The Fantasy Fan February 1934

by Various

  Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  THE FANTASY FAN

  THE FANS' OWN MAGAZINE

  Editor: Charles D. Hornig(Managing Editor: Wonder Stories)

  Published 10 cents a copyMonthly $1.00 per year

  137 West Grand Street, Elizabeth, New Jersey

  Volume 1 February, 1934 Number 6

  OUR READERS SAY

  "I missed Bob Tucker's column in the December issue. Better luck nextmonth. By the way, who wrote the last piece of poetry in thatissue?"--Kenneth B. Pritchard

  The editor wishes to confess that he is guilty for everything thatappears in TFF unsigned. We are forced to tell you this, so that youwon't blame it on someone else.

  "After reading the fourth issue of TFF, I feel compelled to take timeout to let you know my reactions. It seems to me that in this littlemagazine, you have succeeded, by your choice and arrangement ofmaterial, in creating the illusion of an intensely human, keenlyinterested gathering of real people. I actually got something of thisimpression from perusing its pages--the imaginary sensation of sittingin on such a group--and it is this which prompts me to a note ofappreciation. You have been able to offer a welcome medium ofexpression and interchange of ideas to us devotees of the fantastic infiction and the success of TFF should be assured if you can maintainthis standard of Interest."--Richard F. Searight

  This letter is satisfactory proof to us that our efforts are not beingentirely wasted. It is our purpose to live up to slogan, "the fans'own magazine" and make it as personal and interesting as possible.

  "Lovecraft's tales certainly hit the spot. R. H. Barlow's 'Annals ofthe Jinns' are great and show a seriousness and depth of that which isnot expressed easily in writing. When his series is completed, try toget more of his tales. I am glad to see Derleth in our pages, and thisWooley person certainly did a very nice job with her story.

  "I don't believe the January issue of the magazine was up to standard.Too much space was devoted to the Boiling Point and the readers'columns. I still insist that the installments of Lovecraft's articleare too short."--H. Koenig

  We are cutting out the Boiling Point entirely and intend to cut downon the readers' column.

  "Smith's 'The Ghoul' is better than 'The Kingdom of the Worm' andshould devour the latter in replete satisfaction. I hope to seeanother fantasy by Lovecraft soon."--Robert Nelson

  You will notice one of Lovecraft's stories in this issue. We haveseveral more of his on hand for future publication.

  "The various articles in the January issue were very interesting withthe exception of 'The Boiling Point' which is becoming monotonous. Onthe whole, however, you are doing a fine job, and I hope it will notbe necessary for you to cut down the size of the magazine or publishless often."--Philip Bridges

  "I liked Derleth's little tale in the December number, and I second H.Koenig's criticism that the installments of 'Supernatural Horror inLiterature' are too short."--Clark Ashton Smith

  Forrest J. Ackerman reminds us of two typographical errors in TFF thatchanged the entire meaning of a couple of statements. In the December"Boiling Point" it was stated that he solicits people to like him,when it should have stated that he does _not_ solicit people to likehim. In his collection article, it was claimed that he had theoriginal manuscript of Flagg's "Lancer in the Crystal" instead of"Dancer," which made quite a pun out of it.

  "'Birkett's Twelfth Corpse' was indeed a gem in spite of itsshortness. Perhaps August W. Derleth would write some poetry for you.I saw one of his in the 'Driftwood.' R. H. Barlow seems to get betterall the time. Let's have more of the 'Annals of the Jinns'."--Duane W.Rimel

  "I think the FF is fine. It only needs time to grow larger, which itwill do as soon as more people find out about it. Don't have acontents page--save that extra room for the fans. Thank you for theprivilege of being one of your contributors."--Natalie H. Wooley

  Thank _you_ for contributing to THE FANTASY FAN.

  "The January issue of TFF was very good indeed! I believe that theissues have improved greatly since the first one was published, quitesome time ago, too. Mr. Smith is one of your finest, if not yourfinest, author. Mr. Ackerman's articles I find very interesting.'Supernatural Horror in Literature' by H. P. Lovecraft is an excellentarticle. Mr. Lovecraft has succeeded in condensing the ancient horrorand weirdness into a great article. I admire very much the finewriting of Mr. Lovecraft."--Fred John Walsen

  Write your opinions and suggestions into "Our Readers Say," fans--wewant to run the magazine the way you like it best. As a specialfeature in next month's issue, we are presenting a full-page originalillustration by Morey.

  MY FAVORITE FANTASY STORY

  by Julius Schwartz

  It's really impossible to name one's favorite fantasy story withouttaking into account not only the merit of the story but also the moodof the reader at the time he read it. I, therefore, have no _one_favorite story, but rather a list of stories that I liked immensely atthe time I read them; they gripped, fascinated, and held me. They arethose stories that can be read and reread dozens of times withoutfinding a lack of interest in them. Four of these stories are, "TheBlind Spot," by Hall and Flint; "The Man Who Evolved," by Hamilton;"The Second Deluge" by Serviss; and "Short Wave Castle" by CalvinPeregov. These four tales may not be the best I've read, but they'recertainly way up near the top the list. [Let us know what you consideryour favorite fantasy story.]

  Polaris

  by H. P. Lovecraft

  Into the north window of my chamber glows the Pole Star with uncannylight. All through the long hellish hours of blackness it shinesthere. And in the autumn of the year, when the winds from the northcurse and whine, and the red-leaved trees of the swamp mutter thingsto one another in the small hours of the morning under the hornedwaning moon, I sit by the casement and watch that star. Down from theheights reels the glittering Cassiopeia as the hours wear on, whileCharles' Wain lumbers up from behind the vapour-soaked swamp treesthat sway in the night wind. Just before dawn Arcturus winks ruddilyfrom above the cemetery on the low hillock, and Coma Berenicesshimmers weirdly afar off in the mysterious east; but still the PoleStar leers down from the same place in the black vault, winkinghideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey somestrange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a messageto convey. Sometimes, when it is cloudy, I can sleep.

  Well do I remember the night of the great Aurora, when over the swampplayed the shocking coruscation's of the daemon light. After the beamcame clouds, and then I slept.

  And it was under a horned waning moon that I saw the city for thefirst time. Still and somnolent did it lie, on a strange plateau in ahollow betwixt strange peaks. Of ghastly marble were its walls and itstowers, its columns, domes, and pavements. In the marble street, weremarble pillars, the upper parts of which were carven into the imagesof grave bearded men. The air was warm and stirred not. And overhead,scarce ten degrees from the zenith, glowed that watching Pole Star.Long did I gaze on the city, but the day came not. When the redAldebaran, which blinked low in the sky but never set, had crawled aquarter of the way around the horizon, I saw light and motion in thehouses and the streets. Forms strangely robed, but at once noble andfamiliar, walked abroad and under the horned waning moon men talkedwisdom in a tongue which I understood, though it was unlike anylanguage I had ever known. And when the red Aldebaran had crawled morethan halfway around the horizon, there were again darkness andsilence.

  When I awaked, I was not as I had been. Upon my memory was graven thevision of the city, and within my soul had arisen another and vaguerrecollection, of whose nature I was not then certain.
Thereafter, onthe cloudy nights when I could sleep, I saw the city often; sometimesunder that horned waning moon, and sometimes under the hot yellow raysof a sun which did not set, but which wheeled low around the horizon.And on the clear nights the Pole Star leered as never before.

  Gradually I came to wonder what might be my place in that city on thestrange plateau betwixt strange peaks. At first content to view thescene as an all-observant uncorporeal presence, I now desired todefine my relation to it, and to speak my mind amongst the grave menwho conversed each day in the public squares. I said to myself, "Thisis no dream, for by what means can I prove the greater reality of thatother life in the house of stone and brick south of the sinister swampand the cemetery on the low hillock, where the Pole Star peeps into mynorth window each night?"

  One night as I listened to the discourse in the large squarecontaining many statues I felt a change; and perceived that I had atlast a bodily form. Nor was a stranger in the streets of Olathoe,which lies on the plateau of Sarkis, betwixt the peaks Noton andKadiphonek. It was my friend Alos who spoke, and his speech was onethat pleased my soul, for it was the speech of a true man and patriot.That night had the news come of Daikos' fall, and of the advance ofthe Inutos; squat, hellish yellow fiends who five years ago hadappeared out of the unknown west to ravage the confines of our kingdomand finally to besiege our towns. Having taken the fortified places atthe foot of the mountains, their way now lay open to the plateau,unless every citizen could resist with the strength of ten men. Forthe squat creatures were mighty in the arts of war, and knew not thescruples of honour which hold back our tall, grey-eyed men of Lomarfrom ruthless conquest.

  Alos, my friend, was commander of all the forces on the plateau, andin him lay the last hope of our country. On this occasion he spoke ofthe perils to be faced and exhorted the men of Olathoe, bravest of theLomarians, to sustain the traditions of their ancestors, who whenforced to move southward from Zobna before the advance of the greatice sheet, (even as our descendants must some day flee from the landof Lomar) valiantly and victoriously swept aside the hairy,long-armed, cannibal Gnophkehs that stood in their way. To me Alosdenied a warrior's part, for I was feeble and given to strangefaintings when subjected to stress and hardships. But my eyes were thekeenest in the city, despite the long hours I gave each day to thestudy of the Pnakotic manuscripts and the wisdom of the ZobnarianFathers; so my friend, desiring not to doom me to inaction, rewardedme with that duty which was second to nothing in importance. To thewatchtower of Thapnen he sent me, there to serve as the eyes of ourarmy. Should the Inutos attempt to gain the citadel by the narrow passbehind the peak Noton and thereby surprise the garrison, I was to givethe signal of fire which would warn the waiting soldiers, and, savethe town from immediate disaster.

  Alone I mounted the tower, for every man of stout body was needed inthe passes below. My brain was sore dazed with excitement and fatigue,for I had not slept in many days; yet was my purpose firm, for I lovedmy native land of Lomar, and the marble city Olathoe that lies betwixtthe peaks of Noton and Kadiphonek.

  But as I stood in the tower's topmost chamber, I beheld the hornedwaning moon, red and sinister, quivering through the vapours thathovered over the distant valley of Banof. And through an opening inthe roof glittered the pale Pole Star, fluttering as if alive, andleering like a fiend and tempter. Methought its spirit whispered evilcounsel, soothing me to traitorous somnolence with a damnablerhythmical promise which it repeated over and over:

  "Slumber, watcher, till the spheres, Six and twenty thousand years Have revolv'd, and I return To the spot where now I burn. Other stars anon shall rise To the axis of the skies; Stars that soothe and stars that bless With a sweet forgetfulness: Only when my round is o'er Shall the past disturb thy door."

  Vainly did I struggle with my drowsiness, seeking to connect thesestrange words with some lore of the skies which I had learnt from thePnakotic manuscripts. My head, heavy and reeling, drooped to mybreast, and when next I looked up it was in a dream; with the PoleStar grinning at me through a window from over the horrible swayingtrees of a dream-swamp. And I am still dreaming.

  In my shame and despair I sometimes scream frantically, begging thedream-creatures around me to waken me ere the Inutos steal up the passbehind the peak Noton and take the citadel by surprise; but thesecreatures are daemons, for they laugh at me and tell me I am notdreaming. They mock me whilst I sleep, and whilst the squat yellow foemay be creeping silently upon us. I have failed in my duty andbetrayed the marble city of Olathoe; I have proven false to Alos, myfriend and commander. But still these shadows of my dreams deride me.They say there is no land of Lomar, save in my nocturnal imaginings;that in those realms where the Pole Star shines high, and redAldebaran crawls low around the horizon, there has been naught saveice and snow for thousands of years, and never a man save squat,yellow creatures, blighted by the cold, whom they call "Esquimaux."

  And as I writhe in my guilty agony, frantic to save the city whoseperil every moment grows, and vainly striving to shake off thisunnatural dream of a house of stone and brick south of a sinisterswamp and a cemetery on a low hillock; the Pole Star, evil andmonstrous, leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like aninsane watching eye which strives to convey some message, yet recallsnothing save that it once had a message to convey.

  * * * * *

  Watch for another story by H. P. Lovecraft in an early issue.

  FACTS AND PROPHECY

  W. A. Conrad, assistant professor in mathematics at the United StatesNaval Academy, says that a trip to the moon in a rocket is possible.According to him, it would cost as much as two battleships--$100,000,000,but it would be worth it. The biggest obstacle to overcome would bethe fuel problem, he declares. It would take a huge amount of oxygento make the trip. Other problems would be dodging meteors andovercoming the falling-in-an-elevator feeling. He likens the benefitsderived from such a voyage, to those derived from Columbus' tripacross the Atlantic.

  During the National Inventor's Congress in Cleveland, September 5 to9, Arthur Shenderlein, of Oakland, California, exhibited a motor whichhe claims will carry passengers to Mars, or any other planet in recordtime. He declared his motor will go 100,000 miles without gasoline.

  HOWLS FROM THE ETHER

  by The Spacehound

  Some copies of the August, 1929, _Amazing Stories_ contained "Out ofthe Void" printed twice and "The Grim Inheritance" omitted. Thishappens every so often in the binding of magazines, when one of theseveral sections is left out and two of another inserted. In the abovecase, this means that several issues of the magazine contained no "Outof the Void," and two copies of "The Grim Inheritance".... Voltaire's"Micromegas" is an excellent interplanetary story concerning aSirian's visit to Saturn and Earth.... In the days of "ScienceFiction" (the pamphlet mimeographed in Cleveland), Hugh Langley wasthe pseudonym for the joint efforts of Jerome Siegel and BernardKenton.... P. S. Miller mentions working on his "Arrhenius Horror" inan early 1930 mag.... "Desolation's War", an excellent science fictiontale was in _Top-Notch_ a short while ago. They present stories ofthis type at odd intervals.... Roy Rockwood's "Great Miracle" serieshave been reissued.... An English newspaper runs science fictionregularly. Roy's "Prince of Atlantis," while a stf classic is also asubtle treatise on sociology.... _Radio Guild_ carried an illustratedfeature on Buck Rogers.... The December 1932 Happy Hours Magazinecarried an editorial on "Science Fiction in the Dime Novels," by RalphP. Smith.... O. O. Mclntyre and Philip Wylie are good friends.... Inregards to the question in the August 1932 Time Traveller, "The NthMan," by Homer Eon Flint, was written especially for the AmazingQuarterly.... The Doc Savage magazine is running a number of goodadventure fantasies. Recent issues have had "The Land of Terror," anda tale of adventure at the North Pole among several others, includingone about super-gangs attempting to conquer a nation.... And keep aneye on _Thrilling Adventure_ and the new companion mag to NickelDetective.... Austin Hall
had a humorous western in a recent_Argosy_.... You cover fans keep an eye on the fine work Paul is doingfor Science and Mechanics, the sister magazine of _Wonder Stories_....One of H. G. Wells' latest contributions is "Love on Mars" in aromance magazine.... "Conflict," a new magazine issued by the CentralPub. Co. at the old Miracle Stories address, will use "weird adventurestories".... R. F. Starzl had a review of the science fiction marketin the Author and Journalist over two years ago.... The staff of theDallas Journal serialized the first chapter of Burroughs' "A FightingMan of Mars" over WFAA last June.... Edison's last work is said tohave been on a machine to communicate with the dead.... Your scribe isNo. 1 in the Jules Verne Prize Club.... Two recent radio fantasies are"The Man with the Golden Head" and Stevenson's "Dr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde".... An excellent satire on interplanetary stories ran throughthe comic sheets of the AP newspapers, which showed Sappo andProfessor Whattasnozzle going through adventures on Man and Venus....A vote taken in the early days of _Amazing Stories_ showed 32,644 infavor of a bi-weekly publication, and 498 who thought otherwise....Edgar Wallace's "The Fourth Plague" is a good scientific mystery novel.

  ...o. x. o... ...o. x. o...

  Come over to "Our Readers Say"

  A VISIT TO JULES DE GRANDIN

  by Marianne Ferguson

  I got off the train at the Harrisonville Railroad Station, filled withmixed feelings, for I was to visit the world renowned detective, Julesde Grandin, and Dr. Trowbridge. As I walked uncertainly up the street,I inquired of a policeman, who directed me to Jules de Grandin'shouse.

  I am afraid that I knocked at the door somewhat timidly, and I soonheard footsteps coming down the hall. The door opened, and there stooda tall, dark man.