Friday, May 25, 2018

FFM: STREET & SMITH'S DETECTIVE STORY MAGAZINE, September 1946, edited by Daisy Bacon; ELLERY QUEEN'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE, September 1945, edited by Frederic Dannay; NEW WORLD WRITING 16: Tillie Olsen, Thomas Pynchon, Anne Sexton, Kingsley Amis, et alia...edited by Stewart Richardson and Corlies M. Smith





We lost Philip Roth this week, and Laurie Powers has her Daisy Bacon critical biography out for vetting before publication, which seemed to make it a good time for these reviews:

STREET & SMITH'S DETECTIVE STORY MAGAZINE, September 1946 (Volume 172, Number 5). Legendary editor: Daisy Bacon. Monthly. 15c ($1.50/year in US/$1.75 Pan American Union/$2.25 elsewhere; no Canadian subscriptions accepted [because of a Canadian edition?]). 

Ads for Calvert Whiskey, Listerine Antiseptic mouthwash, Pepsi-Cola, Ray-o-Vac batteries, Olin Bond flashlights and batteries, Gillette razor blades, Ballco Vacutex blackhead extractor. 

Digest, 130 pp. Cover photograph by Ardean Miller, III.

from one of my contributions to the FictionMags Index, or FMI:


ELLERY QUEEN'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE, September 1945 (Volume 6, issue number 24). Legendary editor: Frederic Dannay; Mildred Falk, Mng. Ed.; Charlotte Spivak, Ass. Ed. Bimonthly. 25c ($1.50/year US and Pan American Union/$1.75 Canada/$2 elsewhere

Ads for the Detective Book Club and an Inner Sanctum Mystery/Simon & Schuster (LAY THAT PISTOL DOWN by Richard Powell). 

Digest, 128 pp. Cover painting by George Salter.

one of Douglas Greene's FMI contributions: 


While published about a year apart, unlike the last two fiction-magazine issues I've reviewed here [on the discussion list], a few of my beloved parallels obtain, even when in reverse. Aside from both issues being very pleasant reading
experiences overall (and neither being much sought after on the
collectors market--purchase of the DETECTIVE STORY cost me more in
postage than in eBay bid price of $2, the EQMM was a buck in a comics
store; while both are no better than good reading copies, try getting
a merely complete PLANET STORIES for that price), one of the most
striking things about them was how forgotten the DSM writers mostly
are, and how many familiar names (perhaps some more remembered than
read) are in the EQ. The only definitely familiar name to me in the
S&S item is William Campbell Gault, and perhaps unsurprisingly his
"They'd Die for Linda" is the best story in that issue; possibly I'd
heard of Roy Lopez before, whose "You'll Be the Death of Me" is, like
most of the other DETECTIVE stories, what could be called "fake hardboiled": wisecracking 'tecs of various sorts in stories with the trappings of classic BLACK MASK and post-diaspora DIME DETECTIVE fiction, without the bracing sense of hard living or worldly cynicism of Hammett or Chandler. Odder is the issue's 33-page "complete novel," "The Screaming Rock" by John H. Knox (whether a close relation to Calvin M. Knox [Robert Silverberg's most famous pseudonym]
 in spirit, I'm not sure [Jerry House has informed me that Knox was originally a poet, I suspect not a good one, who moved on to shudder-pulp writing and eventually to straightforward crime fiction], which is nothing so much as a weird-menace/shudder pulp story with most of the torture taken out, more wisecracks and politics inserted. The McGuffin is a series of experiments in cryogenics, not so named, that serve as obfuscation for murders at a remote psychiatric clinic, one not too different from the one in FAREWELL, MY LOVELY. William Honest (good old Honest Bill?) offers a reasonably affecting frame for his impossible murder story, "Murder Is Where You Dig It"; Dorothy Dunn's "A Photo Finish" (the cover story) reads like a slightly more wholesome and ultimately upbeat version of a Jim Thompson desperate loser story (before Thompson, at least, was publishing them); "Oswald Has His Night" by Ronald Henderson is an interesting twist on a theme Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine (to say nothing of ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS the tv series) would eventually beat to death; in this case the henpecked husband is framed for a murder he didn't commit by a third party and has to solve the mystery before his wife returns from a visit as well as before being collared by the police; "Blood Red Rubies" by Roland Phillips is imitation THE THIN MAN, but not too shabby an example. What the
magazine reads like, in its mostly noirish feel but not quite
full-fledged hopeless existentialism (or MANHUNT brutality), is AHMM
in its first decades, even down to the mediocre uncredited line-drawing illustrations.

Gault's use of multiple viewpoints/narrators is the major deviation
from basically serious plain tales wisecrackingly told, and his and
perhaps Dunn's are the stories that most deserve to survive this
issue's shelf life, but one common feature here is in fine pulp
tradition: attention-getting, even when cliched, opening lines:

Lopez: "He was a little guy, wearing a checked suit. He was
bald-headed. And he was scared green."

Honest: "You felt like front table at El Morocco when Marie came in.
Nobody expected her to sing, but it wouldn't have been surprising.
Tycoons like Roger Tillman could afford such a wife."

Dunn: "Tommy Murphy tore up his losing ticket after the eighth race
and left the grandstand. His hopes fluttered down to the cold cement
flooring with the pieces of cardboard. And he felt cold and grey
inside, drained of his laughter and his luck."

Knox: "Plain Sid Wilson felt the sickening pause as the wheels of
his coupe lost their grip on the icy slope."

Unlike [fellow Street & Smith fiction magazines] ASTOUNDING or UNKNOWN, but like WILD WESTDETECTIVE STORY here restricts Ms. Bacon's editorial comment to teaser blurbs, and offers couple of examples of rather sentimental doggerel as space-filling
tags (the better one by Edgar Daniel Kramer, the other by L[ight?]. Breeze).

No such restriction applies to Fred Dannay, of course, whose
introductory essays several times threaten to exceed the length of
the stories blurbed. Fully half the contributions to this issue of EQMM
are reprints, and only one of the originals is bylined unfamiliarly
(as far as I can recall): James Yaffe's "The Problem of the
Emperor's Mushrooms," aside from being a short, decent alternate-to-Graves
modern retelling of the intrigues in the Roman court of Claudius, is
piss-poor example of a crime story, albeit with another draft it
could've been a better one; Dannay flagellates himself in the intro
over Yaffe's previous EQMM story, because it never occurred to either
author nor editor that a toy balloon blown up by a person wouldn't
levitate in normal atmosphere, apparently a crucial plot point (the
flaw in the story at hand is more in telegraphing and awkwardness in
dialog, but, as Dannay notes, it was rushed into print to prove Yaffe
not an idiot).

More experienced hands than Yaffe's are tapping in Morse in this
issue. Agatha Christie's "The Case of the Vulture Women" (a reprint
from a 1939 THIS WEEK magazine [wasn't this a PARADE-like newspaper
insert?][yes, it was--the later me]), is a Hercule Poirot puzzle that probably could've been solved in a few minutes cogitation by Dr. Watson or even Mike Hammer; it was certainly pretty obvious to me, albeit AC's digs at the
English's depredations upon other languages ring true with anyone
who's ever heard what too many Britons do to Spanish words. The other puzzle
stories in this issue are less straightforward, if too often too
easily soluble: John Dickson Carr's quasi-impossible crime tale,
"Will You Walk into My Parlor?", is actually a radio script, previously
broadcast as part of the SUSPENSE series; G. K. Chesterton's "Dr.
Hyde, Detective, and The White Pillars Murder" (ENGLISH LIFE, January
1925) is not atypically as much philosophical rumination as puzzle,
and somewhat guessable in its "surprise"; Lillian de la Torre's
original Samuel Johnson/James Boswell historical mystery, "The
Wax-Work Cadaver," gets only slightly bogged in its attempts at
period color. James M. Cain's non-puzzle, "Pastorale" (AMERICAN MERCURY,
1928), is a minor murder tale with a not particularly deft use of
vaudeville "countrified" dialect (but a cheap inhouse reprint from a
name, and certainly hardboiled enough; inadvertantly Tuckerizing
opening lines: "Well, it looks like Burbie was going to get hung.
And if he does, what he can lay it on is, he always figured he was so dam
smart."). Things look up with Ben Hecht's brief parody, "The
Whistling Corpse," an original (intentionally) as turgid as the "had I but
known" (as Dannay calls them) once and future Gothics (as I tag them)
within the cf tradition, and worth a chuckle; far funnier and more
devastating is H. F. Heard's original Mr. Mycroft (as in Holmes
pastiche) tale, "Adventure of Mr. Montalba, Obsequist," which, in
addition to goosing Doyle a bit, prefigures Waugh's THE LOVED ONE in
most of the latter's best dimensions (this one's use of cutting-edge taxidermy/undertaking practices and arguable positing of long-term self-induced suspended animation sparks an argument--fantasy or no?--between Heard and Dannay which is dutifully detailed in an endnote, and makes for a weak parallel with Knox's proto-cryogenics story in DSM). Philip Wylie's
original "Perkins' 'First Case'" is an amiable mix of NYC
slice-of-life and offbeat detection, far less sententious (as I guess
it would have to be) than what SF by him I've tried (WHEN WORLDS
COLLIDE with Balmer and THE DISAPPEARANCE); anyone read his Crunch
and Des stories? Vying with the Heard for second-best in the issue is
Damon Runyon's "What, No Butler?" (from COLLIER'S in 1933 and  the 1944 collection BLUE PLATE SPECIAL),

like most of the DETECTIVE STORY offerings a basically serious story dressed up with humor, this time from the master of present-tense slang. The best story is unsurprisingly Dashiell Hammett's "Two Sharp Knives" (COLLIER'S MAGAZINE, 1942), which more than any of the other stories in either issue (the Gault and the
Runyon come the closest, but it's not that close) gives the sense of life as it is actually lived by adults. And tells a fine, understated story.

(And one wonders if Daisy Bacon and Dannay, both on his own ticket and because he seemed to frequently work with women editors, had for obvious reasons less truck with the misogyny several here have mentioned as impediments to reprinting MANHUNT and at least some BLACK MASK stories....)


FFB (or magazine in book format): NEW WORLD WRITING 16: Tillie Olsen, Thomas Pynchon, Anne Sexton, Kingsley Amis, et alia...edited by Stewart Richardson and Corlies M. Smith (LIppincott Keystone 1960)


New World Writing had been the New American Library's pioneering literary magazine in mass-market paperback book format for fifteen Mentor-imprint (smugly branded "good reading for the millions") volumes beginning in 1951, and then decamped for seven volumes to Lippincott and their somewhat more expensive paperback line, starting with this issue (and its amateurish cover) and folding in 1964.  And while the Mentor editions usually had longer tables of contents than the Lippincott anthologies, this first issue for the new decade has what could be fairly called a rather impressive line-up:

from WorldCat, augmented:
5 * Editor's Note / Richardson & Smith
11 * Tell me a riddle / Tillie Olsen --
58 * Lolita Lepidoptera / Diana Butler --
85 * Low-lands / Thomas Pynchon --
109 * Five poems / Irving Feldman --
115 * Three lonely men / Leslie Garrett (excerpt from The Faces of Hatred and Love...probably that which was published, with serious revision, as The Beasts)
135 * You that love England / Kingsley Amis --
146 * Dancing the jig / Anne Sexton --
154 * Martin the fisherman / John Knowles --
163 * A penny for the ferryman / John F. Gilgun --
188 * A season in paradise / E.N. Sargent --
223 * You have to draw a line somewhere / Judson Jerome --
231 * The law and Lady Chatterly / Harriet F. Pilpel and Nancy F. Wechsler --
241 * The credence table / Jack Richardson --
278 * Two poems / Jack Marshall --
282 * The listener / John Berry


...which thus includes, in their first publication, Olsen's most famous work of fiction, Butler's first published essay (a well-made case that Nabokov's most famous work of fiction is quite intentionally as much about his passion for butterflies as it is a study of pedophilia or a travelogue of the US), Pynchon's second published short story, Sexton's first published short story, and so on through Berry's brief recounting of a charming anecdote remade into not quite a fable.

I've not yet had the opportunity to read most of the second half of this issue yet, though am amused to see, for example, that John Knowles (best remembered for the novel A Separate Peace) was an editor at Holiday magazine, and wonder how well he got on with staff writer Alfred Bester (they might've even dated, for what little I know, if one dated per se in those still unfriendly times). The Olsen was a remarkable and for me rather painful read (as it's about a married couple, parents of adult children, facing their last years with little hope for happiness for either, and the protagonist being a woman who had never managed to live the life she had expected to, after early political adventure and imprisonment, only to find herself limited to a life in service to a husband she's not completely bitterly estranged from, though habituated to, and children she could never find complete fulfillment in raising nor feel comfortable actually interacting with as adults)(this is rather close to my own family situation in several ways at the moment)...it's told also in a rather discursive and personalized style that has not been too widely imitated since, distinctive even in comparison to those other writers who've taken a similar tack with the form of their narrative.

The Pynchon is very funny, and if rather indicative of a young man's attempt to take in the estate of a middle-aged married couple, is still energetic and charming in a way that, say, John Kennedy Toole's rather contemporaneous A Confederacy of Dunces is usually credited with...this is how to do antic for adults correctly...Pynchon's affinity with another, somewhat older contemporary, R. A. Lafferty, becomes somewhat clearer than I've recalled previously, and there's yet another reason to be sorry it took Lafferty till middle-age to begin writing for the likes of New Mexico Quarterly and Science Fiction(the magazine of that title, also an important early market for the likes of Carol Emshwiller and peripherally for Edward Hoch)...

The Sexton is unsurprisingly almost a prose-poem, and Poetry magazine or American Poetry Review today might be willing to publish it as a poem in prose format...the unnamed protagonist is dancing at an otherwise dull dinner party, and a chair catches her eye, manages to remind her of her tense childhood and particularly of one dinner among many with a controlling mother and a distant, alcoholic father. (As Philip Larkin noted at about this time, "They fuck you up, your mum and dad./They may not mean to, but they do...."--and Sexton herself not the least offensive thus...and this kind of thing can run in families...)

And in the course of calling Brit expatriate writers (and presumably other artists) back home to fight the Gray Tories and other similar things, Kingsley Amis notes that he finds the totality of Evelyn Waugh's The Loved One false, even if every detail is true.  Well, it won't be the last time Amis is wrong, if he is.

Related posts:
FFB: THE AVON BOOK OF MODERN WRITING (1953) and No. 2 (1954) ed. William Phillips & Philip Rahv, among other "paperback magazines"/periodical books


for more of today's books and more, please see Patti Abbott's blog.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Newsstand, somewhere in or around Detroit, ca. December 1964

What first caught my eye about this photo, as posted in the Facebook paperback/pulp/related discussion forum some weeks back, were the Winter 1965 issues of the digest-sized fiction magazines...as I noted there, aside from CORONET (an inoffensively bland general-interest magazine, as I recall it in the 1970s), these digests were all major sources of joy and influence for me at some point in my life, and the surviving magazines, THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION and ALFRED HITCHCOCK'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE, remain so (a few issues I had of CHILDREN'S DIGEST and its younger-skewing companion HUMPTY DUMPTY when I was about four or five probably predisposed me permanently toward digest-sized fiction magazines).

My guess is that with the open display of Midwood porn novels of the mid '60s amid Mickey Spillane and Ian Fleming paperbacks, and Macfadden-Bartell low-budget items mixed in, and the fact that the Men's Sweat magazines are getting more prominent placement, packed on the upper magazine rack while THE SATURDAY EVENING POST and SEVENTEEN issues are on the lower rack (along with a German "film revue" magazine, not altogether unlikely to have been of the Kind Men Like...or at least to have some photos that wouldn't appear in a US film magazine of the era), that this newsstand was in a tobacco shop or a truck stop in or around Detroit; the slide's purchaser/Facebook poster Kevin Brubaker thought it was shot in February 1965, but it was probably taken, as The Saturday Evening Post on the stand is the 12 December issue, in the first week of December 1964 (see last photo below).





































All the 1964 issues...December at bottom right...
Well...so much for inoffensive, as late as 1964, when Negro was beginning to
 give way to Black as the value-neutral/non-pejorative term for African-Americans...














































Oddly enough, I call Margolin Early Media Crush of Mine (she's not the cover model...
who also has a coterie following still...)










































































Turns out this, the 12 December 1964 issue, of SEP was the issue on sale here...
so, probably, the photo was taken in the first week of December...









































This issue of SEP's contents: 
...almost a pity it wasn't the next issue, which featured a short story by Gina Berriault, previously blogged about here...then again, J. B. Priestley has gotten some attention here...

Friday, May 18, 2018

FFM: FANTASTIC STORIES, August 1976, edited by Ted White; THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION, August and September 1976, edited by Edward Ferman

Where were you in the summer of 1976? In June, my family and I were moving from Connecticut to New Hampshire; I was reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I was definitely on a Mark Twain jag, reading the Tom/Huck/Jim fictions in order of publication, so there's a good chance I read Tom Sawyer Abroad and "Tom Sawyer, Detective" in late June or July. I turned twelve in August. I had read stories by Avram Davidson and Algis Budrys, the headlining writers in the issues under discussion, in Robert Arthur's Alfred Hitchcock Presents: anthologies by then, but they hadn't yet become among the most important writers whose work I would read, at very least to me. I had read some back issues of Analog, Vertex Science Fiction and Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, but had not yet sought out new issues. I had all but given up on standard comic books--maybe an issue of Weird War Tales or two, more nostalgically than otherwise, purchased that year; most of my newsstand investment was in Mad and one or two issues of National Lampoon, while mostly reading paperbacks and the odd library hardcover or discard/booksale/secondhand item in boards, aside from what my parents brought home...

Meanwhile, on small budgets, working out of their houses, Ed Ferman in Cornwall, in exurban northwestern Connecticut, and Ted White in the DC suburb Falls Church, Virginia, had both produced impressive issues which were sitting on some newsstands around the world.


  • Publication: Fantastic, August 1976
    (View All Issues) (View Issue Grid)
  • Editors: Ted White
  • Year: 1976-08-00
  • Publisher: Ultimate Publishing Co., Inc.
  • Price: $1.00
  • Pages: 134
  • Binding: digest
  • Type: MAGAZINE
  • Title Reference: Fantastic - 1976
  • CoverStephen Fabian; column headers: J. Michael Nally
  • Notes: Vol 25, No 4. Page count includes advertising insert for Max cigarettes. Page 66 precedes the ad and page 69 follows it. "Steven Utley" on toc but "Steve Utley" on title page.
    [--and, actually, both August issues had the same stiffened full-color ad for Max cigarets on one side, True cigarets on the other; other ads in the Fantastic include a back cover ad for four tabletop historical war games from Conflict Games, and interior ads for Alternate Worlds Records (at that point with only four fantastic-fiction spoken-word LPs available: one each of Fritz Leiber, Robert Bloch, and Harlan Ellison reading their own fiction, and Ugo Toppo reading Robert E. Howard) and house ads for back and future issues; the F&SF issues include back cover ads for Harlequin's short-lived sf-adventure Laser Books line (September) and F&SF t-shirts (August); along with the interior house ads, there are display ads for the Science Fiction Book Club (one page in each issue), a full-page ad for TSR's Dungeons and Dragons game sets and a quarter-page ad for Brian Aldiss and Harry Harrison's Hell's Cartographers. Both magazines also have regular back pages of classified ads. TM]
In the Fantastic, we have the first of Davidson's Jack Limekiller stories to be published, a series fondly remembered by those fortunate enough to have read the stories as they appeared, mostly in F&SF (the frequency with which writers published in both magazines was high), and as collected in the small press volume ¡Limekiller! (exclamation points probably unfortunate). Limekiller lives in British Hidalgo, which somewhat resembles the British Honduras then, and Belize now, where Avram Davidson and Grania Davis and their son Ethan lived for a period, after moving from Mexico (and thanks to Dennis Lien for pointing out in comments below that I had relocated them to Guyana, for reasons only of Middle-Aged Moment). British Hidalgo does seem to have rather more indisputable supernatural occurrences in it, however...one could choose to use the term magical realism to describe these stories, if that wasn't just a cop-out label for well-grounded fantasy fiction set in the otherwise "real world" ...Grania Davis has a story in the issue as well; she, who died in that sudden run of losses of some of the best women writers in fantastic fiction last year, had long since divorced Davidson, but they had remained friends, and even occasional collaborators on fiction, up to co-authoring Davidson's last novel published during his lifetime (and serving as the co-editor of his posthumous collections and longer fiction publications). "Dennis More" (sic)/Keith Taylor might've had a broader following than he has, had he published more novels in the '70s and '80s...perhaps being Australian didn't help, at least in terms of promotion; more recently, chronic illness has been keeping him from work. Steven Utley was another example of a writer who probably should have reached a larger audience than he did, with consistently good and occasionally brilliant fiction much-appreciated by cognoscenti, but not terribly widely-read beyond the more literate Members of the Community...even such peers as George Alec Effinger seem to have reached a slightly larger readership, even if in the latter's case too much of it after his early death.

Lin Carter's usually dire attempts at "posthumous collaboration" with Robert Howard on Conan stories (which at least had the effect of boosting Fantastic's sales) are not notably improved upon by his attempt at doing so with a Clark Ashton Smith fragment...particularly given how much more elegantly Decadent Smith's prose was, elegance not Carter's strong suit. I always enjoyed Richard Lupoff's intentionally parodic pastiches published as by Ova Hamlet, in distinction, even when I hadn't yet read the targets (in this case, the Doc Savage series of stories). L. Sprague de Camp, Carter's senior collaborator on new and "posthumous" Conan stories, had a bit of renaissance of his own short-fiction writing in the mid '70s, not least with the amiable Willy Newbury fantasies in both magazines here and in other issues. 

And the book reviews of Fritz Leiber, Algis Budrys and Barry Malzberg, among the other rotating set of reviewers (wit a few exceptions) in F&SF, were particularly key reading for me in the years when I was gathering these as back issues...Lupoff would also pop up with book reviews in White's Fantastic, Davidson in Ferman's F&SF along with Joanna Russ, and not a few others of note (Judith Merril was the first book columnist during Ferman's editorship, then James Blish was the primary book reviewer until he couldn't continue, and Budrys took on the bulk of the reviewing for a decade-plus). I tended to enjoy Pacifica Radio dramatist and bookstore owner Baird Searles's multimedia reviews as well, as I've mentioned elsewhere on the blog, and Isaac Asimov's science essays, even if Searles (the most consistently-contributing a/v reviewer to date in the magazine's history) has had such predecessors and successors as Charles Beaumont, "William Morrison", Samuel Delany, Harlan Ellison, Kathi Maio, Lucius Shepard and David Skal to shine as brightly as he did or even a bit more so. 


These issues feature the novel Michaelmas, perhaps a bit shorter than the text of the not terribly fat novel as published in hardcover and paperback by Berkley/Putnam, the first edition later in 1977. It was Budrys's first novel in a decade, though he had already published a novella about Laurent Michaelmas, and would publish another afterward (and had hoped to publish yet another). Also, Budrys was perhaps dreaming big for this novel, somewhat jocularly referring to the potential interview with Johnny Carson (who in the mid-'70s would still tuck interviews with the occasional writer into the last half hour of his 90-minute Tonight Show). Not sure how much juice Berkley put behind the book (not so very much, as far as I know), but it wasn't a breakout for Budrys beyond his pre-existing audience, even if it did well for him (without the kind of revised awkward title Fawcett Gold Medal had blessed his previous two novels with). 

F&SF throughout its run has often featured work by writers who would drop in to fantastic fiction only occasionally, whether this was true of their writing generally or simply in the fantastic-fiction field. Richard Frede, best known for his 1960 novel The Interns, was one of the busy writers who only on occasion would contribute a speculative fiction, while such others as Liz Hufford, Don Trotter, and musician and songwriter Tom Rapp were examples of the relatively non-prolific (at least in terms of prose or non-lyrics poetry). On the other end of the spectrum, within fantastic fiction and without, Jane Yolen, Curt Siodmak (even given his best-remembered work is in film), Herbie Brennan (at least as well-known now for his books about spiritualism and his work in role-playing games), and three relative non-favorites of mine, Michael Coney (tended toward goofy concepts), Raylyn Moore (tended toward relatively trite fantasies flavored heavily with hostility to feminism; the Phyllis Schlafly of fantastic fiction), and Robert F. Young (who tended toward trite ideas handled only mildly less heavy-handedly than Lin Carter, and with even less wit...at least Carter's more lighthearted pastiches, such as his quasi-Doc Savage fiction, had a certain bounce). Barry Malzberg, occasional book-reviewer and more-common fiction-contributor (and later honoree with an F&SF special issue) as well as Ted White's predecessor as editor of Fantastic, and regular fiction and occasional nonfiction contributor there, was also notably engaged as Edward Ferman's co-editor on some impressive anthologies in the 1970s; he likes Davidson's The Enquiries of Doctor Eszterhazy far less than I do. But, given everything, he's allowed to be incorrect in this. 

And the latter F&SF issue features one of David Hardy's cover paintings involving the adventures of Bhen, the BEM (or Bug-Eyed Monster), an occasional series starting in the 1970s, and often, not exclusively, involving Bhen hanging around NASA probes. (Primarily writer) Greg Bear and Stephen Fabian do notably good work on their covers, above, as well. 

Where were you in the summer of 1976, I'll ask again?

Please see Patti Abbott's blog for today's books (and possibly other magazine issues)...



I like the cover of this Spanish edition of Michaelmas better than the Anglophone editons' covers...such as the Berkley paperback, with the same cover painting as the hardcover first edition, with blurbs pasted over, below:



The Limekiller collection...another uninspired cover, alas: