SF Magazines Research Articles

The Rise of the Cyberzines: The Story of the Science-Fiction Magazines from 1991–2020.Vol.5 of The History of the Science-Fiction Magazine by Mike Ashley

Reviewed by: The Rise of the Cyberzines: The Story of the Science-Fiction Magazines from 1991–2020.Vol.5 of The History of the Science-Fiction Magazine by Mike Ashley Paul Kincaid Going Digital. Mike Ashley. The Rise of the Cyberzines: The Story of the Science-Fiction Magazines from 1991–2020. Vol. 5 of The History of the Science-Fiction Magazine. Liverpool UP, liverpool science fiction texts and studies, 2022. xvi+444 pp. £95 hc. There was a time when I would regularly receive a selection of Best-of-the-Year anthologies to review. This selection would usually include the annual massive volume from Gardner Dozois. And so I read them, carefully, cover to cover, not just the stories but also the introductions. It did not take long to recognize a familiar pattern in these introductions. They would skim lightly across the high or low points of the year: such-and-such was the big publishing event; soand-so died; this thing was controversial; that thing was a popular success; these were the big award winners, and so on. Then at some point Dozois would come on to the business of publishing and it was remarkable how familiar the story was from one year to the next. It would seem sometimes as though the same text could be cut and pasted from one volume to the next, with only a few numbers changed. The magazines had a successful year, but circulations were falling. Circulations were always falling. I am sure that if I were to comb diligently through all thirty-odd volumes of The Year’s Best Science Fiction I might find occasional instances of a magazine whose circulation increased, but if they exist at all they are rare. Science-fiction magazines seem to have been a slowly dying breed for most of the last half century. It is not just that these magazines seem to be kept alive by some financial alchemy even as income keeps declining at an apparently catastrophic rate, but also that now there is a new threat to their existence. Over the last dozen years or so, a number of online magazines have appeared, such as Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, Strange Horizons,and Uncanny, that, after the usual false starts and hesitations, have proved to be remarkably stable and successful. These online magazines, “cyberzines” as Mike Ashley calls them, have drawn attention away from the print magazines and are now every bit as likely to pick up top-rated contributors and award nominations. And with far lower overheads, they start from a much better position than their print rivals. Even so, readership figures for the best of the cyberzines still barely match the ever-decreasing circulation figures for the print magazines, although I am not sure what metric allows you to compare the two sets of figures fairly. Thus, although there seem to be ever more venues appearing for short fiction and, more often than not, disappearing, and although there seem to be more short stories than ever being published, the market for sf short stories is not particularly healthy. It may be healthier than other genres, but that is not saying a lot. The audience for science fiction gets their fix primarily, I suspect, from television, then from film, then, some distance behind, from novels. The short story is, I would guess, so far behind these three as to be almost out of sight. We have a Romantic myth in science fiction that magazines are integral to the whole story of the genre. It is a myth that harks back to fabled publications such as Amazing, Astounding, F&SF, Galaxy, and New Worlds, back to a time when [End Page 116] there were fewer options for feeding an addiction to science fiction. But that myth has not been true for decades, probably not since the 1960s. I have a feeling that if every sf magazine were to disappear overnight, the vast majority of the consumers of science fiction would not even blink. The history of science fiction can no longer be equated with the history of the magazines; indeed, the story of the magazines forms no more than a curious sidebar to the history of the...

Science Fiction in Belgrade in the 1920s: A Possible Contribution to the Development of Metropolitan Belgrade

Historian Jovana Babović claims that post-World War I Belgrade residents embraced different foreign cultural influences in an attempt to become citizens of western type metropolis. Various examples that support her claim were discovered through analysing a specific area of popular culture — science fiction — and enriched with interesting findings about surprisingly fast translations of certain stories, at the very beginning of the establishment of science fiction as an independent genre by Hugo Gernsback, publisher of the world’s first SF magazine Amazing Stories (1926). Several stories from its first issues appeared after only a few months in the Belgrade magazine Reč i slika [Words and Images], with faithful copies by domestic illustrators of original drawings by the leading US genre illustrator of that time, Frank R. Paul.
 Despite the relatively small number of translated stories, influence on domestic writers and illustrators of popular fiction was significant. The importance of these stories is reflected in the growing penetration of Serbian popular culture by US influences, which began to gain signifi cance in relation to the hitherto dominant French, German and Russian influences.
 Unfortunately, considering that most of the people involved in these activities died during World War II, and that there is no archived documentation, the pathways by which these stories reached readers in Serbia have yet to be uncovered.

Gutenberg in a Galaxy Far, Far Away

145 BOOKS IN REVIEW the backdrop. A creative and different approach is taken by the Bollywood director Rakesh Roshan for his film Koi ... Mil Gaya [Someone ... Has Been Found, 2003], which re-adapts both Ray’ script as well as Spielberg’s E.T. This film, while very ordinary in quality, was a runaway success and a landmark in Indian sf blockbuster cinema. It has spawned two wildly popular sequels with a fourth film in the works, and also inspired Indian sf film production in this century. Ray’s work has also inspired art. For instance, the Rubin Museum in New York recently hosted work by the German artist Matti Braun, the centerpiece of which is the lotus pond from Ray’s script (rubinmuseum.org/ events/exhibitions/a-lost-future). The fascinating experience invites viewers to cross the pond on floating wooden logs, and draws them into the world of Ray’s—and Braun’s—vision by transforming viewers into both the human and alien observers on the otherworldly surface of a dark lake on the fifth floor of the museum. Even more importantly, the book pays homage to Ray’s vision for sf, especially the uses it could be put to both for the imagination in general and for Bengal more specifically. Much of Ray’s sf, with a couple of exceptions, is meant for a relatively young audience, but Ray’s ideas about sf were always about laying a certain groundwork for the reception of sf in Bengal, something that he wanted to do with the Cine Club. Others, including Adrish Bardhan and Ranen Ghosh, who were associated with Bangla sf magazines such as Ascharja [variant spelling Ashchorjo, trans. Wonder] and Fantastic, shared his goal. Ray was well aware of all kinds of sf, as the foreword by Sandip Ray and the book itself make clear: he read the latest sf, subscribed to magazines such as Omni and Heavy Metal, and also had personal friendships with several sf writers. Thus the specific form of sf to which he wanted to contribute, juvenile or young adult sf, was a deliberate choice. The sf Cine Club was meant to bring the best of European and American sf film to audiences in Bengal; the magazines, led by Bardhan, were to bring a more adult awareness to the genre, and create and promote sf; and the more juvenile strain was meant to encourage curiosity among younger audiences. This strategy, laid out by Ray, Bardhan, and others, did not completely work in its own time, but its traces are now the seed of the current generation of sf writing in Bengal. The mythos of the unmade The Alien works in the Bangla sf imaginary as a beacon to a promised future. This book deserves to be read by anyone interested in the history of sf cinema, Indian sf, or world sf.—Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay, University of Oslo Gutenberg in a Galaxy Far, Far Away. Artur Skweres. McLuhan’s Galaxies: Science Fiction Film Aesthetics in Light of Marshall McLuhan’s Thought. Cham, Switzerland: Springer, 2019. xxvi+110 pp. $89.99 hc, $69.99 ebk. Scholarly work that makes the claim that it is exploring uncharted territory immediately prompts two questions: “how well does it map this new territory?” and “what is left unmapped?” In the introduction to McLuhan’s Galaxies: Science Fiction Film Aesthetics in Light of Marshall McLuhan’s Thought, Artur Skweres asserts that “McLuhan’s theories have not been systematically linked with interpretation of science fiction” (xi). This is a fair 146 SCIENCE FICTION STUDIES, VOLUME 47 (2020) enough assessment, given that the frequently Joycean and aphoristic nature of McLuhan’s speculations makes them easier to apply to broader cultural trends than to close readings of single artistic works or genres. Even so, McLuhan dropped hints that there might be fruitful links between his ideas and sf. You do not have to venture too far into The Gutenberg Galaxy (U of Toronto P, 1962) to find the pronouncement that “Our technologies … now demand an interplay and ratio that makes rational coexistence possible” (5; emphasis added). Technology creating rational coexistence fairly conjures up visions of the pacifist futuristic utopias that provided the setting for many...

Gutenberg in a Galaxy Far, Far Away

145 BOOKS IN REVIEW the backdrop. A creative and different approach is taken by the Bollywood director Rakesh Roshan for his film Koi ... Mil Gaya [Someone ... Has Been Found, 2003], which re-adapts both Ray’ script as well as Spielberg’s E.T. This film, while very ordinary in quality, was a runaway success and a landmark in Indian sf blockbuster cinema. It has spawned two wildly popular sequels with a fourth film in the works, and also inspired Indian sf film production in this century. Ray’s work has also inspired art. For instance, the Rubin Museum in New York recently hosted work by the German artist Matti Braun, the centerpiece of which is the lotus pond from Ray’s script (rubinmuseum.org/ events/exhibitions/a-lost-future). The fascinating experience invites viewers to cross the pond on floating wooden logs, and draws them into the world of Ray’s—and Braun’s—vision by transforming viewers into both the human and alien observers on the otherworldly surface of a dark lake on the fifth floor of the museum. Even more importantly, the book pays homage to Ray’s vision for sf, especially the uses it could be put to both for the imagination in general and for Bengal more specifically. Much of Ray’s sf, with a couple of exceptions, is meant for a relatively young audience, but Ray’s ideas about sf were always about laying a certain groundwork for the reception of sf in Bengal, something that he wanted to do with the Cine Club. Others, including Adrish Bardhan and Ranen Ghosh, who were associated with Bangla sf magazines such as Ascharja [variant spelling Ashchorjo, trans. Wonder] and Fantastic, shared his goal. Ray was well aware of all kinds of sf, as the foreword by Sandip Ray and the book itself make clear: he read the latest sf, subscribed to magazines such as Omni and Heavy Metal, and also had personal friendships with several sf writers. Thus the specific form of sf to which he wanted to contribute, juvenile or young adult sf, was a deliberate choice. The sf Cine Club was meant to bring the best of European and American sf film to audiences in Bengal; the magazines, led by Bardhan, were to bring a more adult awareness to the genre, and create and promote sf; and the more juvenile strain was meant to encourage curiosity among younger audiences. This strategy, laid out by Ray, Bardhan, and others, did not completely work in its own time, but its traces are now the seed of the current generation of sf writing in Bengal. The mythos of the unmade The Alien works in the Bangla sf imaginary as a beacon to a promised future. This book deserves to be read by anyone interested in the history of sf cinema, Indian sf, or world sf.—Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay, University of Oslo Gutenberg in a Galaxy Far, Far Away. Artur Skweres. McLuhan’s Galaxies: Science Fiction Film Aesthetics in Light of Marshall McLuhan’s Thought. Cham, Switzerland: Springer, 2019. xxvi+110 pp. $89.99 hc, $69.99 ebk. Scholarly work that makes the claim that it is exploring uncharted territory immediately prompts two questions: “how well does it map this new territory?” and “what is left unmapped?” In the introduction to McLuhan’s Galaxies: Science Fiction Film Aesthetics in Light of Marshall McLuhan’s Thought, Artur Skweres asserts that “McLuhan’s theories have not been systematically linked with interpretation of science fiction” (xi). This is a fair 146 SCIENCE FICTION STUDIES, VOLUME 47 (2020) enough assessment, given that the frequently Joycean and aphoristic nature of McLuhan’s speculations makes them easier to apply to broader cultural trends than to close readings of single artistic works or genres. Even so, McLuhan dropped hints that there might be fruitful links between his ideas and sf. You do not have to venture too far into The Gutenberg Galaxy (U of Toronto P, 1962) to find the pronouncement that “Our technologies … now demand an interplay and ratio that makes rational coexistence possible” (5; emphasis added). Technology creating rational coexistence fairly conjures up visions of the pacifist futuristic utopias that provided the setting for many...

Hubbard Bubble, Dianetics Trouble: An Evaluation of the Representations of Dianetics and Scientology in Science Fiction Magazines From 1949 to 1999

Dianetics was unveiled to the public in the May 1950 edition of Astounding Science Fiction. Dianetics was the brainchild of science fiction author L. Ron Hubbard, and became the foundation for scientology toward the end of the decade. Dianetics was marketed as a “scientific” method for mental improvement—a robust alternative to conventional psychiatry—and was strongly debated in science fiction (sf) magazines. This article follows the trajectory of this cultural phenomenon from 1949 to 1999 as it appeared in this form of popular culture. A proximal reading method was applied to analyze 4,431 magazines, and identified 389 references to dianetics and scientology. References were found in advertising, reader letters, stories, feature articles, and editorials. Significant fluctuations in the prominence and perception of dianetics became clearly visible in the source material across a broad spectrum of content. Negative criticism was present from the outset, and based on logical and scientific arguments. This was countered by obfuscation, or attacks on the authors of these critiques. The followers and promoters of dianetics did not provide scientifically rigorous proof of their claims, and by the mid-1980s, dianetics and scientology were no longer serious topics in the magazines but had been added to other fads and fallacies of sf history. This article demonstrates the effectiveness of a digital humanities proximal reading method to underpin objective classification and analysis of this culturally significant phenomenon.

Australian Science Fiction in the Sixties

Australian science fiction's roots go back to the mid-nineteenth century, mainly in the form of novels. When the genre began to take on a distinct identity in the American pulp magazines of the 1920s and 1930s, Australians were among the contributors, but early in 1940 that all changed. A wartime import ban cut off the supply of American magazines, and almost overnight a local pulp industry sprang up and continued until the restriction was lifted in 1958.1 As a result, Australia was largely isolated from American science fiction for nearly two decades, and when the import ban on American magazines was lifted, the few local SF magazines quickly ceased publication. By 1960, Australia had neither specialist SF magazines nor publishers.Science fiction itself was under considerable stress at the time. By 1961, the USSR and America were putting men in space, uncrewed probes were reaching the moon, and even Britain was launching Black Knight rockets from an Australian facility at Woomera. With these icons of SF being suddenly made real, authors overseas wondered where SF could go next. In Australia, the problem was more straightforward: local authors just wanted their works published and taken seriously. For Australians, that was generally in British or American magazines.Initially they were not very visible. As a teenager, I read A. Bertram Chandler's The Rim of Space without knowing that the author was Australian. The little Australian SF that did get published was being swamped by the sheer volume of what was available from overseas.How much was little? In the 1990s, I acquired a box of magazines that a teenager had collected in the 1950s, then stored and forgotten. It contained about one hundred issues of various science fiction magazines, including Australian issues of Astounding, New Worlds, and Science Fiction Adventures.2 About a third of the items were locally produced and edited magazines such as Science Fiction Monthly, Future Science Fiction, and Selected Science Fiction Magazine. Analysis of this sample of what was available to the average young reader of the 1950s showed that the Australian content was just 2% of the stories. Worse, most of this 2% had already been published overseas.Soon after the wartime magazine import ban was lifted in 1958, overseas SF magazines streamed in and were readily available from newsagents. Libraries generally had British and American SF novels on their shelves within a year of publication. Brick Bradford, Flash Gordon, and Ace O'Hara serials were in the newspapers, and on the radio there was Space Patrol, Tarzan, and Superman. On television, Jet Jackson and Men in Space were showing, while Batman serials and an occasional full-length SF film were to be seen at the cinemas. Inspiration was now freely available to Australians, but getting what was inspired into print was harder.In spite of the difficulties, compared to the preceding decade, the 1960s saw the number of active Australian authors double, with two thirds more novels published per year, and (even excluding Chandler's disproportionately high output of short SF) the number of stories published rising by 250%. Unfortunately, the number of female authors plunged from 20% to 2%, and authors having three or fewer stories published doubled. Put another way, more male authors were writing fewer stories per head. Ninety-two Australian SF authors were active from 1961 to 1970, with more than three hundred works of long and short fiction published.Most of the short SF published locally was in mainstream and mass-market magazines. Magazines like Man Junior and The Australian Journal published most of the locally written SF, but they are difficult to research because no complete runs survive. Their SF was selected for lowest common denominator, mass audience appeal. Ron Smith's Day of Retreat (Squire, 1967) was one of the better stories that they published. A naked man is pursued by naked women through an Arcadian setting, and the object of the chase is an amorous encounter for the woman who catches him. …

Descartes Meets Edgar Rice Burroughs: Beating the Rationalist Equations in Zamiatin's We

AbstractZamiatin's We presents a totalitarian world founded on an extreme application of the quantifying logic of Western rationalism. Everywhere in the rhetoric of D-503, spokesman for the One State, we hear echoes of Descartes, Leibniz, Spinoza, Pascal. Even so, from his very first utterances we see mind unable to control passions, to separate itself from the res extensa relegated beyond the Green Wall. In this “war of rhetorics” for the narrator's soul, we recognize the reason's antagonist to be pulp science fiction – the lurid purple prose and “pink Venusians” displayed on the covers of pulp SF magazines current in France and England at the time of World War I, unruly visions inspired by Verne and the American dime novel. From the evidence in his text, Zamiatin knew these magazines from his stay in England. Irrational numbers are not enough to break down the dreaded equations of rational control. For D-503, the square root of -1 is the unruly forces of pulp prose and images, the way in which mind and body free themselves to explore the “irrational” world of material phenomena, worlds of imagination without end. Pulp becomes Zamiatin's “Dionysian” element. In using it as such, however, Zamiatin makes an important connection. For science fiction itself is a literature born of Descartes's call for mind to master nature, of Pascal's claim that human reason in unique, and alone, in his infinite spaces. But since its own rationalist origins, science fiction itself has struggled against rationalist closure, seeking ways to free mind and body – science and the human condition – for open-ended exploration of worlds beyond logic.

A Report on the World's Largest SF Magazine

A Report on the World's Largest SF Magazine