Book Review: Daughter of the Pirate King by Tricia Levenseller
Disclaimer: I was provided with an Advance Reader’s Edition for the purpose of writing this review; no other compensation was offered or requested. There will be changes in the final product; the one I know about is that the published version will have a darker cover, less “chick lit” and more “piratey.”
We first meet Alosa disguised as a cabin boy on a ship that’s been captured by the pirate ship the Night Farer. Despite this, she is soon spotted as a woman, and the very prize Captain Draxen and his brother/first mate Riden attacked to find. Soon Alosa is secured in the Night Farer‘s brig, and a ransom demand is being made to her father, Kalligan the Pirate King.
Just as Alosa had planned. For the brothers have one third of a legendary treasure map, and the only way to get on their ship to steal it was to be invited. But though Alosa is clever and skilled, there are a few secrets she doesn’t know, and that could sink her mission before the fortnight is out.
This adventure novel is aimed at the higher end of young adult, with a protagonist who doesn’t hesitate to kill people if that’s what’s needed to accomplish her job. Alosa has had a rough, even abusive, childhood being trained up to become a worthy successor to her father. As a result, she has quite an edge, and her first-person narration often puts other people down in the process of showing herself to be good enough to please her father.
The one person on the enemy crew who can keep up with her acid tongue is Riden, who is perhaps a bit more compassionate than is safe for a pirate. It comes as no surprise to the reader when the two start falling in love despite their respective positions. The romance might be obvious, and take up more time than the action, but the banter is nice.
Alosa at times comes across as smug, especially when she reminds us that she’s holding back to hide her true awesomeness, but that does make the moments when the rug is pulled out from under her more satisfying.
The world building is minimal; it’s the Age of Sail but with a vastly simplified political situation, and a fantasy element that becomes more important in the last third of the novel. While most of the immediate plot threads are wrapped up, this is a bit too obviously a book with a sequel coming soon.
Content: In addition to the child abuse mentioned above, sexual assault is something Alosa thinks about a lot, due to her circumstances. There’s some heavy petting scenes, but the characters never go all the way. Also torture just off-stage.
Primarily for pirate story fans who do not mind a heavy romance subplot.
Manga Review: Futaba-kun Change! Vol. 1 by Hiroshi Aro
Futaba Shimeru is a junior high school student whose voice has recently changed, and has started noticing girls, especially his pretty classmate Misaki. One day, a wrestling club teammate gives Futaba a girlie magazine, and the young fellow retreats to the boys’ room to read it. The revelation of what girls look like under their clothes is exciting, and Futaba realizes this would apply to Misaki as well, and he becomes so excited he passes out.
When Futaba wakes up, he is startled to discover that he himself is now possessed of female anatomy, and partially undresses to check that yes, it’s for real. It’s at this point Futaba’s wrestling teammates burst in looking for him and find a half-naked girl instead. Some scary moments and the discovery that the transformation is not permanent later, Futaba arrives home and discovers that (unbeknownst to him) his entire family switches sex on a regular basis!
This 1990s shounen manga series was a fairly blatant “follow the leader” of Rumiko Takahashi’s Ranma 1/2, but soon goes off in its own direction. Most notably, while Ranma’s female form was treated more or less as a flesh disguise for the very male Ranma, Futaba’s two forms are both natural to his/her biology and over the course of time he/she is able to switch mental gears as quickly as the physical changes occur. There’s also more attention to what those physical changes involve, which leads to some body function humor over the course of the story.
The series ran eight volumes with an abrupt genre change in the last volume; the author had to wrap it up because of falling sales. It was originally brought to the U.S. by Studio Ironcat but has long been out of print. This new version is only available on Kindle. Nipples have been erased, and there are a couple of instances where the junior high school is referred to as “university.”
Most of the characters have over the top personalities for the sake of humor; for example, Misaki is very superstitious, while her friend Negiri is a money-grubber. This is less pleasant in the case of Futaba’s older sister Futana, who is very lecherous (even hitting on Futaba!) and Mr. Sabuyama, a teacher who lusts after teenage boys. The humor also relies heavily on selective obliviousness; not only has Futaba somehow failed to notice his entire family changing sex, but the very distinctive school principal runs around in a superhero costume every so often and his own daughter fails to make the connection.
There’s a lot of male-oriented fanservice, with the occasional pretty boy tossed in. There’s also quite a bit of slapstick violence–especially in the battle tournament in later volumes. The sexual harassment humor has not aged well.
Recommended (with reservations) for gender-bender comedy fans, and those who like Nineties manga.
Book Review: A Shadow Bright and Burning by Jessica Cluess
Eleven years ago, Great Britain was a powerful nation with a thriving magical community. Then the Ancients were summoned, seven supernatural beings who are hostile to human life as we know it. Since then, the British have been at war with these occupying horrors, and quite frankly losing. At the start of the war, orphan girl Henrietta Howel was dumped by her aunt at a dismal school where she is now a teacher, having no other place to go.
Of late, there have been a series of mysterious fires at Brimthorn School, and a sorcerer has been called in to investigate. The culprit is Henrietta herself, who has had trouble controlling her ability to set herself aflame. The sorcerer Agrippa realizes that Henrietta is a rare female sorcerer, and thus the Chosen One of a prophecy leading to the defeat of the Ancients. So it’s off to London for Henrietta to be trained!
However, it quickly comes to Henrietta’s attention that she probably isn’t the Chosen One, and the penalty for impersonating the Chosen One is dire indeed! Can she navigate the treacherous currents of magical training and romantic interest before the Ancients and their Familiars strike against the heart of the city?
The plot moves along at a nice clip, and there are some cool battle scenes. In general, this book is competently written.
That said, many of the characters seem to come from Central Casting: the heroine with a tragic backstory who believes she’ll never find love, the “lower class” childhood friend with a dark secret, the seemingly cold man who in fact feels very deeply, etc.
Sexism is the real “big bad” in this story; the branch of magic that is female-dominated is the one primarily blamed for the Ancients and is now banned completely; several of the characters object entirely to the concept of female sorcerers, and young Queen Victoria is being manipulated by male advisers who don’t trust her to run the country.
On the diversity front, which has become more relevant in modern young adult fiction: one major character is described as having black skin, but this never comes up again and there is reason to believe that isn’t his actual appearance. As opposed to Henrietta’s “dark” coloration from her Welsh ancestry, which is frequently mentioned. Also, it’s hinted that two of the male characters are interested in each other, but it could also be just a very close friendship.
There is some child abuse in the early chapters. Brimthorn is not a good school. The Ancients tend to cause gruesome deaths or deformity, which may affect some more sensitive readers–I’d say senior high on up should be fine.
This is the first in a series, and a few plot hooks are left hanging; for example, it’s strongly hinted that the story of why the Ancients were summoned is still not fully revealed, despite some major pieces being revealed in this volume. And just possibly Henrietta may not be a true orphan….
Recommended primarily to readers of YA paranormal romance.
Disclaimer: I received this volume from Blogging for Books for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was requested or offered.
Book Review: Behind a Mask: The Unknown Thrillers of Louisa May Alcott edited by Madaleine Stern
Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888) is best remembered for her Little Women series of books for girls, but had quite a few other works to her name. And some that were written under a pen name. The latter included several short works published in sensational periodicals of the time, considered too spicy to be attached to her reputation as a schoolteacher. The Alcott family suffered from poverty, and sales of “blood and thunder” stories were a nice way to earn emergency cash.
According to Ms. Stern, many of these works were lost for years because of the psuedonym and the ephemeral nature of the periodicals they appeared in. She first became aware of them in the 1940s, but due to wartime conditions was unable to pursue the matter to a conclusion, and it was only in the 1970s that enough clues could be found to allow this collection of four representative stories.
“Behind a Mask ~or~ A Woman’s Power” leads off as the well-off Coventry family engages nineteen year old Scotswoman Jean Muir as a governess. It seems that for various reasons, the sixteen year old youngest daughter Bella has had her education neglected, and she needs her basics down before her social debut. Jean turns out to be a multi-talented young woman and quickly wins the hearts of most of the family. However, when she retires to her new bedroom, Jean removes her makeup, wig and false teeth to reveal that she’s actually thirty–and a very skilled actor.
Jean Muir uses her wiles to entice the family’s two brothers, turning them against each other. But in fact her ambitions are even higher. And in the end, despite some setbacks, Jean succeeds in her primary goal! This makes the story one of the relatively rare “bad guy wins” pieces of fiction. On the other hand, it’s hard to be unsympathetic to Jean; she’s been dealt a bad hand by life, and in a pre-feminist society, her options are limited. And to be honest, the ultimate outcome only leaves the Coventry family sadder but wiser.
One bit that may confuse younger readers–the elder brother buys the younger brother a “commission.” At the time, the British Army allowed rich people to simply buy a lieutenant’s rank. This worked out about as well as you’d think.
“Pauline’s Passion and Punishment” brings us to Cuba. Pauline is a woman scorned; the handsome but financially embarrassed Gilbert wooed her, then went on what he described as a short trip–to marry another woman! She comes up with a scheme to get revenge, and the handsome and wealthy Manuel is willing to marry her to help her get it. They catch up with Gilbert and his new bride Barbara at a resort hotel. Gilbert married “Babie” for money, only to find out it was tied up in a trust. Pauline happens to be an old schoolmate of Babie’s, so she and Manuel have a social “in” to hang out with Gilbert and his wife.
Quite honestly, Pauline dodged a bullet when Gilbert dumped her; he’s a gambling addict, heavy drinker and bad-tempered (warning for domestic abuse.) Pauline could have just left it at showing how much better a couple she and Manuel were, living well as the best revenge. But she just can’t resist twisting the knife, and that leads to tragedy.
There’s a bit of ethnic stereotyping of the “Latins are hot-blooded” type. This story is illustrated with woodcuts from the original publication.
“The Mysterious Key ~and~ What It Opened” brings us back to Britain. Lord Trevlyn and his wife are about to have their first child when a messenger arrives. We do not find out immediately what message was brought, but at the end of the night, Lord Trevlyn is dead of a heart attack, Lady Trevlyn is prostate with shock (and her health never entirely recovers) and Lillian is born.
The story skips ahead to Lillian’s early adolescence, when a mysterious but very polite boy named Paul turns up and becomes a servant for the Trevlyn family. He and Lillian get on quite well, but it’s clear that he has secrets, and then vanishes one night.
Several years later, Paul turns up again with the name Paolo Talbot. He has made his fortune in Italy, and has returned to Britain with his cousin Helene. Helene is blind (at one point mistaken for mentally handicapped by an uneducated person, who uses what was at the time the polite term, but “idiot” is no longer acceptable.) Lillian thinks Paul is honor-bound to marry Helene, but the truth is far more convoluted.
This story is the weakest of the set, and could have used some punching up.
“The Abbot’s Ghost ~or~ Maurice Treherne’s Temptation” is a Christmas story. The noble Treherne family has several guests staying over Christmastide. Love triangles abound as a result. Maurice has been confined to a wheelchair due to an accident, and it is deemed unlikely that he will ever walk again. He was also disinherited by his late uncle for initially unspecified reasons, and is dependent on the charity of his cousin Jasper, who inherited the title and money.
Christmas is a time for ghost stories, and the Treherne house happens to have a resident spook, an abbot who was turned out of his home by a distant ancestor of the Trehernes. It is said that an appearance by the abbot’s ghost foretells the death of a male member of the family. Sure enough, the ghost appears (or is it a hoax?) Who will die, and who will get married?
There’s an ethnic slur hurled by one of the characters, who is portrayed as unsympathetic at the time.
Three out of four stories involve possible cousin marriage; I wonder if that was really such a big thing back in the 1860s in Britain, or if Ms. Alcott just had a thing for that storytelling gimmick.
The writing is clear and direct, with a few obscure words and outdated pop culture references. While apparently pretty daring for their time, there’s little in here that will shock modern readers.
Recommended for more mature Alcott fans, and those who enjoy romantic thrillers.
Comic Book Review: Blue Monday, Vol. 2: Absolute Beginners by Chynna Clugston Flores
Disclaimer: I received this volume through a Goodreads giveaway for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was offered or requested.
Bleu L. Finnegan isn’t precisely your normal high school girl growing up in 1990s Northern California. For one thing, there’s the blue hair, which she’s had since at least elementary school (though it’s not clear if it’s natural.) She’s also way more into then-contemporary musicians than the average person, and most of the people she hangs out with are equally excited about such things.
Bleu is also very typical of teenage girls, simultaneously interested in and disgusted by teenage boys, and with a schoolgirl crush on handsome Jefferson High teacher Mr. Bishop. Oh, and for some reason a pooka named Seamus has taken an interest in her. Maybe not so typical after all.
This was Chynna Clugston Flores’ first series, created when she was barely older than the characters she was writing. It had a manga-esque art style back when that was uncommon and innovative. It also had musical cues for which songs should be playing at any point in the story–I think that will be most evocative for Nineties kids, as some of the references have faded in the past twenty years.
In many ways, this is like a naughtier version of the classic Archie Comics formula; romantic hijinks, comedy and a touch of the supernatural. The kids are rather more open about the sexual nature of their attractions, use more foul language than I am comfortable with (and yet sometimes use comic-book symbol swearing instead), and consume alcohol. On the other hand, the teenagers are not actually sexually active (as of this volume), and the nudity tends to be peek-a-boo.
In this volume, a fancy-dress party is ruined by too much booze, which leads to a couple of the boys taking a video of Bleu bathing. The fallout of this leads to continued embarrassment for our protagonist, as the contents of the video are vastly exaggerated by gossip. One of the boys, Alan Jackson, finally admits he’s interested in Bleu and tries to ask her out on a date, despite the girls thrashing him in soccer.
That date turns into a disaster, largely because their friends are pulling a series of pranks on the couple. Teenagers are mean!
It seems that whatever town Jefferson High is in, it has a high Irish-American population, though only Clover Connelly’s family appears to be directly from the Emerald Isle. And then there’s “Monkeyboy” whose hairstyle hides his eyes at all times.
The art has been recolored by Jordie Bellaire, who did a very good job except for one obvious goof–or perhaps that happened in post-production.
This will, I think, most appeal to Nineties kids who enjoyed the series when it first appeared, but should be suitable for older teenagers on up who enjoy romantic comedy.
Manga Review: Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon 3 by Naoko Takeuchi
Usagi Tsukino doesn’t look much like hero material at first glance. She’s clumsy, not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and a bit of a crybaby. But Usagi has a secret heritage, and when talking cat Luna seeks her out, Usagi becomes the bishoujo senshi (“pretty guardian”) Sailor Moon! Now gifted with magical powers, Sailor Moon must seek out the other guardians and defeat the monsters of the Dark Kingdom to save the world.
This 1991 manga series was groundbreaking in many ways. The mahou shoujo (“magical girl”) subgenre of fantasy manga and anime had been around since the 1960s, inspired by the American TV show Bewitched, but was primarily about cute witches, fairy princesses and ordinary girls who were gifted power by witches or fairies who used their magic to help people with their day to day problems and maybe once in a while fight a monster or two. Takeuchi blended this with the traditionally boy-oriented sentai (“warrior squad”) subgenre to create magical girl warriors whose primary thing was using magical powers to defeat evil.
It was also novel for being a shoujo (girls’) manga with an immediate animated adaptation as Takeuchi developed the series in coordination with Toei. The manga ran monthly while the anime was weekly, so the animated version has lots of “filler” episodes that don’t advance the plot but do expand on the characterization of minor roles. Indeed, it’s better to think of the manga and anime as two separate continuities.
Both manga and anime were huge hits, though the versions first brought to America were heavily adulterated. American children’s television wasn’t ready for some of the darker themes of some of the episodes, and the romantic relationship of Sailors Neptune and Uranus blew moral guardians’ minds. More recently, new, more faithful translations have come out, and there’s a new anime adaptation, Sailor Moon Crystal that sticks closer to the manga continuity.
The volume to hand, #3, contains the end of the Dark Kingdom storyline. Wow, that was quick. Once forced into a direct confrontation, Queen Beryl isn’t really much more formidable than her minions; only the fact that she has a brainwashed Prince Endymion (Tuxedo Mask) on her side makes the fight difficult. Queen Metallia, the true power behind the throne, on the other hand, is a world-ending menace and it will take everything our heroes have plus Usagi awakening to her full heritage to defeat it.
Takeuchi had originally planned for her heroines to die defeating Metallia and ending the series there, but the anime had great ratings, and both Toei and her manga’s editor felt that this would be too much of a downer. After some floundering, the editor suggested the new character “Chibi-Usa” and her startling secret, and Takeuchi was able to come up with a plotline from there.
So it is that just as Usagi and Mamoru are getting romantic, a little girl who claims her name is also Usagi drops out of the sky to interrupt. “Chibi-Usa” looks a lot like a younger version of our Usagi, and is on a mission to reclaim the Silver Crystal (despite the fact that she seems to be wearing a Silver Crysal herself.) She infiltrates Usagi’s family, much to the older girl’s irritation.
At the same time, a new enemy appears, the Black Moon. Led by Prince Demande and advised by the mysterious Wiseman, they seek not only the Silver Crystal but a being called the “Rabbit.” Their initial ploy is to send out the Spectre Sisters to capture the Sailor Senshi one by one. The Spectre Sisters are very much evil counterparts of the Senshi, each having an elemental affinity and interests matching one of the heroes. The first two, Koan and Berthier, are destroyed in battle, but not before they remove Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury from the board.
In a subplot, a new minor character is introduced, an underclassman of Mamoru’s whose job is shilling Mamoru and his fine qualities. This is actually kind of helpful, as Tuxedo Mask had spent most of the Dark Kingdom arc either being mysterious or unavailable. This allows us more insight into who this Mamoru person is when he’s not around Usagi.
Rei and Ami get some development in their focus chapters, but seemingly mostly so that the Spectre Sisters can have similar interests.
Some of this comes off as cliche now, but that’s because Sailor Moon was such a strong influence on magical girl stories that came afterward. Here’s where many of the tropes started!
The art is very good of its kind, and again seems less distinctive now because of imitators.
Recommended for magical girl fans, teenage girls and romantic fantasy fans.
Book Review: The Four False Weapons by John Dickson Carr
Richard Curtis, junior partner at the law firm of Curtis, Hunt, D’Arcy & Curtis, is beginning to regret his career choice. The office-bound life of a solicitor is dreadfully dull for a young man that longs for adventure and secret missions! Just as he is about to succumb to utter boredom, Mr. Hunt, the acting senior partner, calls Richard in for a conference. It seems that Ralph Douglas, a wealthy young client of the firm, has noticed odd things going on at a villa near Paris that he rents but does not live at. It’s probably nothing important, but can Richard dash across the Channel to check in with Mr. Douglas?
As it happens, Ralph is in a bit of a delicate situation between his fiancee Magda Toller, her overprotective mother, and his ex-lover Rose Clonec. The villa in question was where he put up La Clonec while they were together; it’s supposed to be shut up tight, but someone’s been there recently and turned on the electricity and laid in a supply of champagne. Ralph can’t contact Rose directly to ask if she’s responsible without arousing the suspicions of Mama Toller.
When the men drive out to the villa, they find a maid who claims that Ralph was there last night (he claims he wasn’t.) Worse, they find the corpse of Ms. Clonec in an upstairs bedroom. There are multiple potential murder weapons in the room, but are any of them what actually caused her death? If Ralph’s telling the truth, then it’s a pretty sweet frame job, but who would do this, and why? Good thing famous police detective Bencolin has been called out of retirement for this one last case!
John Dickson Carr (1906-1977) was considered a master of the “locked room” mystery, where a crime seems impossible, but this one (the fifth and last Bencolin book) isn’t so much a locked room, as one with too many and contradictory clues that Bencolin must sift through. At one point early on, he declares that he knows who done it, but not why or how–a couple of chapters later, new evidence turns it upside down, and now he claims to know why and how, but no longer who!
While the puzzle pieces are being assembled, Richard tries to act in the best interests of his client while falling in love with Magda. This romance subplot is possibly the least necessary element of the book, and comes across rushed and forced. Much more fun are the antics of newspaper reporter and amateur sleuth Jean-Baptiste Robinson, who keeps guessing almost right. (He also sports a Hitler mustache, which in 1937 was just eccentric, but a couple of years later would have gotten him lynched.)
The climax is a high-stakes card game where Richard must play Basset, a lost game of kings, to reveal the final clue Bencolin needs to prove who murdered Rose Clonec. This ramps up the suspense considerably as Richard doesn’t know whether he needs to win or lose to achieve the detective’s goal.
This isn’t Carr’s best work, but is a fun, light read; worth looking up at your local library if you enjoy older mysteries.
Manga Review: Orange the Complete Collection 1 by Ichigo Takano
If you could send a letter to yourself ten years in the past, what would you say? “Life will get better after high school”? “Don’t drink and drive”? “Here are the winning lottery numbers for [date]”? On the first day of her junior year of high school, Naho Takamiya receives a letter that purports to be from herself ten years from “now.” It correctly predicts a series of events, including that a new boy from Tokyo, Kakeru, will be joining her group of friends. Then it gets to the reason the letter was sent.
One of Naho’s friends won’t survive the year.
This is a shoujo (girls’) romance manga with a touch of melancholy. Naho is a motherly girl who cares deeply about her friends, but she’s also quite timid and a bit of a doormat. Even though she knows her future self is giving good advice, Naho hesitates to stand up for herself or tell people how she really feels, and several opportunities to influence events slip through her fingers.
There is also a bit of a love triangle involved. Kakeru Naruse clearly has feelings for Naho that deepen over time, but he’s hurting inside and distances himself from others–he is considering suicide. Hiroto Suwa also has feelings for Naho, but considers his friendship with Kakeru important enough to set those aside to help the couple get together.
The other characters are less developed in this first volume (which contains volumes 1-3 of the Japanese version.) Azusa Murasaka is a bit loud and flashy; Takako Chino is more elegant but has a short temper; and Saku Hagita looks gloomy and serious, but has a gift for saying funny things.
The story is set in Matsumoto, a small city in the mountainous area of Nagano Prefecture. Every so often there’s some nice art of the local scenery, but most panels skip backgrounds. Otherwise, the art is decent and conveys the action and emotions well. The location also plays into the motivation of “mean girl” Ueda, who tries to start a romance with Kakeru based on the fact that they’re both from big city Tokyo, not like the provincial locals.
After a while, we do get glimpses of future Naho and her surviving friends, as the events that lead to the letter being sent back slowly unfold. There’s some discussion of how time travel might work–will changing the past overwrite the previous events entirely, or does it simply create a new timeline starting from the deviation point? Naho’s letter becomes less useful as she does start making decisions that vary from the original; by the end of this volume, Naho has decided not to rely on it anymore. This decision is helped along by plot twists at the end of Japanese volumes 2 & 3, which genre-savvy readers will see coming.
The story does deal with suicide and its effects on the survivors, the regret and guilt it causes. It’s made clear that there’s no magic bullet for suicide prevention. The support and attention of friends does help, but they can’t always be there, and it is clear that they might still fail. (And of course, Naho can’t just tell responsible adults what she knows without revealing her source.)
An anime adaptation is running as of this writing, and you can probably find it on a streaming service.
Recommended for teens who enjoy a touch of science fiction in with their melancholy romance, and are able to handle the theme of suicide.
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/
Magazine Review: Gamma 3 edited by Charles E. Fritch
Gamma was a short-lived science fiction magazine (five issues in 1963-64), known for high-quality cover art and snagging stories from authors connected with the film industry. (Indeed, I picked up this issue because of the sweet Morris Scott Dollens art.) It was digest-sized and relatively thin. Let’s look at the contents!
“The Girl of Paradise Planet” by Robert Turner concerns retired millionaire George Prentiss. He and his third wife Evvie have come to the title planet on a long vacation (her idea.) Bored, Robert has taken up underwater swimming with future SCUBA gear. This world is not supposed to have any native intelligent life, but then where did that water-breathing naked girl come from? Is George having hallucinations from the water pressure, or is he just going insane?
Over the course of the story, we learn that George is a self-made man who spent his youth starting a business, growing that business and getting rich, so he didn’t look for romance until middle age, and three times went for trophy wives, none of whom have worked out. Which is okay…except that the possibly imaginary Irlana comes across as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl whose function is to rekindle his love of life (and is younger and prettier than Evvie.)
Mr. Turner was an experienced author, but this was his first time writing science fiction, and I can tell. He’s certainly no climatologist, and the ending twist relies on most of the characters forgetting a perfectly logical explanation for events that would be common knowledge to them, even if the reader wouldn’t know it.
“The Feather Bed” by Shelley Lowenkopf presents a bizarre future in which the economy runs on make-work. For example, three years after a building is built, all the piping is torn out and replaced just to give the plumbing crews something to do. This extends to writing as well. Every 37 years, all extant editions of Shakespeare are destroyed, and replaced with “newly written” versions by living authors. Except that it’s just retyping the whole thing verbatim. And the same goes for all other works of fiction by dead writers.
Lew has had it with the system–he doesn’t want to “rewrite” King Lear again, and on the union points system, it will be years before he’s allowed to write more of the original fiction that made him a successful author in the first place. Unfortunately, he’s just one man against the system, and winds up causing even the FBI to intervene. If Lew sticks to his principles, he could lose everything, including the writing he really wants to do.
“Angel Levine” by Bernard Malamud stars Jewish tailor Manischevitz, who is going through hard times. His shop burned down, and the insurance money was eaten by customer lawsuits. His son died in the war, and his daughter ran off with a man and never communicates. He’s got chronic pain, and his wife Rosie is dying. Manischevitz asks God for assistance, but when an “angel” named Levine shows up, there are reasons the tailor is unconvinced. It’s ultimately a story about belief in the face of your assumptions about people. There is racism and anti-Semitism in the story. (This one was reprinted from one of the author’s collections.)
“The (In)visible Man” by Edward W. Ludwig is a fantasy about James Smith, who has become socially invisible. He’s finally decided to exploit that fact, but one person has finally become able to see him, and that is both Mr. Smith’s weakness and best hope. It’s a fairly sweet story, helped along by James Smith, even when he turns criminal, sticking to a “least harm” principle. There is an attempted suicide in the story.
“Inside Story” by Miriam Allen deFord takes place in a far future when the Galactic Federation sends scouts to find new worlds that one of their myriad species can live on and isn’t already inhabited by intelligent life. These planets are exceedingly rare. It looks, however, like this one might be ideal. Presuming the scout party doesn’t find any surprises like rapid inexplicable temperature variations….
In this future, scout ships have mixed-sex crews, but this is because every member of that crew is a different non-compatible species. The twist ending is suitably bizarre.
“The Birth” by George Clayton Johnson is a retelling of a classic story from a different perspective. See how long it takes you to figure out which one!
“Buttons” by Raymond E. Banks concerns John Burke, a starship officer who is forced by disaster to upload his mind to a computer memory storage system. Supposedly, he will have his mind reinserted into his human body once that’s fixed. But that procedure has a high failure rate, and Burke is rapidly discovering the advantages of being a disembodied intelligence. There’s some relatively early thought about the benefits versus possible hazards of transhumanism.
“Society for the Prevention” by Ron Goulart is a humorous piece about the travails of a interplanetary surplus store manager. He’s just gotten a large shipment of extremely ugly wicker urns, the natives of the planet have organized a violent “Shop Local” campaign, and the newly arrived Young Girls Space Police and Welfare Committee officer suspects him of being in cahoots with the inventor of a death ray. Everything more or less works out in the end, but now the store manager has to try to explain to his boss why the urns didn’t get sold. The female Space Police officer is treated as a joke–admittedly so is everyone else, but it may not sit well with some readers, as part of the joke is that women are completely unsuited for the work.
The final story is “The Snail Watcher” by Patricia Highsmith. This creepy tale is about a man who gets a little too fascinated with the reproductive habits of snails, not noticing that these particular snails are reproducing much more rapidly than is anywhere near normal.
Interior art is by Luan Metheringham, who sadly seems to have completely dropped out of sight with only her Gamma appearances known.
There is also an interview with “Ivan Kirov” about the state of Soviet science fiction in the early 1960s. He declined to have his real name published for security reasons. Per the interview, SF in the USSR was beginning to blossom after being suppressed during the Stalinist years. Noted was a tendency for “nuts and bolts” stories of adventure, with little of the social or psychological exploration that had become common in Western nations’ science fiction. (At the time, the government censors were big on Soviet Communism going worldwide being the only possible future, and writers were expected to get on board with that.)
The Banks story is the one that I liked best, though the Highsmith story was also effective. Worth seeking out if you’re a fan of either author or the cover artist.