That's right, it's Thursday! Time, once again, for a dip into the rich history of science fiction, pulp-style. And once again, we have five stories, three of which are serials. Two of those will conclude this issue, and one will begin. The other two stories are a novella by Murray Leinster, and a Verne short story. The first one he ever wrote, in fact. So, let's see what we've got.
COVER
For the fifth straight month, we have the cover trifecta of Wells, Verne, and Serviss. For a guy who didn't write a whole heck of a lot of science fiction, Serviss is really well-regarded by Gernsback, to say the least. Either that, or he was an Einstenian-level name in the astronomy field. That's something I'll have to look into at some point.
Anyway, the cover art. At first glance, it looks like a futuristic space ship, sitting on a wooden scaffold on a shore. In the foreground is a boat full of people reaching toward the 'spaceship.' Glancing at the table of contents, this is apparently an ark from Serviss' The Second Deluge. A future-age Noah, apparently. That is one funky-looking ark. In the center of the ark, one of the portholes(?) is open, and it looks like there's a figure of some sort signaling the frantic boat-people. I don't think they made it in time.
EDITORIAL
So, Mr. Gernsback starts us off with a received letter, from W.F. Crist in San Francisco. The letter discusses the 'obvious scientific mistakes' in some of the stories, such as The Runaway Skyscraper in the August issue. Crist wants Gernsback to be more picky about the science in the stories that get printed in Amazing.
Gernsback's response, while courteous, makes it clear that 'poetic license' gets precedence over absolute scientific accuracy. This is, I think, a good thing; the title of the magazine is Amazing STORIES, not Amazing SCIENTIFIC FACTS. He then points out that if you really want to pick at the science, complaining about the timepieces in The Runaway Skyscraper is like picking at dust motes in the desert. There are bigger points to criticize about the 'science' in the story, after all. The rest of the editorial notes that H.G. Wells was the first to talk about the risk of bacterial attack in traveling to other planets, and that there are other dangers out there that are even deadlier, such as Cosmic Rays.
Oh, and there's a note at the bottom of the page that "Mr. Hugo Gernsback speaks every Monday at 9 P.M. from WRNY on various scientific and radio subjects." He was multi-media before it was cool.
THE SECOND DELUGE, Part I, Garrett P. Serviss
This is the second time Professor Serviss gets the pole position story, as he did with the first installment of A Columbus of Space three months ago. It was first serialized in The Cavalier in 1911-1912, and is being reprinted for the first time in this issue. On the title page, we get another picture of the futuristic ark, along with a bunch of animals being herded in. There's even a reference to the Book of Genesis from the Bible, specifically the seventh chapter, where Noah did the same thing.
The hero of this story is an 'undersized, lean, wizen-faced man, with an immense bald head, as round and smooth and shining as a giant soap-bubble, and a pair of beady black eyes, set close together, so that he resembled a gnome of amazing brain capacity and prodigious power of concentration' named Cosmo Versàl. But he's not anything like Edmund, the hero of a Columbus in Space. He's not a man of action and derring-do, but a doomsday prophet who has discovered the real cause of the deluge of the Bible: The earth and its solar system passing through a watery nebula. And now, it's going to happen again.
Just like Noah, Cosmo sounds the alarm, telling everyone that they're going to need swimming lessons in a hurry, and just like Noah, he gets laughed at by everyone, including the governments of the world, who think he's a total nut. Unfortunately, he isn't. He's a lot like the mythical Cassandra, actually. He's right, and he knows that nobody will listen to him until it's too late. So, he starts building an ark, made from a new metal, levium, which is 'half as heavy as aluminum and twice as strong as steel.' Sounds useful. Even the ships on the ocean won't manage to survive the deluge, apparently; only vessels made of his metal will do. He even makes the plans and metal available to anyone who wants to build an ark themselves, but nobody takes him up on it.
Actually, it's worse than that; Cosmo gets a summons to the office of the President, accused of weakening national security. He then tears into Professor Pludder, a scientific rival, who is refusing to acknowledge Cosmo's claims, even though he has all the evidence handy, and other scientists in Pludder's circle have confirmed his conclusions. Then, all hell breaks loose.
The deluge begins, and suddenly everyone wants on board the only ark in existence, Cosmo's. There's a nice scene where a rich billionaire tries to buy his way onto Cosmo's ark, only to be rebuffed because at this point, his money is worthless; only people who can contribute something useful to the post-flood survivors are welcome. In total, Cosmo brings 1,000 people aboard, plus animals (not two of everything, though; just the ones that he figures will be necessary). We also get a dramatic scene where a huge ocean liner struggles to withstand the rising seas; it ends just as Cosmo had predicted.
This installment runs for 26 pages. It's not exactly action-packed; there's more of a dramatic tension as we wait for the inevitable deluge to strike. Even when it does, there are still people in denial. Some people just can't be taught. It's a tight, well-plotted beginning to the story, and I'm looking forward to the second part.
THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU, Part 2, H.G. Wells
Ah, back to Creepyville. This installment concludes the story, and it runs for 21 pages. We geta n explanation from Dr. Moreau about what he's doing and why, and it's a great example of the Mad Scientist. The 'beast-folk' are simply animals that have been genetically modified to be more human, and given enhanced intelligence. There are also some cross-breeds (wolf-bear, horse/rhino, etc.). However, they still retain much of their animalistic natures, making them really, really dangerous. After all, the only thing worse than a puma stalking you is a puma that can reason out the best way to track you down.
The beast-folk are trying to be more human, or at least most of them are, and they have a keen fear of 'the Whip.' They even have a crude form of Law, which basically means 'be more human than animal.' Unfortunately, it doesn't work all the time, and there's a tense chase where the beast-folk, along with Moreau, Pendrick the narrator, and the other humans on the island, hunt a leopard-man. When they finally trap it, the beast-folk are eager to see the leopard-man be punished with torture. Pendrick, however, will have none of it, and kills the beast 'accidentally', angering Moreau.
Things don't get much better; Moreau disappears and is killed by his own creations, and eventually Pendrick is the last human being on the island. He tries to live among the beast-men, but without the threat of Moreau, they slowly revert to their bestial natures, and Pendrick finally escapes on a boat, leaving the island and its inhabitants to their own devices. The story ends with Pendrick reminiscing, in London, on his horrific adventure.
Obviously, this is a science-fiction story; mad scientist, genetic manipulation, it's all there. But it's also a psychological thriller and a horror story at the same time. It just goes to show, genre fiction as we know it didn't exist back then; authors didn't separate fantasy, sci-fi and horror. They just wrote whatever suited the story.
The Island of Dr. Moreau gives us food for thought about what it means to be human, and what separates us from the beasts. Of course, Wells was writing from a socialistic, near-atheistic perspective, which makes for a much different answer to that question than a Christian writer would have offered. Still, it's a classic for a reason, and a great read, regardless of your religious or political views.
BEYOND THE POLE, Part 2, A. Hyatt Verill
The conclusion to Mr. Verill's story, where Mr. Bishop is stuck in an enclosed valley somewhere beyond the South Pole (in Antarctica, naturally) where there are a bunch of lobster-people running around with an advanced civilization of their own. Unfortunately, Bishop can't escape over the mountains any more than the lobster-people can; he can't handle the thin atmosphere. The first chapter of this installment reads like a science textbook, describing the lobster-folk and their culture. It's not very exciting. Bishop does have some technical know-how that escapes the natives, though, despite their advanced culture. He designs a crude steam-engine, which is like showing fire to cavemen; they go nuts with excitement over this invention.
Oh, and remember the ants? They were mentioned in the first installment. Well, they're back, and they're not happy. The ants (which are enormous) and the lobster-people don't like each other much, and the ants are intelligent as well. They've been trapped underground for a long time, but they've managed to escape, and life is about to get really unpleasant for the lobster-folk. And Mr. Bishop, who closes out his narrative by lamenting that the lobster-people are abandoning their civilization and returning to life under the sea...which he can't do, since he's not a lobster. He does get into a boat and abandon the ant-infested city, but the story ends before we find out his eventual fate.
The installment is only eleven pages, and not a lot really happens; it's mostly a travelogue for life among the lobster-people until their civilization gets wiped out by nasty ants. What is it with ants, anyway? That's the third story in this series where ants are a major problem. Why doesn't someone write about bees or even mosquitos? Always ants.
THE MAD PLANET, Murray Leinster
Mr. Leinster's second appearance in Amazing Stories, it was his first story that got mentioned in the letter to the editor described above. This time, we go way, way off in a different direction, as instead of traveling back in time, we take a look at a post-apocalyptic future that really, really sucks. Looks like the environmentalists were right, though it's not a man-made catastrophe that causes global warming. Fissures in the earth sent out greenhouse gases, and not only did the planet get hot, but the atmosphere is practically unbreathable at lower altitudes. To make matters worse, insects thrived in this new atmosphere, and grew. I mean, they grew really, really big. As in, thirty thousand years later, horseflies really are the size of a horse, and what's left of mankind is basically food for the bugs, having lost all semblance of civilization and reverting to the most primitive caveman lifestyle you can imagine, except everything is trying to eat them.
First published in Argosy in June, 1920 and running just over 20 pages, this story tells of Burl, a young man who is just trying to survive with what's left of his tribe. Unfortunately, he gets separated and lost, and gets captured and nearly eaten by a monstrous spider. However, Burl escapes through a fortunate coincidence, and discovers that there are, in fact, ways to fight back against these hideous monsters. And so he does, using a dead bee's stinger as a spear, and wearing the ravishing wings of a moth as his robes. He's still terrified, because he's not an idiot, but he's the first human in thousands of years to actually fight for his life instead of just running like hell and hoping he's faster than the other guy. He even gets back to his tribe, and of course he's immediately the coolest guy around, since he's actually wearing clothing. The story ends, of course, with him getting the girl, because that's the most important thing.
It's a good story, and the insects are seriously creepy. Well, I did just complain about ants always being the problem. They weren't the issue in this story, that's for sure. Spiders, moths, bees, dung-beetles, flies...yeah, the insects rule the world in this future. But Burl might be starting to change that...
A DRAMA IN THE AIR, Jules Verne
This story relates the tale of a man who hijacks a hot-air balloon. Well, it's mid-nineteenth-century France, so why not? The story doesn't have much in the way of action, but it has a lot of narration. The hijacker is basically a balloon-freak, and spends a good chunk of the story relating stories of famous aeronauts of the time and their amazing accomplishments. He's like a space geek in the 1970s who knows every astronaut by name and what missions they flew. He's also a nut who wants to go out in a blaze of glory, and tries to cut the car away from the balloon so it can ascend all the way to the sun. The narrator isn't having any of that, and manages to escape (barely) with his life, while the lunatic ends up dying off-screen.
So...I'm not sure how this story ended up in a science fiction magazine, because there's absolutely nothing sci-fi about it. It's sort-of an adventure story, sure, but balloons weren't a new thing when Verne wrote this in 1851. Running just over six pages, it's a quick read, but again, what's the link to the concept of science fiction? There isn't one. So, Gernsback just wanted to stick a Verne story in here, because everyone knows Verne is science fiction, I guess.
STARS, Leland S. Copeland
And we finish off with a poem, which I will reproduce here just 'cause.
Out through space my spirit leaps,
Swifter far than light;
Up to the lunar craters,
Gilded, banked with night;
Over the channeled, ruddy Mars,
Up through Saturn's rings;
Parting the hair of comets,
On my spirit wings;
Out where vast and awful voids
Space the Milky Way--
Room for earths by hundreds
To spin the night and day;
Straight through stuff of orbs unborn,
Mammoth nebulae;
Lost where stars by thousands
Light the Ether Sea;
Far in timeless, bournless space
Till systems cease to roll;
Ever vainly seeking
Hope and the Supersoul.
Millions die who never knew
Half I see and ken
While I circle madly
Through the stars. And then--
Back to earth my spirit falls,
Tired of cosmic dust;
Needing a human being,
Human love and trust;
Gliding down on fancy's wings
Deep among the hills,
Where the elms and maples
Arch the flowered rills;
Back to dark-haired Mirabel
All my being flies;
Back to a wide-arm welcome
And the cosmos of her eyes.
CONCLUSION
This issue continues the string of the triumvirate of early science fiction: Verne, Wells, and Serviss. Leinster is also a pretty big name, who had a lot of stories published in the pulps. No first-time stories in this issue; it was all reprints. That's disappointing after the last couple of issues did give us some new material, but since some of that material really wasn't very good, I can't say I'm surprised that Gernsback went back to the classics.
I'm not going to rank the issues; there are just too many variables. I liked the Serviss story and The Mad Planet; Moreau is, as I said, a classic, but the other two just weren't that good. So, it's a middle-of-the-road issue for me. Maybe there will be some new material in the next issue; we shall see. Oh, and there is a note that the next issue will include H.G. Wells' The First Men in the Moon, so that should be fun.
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