'Heavy Metal' magazine June 1979

The June 1979 issue of ‘Heavy metal’ featured a cover painting by Angus McKie titled ‘The Performer’, and a back cover painting titled ‘What Happened to Betty (Page)’ by Marcus Boas.

This was a rather unimpressive issue of the magazine. Yet another installment of Corben’s seemingly never-ending ‘The New Tales of the Arabian Nights, Sinbad in the Land of the Jinn’, as well as another installation of McKie’s ‘So Beautiful and So Dangerous’. In a rarity for Heavy Metal, Serge Clerc’s ‘Captain Future’ b & w comic appears in its entirety, although scattered in chunks throughout the magazine in an effort to force the reader to view intervening material. By this time I was beginning to tire of reading stories in drips and driblets, and I had begun to give serious thought to discontinuing purchasing the magazine.

The June issue featured another ‘Pyloon’ tale by Rae Rue and LeoGiraux, and I’ve posted it here. Like the other Pyloon stories appearing in Heavy Metal, it features drawings cribbed from the pop culture archives, in a deliberately cheesy sort of tribute to the originals.

Book Review: From the 'S' File

Book Review: 'From the 'S' File', by the editors of 'Playboy' magazine
2 / 5 Stars

Playboy regularly published a lot of SF stories, many by well-known authors in the genre. As one of the so-called ‘slick’ magazines, it paid high rates and represented a coveted outlet for short fiction throughout the 50s, 60s, 70s, and even the early 80s, after which the advent of video porn, and later, DVD and internet porn, severely curtailed its circulation.

There were some drawbacks to being published in Playboy; there were of course restrictions on story length – after all, no one really bought the magazine for the ‘articles’ – and the SF content had to be dialed down in order to appeal to the magazine’s hedonistic-oriented readership. Both of these drawbacks probably influenced the tenor of the stories appearing in this anthology.

‘From the “S” File’ (1971) contains stories published from 1956 to 1970; as the book’s title indicates, all the authors have surnames beginning with the letter ‘S’.

The editor(s) in charge of purchasing SF tales seem to have liked Robert Sheckley a great deal, since 5 of the 16 the entries in this anthology originate from that author. I myself have never been all that enchanted by Sheckley’s writings, which tend to focus on satire, with the SF themes merely serving as a sort of painted backdrop for the author’s efforts at critiquing social mores. Of his stories presented here, only ‘The World of Heart’s Desire’, about a man seeking an extended bout of escapism, is really all that impressive. The other Sheckley tales: ‘Can You Feel Anything When I Do This’, ‘Triplication’, ‘The Same to You Doubled’, and ‘Cordle to Onion to Carrot’ all come across as underwhelming efforts to meld SF tropes with a Cheever-esque styling.

Theodore Sturgeon contributes ‘The Nail and the Oracle’; like Sheckley’s work, it’s a lackluster effort at social and political satire.

‘Control Somnambule’, by William Sambrot, deals with an Apollo astronaut and a mysterious lapse in his recollection of the period his spaceship spent traveling on dark side of the Moon. Well-written and effective despite an understated style, it’s one of the better tales in the anthology.

‘The Man From Not-Yet’, by John Sladek, deals with an encounter between the famous 18th century English philosopher Samuel Johnson, and a time-traveler from the future.

Henry Slesar is represented by ‘Melodramine’, in which a near-future narcotic gives hallucinations of a too-pleasurable kind. ‘Victory Parade’, is a short, mordant tale of the celebration of a war..... in which everyone loses. ‘Examination Day’ is a somewhat clichéd account of a very important test administered by an authoritarian regime, while ‘The Jam’ is a brief but quietly effective story, and will undoubtedly make for uneasy thoughts when one is next in a traffic jam on a hot summer's day. ‘After’ is a collection of vignettes, set in a nuclear war’s aftermath, infused with a dark sense of humor.

Jack Sharkey contributes ‘The Pool’, a moral fable about conquistadors and the fabled fountain of youth; and ‘Conversation with a Bug’, a comic tale about over-reaching one’s grasp.

The final entry is Norman Spinrad’s ‘Deathwatch’, a succinct tale that relies on a shock ending. It’s one of his more effective stories.

The verdict on ‘From the ‘S’ File’ ? To some extent the stories suffer from having to be coherent to Playboy’s audience, as opposed to targeting, say, contemporary SF magazines like Analog or If. But the inclusion of too many tales in which the SF content is subordinate to social satire makes it hard to recommend this volume to fans.

Slow Death comix Number 9

'Slow Death' Comix No. 9 (1978)

‘Slow Death Funnies’ was the first title produced by Last Gasp, a small press outfit started by Ron Turner in Berkeley, California. ‘Slow Death’ was a b & w eco-conscious comic book produced to coincide with the first Earth Day celebration in April, 1970. Throughout the 70s a total of 10 issues were produced; in 1992, an 11^th issue appeared, which is still available from the contemporary Last Gasp catalogue.

‘Slow Death’ was part and parcel of the eco-catastrophe consciousness that was in fullest flower in the late 60s and early 70s. Many of the better-known underground comix artists had stories in the book, including Jack Jackson (‘Jaxon’), Richard Corben, Charles Dallas, Fred Schrier, Dave Sheriden, and Rand Holmes. Some issues of the comic have explicit content and bear an ‘Adults Only’ notification on the cover.

‘Slow Death’ No. 9 (August 1978) was devoted to exposing the dark side of nuclear power. The cover illustration is by Greg Irons, who also did the first story in the book, ‘Our Friend the Atom’. The other content is ‘Faustus II’ is by Michael Becker, ‘Beyond the Wall’ (posted here) by Dennis Ellefson, ‘Lights Out’ by Errol McCarthy, and ‘Close Encounters with a Blurred Mind’ by Tim Boxell.

I can’t say that No. 9 was one of the better issues. The stories are rather pedestrian, and lack the overtly horror-oriented content of the entries in other issues. But this was considered edgy stuff back in the days before non- Comics Code books were a staple of the store shelves.

Book Review: Gate of Ivrel

Book Review: 'Gate of Ivrel' by C. J. Cherryh 3 / 5 Stars

‘Gate of Ivrel’ was published in 1976 as DAW book No. 188. The cover art for this printing is by Michael Whelan. 

This was author Carolyn Janice Cherryh's first published novel. Succeeding volumes in this ‘Morgaine Trilogy’ include ‘Well of Shiuan’ (1978) and ‘Fires of Azeroth’ (1979). Cherryh produced a fourth book in 1988, ‘Exile’s Gate’. The first three volumes are available in the DAW omnibus ‘The Morgaine Saga’ (2001).

My review of 'Well of Shiuan' is here.

My review of 'Fire of Azeroth' is here.

The Gates are portals to wormholes capable of mediating instantaneous travel not only from one locale to another, but, via use of the ‘major’ or ‘universal’ Gate, to other planets. Built long ago by a humanoid race called the qhal, the Gates also permit travel back in time; this is fraught with danger, as a careless journey can lead to interference with causality and the triggering of a ‘time-quake’. 

One or more of such time-quakes have led to the destruction of qhal civilization. The humans who have descended from the qhal Empire have decided that the remaining Gates must be destroyed to prevent further catastrophes.

'Ivrel' takes place on the planet Andur-Kursh, which has a medieval level of technology. Vanye, an outcast tribesman, finds himself forced into the service of a mysterious woman named Morgaine, who vanished a century ago after an effort to destroy the Gate of Ivrel, the universal gate on this world, failed. Awakened from suspended animation by Vanye, Morgaine renews the quest to destroy the Gate of Ivrel.

The novel is one long chase sequence as the hapless Vanye accompanies Morgaine on her single-minded journey to the northern reaches, where lies the kingdom of Hjemur, and the Gate of Ivrel.

En route, there are various violent encounters with clans of superstitious, but cunning, characters, and much of the book’s adventures revolve around the efforts of Vanye and Morgaine to overcome one batch of pursuers after another.  

The bulk of the narrative is devoted to chronicling the various psychodramas that arise between Vanye and his sometime allies and adversaries. These psychodramas are rendered in lengthy passages of rather opaque dialogue, which tries the patience of reader. It doesn't help matters that Vanye is remarkably dumb, and prone to doing things that lead to all manner of obstacles for Morgaine and her quest.

Morgaine plainly is modeled on Michael Moorcock’s ‘Elric’ character, what with her bouts of self-abnegation, doomed sword ‘Changeling’, pale complexion, and white mane of hair. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, 'Gate of Ivrel' is devoid of the dark humor that makes the Elric novels stand out as sword and sorcery adventures.

‘Gate’ suffers from some stilted writing: tree branches ‘writhe’ against the night sky, the clopping of horses’ hooves sounds ‘lonely’, and no one ever employs contractions in their dialogue, making many conversations wordy and rather pretentious. 

However the novel features some entertaining characters, a well-realized world, an interesting quest, and, unlike many contemporary fantasy novels, its short length (191 pp.) means it can be read in a few day’s time. And if you like it, three more installments await.

The Pudsuit: Quintessential 70s wardrobe

The 'Pudsuit' : A quintessential 70s sci-fi wardrobe item











Left to right: ‘Killraven’ from Marvel comics, 1973; 'Vampirella', from Warren Comics, late 60s; and bottom, a hapless Sean Connery in a still from the movie Zardoz, 1974.

My brothers and I referred to them as ‘pudsuits’, since they left uncovered most of the body save for one’s privates. They seem to have been an exclusively 70s phenomenon, since I haven’t observed many dedicated sci-fi characters in the popular culture sporting similar outfits over the past 20 – 25 years.

'Alien: The Illustrated Story' by Archie Goodwin and Walter Simonson

‘Heavy Metal’ magazine scored a genuine coup by winning the licensing rights to 20^th Century Fox’s science fiction thriller ‘Alien’. The magazine made the most of this bounty by arranging to publish a number of books dealing with the film, including ‘The Book of Alien’, a behind-the-scenes look at the film’s production; and ‘Alien: The Illustrated Story’. With art by Walter Simonson and story by Archie Goodwin, Alien: The Illustrated Story was a larger size ‘graphic novel’, released in the Spring of 1979, prior to the film’s debut on May 25. As such, it contained spoilers, so that before I saw the film I knew what was going to happen….

Sections of ‘Alien’ were serialized in the May and June issues of Heavy Metal, and I’ve scanned some of those excerpts for presentation here. I don’t want to spoil the rest of the book’s contents by presenting the ‘Alien-specific pages’. I will say that the book stays true to the film’s script, while at the same time successfully presenting the material in a memorable and distinctive way. Unfortunately, comic adaptations of subsequent Alien films (I’m thinking of Dark Horse’s Alien³ effort in particular) have strayed from this attitude, and have tended to come across as sub-par efforts to cash in on the licensing rights.

Suffice it to say that the ‘Alien’ graphic novel does a great job of communicating the film’s creepy, and sometimes gory, nature. Simonson is adept at presenting H. R. Giger’s unique style of ‘bio-mechanoid’ artwork throughout the book, starting with the careful illustration of the ‘Alien’ title. The one area where the comic falls a bit short, is in mimicking the very dark and drizzly look of the film’s spaceship interiors; but this was in the days before computer graphics programs were available for creating the more complex color and texture schemes such fidelity would have required.

The ‘Alien’ creature is so much a part of pop culture mythology nowadays that it is perceived in a kind of amiable light (as it sometimes appears in the Brewster Rockit: Space Guy’ comic strip), but back in 1979 the creature was a genuinely scary thing. In fact, when Kenner released the first ‘Alien’ toy in ‘79, kids were so frightened by it that some stores actually removed it from their shelves, forcing would-be buyers to ask the store managers for the toy to be brought up from the stock room - !

Fans of the film and comic art in general may find it worthwhile to add ‘Alien: The Illustrated Story’ to their collection. It’s an interesting and worthwhile effort at the sort of synergistic marketing that’s commonplace nowadays for every and all Summer Blockbusters, but back in ’79, it was a bit novel and innovative. 20^th Century Fox had undoubtedly learned of the immense power of cross-marketing after the tumult two years earlier of ‘Star Wars’, and was aware that the fans of that film would be lining up for ‘Alien’, as well as happily handing over cash for associated memorabilia.

Book Review: 'Life With Lancelot', by John T. Phillifent

2/5 Stars

John T. Phillifent (1916 – 1973) was a British author who published a number of SF novels and short stories in the 1970s, some under the pen name of John Rackham. ‘Life With Lancelot’ (1973) is part of Ace Double No. 48245, with ‘Hunting on Kunderer’ by William Barton, serving as the other portion of the book. At 132 pp in length ‘Lancelot’ consists of three stories: ‘Stainless Knight’, ‘Logical Knight’, and ‘Arabian Knight’.

Lancelot Lake is a janitor on a space station in the Galactic Federation; Lake is prone to spending most of his waking hours engaged in Walter Mitty-style ruminations. His life gets a major turnaround when he foolishly commandeers control of a damaged spaceship, and fails to prevent it from crashing on the surface of the planet of the Shogleet, technologically advanced creatures who are able to shape-shift, and become invisible, among other useful traits. The Shogleet revive the dying Lancelot, and using his brain’s imagery as a guide, re-create him as the physical embodiment of the Lancelot of mythology: not too bright, but strong and handsome.

Lancelot returns to the Federation and enrolls as a trouble-shooter for worlds where the cultures are lodged in a feudal or medieval state. A ‘Prime Directive’ prohibits the overt intervention of the Federation, except as a covert operation cloaked in the guise of the existing technology.

Each of the three stories sees Lancelot dispatched to a different planet, where he must intervene to prevent rouge Federation agents, or their loosed technology, from disrupting the normal order of the host society. The main focus of ‘Lancelot’ is humor, as our witless hero blunders about the landscape, getting into various combats with medieval knights or dissolute Arabian caliphs. Phillifent tends to center each tale on sophomoric humor derived from encounters between Lancelot and a series of lubricious females. Overall, the book reads as a gently sarcastic take on SF and fantasy clichés, and owes more than a bit to Harry Harrison and his writings.

‘Life with Lancelot’ is mildly entertaining, but that’s about it. If readers stumble upon it, that’s fine, but I don’t believe it’s worth a deliberate search in the used bookstore catalogues.