Ashley, Mike.
The John Spencer Fantasy Publications
. Wallsend, Tyne & Wear, England: Cosmos Literary Agency, 1979.
This is the first in a very useful series of bibliographies published by Philip Harbottle, the man who unraveled the bibliographical tangle that was John Russell Fearn. The Spencer publications have proven particularly difficult problems for SF researchers: they are difficult to locate for examination purposes, and difficult to elucidate, since most were penned under house pseudonyms. Ashley has done an admirable job in identifying the vast majority of the real authors behind these books, and in providing a complete checklist of Spencer’s SF and fantasy publications, both magazine and book. He also includes a short history of the firm, and two sample stories from among the hundreds that they published. An auspicious beginning.
Bulmer, Kenneth, writing as Alan Burt Akers.
Golden Scorpio
. New York: DAW Books, 1978.
While no one will confuse the Dray Prescot series with great literature, Akers’s world is more sophisticated than most in this genre, and significantly better constructed. This pseudonymous author obviously is well-versed in military history, particularly naval history, and uses this knowledge to good advantage. The series as a whole has clearly been plotted well in advance, leaving just enough loose ends from book to book, and cycle to cycle, to keep the faithful reader intrigued. A cut above most heroic fantasy, and pleasant, if light, reading.
Caprio, Betsy.
Star Trek: Good News in Modern Images
. Mission, KS: Sheed, Andrews & McMeel, 1978.
Blair, Karin.
Meaning in Star Trek
. New York: Warner Books, 1979.
Caprio’s book is an interesting, if somewhat perplexing, approach to the phenomenon of
Star Trek
. The material seems aimed at the young or pre-teen level, with chapters on various topics followed by “Energizer” or workbook sections intended to be completed by the reader. The emphasis on religious themes makes it unsuitable for classroom use, except in church schools, where it is unlikely to find a home. The only other logical market is the “Trekker” or completist collector, who may be intrigued with Caprio’s obsession with trivia. The one truly valuable section is a complete listing of the seventy-nine original
Star Trek
episodes, cross-referenced to the James Blish paperback adaptions; the book is also indexed. Overall, though, Caprio’s study has little value for the average reader. While it is legitimate to point out common themes between secular and religious literature, the problem with linking them so specifically is that other, equally significant themes may be lost or discarded in the process.
Blair’s study, on the other hand, is more interesting. This reprint of the 1977 Anima Books edition is an intelligent and believable tapestry of mythological meaning against the space/time continuum through which the starship
Enterprise
moves from the known to the unknown. Proceeding from the premise that
Star Trek
enjoyed a popularity which far transcended its position as a “pop” culture fad, the author provides insights into the probable causes for the show’s continued success. Drawing upon a wide range of mythological lore and philosophical thought, especially Jungian psychology, Blair makes her connections with ease and credibility.
Blair sees the starship and its crew as archetypes of human sensibility; in particular, she finds significance in the shape of the ship itself, a circular body (representing the feminine side of consciousness) propelled by cigar-shaped (masculine) power modules. The circle, as symbol of a total and complete unity, also represents the Bridge, where most of the decisions are made. Kirk, at the center of the Bridge, represents the synthesis of both masculine and feminine (conscious and unconscious) qualities. The polarities on either side of the captain are embodied in the characters of Spock and McCoy, whose personalities also represent the emotional (McCoy) and the logical (Spock) aspects of human nature.
Blair draws upon specific incidents to illustrate the tensions inherent in these polarities: young/old, female/male, good/evil. Although it is problematical whether the show’s creator, Gene Roddenberry, or subsequent writers had such things in mind, it seems logical that the subsequent popularity of the program could reflect deep, subconscious urges in all of us which strike chords of sympathy. Blair falls prey to her own description of the feminine being possessed by the animus when, in her conclusion, she idealizes Spock. She finds in him the archetype, Number, which combines the qualitative and the quantitative, feeling and intellect; he becomes the perfect mediator for woman, whose role has historically been subjugated to that of man. Although Blair feels that
Star Trek
itself is guilty of such subjugation (and she makes a good case for it), she believes that Spock can point a way to a “new” relationship between men and women, a balanced union of androgynies who have successfully defeated the “fear of flying.”
—with Mary A. Burgess
Coffman, C. C.
Spacedust One
. New York: Vantage Press, 1979.
Cirilius, Marcus.
Prehistoric Epic!
New York: Vantage Press, 1978.
Jenkins, Harry.
An Affair of Survival: A Novel
. New York: Vantage Press, 1979.
Campbell, Clive S.
The Day the Sun Came Through
. New York: Vantage Press, 1979.
Annan, Ralph.
The Spider-Men: A Science-Fantasy Adventure
. New York: Vantage Press, 1979.
Vantage Press is the largest of the subsidy or “vanity” publishers, houses which require their authors to pay the cost of printing their own books. Others of the same ilk include Exposition Press, Carlton Press, Dorrance & Co., and Ashley Books. Subsidy publishers differ from trade publishers in many respects: they generally lack trade distribution to bookstores, and advertise fitfully, if at all, making it very difficult for the outsider to determine exactly what they have published; this situation is compounded by the large number of books each imprint produces (Vantage Press’s annual output numbers in the hundreds of volumes). They are also unusual in that they advertise widely to
get
new books and authors, soliciting manuscripts in newspaper and magazines nationally. Vantage maintains offices in four cities: New York, Washington, Atlanta, and Hollywood. Most publishers are so inundated by unsolicited manuscripts that they place restrictions on who may submit and what may be submitted; many refuse to read unsolicited books altogether. Subsidy publishers will usually stock a particular book for two years or less, and then either pulp the remainder or offer the stock to the author at a reduced price.
Most vanity press authors know very little about publishing; indeed, many have never had any of their work published professionally. They believe that the mere act of printing a book may gain them fame, fortune, or at least notoriety; in truth, however, few of these books and fewer of these authors have ever gathered much notice. There have been a handful of subsidy press bestsellers, to be sure, and another handful of books published by these houses have sold moderately well; most, however, die the death of anonymity, being sold or given away to the authors’ friends. Of the hundred or so vanity press science fiction and fantasy novels published, none have ever been sold for reprint to the mass market paperback publishers.
The five books under consideration here are typical of most subsidy publications. Cover art ranges from adequate to atrocious. Binding and typesetting are average to good in quality, with the usual number of typos present, and only one major error noted (the transposition of two pages of text in
Spacedust One
). The books are all bound in cloth, thereby restricting the potential market almost exclusively to libraries, although most libraries will not buy vanity press books as a matter of course. Prices are average for today’s market, although perhaps excessive for the smaller books.
The best of the lot is
Spacedust
, a collection of four short stories by a Marine Corps major. Coffman is evidently familiar with weapons, tactics, and hand-to-hand combat, and uses his knowledge to good stead. He is less proficient with dialogue and characterization. Two of the stories, “Gopa” and “Magician,” are close to professional pulp level; the remaining pair, “The Welcome” and “Winner Take All,” are amateurish gimmick stories with trick endings that the average reader will spy long in advance. The drawings by Kay Niman Fish are no more than adequate.
Prehistoric Epic!
by “Marcus Cirilius” is a mixture of the author’s personal philosophy, lengthy exposition, and a thin veneer of story. Characterization is nonexistent. I found it utterly unreadable.
An Affair of Survival
is a political novel of the year 2025 by a former Associated Press editor. This reactionary little diatribe has America smashing each of its enemies into the ground in turn, as it defends its national interests with a cold-bloodedness that Napoleon would certainly have admired. By conquering the Arab oil states, the U.S. naturally secures a rapprochement with the Soviet Union, and peace seems secure for the first time in decades. I didn’t believe a word of it.
The Day the Sun Came Through
is a short expository tale telling how men became gods through the intervention of outside alien entities. There are no characters as such, and the story is amateurish at best.
The Spider-Men
is straight pulp adventure: a cripple is bit on the wrist by an unusual arachnid, and finds himself shrinking down to the level of the insects—and once again whole in body, if diminutive in size. There he finds himself fighting the mutated spider-men, and must try to rescue the beautiful Aronell. This could have appeared in any of the 1930s pulp magazines.
Of the five books reviewed, none really reach professional standards, although three are at least readable. For completists only.
Diamond, Graham.
Dungeons of Kuba: Adventures of the Empire Princess #2
. New York: Playboy Press, 1979.
Stacy, the Empire Princess, and her lover, Fleet Commander Elias, must forego the pleasures of hearth and home when threatened by the expansionist tyrant Sigried, the Rani of Kuba. To complicate the plot further, Stacy embarks on a journey to Kuba disguised as a Satrian noblewoman, Lady Kesa. She is accompanied by her retainers, Melinda and Alryc, and her old-time companion and mentor, the wolf Cicero. After a myriad of predictable difficulties and tiresome confrontations, Siggy is contained in an emotional denouement. This silly sequel to
The Haven
and
Lady of the Haven
is, if anything, even less interesting than its predecessors. The dialogue is trite and stilted, the characters wooden and unbelievable. The whole wretched mess reads like a soap opera penned by Robert E. Howard for Raquel Welch. One can only hope that Stacy and Elias have finally come to the end of the road, and will venture forth no more.
—with Mary A. Burgess
Diamond, Graham.
Lady of the Haven: Adventures of the Empire Princess
. New York: Playboy Press, 1978.
Nigel, father of the Lady Anastasia, has carved out the beginnings of a civilization with the help of the forest dwellers, packs of wolves which were once the enemies of man and have now become his allies. At the beginning of this sequel to
The Haven
(1978), Anastasia is preparing to return home after spending some time as apprentice to the wolves under the guardianship of Nigel’s close friend, Hector. She is troubled by the thought of returning to civilization; at the same time, she is intrigued by a story told by an old White Wolf, who faintly remembers crossing the sea to this land from another.
Returning home, she confronts her father, a member of the ruling Council, with a plan for heading a colonizing expedition to this unknown land. Cicero, a renegade wolf, will travel with her to communicate with the White Wolves, should the unknown realm prove hostile.
Diamond’s book is an interesting twist on an old theme, men-raised-with-animals. But his novel is marred, not only by jarring anachronisms (Anastasia, for example, becomes “Stacy”), but more seriously by a compromise with the originality of the premise, and through shallow, stereotyped characters. It is difficult to feel much sympathy with Anastasia and her problems: we know that everything will turn out well in the end. Curiously, the wolves are much more interesting types than their human masters. But that’s often the case, isn’t it?
—with Mary A. Burgess
Gilman, Charlotte Perkins.
Herland
. New York: Pantheon Books, 1979.
This is an important addition to utopian and feminist literature collections. Gilman is best known for her novella,
The Yellow Wallpaper
(1892), which documents her bitter and frustrating experiences with psychoanalysis following post-partum depression. However, as Ann Lane states in her perceptive introduction: “...
The Yellow Wallpaper
represents a woman in torment;
Herland
a woman at play.”
Herland
is the second part of a trilogy comprising
Moving the Mountain
(1911),
Herland
(1915), and
Ourland
(1916), which deals with the possibility of a future utopian society ruled by women. This section is the most successful of the three, and comparable in theme to Edward Bellamy’s
Looking Backward, 2000-1887
, although its somewhat simplistic solutions are reminiscent to William Morris’s novel,
News from Nowhere
(the classic reply to Bellamy’s regimented society of the future).
Three young men stumble into a “lost” kingdom of women. At first they are bemused—the place is civilized, therefore men
must
be in control somewhere! The trio soon learn that the land has remained sealed off from the outside world for about 2000 years. All men having been killed in battle, the race has been perpetuated through parthenogenesis, resulting only in girl offspring. The newcomers are captured, educated in the language and mores of the land, and eventually made grooms for three chosen girls. The results are disastrous: two of the men manage to adapt, but the third resorts to violent rape of his bride, who does not comprehend his “animal” desires. Violence is not condoned by the ladies, and the man is exiled: one couple returns with him to “civilization,” and one stays behind.