Old Children's Book: Mrs. Pickerell Goes to the Arctic. by Ellen MacGregor

Old Children's Book: Mrs. Pickerell Goes to the Arctic, by Ellen MacGregor

a review by Rich Horton

(Cover by Paul Galdone)

I thought it time to return to a subtheme of this blog -- old children's books. Well, I thought that when I found a copy of Miss Pickerell Goes to the Arctic for 50 cents (the same price it sold for from Scholastic in the 1970s!) at an estate sale last weekend. I remembered Miss Pickerell as a the heroine of a series of books that some people used to cite as early science fiction they read when they were kids. (Particularly, I suppose, the first in the series, Miss Pickerell Goes to Mars, from 1951.) I never encountered these books as a child, so I thought a look would be interesting.

Ellen MacGregor was born in 1906 in Baltimore. She seems to have lived a peripatetic life -- she got her degree in Library Science from the University of Washington in Seattle, and worked as a librarian in Hawaii, in Chicago, and in Florida among other places. She began writing in the 1940s, and her first children's book was published in 1947. Miss Pickerell first appeared in a short story in 1950, and the story was expanded into Miss Pickerell Goes to Mars. Two further Miss Pickerell books appeared before she died, only 47, in 1954. She had completed the fourth Miss Pickerell book, the one at hand, Miss Pickerell Goes to the Arctic, and that came out the same year. (These books were copiously illustrated by Paul Galdone, an artisit I remember very well from my childhood.) Several further Miss Pickerell books were written by Dora Pantell, and credited to Pantell and MacGregor for a while, though as far as I can tell, it's unlikely that Pantell was working from any material MacGregor left behind.

The Miss Pickerell books were noted at the time for their effort to emphasize accurate science, even when she was traveling to Mars. I have to say that this entry does seem mostly accurate, at least as of 1954. The pedagogic side of MacGregor's writing is quite noticeable, with fairly frequent stops to somewhat awkwardly emphasize (usually to Miss Pickerell) some scientific fact.

Miss Pickerell is a middle aged spinster, living on a farm in Square Toe City with her beloved cow and also with her adult niece and nephew, Dwight and Rosemary. The action in this book begins with Miss Pickerell at a soda fountain, discussing the encyclopedia Miss Pickerell has lent to the soda jerk, Mr. Esticott, who is also a train conductor. This opens the opportunity for some information about the migration habits of the arctic tern to be given to the reader ... and for Mr. Esticott to mention his cousin Foster, a retired Arctic bush pilot.

Miss Pickerell is looking for a present for her cow, and one thing leads to another, as she learns that Foster would desperately love to fly to the Arctic to help with a research expedition, while she also meets a salesman trying to market his new snowmobile/mobile home. So Miss Pickerell agrees to buy the mobile home for her cow ... but then there's an emergency on the Arctic expedition, and somehow Foster ends up flying his plane up there with the snowmobile in the back, accompanied by Miss Pickerell and the salesman (who is also an engineer and a pilot.)

The action concerns terrible weather in the Arctic, a crash landing, lack of fuel for the snowmobile, and a desperate mission to get fuel and then get to the original expedition to rescue them. Miss Pickerell's ends up on an ice island, and her beloved umbrella comes in handy. (Given away on the cover.) All in all there's not a ton of tension, and things all seem a bit implausible, but I can see that I might have liked this as a kid. Miss Pickerell is a reasonably fun character, anyway.

Birthday Review: Stories of Robert Silverberg

SFWA Grand Master Robert Silverberg turns 85 today. He's been part of my reading for almost 50 years -- when I was 11 or 12, I happened across his first "novel", a juvenile called Revolt on Alpha C. I confess that didn't make much of an impression on me, and I'm not sure I made any connection between that novel and the (much better!) Silverberg stories I began to read a couple of years later, when I started into books like the Nebula Award volumes. His Nebula winning novel A Time of Changes was one of the first books I bought from the Science Fiction Book Club, early in 1975. Since then I've read dozens of his novels and countless short stories, often truly outstanding, and from very early in his career, never less than professional and engaging.

In the past I've posted reviews of several of his Ace Doubles here, but I've not looked at his short fiction. Here's a set of reviews I've done, some from early in his career, and some from quite late, after I began reviewing for Locus. As with many of these review sets, I haven't covered his very best work -- most of which I read before I was writing about what I read. But this is a nice cross section of some fine work from across his career, including his last novel (unless you count Roma Eterna, a fixup of linked short stories.)

Astounding, December 1957

Robert Silverberg's "Precedent" is set on a world of somewhat primitive aliens, who have been contacted by humans. Humans are the dominant force in this section of the galaxy, and indeed they have never encountered an alien race at a comparable level of development. Their policy is to engage the alien races as friends, trying to avoid "Cargo Cult" reactions. One arm of this policy is that humans on the planet are required to be subject to alien laws. Curiously, this has only been a problem once before, and the man who mistakenly violated a law was sentenced to trial by ordeal, which he survived. Now it has happened again -- a Lieutenant rather brazenly ate his lunch on the temple steps at a sacred hour.

The story is told from the point of view of the base commander, and we learn that this is all part of his plan. Apparently he is disgusted by the local laws, so he has set up the Lieutenant to violate one. The guy is a ringer, of course, an expert boxer. So when, during his trial by combat, he defeats the much larger alien champion, and confesses to his guilt anyway, the aliens are presented with a conundrum -- how can their legal system be correct if it allows contradictory results? I have to admit, I'm not convinced that the local authorities would react as planned.

If, August 1958; Science Fiction Adventures #20

Silverberg's "The Wages of Death" is a reprint from the August 1958 issue of If. On a colony planet that has just rebelled and declared its freedom from Earth, the few remaining Loyalists face a sentence of death. They decide to hire an adventurer to guide them across a continent to a spaceship which will take them to a safer world. The story centers on the relationship between Macintyre, more or less the leader of the Loyalists, and their cynical, in-it-for-the-money guide, Wallace. Wallace is portrayed as a man who will do anything necessary for his own good -- and Macintyre begins to wonder if that includes double crossing his group. The ending is a bit shocking (though well established), and quite a bit cynical. It's hard to decide who if anyone to like in the story, which may be the point. (Even the larger question of whether Earth or the colony planet is right in their struggle is not clear cut -- and I have to wonder if the story resonates a little differently for English readers than for Americans.) Really, not a bad piece of work. Silverberg, even from the earliest, was ever a competent writer, and ever a readable writer. If this early work doesn't compare to the stories from the mid-60s on -- well, so what? Comparison with Brunner's career seems interesting. At any rate, this early story is a pretty effective effort.

Galaxy, December 1965

Silverberg's "The Warriors of Light" is about an ambitious acolyte in a future religious organization, the Brotherhood, built on scientific principles, and devoted to achieving life extension for humanity. His ambition trips him up, and promises to stunt his advancement, so he becomes vulnerable to recruitment by a heretical splinter group, which arranges for his transfer to the hub of the Brotherhood's research program, in exchange for his agreement to spy for the splinter group. The whole working out is rather cynical, in a believable way. The story seemed to call for both predecessors and sequels, and it turns out that indeed it is the second of five stories which were knitted together into one of the first of Silverberg's middle period novels, To Open the Sky. (I haven't read the novel.) This is fine work, though not as intense nor as absorbing as much of the great work that was coming from Silverberg in the succeeding years.

Locus Online review of three serials, 2002

(Cover by Fred Gambino)

Robert Silverberg's new novel, "The Longest Way Home", was serialized in the October/November and December 2001, and January 2002, issues of Asimov's.  It's about 87,000 words long.  It's more or less a Young Adult novel, featuring anyway a 15 year old boy as protagonist, and a fairly clear cut moral issue for him to ponder as he quite explicitly Comes Of Age,  and some sweet initiatory sex.  I found it quite fun to read as well, very fast moving, not particularly complex but interesting.  As with much later Silverberg, the furniture of the novel seems heavily influenced by Jack Vance, though of course the prose is pure Silverberg, no trace of Vance at all.

Joseph Master Keilloran, the 15 year old eldest son of Martin Master Keilloran, heir to the families large estate in the southern continent of Helikis on the planet Homeworld, is visiting his cousins on the northern continent, Manza.  One night he is woken by gunfire and explosions.  Soon he realizes that the Folk of his cousins' estate are rebelling, and slaughtering the ruling Masters.  Joseph escapes with the help of a sympathetic Folk retainer.

We learn that the planet Homeworld was colonized from Earth millennia  previously by the ancestors of the Folk.  The Folk established a rather agrarian, low tech way of life.  Centuries later, they were conquered in turn by another wave of Earth colonists, the ancestors of the current Masters, who established a higher tech system, quasi-Feudal, with the Masters ruling, and the Folk basically serfs.  As presented (from Joseph's POV, of course) the Masters' rule has been quite benign, but it's still oppressive, of course.  And there is a good deal of racism in the Masters' view of the Folk.  The planet is also inhabited by a variety of intelligent species, most notably the so called Indigenes, who have approximately human intelligence.  The other "higher" species have somewhat lesser intelligence, but are clearly sentient and sapient, with spoken languages at least.  Probably in part due to a habit of coexistence with other intelligent species, and in part due to a somewhat contemplative and fatalistic philosophy, the Indigenes tolerate the presence of both the Folk and the Masters -- and after all, as far as we are allowed to see, humans of both waves of colonization seem to have been quite careful and non-exploitative in their interactions with the Indigenes and other intelligent native species of this world.

Joseph decides to find his way home.  He has no idea of how widely spread is the Folk rebellion against the Masters; and he has to travel several thousand miles to the southern continent to boot.  On foot, with nothing but a backpack and a few implements.  The basic theme that emerges is that he will have no chance without help and cooperation.  He is first helped by an inscrutable "noctambulo" -- part of a species which has different "consciousnesses" during day and night.  This being feeds Joseph grubs and the like, then guides him to the nearest Indigene village.  Joseph, by this time severely injured, is nursed to some semblance of health by the Indigenes, who soon realize that he has some basic medical knowledge (essentially just First Aid plus a tiny amount of vet stuff learned from farm work) which they lack, and Joseph ends up in essence trading his medical services for first shelter and food, then travel southward, as the Indigenes shuttle him from village to village for some months, generally going south.  After that stops working, Joseph escapes again and wanders through the mountains, only to be rescued from near starvation by some free Folk, Folk who lived in a remote enough place to have never been subjugated by the Masters.  Eventually his wanderings continue ... until, much changed both externally and internally, he is finally restored to his family.

(Cover by Jim Burns)

The story, then, is really very simple.  But it's interesting throughout, and Joseph is a nice enough character to spend time with.  The aliens Silverberg imagines are fairly neat.  The central moral learning that Joseph must undergo is obvious enough -- more or less that the Folk are real people and don't deserve to be enslaved, no matter how benignly, but still this message is presented well.  And we can hope that he might be able to help guide the southern continent into a more just political and social change than the Rebellion in the north, which is clearly accompanied by atrocities on the level of say the Rwandan genocide, even if at some level probably understandable.  Though Silverberg doesn't really suggest what Joseph may do to accomplish this.

Locus, March 2003

Speaking of continuing series, Robert Silverberg's latest Roma Eterna alternate history is "The Reign of Terror" (Asimov's, April), in which a decadent and spendthrift Emperor drives his two Consuls to extreme measures to root out corruption in Rome: but extreme measures have a way of corrupting those who use them. This is one of the better efforts in this project.

Locus, June 2003

The strongest story of a fairly strong June issue of Realms of Fantasy is a reprint, Robert Silverberg's "Crossing Into the Empire". Gateways into a mysterious city of the past open up every six months or so, and men cross over to trade modern trinkets for ancient art. One such man is caught, and ends up facing a logical and interesting fate.

Locus, April 2006

The latest SFBC collection of novellas is Gardner Dozois’s One Million A.D. The six stories here are all set nominally at least several hundred thousand years in the future, and mostly they do a pretty good job of actually suggesting a fairly radical future. Perhaps Robert Silverberg’s “A Piece of Old Earth” is the exception – it’s set in his New Springtime world, that is to say, on Earth after humans have been succeeded by the Six Races who have been in turn been succeeded by a new civilization emerging from a long hibernation. So it is far in the future, but the tech level is not even quite present day, and the main characters are monkey-derived folks who act pretty much like us. But the story is entertaining, about a young architect who has an affair with an aristocratic historian, and is thus drawn into a journey across the sea to encounter the sad remnants of a pre-Winter race.

Locus, August 2011

The August Asimov's also features an enjoyable Majipoor story from Robert Silverberg, “The End of the Line”, in which a loyal assistant to the Coronal investigates the issue of Majipoor’s native sentient species, the shapeshifting Metamorphs, in hopes of avoiding war.

In Memoriam, Mike Resnick

Mike Resnick died early this morning at the age of 77. He was an extremely successful SF writer, with 5 Hugos and  a Nebula to his name. He was also a significant figure as an editor, with a great many themed anthologies in the '90s and oughts, giving encouragement to any number of new writers. He was the executive editor of Jim Baen's Universe, a very impressive early online SF 'zine. And for the past few years he edited Galaxy's Edge, a very attractive magazine with a noticeable focus on new writers, humorous stories, and classic reprints. Resnick was always willing to "pay it forward".

I met Resnick a number of times, at a few Worldcons and several Windycons. We shared a few panels, and I had the opportunity to sit and chat with him at length on a couple of occasions. He was a nearly peerless storyteller -- not all writers are storytellers in the flesh, but Resnick was. A raconteur, as they say, and it was great fun just to listen to him talk.

I didn't get a chance to review much of his major, award-winning, work. But in his honor, here are a few things I wrote about some of his later stories.

Locus, July 2003

Speaking of heartstring-tugging, Mike Resnick engages in some of the same in "Robots Don't Cry" from the July Asimov's. A pair of interplanetary salvagers come across an ancient robot on an abandoned planet. The robot, they learn, was a guardian for a doomed, diseased, woman. The interplay between the sarcastic narrative of the tough salvager and the sentimental core of the story keeps it just this side of maudlin – at any rate it worked on me.

Locus, March 2004

The February Asimov's opens with a fine, affecting, short story by Mike Resnick, "Travels With My Cats". Ethan Owens finds a travel book of that title by one Miss Priscilla Wallace at the age of 11, and against all odds becomes fascinated with its tales of exotic lands. But his life becomes mundane and lonely, and at 40 he remains unmarried, a copy editor for a small-town newspaper. Then his rediscovery of the book kindles an interest in the author – dead since 1926. But somehow she appears on his porch one evening, and the two, as well as her cats, strike up a relationship – with a somewhat unexpected ending.

Review of Adventure Vol. 1 (Locus, October 2006)

The funniest story here is probably “Island of Annoyed Souls” by Mike Resnick, one of his Lucifer Jones tales. He’s been writing these for a long time, sending the Right Reverend Jones from continent to continent over the course of three collections to date. Now he’s in South America, and he comes to an island in the Amazon, where, we soon learn, lives a version of Wells’ Dr. Moreau, along with a bunch of very annoyed criminals who have been turned into animals.

Locus, January 2008

And Mike Resnick’s “Alastair Baffle’s Emporium of Wonders” (Asimov's, January) is a thoughtful story about one of those mysterious shops, this on a magic supply store at which a couple of boys meet, leading to a lifelong partnership. And now they are aging, and try to find the store one last time. Inevitably, when they find it, they find that there is real magic on offer. But is such magic really worth the price?

Review of Fast Forward 2 (Locus, November 2008)

Mike Resnick and Pat Cadigan contribute “Not Quite Alone in the Dream Quarter”, a crime story of sorts about interactions with aliens who are fascinated by human emotions of all sorts, including those involved in murder.

Locus, January 2014

In Old Mars, some authors embrace the pulpish past wholeheartedly – most notably Mike Resnick, with “In the Tombs of the Martian Kings”, featuring a Earthman named Scorpio and his doglike blue Venusian sidekick Merlin as they guide a Martian scholar to the supposed site of the tomb of alien kings who ruled Mars long ago … This might be said to set a template: it's fun implausible stuff, with a nice closing twist.

Birthday Review: Dreadful Sanctuary, Three to Conquer, and stories by Eric Frank Russell

Eric Frank Russell was a UK writer who was quite popular in SF from the appearance of his classic novel Sinister Barrier in Unknown in 1939 (supposedly one motivation for John Campbell starting that fantasy companion to Astounding was his desire to publish Sinister Barrier) until his retirement in 1965. He was born on January 6, 1905, and died in 1978. Here is a slightly belated birthday review, covering two of his novels that were Astounding serials, "Dreadful Sanctuary" and "Call Him Dead" aka Three to Conquer, and a couple of short stories as well.

Astounding, June, July, August 1948

(Cover by William Timmins)

Eric Frank Russell's "Dreadful Sanctuary" was serialized in Astounding in 1948. It's a surprisingly long book for a three-part serial: about 92,000 words. I read it in the serialized version, then a later, strangely revised, book version.

The story involves John Armstrong, an engineer and inventor involved with the 18th attempted moon shot. The previous 17 rockets have all blown up, mostly just as they were about to reach the moon. Armstrong decides that some organized opposition is sabotaging the rockets. One other scientist had similar ideas -- but when Armstrong talks to him he suddenly dies. Armstrong gets involved with the sister of this man, beautiful physicist Clair Mandle, and with her help, and that of a newspaperman and a PI, he starts to get close to the truth. He finds himself at a strange club, where he is kidnapped and asked "How do you know you are sane?" These guys tell him that Earth is a sort of prison planet, where all the insane people from the other planets (Mercury, Venus and Mars) are kept. These people are color coded (somewhat queasily): Mercurians are black, Venusians brown, the only native Earthmen are the "yellow" Asians, and Martians are white. (I think the rationale is closeness to the burning rays of the Sun.) But because of Earth's conditions, the other planets send all the nuts to Earth. However, some descendants of insane people might be sane -- and this club believes they can determine who the truly sane are. The insane need to be kept on Earth: hence the destruction of the spacecraft, at least until the "Nor-Mans" ("normal" or "sane" men) take over.

Our hero, however, is skeptical of the whole idea, as well as repelled, and he escapes, only to encounter another group of nuts ... Suffice it to say that the action and twists keep coming, and that Russell's resolution makes much more sense than the nuttiness I've outlined above. Still, it's not all that great a book -- a fun enough, fast enough read, but not really original enough in concept. It's also a bit marred by the attempt at American tough-guy banter, silly enough in itself, but further marred by the occasional Briticisms that EFR couldn't seem to keep out (though I think he got better at doing "American" later in his career).

Oddly, the book was reissued in revised form 1963 by Lancer Books. I also have that edition, and I took a quick look at it. It was cut somewhat, I think, but more strangely, the ending was completely changed. I'll put details at the end after the book cover pictures and a spoiler warning.*

Other Worlds, May 1950

This is a novelette by Eric Frank Russell, "Dear Devil", which is highly regarded in some quarters. It's OK, and original, but maybe a bit too implausible and a bit too overtly sentimental for my tastes. It concerns a Martian expedition sent to Earth shortly after a war has destroyed civilization. One Martian pushes to stay, by himself, on Earth to try to help the tattered remnants of humanity survive. He works to overcome instinctive revulsion, and over time influences the human children to create the beginnings of a new order, which in communion with the Martians may help the two peoples reach for the stars.

Astounding, January 1955

Eric Frank Russell's "Nothing New" is about humans visiting a planet suspected of having immortal residents. They find what seem to be rather long-lived people, but not very interesting people, then they leave. And we get a final twist revealing HOW long-lived the aliens are. I liked the story, though it is rather a trifle.

Astounding, August, September, October 1955

(Cover by Kelly Freas)

Eric Frank Russell was an Astounding regular, a British writer who adopted a rather American "voice" to sell to Campbell. Some of his novels remain fairly well-regarded, most notably perhaps Wasp, which I read some years ago when Del Rey reissued some of his best stuff. "Call Him Dead" is much less well known: it was serialized in Astounding in 1955, and published in book form the next year as Three to Conquer. It's about a secretly telepathic man who has on occasion used his abilities to help the police and the FBI solve crimes. One day he "hears" a man dying -- after going to try to help the man, a state trooper, unwillingly he again becomes involved in investigating a crime. It turns out that the criminals are something quite different -- for one thing, they can detect our hero when he "probes" their mind. The novel waits a while to reveal what they are, so I won't spoil it, but the working out of things isn't really terribly interesting. All in all it's pretty minor stuff. It winds up with a silly-ish coda about the telepathic man's loneliness -- and how it is resolved, an ending that is noticeably different from Poul Anderson's "Journeys End", which I imagine might have been written in direct response to this story.

(Cover by Ed Emswhiller)

(Cover by Ed Emshwiller)

SPOILERS for both versions of Dreadful Sanctuary follow:










In the original, Armstrong eventually learns that the "Nor-Men" are really nutters, albeit powerful and well-connected. They are Earth humans like everybody, but their leader has made them buy into this silly fantasy of being actually "sane" people from Mars. The hero and his friends discover the secret location of the 19th and 20th spaceships, and how they were to be sabotaged.  They gamble that they can fix the problems, or avoid them, and that when they reach the moon, that fait accompli will lead to the collapse of the "Nor-Man" club. Sinisterly, the "Nor-Men" are using their political power to try to start a World War, which will divert attention from space efforts -- but if Americans reach the moon, the War effort might collapse. Armstrong and a friend each take one spaceship -- Armstrong crashlands in the Pacific but is saved, and witnesses (in Clair's arms, we presume) his friend triumphantly reach the moon.

In the 1963 Lancer version, Armstrong continues into space while his friend crashes. The villains call him up, tell him that Clair and his other friends are in custody, and that his ship is damaged and won't be able to land on the moon. He goes hurtling into space, and his dying thoughts are "How do I know I'm sane?" Which is a neat last line, I have to admit.

Dave Langford claims that the Lancer editor pasted that unhappy ending on the book, and I suppose he might have had that direct from EFR. But I wouldn't be shocked if EFR had that idea himself, especially as he knew it would allow him a killer last line, but knew that the book would never sell to Campbell in that form.

Birthday Review: Short Fiction of Isaac Asimov

Birthday Review: Short Fiction of Isaac Asimov

Today would have been (officially -- the actual day is unknown) Isaac Asimov's 100th birthday. In the past I have posted reviews of Asimov Ace Doubles -- but why not a collection of my looks at his short fiction? This is a decidedly skewed look -- it's based entirely on those stories I happened across over the last couple of decades in reading old issues of SF magazines, so it misses many of his best stories, including my clear favorite of all his stories, "The Dead Past". But it does cover a couple of his very worst stories, so there's that!

Astounding, June 1948

Notable in the June 1948 issue were Isaac Asimov's "No Connection!", about intelligent bears far in the future, and the horrible idea that the disgusting monkeys from across the planet could possibly be related to the noble primates who had previously inhabited the planet, but who had gone extinct. This may be my single favorite Asimov story from the 1940s.

Universe, December 1953

"Everest" is an Isaac Asimov short-short (1200 words) which is mildly famous for predicting that the summit of Everest would first be reached in 1952, which it was. However, for a story published in late 1953, that wasn't too terribly impressive. (He wrote the story before Hillary and co. climbed the mountain, of course.) The trick here is what the first man to get to the top would find -- not much of a surprise for an SF story.

F&SF, December 1955

"Dreaming is a Private Thing" is one of Asimov's better known stories, and, I think, one of his best. The new art here is dreaming -- creating dreams that can be recorded for other people to experience. The story doesn't really turn on plot -- it examines dreaming as art, and its affect on a couple of talented dreamers -- a young boy just showing the ability, and a highly admired professional. He also considerd pornographic dreams, and low quality dreams, and their commercial effects. It's a smart and believable story.

Super Science Fiction, December 1957

And finally, Isaac Asimov's "The Gentle Vultures" also concerns aliens who plan to dominate Earth -- they simply mean to wait out the Cold War until the inevitable nuclear holocaust occurs.  But the humans won't cooperate - won't start the war!  Again, I thought the central idea was too gimmicky, too much a setup.

Infinity, January 1958

"Lenny" is one of Asimov's later Robot stories, and one of his worst. It's about a robot that is (by an absurd mechanism) altered to remain perpetually a child. Being a child, it doesn't know its own strength, so injures someone, which could be a major PR issue. But Susan Calvin is determined to save Lenny ... and in the end comes up with a thoroughly unconvincing rationale to allow that. One of the main issues I have with the story is the violence it does to Calvin's well-established character -- this is Asimov at his most cloyingly sexist.

Super Science Fiction, April 1958

Isaac Asimov is here with "All the Troubles of the World", one of his Multivac stories, about a super-powerful computer. In this case the computer becomes neurotic after absorbing the knowledge of, well, all the troubles of the world.

Fantastic Universe, January 1959

At this stage of his career Isaac Asimov could be kind of annoying – he wrote some really slapdash stuff (in amongst some excellent work, to be sure). He had a deal with various editors of lower-end magazines whereby he would offer them a new story. If they wanted to pay the same rate the top-end magazines paid, they could have the story. If not, he'd send it to the top magazines, and if they took it fine. If not, Asimov would give the story to the lower-end magazine. I don't know if this deal applied with Fantastic Universe, but if it did, I'm fairly sure “Rain, Rain, Go Away” was a story they got at their rate, not Asimov's. (Actually Wikipedia says the idea for the story came from F&SF editor Robert P. Mills, but that he rejected it, not surprisingly.) It's about an odd family of “foreigners” who seem terribly afraid of rain. The neighbors insist on getting to know them better, including an outing on what seems a very nice day … but an unexpected rainstorm comes up. I won't give the ending away, but it's really trivial. Asimov at pretty much his worst.

Birthday Review: The Sinful Ones/You're All Alone, by Fritz Leiber

Fritz Leiber was born on Christmas Eve in 1910. He died in 1992. He was named an SFWA Grand Master in 1982, and received Lifetime Achievement World Fantasy and Balrog awards as well. He also won six Hugos, two for Best Novel, two for Best Novella, and one for Best Short Story, plus a curious special award for "the use of SF in advertising". He's one of my favorite writers, so I I'm doing this belated birthday review of one of my favorites among his novels, The Sinful Ones, and its earlier version, "You're All Alone." The reviews are very brief capsules, I will add.

(Cover by Robert Gibson Jones)

The Sinful Ones had an odd publication history. It began as a novella called "You're All Alone", slated for John Campbell's fantasy companion to Astounding, Unknown. When the World War II paper shortage killed Unknown, Fritz Leiber had to abandon it. (At this time he had to take a defense job, too.) After the war he rewrote his original idea from scratch, first as a 40,000 word novel called "You're All Alone", which was published in Fantastic Adventures for July 1950. He expanded it by about 50% and this version ended up at a rather sleazy house, Universal, who added some "spicy" sex scenes, in a way that embarrassed Leiber. (They also hung the not awful but not as good as "You're All Alone" title of The Sinful Ones on it.) That edition was published in 1953 as an omnibus with another novel, about bullfighting, Blood, Bulls and Passion. (Not by Leiber.)

Finally, in 1980, Leiber had a chance to reprint the novel at Pocket Books, but he no longer had his original manuscript. So he worked from the published version, but rewrote the sex scenes. Which ended up being a good idea, I think. They're pretty good scenes (I think Leiber is a good writer of sex scenes), and there's no way the Leiber of 1953 would have written those scenes.


The Sinful Ones is a very good urban fantasy, from before there were urban fantasies. It's about a man in Chicgao, stuck in a rut, with his ambitious girlfriend pushing him to get a better job. One day he meets a strange, scared, young woman, Jane Gregg. Something about this encounter kicks him out of his rut, and he realizes in essence that he and only a few other people, including Jane, are truly "alive". As long as he is out of his "routine", nobody else perceives him. The novel is spooky, and sexy, and thought-provoking, and scary. It's a real good read, too, and the portrayal of Chicago is fun as well.  The eventual resolution is only OK, not great, but it hints at better things.

(Cover by Michael Whelan)

I read "You're All Alone" for comparison's sake. It's quite significantly different from The Sinful Ones. For the most part, the longer novel is superior, in my opinion, though some of that may be because I read it first. The basic story is the same, though: Carr Mackay discovers that almost everybody is an unconscious part of a machine: only a few people are capable of independent action. Most people use this power to play awful games with the unconscious people, but Carr is discovered by a young woman, Jane Gregg, who will not act like this, and tries to hide from the rival groups of evil awakened people. After resisting the true nature of the world for a while, Carr finally gives in, falls in love with Jane, and at the end finds himself in a desperate battle with the villains.

It's an intriguing premise (reminiscent, to me, of the movie Dark City, which I happened to see at about the same time as I first read The Sinful Ones). The conclusion in both cases is OK, but a bit abrupt, and in neither case is any larger issue resolved, beyond Carr and Jane's immediate danger. (Which may actually be the more honest approach.) But the longer novel does work things out much better, and has some decent sex scenes (added in 1980, actually, so it might not be fair to criticize "You're All Alone" for its lack of same), and in general Jane and Carr are both more fleshed out. (The edition I have of You're All Alone is an Ace paperback including the 40000 word short novel and two novelets: "Four Ghosts in Hamlet" and "The Creature from Cleveland Depths", both very well worth reading as well.)

Old Bestseller: Lavender and Old Lace, by Myrtle Reed

Old Besteller: Lavender and Old Lace, by Myrtle Reed

a review by Rich Horton

Sometimes -- often! -- the life stories of the writers of these Old Bestsellers are more interesting, more lurid, than the stories in their novels. I've covered a couple of writers who were murdered in the past. Here's a writer who committed suicide at the age of 36, despite what seems to have been a fair amount of commercial success. To be sure, commercial success does not necessarily translate to personal happiness.

Myrtle Reed was born in 1874 in Chicago. Her father was a preacher and the editor of a literary magazine (the Lakeside Monthly), and her mother was a writer on theological subjects. Myrtle published juvenilia as early as the age of 10, and continued to write, though she showed signs of depression from early on, and did not attend college after a breakdown. Her first novel, Love Letters of a Musician (1899), went through at least 15 printings, and the book at hand, Lavender and Old Lace (1902) was also wildly successful. (My copy is a Grosset and Dunlap reprint from 1907.)

Reed married James McCullough, who worked in real estate, in 1906, after a courtship of some 15 years. Alas, the marriage does not seem to have been a success, and McCullough turned to drink, and spent considerable time away from home. Reed, long a user of Veronal, committed suicide in 1911. This quote, from her posthumous novel Threads of Gray and Gold, seems possibly only too personal: "The only way to test a man is to marry him. If you live, it's a mushroom. If you die, it's a toadstool."

(Incidentally, as Greg Feeley divined, this title was what Joseph Kesselring was riffing on when he gave his play Arsenic and Old Lace its title.)

So, what of this novel itself? I have to say, I found it kind of a mess. A promising mess, in that the established situation could have resulted in a pretty neat story. But the novel fumbles things badly.

It opens with 25 year old Ruth Thorne coming to her aunt's house by the sea for a few months of rest. She's had some sort of health breakdown, and needs to take a few months off her job as a women's issues reporter for a newspaper. (Her job is presumably in New York, and her Aunt's house must be in, perhaps, Connecticut? Never made clear.) Oddly, though, Ruth's aunt, Miss Jane Hathaway (whom she has never met) has gone overseas on a suddenly planned trip. Ruth meets the maid of all work, Hepsley, and settles in to a very languid life, her only duty a strange one: to light a lamp and leave it in the window of the attic every night.

Soon Ruth has explored the attic and found some curious hints of an interesting past for her aunt. A seafaring man seems to have been important. And a man named Charles Winfield is mentioned. Along with a notice of Mr. Winfield's marriage to another woman, and that woman's death. But Rose is a gentlewoman, and refuses to snoop further.

Soon she encounters an old, but perhaps estranged, friend of Miss Hathaway, a Miss Ainslie. Miss Ainslie obviously has her own secrets, and she is considered very odd by the rest of the village. But Ruth and Miss Ainslie quickly become very close friends. More complications arise from M iss Hathaway's maid Hepsley's extended courtship by a local yokel; and then by the appearance of a young man who also works on a newspaper, and who also is on a rest cure -- in his case, his eyes have failed him. This man has the intriguing name of Carl Winfield. Before long Ruth is reading the daily newspaper to Carl, and as the reader expects, they begin to become close ...

The resolution is prompted by the sudden return of Miss Hathaway, who is no longer Miss Hathaway, but instead Mrs. Ball. Mr. Ball is named James, and he seems not too happy about his perhaps forced marriage. It seems he is the mysterious man in Miss Hathaway's past, who maybe ran away to sea to escape her clutches. Then what of the mysterious Charles Winfield? And the light in the window? And Miss Ainslie's past, not to mention her unusual interest in young Carl Winfield?

I'm sure you can all guess the answers to these questions. Alas, they are revealed in a terribly anticlimactic fashion. So the novel really disappoints. But there are lots of interesting elements. Hepsley and her beau, for example, are sometimes amusing comic foils. So too is James Ball, and his relationship with his new wife, the former Miss Hathaway, is also played, fairly effectively, for laughs. And the whole story of the light in the window, and Miss Ainslie's secret, is reasonable scaffolding for a cool mystery. But for all that, Reed just doesn't make the whole mix work.