DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Fantasite, v. 2, issue 3, whole no. 9, August-September 1942

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Fantasite, v. 2, issue 3, whole no. 9, August-September 1942

Page 7

THE FANTASITE.....................................................7
light was never seen again...and presently the inhabitants of Altenborg sent out secretly to their colleagues and associates throughout the world the news of what had transpired, that they might know that the primordial gods had not forgotten man.

ALAS, POOR YORICK!

By 
D.W. BOGGS

   IT WAS after the war.
   He stood before the newstand, glancing over the rackful of gaudy-covered magazines. There weren't as many of them as there had been before he was mustered into the army. There weren't many titles he recognized, except a few in the "slick" group. He probed vainly among the pulps, searching for one that looked familiar.
   "What's become of Astounding?" he wondered half-aloud. "And Unknown Worlds, and Thrilling Wonder Stories? Good old TWS! Have all the fantasy mags gone out of business?"
   Western and detective magazines were in evidence, but they were almost crowded out by air-war and love-story publications in some abundance. But no fantasy magazines....
   In heart-sick desperation, he questioned the proprietor.
   "Science-fiction mags?" the aged gentleman repeated in a cracked tenor. "Stories of rocket-ships and robots and stuff like that there? Well, I do recollect there usta be a passel of 'em. They went out durin' the war. Oh, say! We do have one science-fiction magazine yet. I'll find it for yuh."
   And he brought out a fat, beautiful copy of Amazing!
   The sight of that magazine momentarily overwhelmed the youth with a wave of nausea, but in the next instant he clutched at it as a drowning man grasps at a straw. 
   This emotional tide ebbed, too, as he left the drugstore. His eyes were not quite dry as he whispered: "Alas, to think that only Amazing lives on, the last and unworthy representative of a proud literature. Truly, fantasy has died, never to be reborn. Poor fantasy. Requiescat in pace."

         * * * * * *  **  *
   May such a scene never come to pass. May heaven and Leon Henderson allow the fantasy magazines to survive the war. Yes, and may organized American fandom slumber even less heavily than that of England, and be easily resuscitated after the conflict is over.
   However, if our favorite magazines are forced to suspend publication in the near future, it will be no reason to mumble a hopeless eulogy over fantasy such as our character did in the sketch above.

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THE FANTASITE.....................................................7 light was never seen again...and presently the inhabitants of Altenborg sent out secretly to their colleagues and associates throughout the world the news of what had transpired, that they might know that the primordial gods had not forgotten man. ALAS, POOR YORICK! By D.W. BOGGS IT WAS after the war. He stood before the newstand, glancing over the rackful of gaudy-covered magazines. There weren't as many of them as there had been before he was mustered into the army. There weren't many titles he recognized, except a few in the "slick" group. He probed vainly among the pulps, searching for one that looked familiar. "What's become of Astounding?" he wondered half-aloud. "And Unknown Worlds, and Thrilling Wonder Stories? Good old TWS! Have all the fantasy mags gone out of business?" Western and detective magazines were in evidence, but they were almost crowded out by air-war and love-story publications in some abundance. But no fantasy magazines.... In heart-sick desperation, he questioned the proprietor. "Science-fiction mags?" the aged gentleman repeated in a cracked tenor. "Stories of rocket-ships and robots and stuff like that there? Well, I do recollect there usta be a passel of 'em. They went out durin' the war. Oh, say! We do have one science-fiction magazine yet. I'll find it for yuh." And he brought out a fat, beautiful copy of Amazing! The sight of that magazine momentarily overwhelmed the youth with a wave of nausea, but in the next instant he clutched at it as a drowning man grasps at a straw. This emotional tide ebbed, too, as he left the drugstore. His eyes were not quite dry as he whispered: "Alas, to think that only Amazing lives on, the last and unworthy representative of a proud literature. Truly, fantasy has died, never to be reborn. Poor fantasy. Requiescat in pace." * * * * * * ** * May such a scene never come to pass. May heaven and Leon Henderson allow the fantasy magazines to survive the war. Yes, and may organized American fandom slumber even less heavily than that of England, and be easily resuscitated after the conflict is over. However, if our favorite magazines are forced to suspend publication in the near future, it will be no reason to mumble a hopeless eulogy over fantasy such as our character did in the sketch above.