0Co-Operate – Or Else!<\/a><\/em>\u00a01942)
\n77 \u2022\u00a0Foundation<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 [Foundation (Original Stories)<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 1] \u2022 (1942) \u2022 novelette by\u00a0Isaac Asimov<\/a>
\n110 \u2022\u00a0The Push of a Finger<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 novella by\u00a0Alfred Bester<\/a>
\n150 \u2022\u00a0Asylum<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 novella by\u00a0A. E. van Vogt<\/a>
\n205 \u2022\u00a0Proof<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 short story by\u00a0Hal Clement<\/a>
\n222 \u2022\u00a0Nerves<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 novella by\u00a0Lester del Rey<\/a>
\n295 \u2022\u00a0Barrier<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 novella by\u00a0Anthony Boucher<\/a>
\n347 \u2022\u00a0The Twonky<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 novelette by\u00a0Henry Kuttner<\/a>\u00a0and<\/strong>\u00a0C. L. Moore<\/a>\u00a0[as by\u00a0Lewis Padgett<\/a>]
\n369 \u2022\u00a0QRM – Interplanetary<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 [Venus Equilateral<\/a>] \u2022 (1942) \u2022 novelette by\u00a0George O. Smith<\/a>
\n403 \u2022\u00a0The Weapon Shop<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 [Weapon Shops of Isher<\/a>] \u2022 (1942) \u2022 novelette by\u00a0A. E. van Vogt<\/a>
\n442 \u2022\u00a0Mimic<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 (1942) \u2022 short story by\u00a0Donald A. Wollheim<\/a><\/p>\n

Apart from the Brown (from\u00a0Planet Stories<\/em>) and the\u00a0Wollheim (from\u00a0Astonishing Stories<\/em>), all the rest are\u00a0Astounding<\/em> stories.
\nI’ll review this volume in due course.\u00a0By the way, there is a groups.io newsgroup that has been set up to discuss these volumes at <\/span>The-Great-SF-Stories-1939-1963@groups.io<\/span><\/a>. There are only a handful of active commenters, so it won\u2019t wear you out.<\/span><\/p>\n

2. There isn\u2019t much information about Timmins on the web but there is a page<\/a> at Pulpartists.com<\/em>, and links to his covers on his ISFDB page<\/a>.
\nHere are two of my favourites taken from Siren in the Night<\/em>\u2019s Flickr page<\/a>\u00a0for Astounding<\/em>\u00a0(very slightly touched up to remove the odd crease, scratch, etc., and resized). This is the best of his conventional work:<\/p>\n

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

And this one is the best of his impressionistic covers:<\/p>\n

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

Also worth a look is the Through a Shattered Lens<\/em> page<\/a>, especially the last image, which is a striking cover for The Shadow<\/em> magazine. An occasionally brilliant artist.<\/p>\n

3. A radio-phonograph was a wooden box that combined a radio, record player, and speakers. Here is a page<\/a> of them on Pinterest.<\/p>\n

4. The Twonky<\/em>\u2019s ISFDB page is here<\/a>. Note its early reprint appearance in Adventures in Time and Space<\/em> by Raymond J. Healy & J. Francis McComas in 1946.<\/p>\n

5. The Analytical Laboratory<\/em> with the results for this issue appeared in November:<\/p>\n

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

The score of 1.00 for del Rey\u2019s story is extraordinary (and, I originally thought, probably unprecedented and unrepeated, but see Walker\u2019s comment below). Every<\/em> reader who voted marked it first or joint-first!\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n

This magazine is still being published as Analog Science Fiction and Fact.<\/em><\/b> Subscribe: Kindle UK<\/a>, Kindle USA<\/a>\u00a0or physical & digital copies<\/a>.<\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

ISFDB link Archive.org link Other reviews: Jamie Rubin, Vacation in the Golden Age _____________________ Editor, John W. Campbell Jr., Assistant Editor, Catherine Tarrant Fiction: The Barrier \u2022 novella by Anthony Boucher \u2217\u2217\u2217 The Twonky \u2022 novelette by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore [as by Lewis Padgett] \u2217\u2217 Nerves \u2022 novella by Lester del Rey […]<\/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":[15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5651","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-astounding"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-1t9","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5651","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=5651"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5651\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8691,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5651\/revisions\/8691"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5651"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5651"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5651"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}