Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book through a Goodreads giveaway for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was requested or offered.
The life of a soldier is hard and often dangerous, but the life of a soldier’s spouse has its hardships and hazards as well. This book collects the stories of various British Army wives from the Crimean War (where wives sometimes shared tents near the front lines with their husbands) to the modern day, when social media allows spouses (now including husbands) to worry about the servicemember’s safety in “real time.”
After chapters on spousal travel and accommodations, the remainder of the book is in roughly chronological order. There tends to be more information on officers’ wives than those of enlisted men, as especially in the early days they were more likely to be literate and thus leave behind letters, journals and memoirs. Most of the women covered are ordinary people who rose to the occasion, but there’s also Lady Elizabeth Butler, who was a famous painter even before marrying a famous soldier.
The epilogue is about life after the army, both in the general sense, and the fates of the specific women used as examples in the book. There’s a nice center section of pictures, many in color, plus a bibliography, end notes and an index.
As always, learning about the lives of people in unusual circumstances is fascinating, and there is quite a variety of women and outcomes represented. The writing is decent, and some sections are emotionally affecting.
On the other hand, covering so many different stories means that some feel as though they’ve gotten short shrift. Edith Tolkien, for example, gets two pages, mostly about the codes her husband (J.R.R.) slipped into his letters to let her know where he was. And the section on soldiers who came home from World War One with facial disfigurements has no direct testimony from wives at all.
That said, this book should be of interest to those interested in military history (especially about women in military history) and those considering being the spouse of a military person.
And now, a video of the British Army Wives’ Chorus:
Book Review: The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen
Kay and Gerda are best friends who live in adjacent garrets, and often visit each other across the roof, where their parents have installed flower boxes with rosebushes. They are like brother and sister, and very happy together until one day Kay’s personality changes. He has been pierced in heart and eye by shards of the Devil’s distorting mirror, so now Kai only sees the flaws and ugliness of people, and his heart is slowly turning to ice.
In mid-winter, Kay recklessly goes sledding without Gerda or any other companion, and winds up hitching his sled to the sleigh of the Snow Queen. As it happens, the queen of all snow has seen Kay before, and decides to keep him, kissing away his memory of family and friends. Everyone else is convinced that Kay has frozen to death or drowned in the river, but Gerda is not so sure. When the weather thaws, Gerda goes looking for Kay, having many adventures along the way.
This is one of the many fairy tales written by Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), one of Denmark’s most famous authors. First printed in 1844, it’s also one of his longest fantasy works (but still only about forty pages without illustrations) and much acclaimed. It’s been adapted many times, and has inspired other works such as the movie Frozen.
Since this is a public domain story, easily downloadable for free from Project Gutenberg, or available at your local library in the children’s section, the main reasons to look at this particular edition are the fresh translation by Jean Hersholt and illustrations by Finnish-heritage artist Sanna Annukka. The language flows well (though parents will want to read it with their children the first go-round to explain some of the words.) The illustrations are striking, and perhaps a little frightening in places (this would be a good time to introduce young readers to the variety of Scandinavian art.) The art is very stylized, which works well for the magical beings involved in the story.
The Snow Queen is very much steeped in Scandinavian Christian folklore, from the hobgoblin who is in fact the Devil and his cruel mirror, to Gerda’s prayers bringing angels to defend her in time of need. It’s stated that Gerda’s simple faith and innocence give her power–it never occurs to her that it’s odd to be able to speak to flowers (but not get much out of the exchange) or that a robber girl will suddenly choose to help her on her quest rather than kill her.
And this tale is surprising rich in female characters: the wise Grandmother, alien Snow Queen, selfish Flower Witch, clever Princess and wild Robber Girl, as well as sweet Gerda herself. Some of these characters would make good stories with their own adventures. It’s notable that there is no confrontation with the Snow Queen at the end–she’s away on a business trip when Gerda arrives to free Kay. Perhaps this is for the best, as someone must see that snow gets where it belongs.
One aspect that may be troubling for parents is that after Kay is affected by the distorting mirror, he only finds beauty in mathematics, logic and symmetry. He’s noted for being able to do arithmetic in his head–with fractions!
The book has sturdy covers and thick pages, so should survive frequent re-reading by youngsters well. Recommended to families that don’t already have a copy of this classic tale, and people who like this style of art.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from Blogging for Books for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was requested or offered.
And now, let’s have the trailer of a Finnish movie adaptation!
Book Review: Greek Myths: A Wonder Book for Girls and Boys by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Tanglewood is a large country house out in the Berkshires which is owned by the Pringle family. They have a great many relatives with young children who often come visiting, and it frequently falls to their sole teenage relative, Eustace Bright, to entertain the younglings. It’s a good thing that young Mr. Bright knows many fascinating stories, and delights in the telling of them! Through the year, he regales his audience with tales of Greek mythology.
Nathaniel Hawthorne is one of the great American writers, creating The Scarlet Letter among other fine books, and was part of the Romantic and Gothic movements in literature. As seen in the introduction to this volume, he was also a firm believer in the right of writers to adapt and modernize stories in the public domain to match the needs of a new audience.
So it is that Eustace Bright feels free to switch details up, omit large sections and invent new plot points or characterization as he tells six stories from the Greek myth cycles. Covered in this volume are: Perseus & Medusa (which was also covered in The Blue Fairy Book which I have previously reviewed); King Midas and the Golden Touch; Pandora’s Box (lots of liberties taken here); Hercules and the Three Golden Apples; Philemon & Baucis; and Bellerophon & Pegasus. Introductions and postludes detail how each story comes to be told and the children’s reactions.
Mr. Hawthorne has some fun with his characters–Eustace has the sympathy of the narrator, but we are reminded from time to time that he is, after all, just a very bright teenager. The words “sophomoric erudition” are used, and Eustace has a fourth wall-breaking speech in which he admits that Hawthorne could in fact rewrite him and all his relatives at will. The member of the child audience who gets the most development is Primrose, a saucy thirteen year old lass who pokes fun at her older cousin’s self-importance even as she clamors for more of his stories.
The writing is lively and often humorous, but the “modernization” of the Greek myths ironically makes the telling seem old-fashioned. On the other hand, modern children might find the sections set in “the present day” more alien than the familiar stories of myth. There are also many fine illustrations by Walter Crane, including several color plates–sensitive parents should know that there’s some artistic nudity. And though some of the ickier aspects of Greek mythology are glossed over or omitted, there’s still plenty of violence.
The edition I have is a Barnes & Noble reprint; unlike The Blue Fairy Book it seems not to have been shortened. It’s a handsome book that should withstand being read by children.
Recommended for parents who want to introduce their children to relatively child-safe tellings of Greek mythology. I would suggest reading it with your children the first go-round to explain the setting of the frame story and help with some archaic words.
Anime Review: Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, Vol. 03
It is the year 2030, and after the effects of World Wars Three & Four, Japan is relatively unscathed, having become one of the world’s economic and technological powerhouses. In particular, they lead the world in cybernetics, and various cyborg upgrades are commonplace. Of course, this means that cybercrime is even more of a threat than in 2002 (when this series first aired) and the government agency “Public Security Section 9” is detailed to deal with those crimes, especially if they also involve terrorism.
Section 9’s top agent is Major Motoko Kusanagi, who is a full-body cyborg, a “ghost in the shell.” She has been in this state since childhood, and is adept at transferring her consciousness into alternate robot bodies (though she has a strong preference for ones shaped like female human beings.) Along with her superior combat skills, this makes her a whiz at secret agent missions.
The Major and her colleagues will need every bit of their skill to battle the world-class hacker and cyberterrorist known as The Laughing Man, whose real face is impossible to see by anyone or anything with cybernetic connections, replaced by a bizarre logo adorned with Catcher in the Rye quotes.
Standalone Complex is a science-fiction anime series based on the Ghost in the Shell cyberpunk manga by Masamune Shirow. While it shares many characters and most of its background with the manga and previous adaptations, it is not necessarily in continuity with those, so there are some minor contradictions. “Motoko Kusanagi” (a name rich with connotations in Japanese culture, equivalent to naming a British secret agent “Victoria Excalibur”) may not even be the Major’s real name.
The structure of the show is interesting; odd-numbered episodes are “complex” and tie into the Laughing Man plot arc, while even-numbered episodes are “standalone” and tell individual stories.
As it happens, I got the third DVD volume of the series for Christmas, so let’s take a closer look at that.
Episode 9, “Chat! Chat! Chat!” takes place almost entirely within a virtual reality chat room for discussion of the Laughing Man phenomenon. This…is not a good episode to come into the series on, as it is largely just people sitting around having conversations. And not even the main characters (except the Major in disguise) but a bunch of people who probably didn’t appear before and won’t appear again. We do get some background on what is public knowledge about the Laughing Man (not much) and some discussion of whether it’s even the same Laughing Man from previous incidents or a copycat.
Episode 10, “Jungle Cruise” focuses on Batou, a former Army Ranger with obviously cybernetic eyes. A serial killer is loose in the city of Niihama, who skins his victims alive in a distinctive fashion. The identity of the killer is quickly revealed when two CIA operatives from the American Empire (World War Three was not kind to the United States, which split up into three countries, of which the Empire is the most active in world affairs) appear to ask Section 9 for help capturing him.
We learn that the killer was part of a CIA black ops mission in Southern Mexico known as “Project Sunset.” It involved murdering civilians in particularly horrific fashion to break the will of the enemy. Batou, as part of the UN peacekeeping forces, encountered the killer, but was unable to stop him. The killer’s war has not ended, now brought to the shores of Japan, Does this also mean that Batou’s war is not over?
Episode 11, “Portraitz” follows Togusa, the least cyberized field agent of Section 9 (just a “cyberbrain” that allows him to communicate with other people who have cyberbrains) as he infiltrates a facility for children with Closed Shell Syndrome, a condition where one becomes too dependent on cybernetic communication, making it difficult to operate in the real world even while becoming a savant with computers. There’s something sinister going on in the facility; but is it one of the staff who’s responsible, or one of the patients?
Episode 12, “Escape From” is two related stories. In the first half, a Tachikoma (an artificial intelligence robot that serves as a small tank for Section 9) goes walkabout without orders, heading into the city and learning about the human concept of death. Along the way, it picks up a mysterious box. In the second half, we learn that if someone cybernetically connects to the box, their “ghost” vanishes inside it and won’t come out. The Major must investigate, but will she too be seduced by what’s inside the box and lost forever?
This one manages to touch on some deeper philosophical topics: death, the rapidly developing individuality of the Tachikoma AIs, escapism and artistic integrity.
Each episode ends with a short comedy skit starring the Tachikomas, usually tying in with the plot of the episode somehow. Also included in this volume are interviews with Batou’s actor and the sound director.
The opening credits are full-on CGI, which is a bit jarring, and really showcases how silly the Major’s default outfit looks, especially from behind. (It reminds me of the US superhero comics fad for putting their heroines in costumes that were basically glorified swimsuits.) The music is good, though.
I liked “Jungle Cruise” best of the episodes in this volume.
Content notes: “Jungle Cruise” does involve skinning people alive, and we see some of the results. There’s a nude female statue in “Portraitz”, which some parents might find unsuitable for younger viewers. (But honestly, if you let them watch the previous episode…) The dub version may have some rough language.
Overall, I am looking forward to seeing the entire series so that I can make more sense of the Laughing Man episodes. Recommended to fans of other Ghost in the Shell versions, and cyberpunk fans in general.
Here’s the opening music, for those who like that sort of thing:
Comic Book Review: Superman Adventures Volume 1 edited by Mike McAvennie
After the success of the Batman animated series of the 1990s, the DC Animated Universe became a “universe” with the release of the Superman animated show that shared the same continuity. While perhaps not quite as brilliant as its predecessor, the Superman animated series was still very good and depicted the characters well.
So naturally, there was a comic book tie-in series as well. Paul Dini (who’d worked on the TV show) and Scott McCloud wrote issues, with various pencillers and inker Terry Austin imitating the show’s artstyle. In this first volume, we primarily see sequels to television episodes.
Some standout stories: Issue 2 has “Superman’s Girlfriend” who is not Lois Lane, but an ordinary woman who allows a joke to roll out of control because she initially likes the attention. Which is fine until she’s held hostage by Metallo, the man with the Kryptonite heart. Issue 5 has the return of Livewire, an electrically-powered woman who’d been created for the TV show. This time she’s striking a blow against the patriarchy by banning men from all electronic media. Somehow. It’s a bit heavy-handed, but allows Lois and a female TV reporter to bond a bit–it’s the first time the latter has been allowed to be the primary reporter on real news stories.
#7&8 is a two-parter in which two Kryptonian criminals get access to size-changing technology. It’s most interesting for spotlighting police officer “Dangerous” Dan Turpin (a Jack Kirby creation who was made to look even more like his creator after Kirby died) and his refusal to back down against impossible odds, despite his utter lack of superpowers. And Issue 9 features a teenager who has two heroes, Superman and Lex Luthor. We see some depth from Luthor in this one, as he does seem to care about the boy, even as his greed ensures that the teenager will lose faith in him.
These are kid-friendly stories (#10 even has a kid help Clark Kent solve a mystery) with enough depth for adult fans to enjoy. There’s a certain amount of fantasy violence, and some people die in the backstory, but the worst that happens to anyone in the present day is a trip to the hospital.
The art style may take some getting used to for those who never saw the show, but is clear and effective.
Recommended for young Superman fans, and Nineties kids with nostalgia.
Manga Review: Showa 1926 1939 a History of Japan by Shigeru Mizuki
This is the first volume of Shigeru Mizuki’s massive history of Japan during the reign of Emperor Hirohito, the “Showa Era,” It was a long reign, covering most of the Twentieth Century, from 1926-1989. In addition to the larger story of Japan, it is also his autobiography, as Mizuki’s earliest childhood memories coincide with the beginning of that era.
This volume opens several years earlier, with the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 which devastated Tokyo. The repercussions of this, combined with fiscal mismanagement, created a financial crisis that crippled Japan’s economy. The optimism and liberalization of the Taisho period took a huge hit. Japan struggled along until 1929 and the worldwide effects of the Great Depression hit.
A combination of the Red Scare (the belief that Communists were about to take over), military successes and government incompetence led to the rise of right-wing organizations, especially military cliques. Japan became ever more aggressive against its neighbors in Asia, setting up the puppet state of Manchukuo and grabbing ever more territory from China.
Japan became a rogue state, leaving the League of Nations when that body attempted to intervene in its conquests. Only Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy recognized Manchukuo, and Japan’s alliance with those nations was about to drag it into World War Two.
This is a “warts and all” history, which covers events that many Japanese schoolkids might not be taught in official classes, or have glossed over for them. There are many painful topics in here, so despite childish hijinks in the parts dealing with Shigeru’s early life, I would recommend it for senior high school students and up.
Warts and all is also how Mizuki depicts himself as a child and young man. Naturally athletic but lazy, bright but unmotivated, sensitive but engaging in fights both as part of a gang and solo. It will take the horrors of war (as depicted in the third volume) to force him into a responsible adult life. Perhaps he got some of it from his father, who is shown as a Micawber-like optimist despite his economic woes.
There’s a lot of names and dates, so the end-notes are very helpful–you still might want to have Wikipedia open to assist with some of the more obscure bits and to cross-reference what else was going on in the world at the time. Some bits come across as very dry, making the personal stories a relief.
The art may be jarring for those unused to Mizuki’s style; many pages are drawn directly from photographs in a realistic style, while others are done in a very loose, cartoony fashion. It’s also kind of weird to have Nezumi-Otoko (Rat-man) as the narrator of the more serious history portion-he would not seem the most reliable of narrators.
Overall, not as interesting as the third volume, which features Shigeru’s most harrowing experiences, but well worth seeking out from the library.
Magazine Review: The Saturday Evening Post 6/10/61 edited by Ben Hibbs
The Saturday Evening Post ran weekly from 1897-1963; after several format changes, it is now published six times a year. The Post was well known for its lavish illustrations and a combination of current event articles and short stories by popular writers. I got this issue from the month of my birth as an early birthday present. At the time, this magazine was printed in the broadsheet format, which is too large for my scanner–thus the truncated cover image showing only a part of Amos Spewell’s painting of tourists in Venice.
To entice potential customers at newsstands, the Post front-loaded the illustrations in spreads at the front of the magazine, and each of the articles and stories continued in the word-heavy back pages interspersed with a few cartoons. There were also many large illustrated advertisements–one for tampons is notable for not telling the reader what the product is, showing the product or saying what it’s used for exactly; if I didn’t know from the name of the product, I’d assume it’s some kind of skin cleanser or deodorant.
The Post was also known for having a staunchly conservative editorial stance, and this is on full display in an editorial expressing relief that leftist thought was vanishing from college campuses and conservatism was on the rise. “Of course, the battle isn’t over. Queer characters still appear on college campuses sponsored by ‘liberal’ groups.” Oh, if only they knew!
In the lively letters to the editor section, comments on an article about Bobby Darrin reveal changes in our pop culture, with people being shocked or pleased that he was willing to share personal opinions with the press even if they didn’t match the public’s desired stance. One letter writer asked why an article on “Presidents in Retirement” did not include FDR. The editor waggishly replies that the place that man retired to is not on the reporter’s regular beat. There’s also a couple of letters on segregation, responding negatively to a previous letter writer’s suggestion that since Southerners didn’t go to Northern states to demand segregation, Northerners should reciprocate about desegregation.
Let’s look at the contents.
“The White House Insiders” by Stewart Alsop is a look at President Kennedy’s political staffers (all men, all white-one had a black deputy) and how they helped him keep on top of what was happening in the country and the world. It goes into detail about JFK’s management style. The only top staff name most younger readers are likely to recognize is Arthur Schlesinger Jr., but Henry Kissinger is briefly mentioned as a second-stringer.
“Death of a Demon” by Rex Stout is part one of three of a Nero Wolfe mystery novella. The sedentary detective is briefly engaged by a woman who wants to show him the gun she will not use to shoot her husband. That’s…kind of suspicious, and when the husband turns up dead from a bullet wound, some questions are raised. Archie Goodwin, Wolfe’s leg man, is pretty sure the woman didn’t do it, but there are gaping holes in her story. It’s certainly an intriguing beginning! Happily, this story was included in Homicide Trinity by Rex Stout, which you can probably get through interlibrary loan.
“How the Doctors Saved Chicago’s Burned Children” by Alice Lake is a look at how St. Anne’s Hospital dealt with the victims of a fire at Our Lady of the Angels School in 1958. 95 people died immediately or in the aftermath, but this story concentrates on the survivors. Part of the credit for St. Anne’s quick and organized response goes to disaster preparedness they had undertaken after a fire some years before had caught the hospital unprepared for multiple victims. There are details of the treatment s used and updates on a couple of the survivors as of mid-1961. One of the treatments tried was using blood transfusions from recovering adult burn victims in the hope that their blood had antigens against “burn toxin.” (From the little I could find, research into this treatment has shown scant evidence of effectiveness.) For more on the fire, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Our_Lady_of_the_Angels_School_fire
“Handsome Samaritan” by Phyllis Duganne is a story about an airline pilot driving to vacation in Florida when he stops to help some stranded motorists. One of them is a very pretty woman, but he’s supposed to be meeting his fiancee. The pilot comes to realize he is much more compatible with this new woman who is more interested in who he is than who she can make him become. I found this story uncomfortable, and skimmed to the end.
“The Poacher” by Gene Coghlan, set in Depression-era North Dakota, has two brothers growing up on an isolated farm, and using traps to earn a little pocket money. One brother is laid up with a broken leg, and the protagonist takes advantage of this to claim that a fur animal was caught in one of his traps, rather than his brother’s. Presumably he learned a valuable lesson about life, but the conclusion pages are missing from my copy. Unfortunately, Mr. Coghlan doesn’t seem to have any books in print.
“The Case of the Comical Banker” by Harold H. Martin, profiles Mills Bee Lane, Jr., then president of the Citizens & Southern National Bank in Atlanta, Georgia. Known for a jovial style (unlike the stuffy conservatism usually associated with bankers of the period), his business acumen turned the C&S into the largest bank in the South. You may be more familiar with his nephew, Mills Bee Lane III, who became a famous boxing referee and TV judge. Lane, Jr. was credited in the article for jumpstarting tobacco farming in the Atlanta area when cotton took a dive in the market.
“The Meaning of the Eichmann Trial” by T.S. Matthews was published about halfway through the war crimes trial of Adolf Eichmann. (He was found guilty and hanged.) The article talks a lot about the trial conditions and the thoroughness of the Israeli court system. “Israel means to show the world that, in the British phrase, ‘justice is not only done but seen to have been done.” It also talks about the character of Israel as a country, and its people. The trial took place in a newly built suburb of Jerusalem, because at that time the Old City was in the hands of Jordan. This is a very moving article, and I think the best in the issue.
“Cop with Camera Eyes” by Thomas Walsh features a police detective with “photographic memory”, if he sees something, and it’s important to him at a later time, he will remember it clearly. It triggers when he notices the same person in the crowd three times during a date he’s having with his new neighbor. After safely returning his date home, The cop ambushes this tail. Surprise! It’s a federal agent! Seems the attractive foreign lady is suspected of being a Communist spy. Reluctantly, the cop agrees to keep an eye on the girl he has come to adore, but then she vanishes–and for the first time, the cop’s memory fails him at a critical moment. Can he crack the case before innocents are killed? It’s a pretty good story; I don’t know if it’s ever been reprinted, but Mr. Walsh’s Nightmare in Manhattan is considered a superior mystery novel and that you can find.
“Is Nature Getting Neurotic?” by Corey Ford is a humor piece about how over-complicated gardening and landscaping have become, requiring the homeowner to employ multiple specialists and expensive treatments just to keep the lawn alive.
“In the Best Interest of the Service” by Walt Grove takes us inside an Air Force base. A major must make a difficult decision because of the need for unit cohesiveness. A rescue chopper pilot is being accused of cowardice by one of his crew members. This is complicated by the officer being a Negro, and the crew member being a white man from the Deep South and the type of person who nowadays would be decrying “political correctness.” He doesn’t mean any harm by the N-word, he claims, so why shouldn’t he use it? But that does raise the stink of possible racism. Oh, and the chopper pilot is the major’s best friend on the base, so there may be the question of favoritism. Who will be getting transferred out? The resolution to the situation may be a little too convenient, but is satisfying, and inspires the major to take some steps in his personal life he’s put off too long. Mr. Grove wrote several action books about pilots, but it doesn’t appear any are currently in print.
“Comeback of the Giant Turtle” by Bern Keating is about efforts to increase the population of the green sea turtle (so called because of its distinctive green fat deposits inside the shell) in the Caribbean. Despite these and other preservation efforts, the green sea turtle remains an endangered species.
And finally, “The Big Swindle” by Clarence Budington Kelland is part 5 of 6. Twins Pet and Pete Du Chillon have finally come of age, and are attempting to make sense of what their guardian, Mortimer Norton, has done with the family company. It seems all sorts of shady shenanigans have been going on! The twins have some sort of scheme to expose the truth, involving a phony foreign prince and double-bluffing the man who runs security for Du Chillon Industries. This installment suffers from coming in the middle of the story, but I think it’s also a pretty bad story. Pet and Pete, as well as their beloved grandmother, are the sort of people who the author tries hard to convince us are very witty, but come off snide instead. The funniest bit for me was one of the supporting characters denying the possibility of a “twins threesome” in such a way as to make me think he’s thought waay too much about the topic (and also never mentioning sex because this is a family magazine.) Mr. Kelland is largely forgotten, but once was popular enough that Harlan Ellison called him out by name for lowering the tastes of the American public.
There’s also short poems (amusing but forgettable), jokes and cartoons.
This was a fun look back at a moment in time just before I was born. Copies of the Post in bad condition can be found relatively cheaply; issues in excellent condition, or with stories by top authors, will set you back considerably more money. Also, you can visit the website of the current magazine: http://www.saturdayeveningpost.com/
Book Review: One in Three Hundred by J.T. McIntosh
Most of you will have run into some variant of the “Lifeboat Problem” at some point. (In my youth, it was done with bomb shelters due to the strong possibility of atomic war.) A disaster has occurred, and a large number of people are going to die. There is one ticket to safety, but only a limited number of spaces available. As it happens, you are the person put in charge of filling those spaces. Here’s a list of people longer than the number of available spots, tell us who lives and who dies. Usually, some choices are easy (the person with vital medical skills lives, while the banker dies because seriously no one cares about money right now) but other decisions are more difficult (your beloved granny who’s partially disabled or the hot woman who dumped you in college but has many good years left?)
And that’s the starting dilemma of this book, originally published as three novelettes in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science-Fiction in 1953. The first section, “One in Three Hundred” reveals that in the very near future, the sun is about to become hotter, making Earth uninhabitable. However, this will also raise the temperature of Mars to the point it will be barely livable. In the limited time left before this insolation happens, the governments of Earth have pooled their resources to build a fleet of ten-passenger “lifeships” to allow approximately one in every three hundred Earthlings to have a shot at joining the small scientific colony already on Mars.
Bill Easson is one of the Lieutenants chosen to pilot a lifeship, and to pick the ten passengers that will be on board. For this purpose, he’s been sent to the small Midwestern town of Simsville. He wastes no time drawing up a preliminary list, but as the deadline approaches, the small-town tranquility is ripped apart as the citizens reveal their hidden sides and true natures, so Bill is forced to revise his list repeatedly, up until the last moment.
“One in a Thousand”, the second section, has Bill and his passengers discover that the lifeship isn’t quite as safe as they’d been led to assume. Turns out that the Earth governments, decided to give a maximum number of people a small chance to survive, rather than a small number of people a maximum chance to survive. Thus the lifeships have been built to absolute minimum standards. (Bill does some calculations and figures that to build the lifeships to the correct standards, the number of potential passengers would have to be one in one million Earthlings.)
The lifeship crew must find a way to survive the rigors of space travel and perhaps more importantly, the landing!
Finally, in “One Too Many” those of Bill’s complement that survived the journey (including Bill) must weather the many dangers of Mars if they hope to have a future at all…but the greatest danger may be one they brought with them!
The first part is the most suspenseful, since we know that Bill survives (he’s narrating the story from several years in the future) but everyone else is on the chopping block. On the other hand, it makes the narration feel oddly detached; Bill is doing his level best not to get emotionally involved, even though he’s making very emotional choices.
The second and third parts are more SFnal, though this was clearly written before any humans had gone into space, so the author has to guess what zero-gravity conditions are like, let alone the problems of surviving on Mars. It’s also notable that this potential future (deliberately, probably) has no technological advances beyond those needed to get to Mars–Bill has to make all calculations aboard ship with pencil and paper, apparently not even getting a slide rule to work with. Atomic power is mentioned as having stalled out.
And it’s very clearly a deliberate decision by the author not to have any social change whatsoever between the 1950s and “the future.” Simsville is very much an average American town of the Fifties, and the culture shock of what needs to be done to survive on the lifeship and on the new colony is from a very Fifties perspective. (The thought of miscegenation blows a lot of survivors’ minds.)
Some lapses are clearly down to 1950s standards and practices–there’s no mention of how waste elimination is handled aboard the lifeship. But others are just weird. The choices are kept secret until the absolute last minute so no one has time to pack, but none of the survivors had been carrying around a pocket Bible, or a pack of cards or even a family photo just in case?
And there are some skeevy bits. Okay, yes, the survivors on Mars are going to need to make lots of babies to ensure the human race has a future. But the standards listed for sexual assault are “if it’s a respectable woman who is trying to make babies with her respectable man, then the assault is to be punished severely, but if she’s a stuck-up rhymes with ‘witch’ that is denying society the use of her uterus, then the offender gets off with a wrist slap.” I can see, sadly, the male-dominated readership of the time going “Yeah, rough on the women, but got to be done.”
And then there’s the ending, where the bad guy essentially has Bill and his friends over a barrel and unable to act, so someone who’s gone “crazy” has to resolve the problem for them.
The cover is cool, but more symbolic than representative–in-story, the government has taken great pains to avoid such a scene. This was a Doubleday Selection of the Month, and the back cover copy is more about how science fiction is a popular and respectable literary genre now than it is about the book itself.
This is a good read, with the caveats mentioned above, but don’t think too hard because this is a “gee-whiz” story that will fall apart if you slow down to examine individual parts. Also, be aware that there are reprints that only have the first story, but don’t say so in the description.
Comic Book Review: Essential Rampaging Hulk, Vol. 2 edited by John Denning
Quick recap: In the 1970s, Marvel Comics started doing larger magazines for newsstand distribution, most of them in black and white. One of these was The Rampaging Hulk, which originally featured adventures taking place between the Hulk’s appearances in the first year of his existence. But then it was renamed just The Hulk and retooled to more strongly resemble the then-hot television series starring Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno, as well as now being published in color.
This volume continues the run with issues #16-27, which were published 1979-81. It’s a curious mix of the television series and the comics continuity. The usual supporting cast is not seen or mentioned outside of a brief flashback to the Hulk’s origin, and a mention of Doctor Strange in the narration. Nor are there any of the usual supervillains–the closest we get is Rypel, who is more of a Bond villain type that wants to trigger World War Three so his underwater utopia can inherit the Earth. Most of the time, it’s just Robert Bruce Banner wandering from town to town and getting involved with relatively ordinary people’s problems. Interspersed with the Hulk smashing things, of course.
The opening story, “Masks”, has Dr. Banner lured from New Orleans (the night after Mardi Gras, just to be different) to the Florida Keys to participate in a wealthy eccentric’s treasure hunt. Of course, the eccentric has ulterior motives, The final story in the volume, “One for My Baby…and One More for the Hulk!” takes place in Las Vegas, as a past-his-prime crooner tries to get out from under the mob with the help of his new green bodyguard.
This is a real nostalgia blast for me, not just because I read many of these stories when they first came out, but because the writers couldn’t use their usual costumed weirdos to move plots, and thus tended towards topical stories. Three Mile Island, snail darters, the last days of the Cold War, Native American struggles, Hare Krishnas…takes me back.
Of course, not all of these stories have aged well. “A Very Personal Hell” by Jim Shooter has the notorious gay panic scene where Bruce Banner is threatened with rape by a lisping stereotype at the “Y.” (He saves himself by informing the would-be rapist that he is, in fact, Bruce Banner, y’know, the Hulk, you wouldn’t like him when he’s mad?)
And sadly, the ambitious color usage in some of the stories is completely ruined in black & white reprint–it looks muddy, and some of the captions are borderline unreadable. Artists like Gene Colan, on the other hand, make it work.
A couple of the stories deal with attempts to cure Banner of turning into the Hulk, or at least lessen the rift between them. The most striking of these is “Master Mind” in which the Hulk persona winds up in Bruce Banner’s body and goes on a rampage–which could be deadly to the much more fragile scientist.
A couple more stand-out stories: “Heaven Is a Very Small Place” with great art by Herb Trimpe and John Severin is a sad tale of the Hulk finding a peaceful place at last, only to have the illusion fade. “Dreams of Iron…Dreams of Steel” has Bruce Banner getting a job at a care facility for children with developmental disablilities (back then the word “retarded” was acceptable, but the shortened form is also hurled as an insult) and the Hulk bonds with an adult graduate of the facility that works at a steel mill.
Recommended with reservations for fans of the 1970s Hulk show and Hulk fans in general–check your library unless you’re a completist who has to own every Hulk story.
Commander Samuel Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, Duke of Ankh-Morpork and Blackboard Monitor, has been aware in a general way that his wife Sybil owns some property in the countryside. But now that their son Young Sam is six, Sybil has decided that it’s high time that the family take a holiday to visit the ancestral manor. And she’s somehow convinced Sam’s boss, Lord Vetinari, to sign off on this.
So Sam Vimes finds himself on vacation for the first time in ever, stranded far from the smell and sounds of the city he knows so well, and at a loss how to handle himself in a rural area where he’s not got jurisdiction as a cop. But as Sherlock Holmes remarked in “The Copper Beeches”, the countryside is not free from vile sin. When Vimes discovers that there’s been a murder on his land and the oppressed cry out for justice, he’s willing to bend the definition of jurisdiction to bring the villains to heel.
This is one of the last Discworld books (only two after this one) and the last of the City Watch sub-series. While Vimes is front and center for most of the story, we do check in with many of the other continuing characters for at least a sentence. (This is one of the few Discworld books to miss out Death as a character, but that does not mean that no one dies.)
Over the course of the series, Ankh-Morpork has advanced from a parody of generic sword-and-sorcery cities that happened to share some geographical features with London to more or less a fantasy version of Victorian London–and most of this progress has happened within Sam Vimes’ lifetime. Indeed, Vimes can be said to have facilitated much of this by his dedication to law enforcement that does what is right rather than what is convenient. Another running theme of the books has been that people are people, regardless of their shape, odd customs or biological weirdness. Dwarves and trolls and even vampires have become people, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with that description. And now it is the turn of the goblins.
Goblins are the lowest of the low, considered filthy creatures with no visible culture, and treated as vermin. Enslaving them, taking their sacred objects, killing them–none of these are considered crimes by the majority of people or the written law. But Commander Vimes’ previous experiences give him some unique ways of seeing the “humanity” of goblins.
And while his efforts do yield results, Sam Vimes would not be able to fully achieve the goal of bringing goblins under the protection of the law without the aid of his socially-connected wife, an author who has her own insights into goblin culture, and several goblins who step out of their stereotype to show their worth. (Although there is some question whether Stinky is really a goblin…or something more.)
Much of the “humor” this time revolves around bodily excretions, as Young Sam has discovered the scientific wonders of poo. For those of us not keen on toilet gags, this gets a bit tiresome. There’s also a fair amount of swearing, and a discussion of “the dreadful algebra” of what to do with an infant that’s been born in a time of famine. And not all sins are forgiven.
The general quality of the writing is excellent as always, but Sir Terry’s sentimental side perhaps overwhelms the sharper edge of social satire, particularly in the ending.
Recommended to Discworld fans; newbies should probably start with Guards! Guards! which is the first of the Watch sub-series.