Thursday, July 9, 2020

Amazing Stories, February 1927


That's right, it's time once again to delve into the world of Amazing Stories! And just take a look at that cover. No, not the dinosaurs on the submarine; they're cool, sure. But look at those names...

COVER
Three swimming sea monsters and a flying dinosaur menace a U-boat, a German submarine, off a green, rocky coastline. Three insanely brave sailors (tiny compared to the critters trying to eat them) are firing rifles to hold them off.

And that's all we need, really. That, and the names that grace the cover. Perennial contributor H.G. Wells, the redoubtable Garrett P. Serviss, and...the immortal Edgar Rice Burroughs. Oh, yes. His first appearance in the magazine, and since I've already read the book he's contributing to this issue, this first appearance is going to be a doozy.

EDITORIAL

Gernsback gets right into it with 'Interplanetary Travel.' He first compares the problems of interplanetary travel with similar views on powered flight a mere quarter-century earlier. Then he highlights some of the proposed methods for actually achieving it, such as Verne's From the Earth to the Moon, or propeller flight, which obviously doesn't work in a vacuum. He then name-drops Robert Goddard, who was the American pioneer in rocketry, and presciently states that Doctor Goddard's rockets are the only viable way to do it. He also states with confidence that it won't be long before the moon is reachable. And he was right; it was only forty-two years later that Armstrong and Aldrin walked on the moon.

A solid editorial, the most relevant and truly scientific one he's written thus far.

THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT, Part I, Edgar Rice Burroughs

Of course he gets the cover and the pole position. Because he's Edgar Rice Burroughs, people! The absolute master of adventurous science fiction! And here he is, with one of his best stories, the first book of the Caspak trilogy. First published in 1918 in the Blue Book Magazine, this is actually the novelized version that was published in 1924, so it's likely a bit different from the original version. I've only read the novelized version, myself; Blue Book isn't easy to find these days, especially an issue with a Burroughs story.

So, we start off with an ocean liner being torpedoed by a German submarine during World War I. The unnamed protagonist and his dog, Nobs, jump into the ocean to escape the sinking ship; they are among the few survivors. They do get into a lifeboat, along with a young girl. The three of them survive, though they are chilled in the night air, and do get picked up by an Allied tug the next day. The tug, in turn, gets menaced by the same U-boat, which the narrator recognizes...since it's his family that built it in the first place, and he himself had taken it out on its trial runs. Coincidences are Burroughs' stock-in-trade.

The tug crew manage to take the submarine in hand-to-hand fighting, and capture the German Lieutenant in command...who is the girl's ex-fiancé. See the previous paragraph for further comment. The prize crew run into difficulties, with sabotage taking them far to the south. In fact, they end up so far south that they reach Antarctica. That's some impressive sabotage.

There, they find an underwater channel that leads into the continent...and a tropical land inhabited with lots and lots of prehistoric monsters. They manage to take one down, which provides an impressive amount of steak for the crew. They establish a fort on land, there are some more encounters, and some of the crew do get separated. In the confusion, the German prisoners retake the submarine. We end the installment with the narrator, the girl and the British sailors alone and trying to stay alive in this deadly land.

Burroughs is awesome. The book just sizzles with action; the sinking of the cruiser is on the first page, and hardly a page goes by without some sort of action, be it naval, or gunfire, or knife fighting, or whatever. Burroughs is a legend for a reason; there's no wasted words, no philosophical detours, just action, action, and more action. And it's fun, too. The 25 pages just fly by, leaving you wanting more. I can't wait for part two, even though I read it just a few months ago.

ON THE MARTIAN WAY, Captain H.G. Bishop

First printed in Broadway Magazine in November, 1907, this story is only five pages long. And it's quite impressive for such a short length, with a lot of angst, tragedy, and redemption in so few words. The story is actually told in two parts; the first involves the tragic loss of an interplanetary freighter and the resulting incarceration due to negligence on the part of the owner of the ship line, Mr. Winston. Thirteen years later, he's freed and given a chance to start over again, this time as a crewman on board another liner. A navigational error puts the ship in terrible danger, and Winston comes up with a way to set them free, but only at a great personal cost.

Really, aside from the far-future space-travel setting, this story could have worked as a story of an earth-bound ocean vessel. The trap at the end wouldn't have been the same, but the basic plot is generic enough that it could fit in a lot of other times. That's not to say that it's a bad story; it's a very good story. There are only so many basic plots available, after all, and they've all been done a million times or more. It's how the writer treats the plot that makes a story good or bad. Many writers today, sadly, don't write good stories. Captain Bishop, however, has.

THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON, Part III, H.G. Wells

And now, the conclusion. Bedford miraculously finds the sphere just as the lunar night is falling and the temperature is dropping below the possibility of survival. On his way to it, he finds Cavor’s cap and a note that say he’s been injured and won’t be able to avoid capture. Bedford barely gets into the sphere, but he’s alone; Cavor is nowhere to be found. He does, however, manage to take off and return to Earth. Once he arrives, he’s got some of the lunar gold, which gives him an opportunity to reestablish himself financially. Unfortunately, a local kid accidentally takes the sphere on a joyride and is never seen again. Oops.

And that, so I thought, was the end of it. A bit of a disappointing ending, but still, it was an ending. Except that it wasn’t; Cavor did survive, and manages to get some messages back to Earth. However, it’s impossible for anyone to reply, so the remainder of the book is nothing but transcriptions of Cavor’s messages, describing the Selenite culture and how awesome he thinks it is.

This part of the book really brought it down in my estimation; Wells, clearly a socialist, describes his version of an ideal society much along the lines of Plato’s Republic, and it’s boring. The second installment was a lot of fun, but this…no. Cavor’s final message is an attempt to pass on the secret of Cavorite, but the Selenites have figured out that they don’t want humans showing up to mess up their society, and shut him down before he can reveal the secret.

This installment is 24 pages long; it felt like a lot more, and for the last four chapters I kept hoping it would just end. But it just went on and on and on…it was a chore to finish. I know, Wells is a pioneer of science fiction and he’s awesome, but this…it didn’t work for me at all.

NEW STOMACHS FOR OLD, W. Alexander

Okay, then. We go from the moon to a restaurant, and a story about…stomach transplants. Apparently, in the future envisioned by Mr. Alexander, you can trade stomachs with someone else. However, you also trade their tastes and appetite, as the unfortunate Col. Seymore discovers. He gets a stomach transplant because of a stomach ailment (which means that the recipient of his stomach gets the same suffering, I suppose. Not much of a trade, but it paid well). He then finds himself constantly drawn to a particular restaurant in the less-savory part of town. This leads to complications in his life as he can’t resist the delectable Italian food, and everyone else thinks he’s become involved in criminal activity.

Eventually, the other stomach-transplant participant gets arrested for not paying for a meal (because he can’t afford the high-priced food Col. Seymore is accustomed to), and in the ensuing aftermath, they trade stomachs again and Col. Seymore’s tummy is all better afterward for some unexplained reason.

This one’s only about three pages long, and I’ve got to say, it’s a weird one. It’s the author’s first published pulp story, and he would only publish a few more, sporadically, after this, all in Amazing Stories. It’s not a bad story, it’s just…odd. Nothing much really happens, although there is a bit of humor there. At least it doesn’t devolve into a discourse on stomach ailments.

THE ELEVENTH HOUR, Edwin Balmer & William MacHarg

This is the second appearance of Luther Trant, the psychological detective who made his first appearance in the December 1926 issue. This story is another reprint, first appearing in February 1910, in Hampton’s Magazine. It was reprinted twice afterward before being published here. It’s only nine pages long, and I’m sure there will be people who complain about racism because some Chinese characters appear. Tough; it works within the story. Deal with it.

So, it’s another murder mystery; the victim knows he’s going to be killed at eleven o’clock that night, but Trant doesn’t get the message in time to stop it from happening. He does, however, get to solve the case after the victim’s wife is arrested for the crime. He does so using his trusty lie-detector device from the last story. I won’t spoil it, of course; I write mysteries, so I don’t want people knowing the end first. It’s not a bad story, and not nearly as long as the first one. Trant got more efficient at finding killers, apparently.

THE THOUGHT MACHINE, Ammianus Marcellinus

There’s no way that isn’t a pen name. And in fact, it is a pen name; the actual author is Aaron Nadel. And this is his first pulp story; another newbie! There’s hope for me yet! Well, not really.

Alright, so this is an interesting story, one that predicts computers and artificial intelligence, and then provides an excellent example of what life under A.I. would be like (no, not Skynet). Basically, computers take over everything, and eventually humanity forgets how to do anything, since the machines do it all for them. So, humanity devolves into a tribal, primitive race once again; only the ‘priests’ have access to any real knowledge, since they’re the only ones who can still read. Mind you, they can’t understand most of what they’re reading, including how to repair the broken machines, or even better, actually do things manually instead of relying on said machines to do it for them.

The story is somewhat grim; the ending is telegraphed early on, and you know it’s not going to end well. The amusing part is that the scientist responsible for developing these amazing machines does so because of the oldest reason of all: love. His lady-love is, of all things, a flapper, and the author does a good job of contrasting the party-girl mentality with the witless, naïve scientist. Still, in the end, it’s all her fault, because she’s the reason he ends up building the A.I. machines. The story is quick, only five and a half pages, but it packs a lot in there. It’s not the best story in the issue (how can it be, when Burroughs is in it?), but it’s not the worst, either.

Oh, and at the end of the story, there’s a reproduced photograph of an exploding mushroom like the ones described in “The Red Dust” from the previous issue. Very cool.

THE SECOND DELUGE, Part IV, Garrett P. Serviss

At last, we reach the end of this novel. It’s been quite a ride. Actually, this installment isn’t that long, at only thirteen pages. There’s not a lot going on, as it’s mostly denouement at this point. Mount Everest is the last piece of Earth to be submerged, and the Ark is there to witness it. Cosmo estimates that it will take another five years before the water recedes enough for even Everest to peek out.

So, they go traveling around in the ark because there’s absolutely nothing better to do. They end up back over America, and to their utter surprise, the Ark discovers land at Pike’s Peak in Colorado. The explanation for how this is possible, since the Rockies aren’t nearly as high as the Himalayas, seems a bit awkward, and it boils down to ‘America is just that awesome.’ Well, okay then. In fact, there are quite a few survivors in those mountains, almost three million souls to reestablish humanity. The book ends with Cosmo’s epitaph, which credits him with saving humanity. Well, that’s nice.

I enjoyed this book; it’s not as action-packed as A Columbus of Space, but it was a fun read. Serviss is entertaining, and it’s criminal that he’s virtually forgotten today. Still, he didn’t write nearly as much as others like Wells or Burroughs did. I just wish I’d heard of him before starting this project.

BONUS INTERVIEW

Yes, we have a two-page interview with Fred Wells, son of Herbert George. Fred just wants to come to America to make movies, but keeps getting asked questions about his father. It’s a bit of a puff piece, really, but there’s some insight into Wells’ character which is interesting to learn. It also touches on the secret of Wells’ success as a writer: he bases his characters and stories on real-life situations, adding a touch of science, fantastic or otherwise, to make it memorable. It’s a formula that clearly worked for him, and one that all writers should take note of.

I’m not going to describe all the letters like I did last time; there are about eight of them, some loving the magazine, some disliking parts of it. The usual letters column in a magazine like this, really.

And that’s it for this issue. As two serials end, another begins, and we’ll get more scientific goodness next time. Thanks for reading, and don’t forget to check out my own author page at Amazon. There’s more coming soon, including my first science fiction publication, so I hope you’ll take a good look at it.


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