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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 4, December 1941

Page 30

The Munsey Panorama     SOUTHERN STAR    Page 30

[[underline]]HERMO THE HANDSOME[[end underline]], by Junius B. Smith and J. Ulrich Giesy. Novelette, 17pp, June 29, 1912.
I don't like superman in fiction nor in fact, and this Hermo is super-super. I enjoy it when his literary brother, old Semi Dual, dips into astrology, Esperanto, etc., but coming from Hermo --!
I don't like to read about "soul mates" either. I don't have any race prejudice against them, but I do like them to stay out of my reading matter.
Hermo even practiced a formula for indefinite life. If such a formula is ever found, I hope it will be kept away from all Hermo's descendants [[underline]]and[[end underline]] their friends.

[[underline]]From the Starport. Concluded from page 13

sugar for protection. He is not intimidated, but rounds up his own gang and fights back. Virtue, as always, triumphs! Pretty puny stuff, Heinlein!
Take the frills away from almost any of Heinlein's stories and you'll have hidden in the wings strictly modern plots, made into fantastics merely by berms, times, and tense.
The other extreme -- too much wackiness -- is admirably taken care of by L. Ron Hubbard who can think up the most unrealistic and the most utterly foolish plots of any fantasy writer extant. I don't like the stolid matter-of-fact stuff nor do I like hare-brained frenzied fiction. I'll take the middle road and you can take vanilla or Hein-- or Hubbard. The only story of Hubbard's which I've truly admired was FINAL BLACKOUT, and that was no more a fantasy than ROBINSON CRUSOE. It was a bearcat yarn from start to finish, it was gripping, thought--provoking, wonderfully conceived and written -- but it wasn't a fantasy. I don't think Hubbard intended it as fantasy.
Perhaps you're thinking that I can't make up my own mind, considering the manner in which I cuss out Heinlein's unimaginative writing and cuss out Hubbard's opium parlor conceptions, too. What I'm really complaining about is this: Fact shouldn't masquerade as fantasy, and fantasy shouldn't pretend to be fact. Heinlein takes one scheme and works it to death, and Hubbard takes the other and has the literary heebie-jeebies trying to brew something the reader will swallow.
Something like SLAN, now, is right down my alley. I regard this novel as the best fantasy of the year. The characters, the plot, the situation s-- all were vividly real. Yet the reader was never allowed to forget for a moment that the story was a fantastic one. Spaceships, superscientific gadgets, inhuman humans were utilized. Heinlein uses such props, too. But not in the same manner as Van Vogt. His studied dryness takes away the glamor of impossibility. In SLAN the improbabilities are not minimized by casual reference, but are stressed for effect. Too, SLAN has within it the continuing suspense necessary to maintain interest at a high pitch. The majority of Heinlein's stories build up to a climax or to a particular scene and just bob up and down on a sea of commonplace events beforee and after this point.

But I supposed I'd better sign off here in order to give my readers -- thank you, Proofreader! Thank you, my worthy Mimeographer! -- an opportunity to criticize me for my criticism of Heinlein and Hubbard. Next month I shall be full of praise for everyone, if the SOUTHERN STAR is willing to accept the sterling stuff I hope to write for next month's issue.

[[underline]]THE END[[end underline]]

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The Munsey Panorama SOUTHERN STAR Page 30 [[underline]]HERMO THE HANDSOME[[end underline]], by Junius B. Smith and J. Ulrich Giesy. Novelette, 17pp, June 29, 1912. I don't like superman in fiction nor in fact, and this Hermo is super-super. I enjoy it when his literary brother, old Semi Dual, dips into astrology, Esperanto, etc., but coming from Hermo --! I don't like to read about "soul mates" either. I don't have any race prejudice against them, but I do like them to stay out of my reading matter. Hermo even practiced a formula for indefinite life. If such a formula is ever found, I hope it will be kept away from all Hermo's descendants [[underline]]and[[end underline]] their friends. [[underline]]From the Starport. Concluded from page 13 sugar for protection. He is not intimidated, but rounds up his own gang and fights back. Virtue, as always, triumphs! Pretty puny stuff, Heinlein! Take the frills away from almost any of Heinlein's stories and you'll have hidden in the wings strictly modern plots, made into fantastics merely by berms, times, and tense. The other extreme -- too much wackiness -- is admirably taken care of by L. Ron Hubbard who can think up the most unrealistic and the most utterly foolish plots of any fantasy writer extant. I don't like the stolid matter-of-fact stuff nor do I like hare-brained frenzied fiction. I'll take the middle road and you can take vanilla or Hein-- or Hubbard. The only story of Hubbard's which I've truly admired was FINAL BLACKOUT, and that was no more a fantasy than ROBINSON CRUSOE. It was a bearcat yarn from start to finish, it was gripping, thought--provoking, wonderfully conceived and written -- but it wasn't a fantasy. I don't think Hubbard intended it as fantasy. Perhaps you're thinking that I can't make up my own mind, considering the manner in which I cuss out Heinlein's unimaginative writing and cuss out Hubbard's opium parlor conceptions, too. What I'm really complaining about is this: Fact shouldn't masquerade as fantasy, and fantasy shouldn't pretend to be fact. Heinlein takes one scheme and works it to death, and Hubbard takes the other and has the literary heebie-jeebies trying to brew something the reader will swallow. Something like SLAN, now, is right down my alley. I regard this novel as the best fantasy of the year. The characters, the plot, the situation s-- all were vividly real. Yet the reader was never allowed to forget for a moment that the story was a fantastic one. Spaceships, superscientific gadgets, inhuman humans were utilized. Heinlein uses such props, too. But not in the same manner as Van Vogt. His studied dryness takes away the glamor of impossibility. In SLAN the improbabilities are not minimized by casual reference, but are stressed for effect. Too, SLAN has within it the continuing suspense necessary to maintain interest at a high pitch. The majority of Heinlein's stories build up to a climax or to a particular scene and just bob up and down on a sea of commonplace events beforee and after this point. But I supposed I'd better sign off here in order to give my readers -- thank you, Proofreader! Thank you, my worthy Mimeographer! -- an opportunity to criticize me for my criticism of Heinlein and Hubbard. Next month I shall be full of praise for everyone, if the SOUTHERN STAR is willing to accept the sterling stuff I hope to write for next month's issue. [[underline]]THE END[[end underline]]