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Science Fiction Fan, v. 1, no. 4, October 1936

Page 10

10 THE SCIENCE FICTION FAN

stories of imaginative development of science - should find their way into his magazines. this they did, and Mr. Gernsback classified and named this type of story with a contracted for of its definition. As a result, "Scientifiction" had found a name, and a sturdy patron.
Certain it is that Hugo Gernsback liked these stories, and that readers of his magazines at large enjoyed them, for lo! it was not too many years ere a new magazine sprang into form, motivated by this same publisher and supported by a fortunate number of the World's reading audience. Yes, I call them fortunate - for would not one who had grumbled for many years on heavy crusts and sulphur water call fortunate the worshippers of old who fared upon nectar and ambrosia?
"Amazing Stories" sang the cover of this lusty youngster; "Amazing Stories". Oh! I pray that you do not chide me for a fool! True it is that you have read the pages of Amazing Stories, have scorned and cast aside its moulding carcass. But that is the Amazing Stories of today, who has been long detached from his old glory.
Aye, glorious, though short-lived, was Gernsback's paternity of this magazine. Too soon it strayed from the fold...thence began its downfall - and today, at the first of each second month you hold in your hands the pitiful result of Fate's cold cruelty.
Undaunted, though shaken, Hugo Gernsback cried in strong determination. "I will build me another castle! I shave have another son, and he will rule to greater heights than his brother!"
Thus were born the Wonder Stories magazines, duly christened before the Altar of Good Literature, Science and Air Wonder Stories. But there had come a plague upon the hearts and wallets of the land, and though their ideals were great, it took untold effort for these brothers to subsist, and soon it became necessary for them to forge on under a single banner, until at last they thrust their heads above the wave..
Spreading light throughout the World, beamed "Wonder Stories!" (And this ws in the thirty-first and thirty-second year of the present century). Through thirty moons their century). Through thirty moons there shone this brilliant star, and Hugo Gernsback and his retinue found their reward in what they produced, for it was great. But time changes all, and darkness must ever encroach upon the World's happiness. A sickness set upon Wonder Stories, and he moaned and fought, ever bravely, though futilely, through the years. And now Wonder Stories is dead. Would to god that his soul were in peace. But a thing of evil, a being with a should of carrion reviles that spirit in prostitution to degeneracy - "Thrilling Wonder Stories."
Ah, where is Hugo Gernsback? And where are the loved men of old? Do they yet live, those authors of the Golden Age? Do they dream, misty dreams of that great era, or do they, as I, suffer torment among the filthy ports of this today? I cannot know, perhaps I never shall, and you will not help me. No, youth of today, you realize not your folly! When I weep that "All, all are gone, the old familiar faces..." you laugh, and jeer at the magazine I hold, ever hopefully, in my head. You tell me that science fiction is... what it is today. And

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10 THE SCIENCE FICTION FAN stories of imaginative development of science - should find their way into his magazines. this they did, and Mr. Gernsback classified and named this type of story with a contracted for of its definition. As a result, "Scientifiction" had found a name, and a sturdy patron. Certain it is that Hugo Gernsback liked these stories, and that readers of his magazines at large enjoyed them, for lo! it was not too many years ere a new magazine sprang into form, motivated by this same publisher and supported by a fortunate number of the World's reading audience. Yes, I call them fortunate - for would not one who had grumbled for many years on heavy crusts and sulphur water call fortunate the worshippers of old who fared upon nectar and ambrosia? "Amazing Stories" sang the cover of this lusty youngster; "Amazing Stories". Oh! I pray that you do not chide me for a fool! True it is that you have read the pages of Amazing Stories, have scorned and cast aside its moulding carcass. But that is the Amazing Stories of today, who has been long detached from his old glory. Aye, glorious, though short-lived, was Gernsback's paternity of this magazine. Too soon it strayed from the fold...thence began its downfall - and today, at the first of each second month you hold in your hands the pitiful result of Fate's cold cruelty. Undaunted, though shaken, Hugo Gernsback cried in strong determination. "I will build me another castle! I shave have another son, and he will rule to greater heights than his brother!" Thus were born the Wonder Stories magazines, duly christened before the Altar of Good Literature, Science and Air Wonder Stories. But there had come a plague upon the hearts and wallets of the land, and though their ideals were great, it took untold effort for these brothers to subsist, and soon it became necessary for them to forge on under a single banner, until at last they thrust their heads above the wave.. Spreading light throughout the World, beamed "Wonder Stories!" (And this ws in the thirty-first and thirty-second year of the present century). Through thirty moons their century). Through thirty moons there shone this brilliant star, and Hugo Gernsback and his retinue found their reward in what they produced, for it was great. But time changes all, and darkness must ever encroach upon the World's happiness. A sickness set upon Wonder Stories, and he moaned and fought, ever bravely, though futilely, through the years. And now Wonder Stories is dead. Would to god that his soul were in peace. But a thing of evil, a being with a should of carrion reviles that spirit in prostitution to degeneracy - "Thrilling Wonder Stories." Ah, where is Hugo Gernsback? And where are the loved men of old? Do they yet live, those authors of the Golden Age? Do they dream, misty dreams of that great era, or do they, as I, suffer torment among the filthy ports of this today? I cannot know, perhaps I never shall, and you will not help me. No, youth of today, you realize not your folly! When I weep that "All, all are gone, the old familiar faces..." you laugh, and jeer at the magazine I hold, ever hopefully, in my head. You tell me that science fiction is... what it is today. And