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Fantasy Aspects, issue 2, November 1947
Page 18
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the sky, and the temperature falls in direct proportion, as the shadows of the great plants spread out along the smooth surface of the stream. The Mars rat retreats to an overhang in the bank, a hollow in one of the roots, a den burrowed out of the root-filled soil, any place where two or three may get together, and keep warm. The sun drops behind the smooth horizon, and, almost instantly, tiny fingers of ice form on the surface of the canel. They are swept away, and broken, but, more insistently, they form again, are caught, perhaps, in an eddy, or in the clutch of a trailing fiber. Soon the surface has congealed, though the water ripples on beneath. By morning the ice will be an inch in thickness, and the sun will thaw it out only slowly. The vines retain their internal warmth in thick root stems and heavy trunks, and life processes continue. Synthesis and analysis, energy released by oxidation, life . . . . When the sun is still barely above the horizon many of the bright points that are the stars are seen, and, as soon as its brief twilight is done, the glories of the Martian firmament open out with all their splendor. A million glittering points of light, splashed on the inner surface of a sphere by a celestial painter's brush, are there; dim phobos is rising in the west, Demios is at the zenith. The Milky Way is a mist of silver across the sky. But for whom? The Mars rat is sleeping soundly in his burrow, the plants are not sensible to the grandeur. The old Martians have gone to far ends of the Galaxy long since. Only the tireless mechanism in the station works on, pulling water in, pushing it out again, striving boldly so that life on Mars shall not cease. REPRINTED FROM SPARX #3 H.M. Spelman III 75 Sparks St., Cambridge 38, Mass. free samples upon request. Cont. from Page 12 THE DEVIL TO PAY By HARRY WARNER, JR. From HORIZONS #30 lot of false meanings into the poem, some of which Goethe could not possibly have intended. When Faust and the Devil produce inflation in the kingdom by issuing currence on the treasures which everyone believes is buried in the ground, the whole thing sounds like an inveighing against capitalism; and the little artifical man acts as if he knew all about the evolutionary theory when he decided to dive into the ocean and work up to the body of a man by starting with the simplest os forms. It isn't too easy to decide exactly what Goethe did mean in some places, and it is probable that he meant nothg at all in quite a few spots; and the whole thing is perfect proof that, the latest experiments notwithstanding, it's perfectly possible to write great and very clear poetry without being in the least obvious or superficial. REPRINTED FROM HORIZONS #30 Distributed through FAPA and VAPA by Harry Warner, Jr. of 303 Bryan Pl., Hagerstown, Md. ---- (Page 18) ----
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the sky, and the temperature falls in direct proportion, as the shadows of the great plants spread out along the smooth surface of the stream. The Mars rat retreats to an overhang in the bank, a hollow in one of the roots, a den burrowed out of the root-filled soil, any place where two or three may get together, and keep warm. The sun drops behind the smooth horizon, and, almost instantly, tiny fingers of ice form on the surface of the canel. They are swept away, and broken, but, more insistently, they form again, are caught, perhaps, in an eddy, or in the clutch of a trailing fiber. Soon the surface has congealed, though the water ripples on beneath. By morning the ice will be an inch in thickness, and the sun will thaw it out only slowly. The vines retain their internal warmth in thick root stems and heavy trunks, and life processes continue. Synthesis and analysis, energy released by oxidation, life . . . . When the sun is still barely above the horizon many of the bright points that are the stars are seen, and, as soon as its brief twilight is done, the glories of the Martian firmament open out with all their splendor. A million glittering points of light, splashed on the inner surface of a sphere by a celestial painter's brush, are there; dim phobos is rising in the west, Demios is at the zenith. The Milky Way is a mist of silver across the sky. But for whom? The Mars rat is sleeping soundly in his burrow, the plants are not sensible to the grandeur. The old Martians have gone to far ends of the Galaxy long since. Only the tireless mechanism in the station works on, pulling water in, pushing it out again, striving boldly so that life on Mars shall not cease. REPRINTED FROM SPARX #3 H.M. Spelman III 75 Sparks St., Cambridge 38, Mass. free samples upon request. Cont. from Page 12 THE DEVIL TO PAY By HARRY WARNER, JR. From HORIZONS #30 lot of false meanings into the poem, some of which Goethe could not possibly have intended. When Faust and the Devil produce inflation in the kingdom by issuing currence on the treasures which everyone believes is buried in the ground, the whole thing sounds like an inveighing against capitalism; and the little artifical man acts as if he knew all about the evolutionary theory when he decided to dive into the ocean and work up to the body of a man by starting with the simplest os forms. It isn't too easy to decide exactly what Goethe did mean in some places, and it is probable that he meant nothg at all in quite a few spots; and the whole thing is perfect proof that, the latest experiments notwithstanding, it's perfectly possible to write great and very clear poetry without being in the least obvious or superficial. REPRINTED FROM HORIZONS #30 Distributed through FAPA and VAPA by Harry Warner, Jr. of 303 Bryan Pl., Hagerstown, Md. ---- (Page 18) ----
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