DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Spaceways, v. 4, issue 6, whole no. 29, 1942

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Spaceways, v. 4, issue 6, whole no. 29, 1942

Page 9

What THEY ARE About
by
J. Michael Rosenblum
<underscore>If---It Had Happened;</underscore> otherwise Lapses into Imaginary History. Edited by J. C. Squire; p. Longmans Green & Co., 1932. 5/--. Just a word first: this book was apparently also published in USA, so it is worth watching for. Consists of eleven episodes of what might have been history, every one a gem in itself and worthy of a separate review. Written by Winston Churchill; Emil Ludwig; Andre Maurois; G. K. Chesterton; Harold Nicholson; Ronald Knox; H.A.L. Fisher; J.C. Squire; Hillaire Bellow; Philip Guedalla; and Milton Waldman; is there any need to say anything about the literary quality? It suffices to mention that every word is enjoyable; from the <underscore>Times</underscore> of June, 1930, which Ronald Lane would have us believe would have been produced had the General Strike in 1926 been successful—with  constitutional Communist government in power in Britain–to Guedalla's "Modern Europe" telling of the independent Moorish kingdom of Granada, and its effect on European history, surprising indeed at first glance but logical nonetheless. Churchill's idea of what might have been a fact if Lee had won the Battle of Gettysburg is another wonderful imaginative exercise, surmising two independent American unions, which  unite with the British Empire in 1905 to form the "English-Speaking Association" and save Europe from internecine warfare in 1914, leading to a Pan-European Federation in 1932. But that glimpse is as much as space permits. Thoroughly recommended to any and everybody.
<underscore>Dian of the Lost Land,</underscore> by Edison Marshall; p. Hodder & Stoughton, 1935. Primarily an action story. A slightly sinister Slav savant just about kidnaps a genuine Scandinavian doctor and takes him off on an expedition to the Antarctic. There they discover the remnants of the Cro-Magnon race living in a fragment of the world of their own, complete with mammoths and similar fauna; and even, as we discover, fighting their continuous battle with Neanderthal man. And of course the usual sort of love interest must be brought in. A young priestess rules them and because they revere physical fitness our Teuton is highly popular while the swarthy Slav is relegated to the company of "those who cannot mate" because of their physical disabilities. Thoroughly enjoyable, fantastic adventures well written. Yet nothing to reflect on, no brain-food needing mental digestion, which means that somehow or another it doesn't quite click.

IF I WEREWOLF
(concluded from page 67)
   Michel arose, clicked his heels, and nodded. "The stone?" he asked.
   The wildcat pranced forward and dropped the black stone in the middle of the floor. "Are you going to join us?" Superman asked, drying his eyes. Michel smiled. "Yes." He stooped, picked up the stone, and held it in his hand. "Chugurum," Morojo said. "Tsk, tsk," eeked the chimpanzee. Michel cleared his throat, grasped the stone and stared into it. He spoke: "I want to be a Martian squigglepoof."
   "Tsk, tsk," commented the chimpanzee. The aard-vark almost shrieked as Michel dropped the Cwael Darth like a hot potato. The stone bounced on the floor and came to a stop. A black cloud slowly rose from it, reaching almost to the ceiling. A Form leered from the smoke.
   "Just what," it rasped, "in the merry hell is a Martian squigglepoof?"
(To Be Continued.)

Saving...

What THEY ARE About by J. Michael Rosenblum If---It Had Happened; otherwise Lapses into Imaginary History. Edited by J. C. Squire; p. Longmans Green & Co., 1932. 5/--. Just a word first: this book was apparently also published in USA, so it is worth watching for. Consists of eleven episodes of what might have been history, every one a gem in itself and worthy of a separate review. Written by Winston Churchill; Emil Ludwig; Andre Maurois; G. K. Chesterton; Harold Nicholson; Ronald Knox; H.A.L. Fisher; J.C. Squire; Hillaire Bellow; Philip Guedalla; and Milton Waldman; is there any need to say anything about the literary quality? It suffices to mention that every word is enjoyable; from the Times of June, 1930, which Ronald Lane would have us believe would have been produced had the General Strike in 1926 been successful—with constitutional Communist government in power in Britain–to Guedalla's "Modern Europe" telling of the independent Moorish kingdom of Granada, and its effect on European history, surprising indeed at first glance but logical nonetheless. Churchill's idea of what might have been a fact if Lee had won the Battle of Gettysburg is another wonderful imaginative exercise, surmising two independent American unions, which unite with the British Empire in 1905 to form the "English-Speaking Association" and save Europe from internecine warfare in 1914, leading to a Pan-European Federation in 1932. But that glimpse is as much as space permits. Thoroughly recommended to any and everybody. Dian of the Lost Land, by Edison Marshall; p. Hodder & Stoughton, 1935. Primarily an action story. A slightly sinister Slav savant just about kidnaps a genuine Scandinavian doctor and takes him off on an expedition to the Antarctic. There they discover the remnants of the Cro-Magnon race living in a fragment of the world of their own, complete with mammoths and similar fauna; and even, as we discover, fighting their continuous battle with Neanderthal man. And of course the usual sort of love interest must be brought in. A young priestess rules them and because they revere physical fitness our Teuton is highly popular while the swarthy Slav is relegated to the company of "those who cannot mate" because of their physical disabilities. Thoroughly enjoyable, fantastic adventures well written. Yet nothing to reflect on, no brain-food needing mental digestion, which means that somehow or another it doesn't quite click. IF I WEREWOLF (concluded from page 67) Michel arose, clicked his heels, and nodded. "The stone?" he asked. The wildcat pranced forward and dropped the black stone in the middle of the floor. "Are you going to join us?" Superman asked, drying his eyes. Michel smiled. "Yes." He stooped, picked up the stone, and held it in his hand. "Chugurum," Morojo said. "Tsk, tsk," eeked the chimpanzee. Michel cleared his throat, grasped the stone and stared into it. He spoke: "I want to be a Martian squigglepoof." "Tsk, tsk," commented the chimpanzee. The aard-vark almost shrieked as Michel dropped the Cwael Darth like a hot potato. The stone bounced on the floor and came to a stop. A black cloud slowly rose from it, reaching almost to the ceiling. A Form leered from the smoke. "Just what," it rasped, "in the merry hell is a Martian squigglepoof?" (To Be Continued.)