Something To Read by Ken Slater

Many efforts by anthologists, editors and experts (self-styled and otherwise) to formulate a "definite" definition of science-fiction literature ignore one point. One point of very great importance. Too many of the people engaged in offering these definitions and counter-definitions omit to check the dictionary for the accepted definition of "science," but take as a basis the meaning which they have personally given to that term—a meaning which is often inaccurate; and also contrary to the "personal" meanings given to the term by others engaged in the argument. I'd recommend you to look the word "science" up in a good dictionary, notice that it covers quite a lot more than a reference to the physical sciences, and then think the matter over and let me have your definition. Just drop me a postcard or a twenty-four page letter in care of Nebula SF....

Anyway, the point is that some of the books I review here do not fit in with anyone's definition of s-f, but I still feel that they are of interest to the s-f reader in the larger sense. Please bear with me when I happen to mention some work which is way outside your frame of reference for s-f—if I tried to stay inside some of those "frames" I'd soon have to pack up; I have a letter here from one reader who tells me, categorically, that if space travel is not involved, the story is not science fiction!

If you are in any way inclined to agree with that, don't read BROTHER BEAR, by Guy Richards (Michael Joseph, 206pp, 12/6). In this novel General Ketov, Commander of the Russian Army's First Special Corps, invades and occupies a large section of New York . Unofficially! In the General's own words 'Remember that the moment our manoeuvre turns into a war we will have failed!' The Americans are flabbergasted at the impudence of this invasion, successfully carried out without a single casualty on either side; the Russians disown General Ketov and his troops; everyone (except the General) is alarmed and extremely puzzled. Just what the General was attempting I'll leave you to discover, when you read the book; but bear in mind that it is not "s-f " in the sense of any supermen, superweapons or even superpolitics being involved. The action could take place tomorrow—or even have started last week—so far as the time element is concerned. But it is a book which I recommend to the wider-minded s-f reader, a book with a strong satirical flavour, with humour and tragedy. And entertaining even if you don't like s-f!

The name of T. H. White is well-known to the fantasy fan, if not to the s-f reader. Mr. White is one of those authors who are popular with the literate public in general, and yet have written many books with a special appeal to the fantasy reader. THE MASTER (Jonathan Cape, 256 pp, 15/-) resides on Rockall, that isolated mountain top projecting above the sea someplace betwixt Britain and Iceland which features often in the "Shipping Forecast" of weather. With him are sundry subsidiary characters (of whom only four attain any prominence in the story) and the vibrators with which he will subdue the world and lead it on the rightful path.

The Master is something of a superman—an adept at a form of mind control, extremely aged (165 at least), and a bit of a whiz all round. His chief aide, a Chinese gentleman, is also a budding superman, but not a patch on the Master.

To Rockall come the children of the Duke of Lancaster, the latter gentleman having a desire to land on Rockall mainly because it is almost impossible to land on Rockall (White's characters are so human as to caricature humanity), and being children they explore and discover a door to the hol­lowed interior where hide The Master and his employees. Naturally, Nicky and Judy, with their dog Jokey, are captured and hidden away by the dwellers in the rock, and in due course the Duke, resigned to their loss in the sea, departs.

The story starts from here, with the children attempting to escape and, after they have discovered the, Master's intentions, to defeat him ; the other major characters—the doctor, the Chinaman and the helicopter pilot—all try to use the children as tools to defeat the Master for their own private ends. The Master foils all these various attempts, and is almost successful in carrying his own plans to a conclusion; just why he fails is not to be disclosed here and is a typical T.H.White move in the guessing game he plays with his readers.

You'll have gathered that the science-fiction content of the story is pretty simple, and the plot is not exactly spectacular. But from my viewpoint the charm and interest of Mr. White's writings is their simple humanity, and the novelty of many of his concepts—the needles of gauges "lay most of the time as still as crocodiles on a sand bank"!

This book is not likely to appeal to the more mechanistic science-fiction addict, but for those of you who have read Mr. White's Arthurian fantasies, or the Lilliputian romance of Mistress Masham's Repose, with enjoyment, here is another helping of the same served with a sauce of science-fiction instead of fantasy.

There can be no argument about THE DEEP RANGE (Muller, 224pp, 13/6), which is Arthur C. Clarke's latest contribution to science-fictional literature. Even my correspondent who rules that "space" is an essential must accept that—indirectly — his conditions are satisfied. Before the story starts the hero was a spaceman. When the story opens it happens that he is just restarting life as a member of World Food Organisation, Marine Division, Bureau of Whales!

Walter Franklin was involved in an accident which has made him unfit for further service in space; further, it has cut him off from his family who are Martian second- and third-generation colonists and therefore unable to live on Franklin's home world, Terra. Franklin, on Earth, cannot go to space again. Rehabilitation on Earth is therefore essential, and the Marine Division is the place for Walt, it is decided. Walt's personal affairs provide a counterpoint to the larger theme of the story; the development of the sources of food in the sea. The ocean is becoming a popular theme for science-fiction stories today, and so there is nothing new in Mr. Clarke's major concepts. But there was nothing new about a flight to the moon, or a trip to Mars—except Mr. Clarke's descriptive and convincing writing ability—when he wrote PRELUDE TO SPACE and SANDS OF MARS....! I think the best way to sum up my opinion on this book is simply to say 'He's done it again!' Highly recommended.

PRISONERS OF SATURN by Donald Suddaby (Bodley Head, 190pp, illus., 12/6) is a juvenile, undisguised. It can still be read with pleasure by the more open-minded adult s-f addict, because Mr. Suddaby has an accomplished narrative style which holds the interest. A most unusual style of space vessel is being constructed by a joint American -British - Russian team, and by a series of minor happenings the narrator—a musician—becomes involved with the team and is invited along on the voyage to Saturn. On arrival, Saturn proves to be a most unexpected kind of place, and even less expected is the fact that it is inhabited by living clouds (this is not original, of course, but some of Mr. Suddaby's concepts in the book are certainly novel) who develop a pseudo-human to communicate with the Earthmen, and act as their instructor and guide. Moral arguments follow, the Earthmen coming out of these somewhat the worse, and finally they decide on escape, an act which is accomplished after some trouble. On their return to Earth they discover that the "trouble" was faked, and that in fact they had been intended to return—accompanied by two of the clouds who promptly remove all possibility of the Earthmen repeating the construction of the space vessel, by destroying the plans, buildings and all information concerning the ship—including the information held in the minds of the builders. Amusing, well illustrated in a style peculiar to Harold Jones, and recommended for the younger s-f reader.

Mention must also be made of pb editions of SHE, by H. Rider Haggard (Hodder & Stoughton, 2/-), MEN, MARTIANS AND MACHINES by Eric Frank Russell (Corgi, 2/6); and of A LAND FIT FOR ‘EROS by John Atkins and J. B. Pick (Arco, 224pp, 15/-). Only give your attention to the latter if, in addition to fantasy, you have an addiction to MAD Comics, shaggy dog stories and the Goon Show. For some reason there seems to be a very high proportion of fantasy fans with this additional interest. It might be interesting to conduct a survey... but then, Messrs. Atkins & Pick seem to have done something similar already!  

from Nebula No.22 July 1957

 

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