Volume 1 January, 1934 Number 5

IT'S UP TO YOU!

The time has come when we must ask you a very important question. Do you want _The Fantasy Fan_ to remain a monthly, or would you rather have a bi-monthly or a quarterly instead? Now, don't answer this question by sending in a written reply. The only way you can answer it is by mailing to us a dollar for a year's subscription. Since the inception of _The Fantasy Fan_ it has been running at a great loss. The cost of having the magazine printed is not small and the subscriptions do not pay for one quarter of the total cost. This fact may astound you, but it is the truth. _The Fantasy Fan_ is young and not many of the fans know of its existence, chiefly because of the lack of a good advertising mediums for the most part, and the refusal of Weird Tales, the only really good medium for advertising such a fan magazine, to accept our ad for the second time. Perhaps you do not find our magazine worth a dollar a year, and that weird fiction would get along just as well without a fan magazine. In this case, you need pay no attention to this editorial. But there are those of us who really like our magazine and would not like to see it go bi-monthly or quarterly and yet have not subscribed. Of course, those of our readers who have, have all done their part and are under no obligation. The editor has created a considerable sinking fund for the cost of publication, and although the sinking fund is practically exhausted, we are not sunk! As long as he has an income, the editor is willing to sacrifice a portion of it to keep _The Fantasy Fan_ alive--but he alone cannot keep it a monthly. You cannot lose by the deal. You will get full value for your money. Our magazine will not fail, but if it did, every subscriber on our list would get back his money for those numbers he would not receive. So if the success of our magazine means anything to you, subscribe at once--each dollar sent in will insure a shorter period between issues. If you have already subscribed, try to get some of your friends interested. Give subscriptions for your fantasy fan friends. If your subscription runs out in a month or two, renew it now, ahead of time. Please send only dollar bills or money orders--no checks or stamps. _Are you faithful to fantasy fiction?_--then let's see action. I'm doing my part--are you doing yours? The February number will be the regular monthly issue, and probably March, but future numbers will be bi-monthly unless you who have not sent in your subscriptions do so at once! If you could foresee the many rare treats we have in store for you, you would not hesitate a moment.

Here's hoping we have many faithful readers.

--The Editor

INFORMATION

Through the courtesy of Ralph Milne Farley, Donald A. Wollheim, David Stolaroff, Ted Lutwin, and several other of our readers, we are able to present this additional list of stories written by Edgar Rice Burroughs as an addenda to the list presented last month:

The Outlaw of Torm The War Chief The Mad King The Girl From Hollywood The Tarzan Twins The Girl From Farris's The Mucker The Man Without a Soul The Pirates of Venus Lost on Venus Tarzan and the Lion Man Tarzan and the City of Gold The Apache Devil The Bandit of Hell's Bend The Moon Men The Red Hawk HRH the Rider Efficiency Expert

All of the above stories are not fantasy fiction.

* * * * *

Come over to 'The Boiling Point' and join in the argument.

SCIENCE FICTION IN ENGLISH MAGAZINES

by Bob Tucker

(Series Four)

This month, the column is devoted entirely to a small English publication knows as "Boy's Magazine." The particular issue in discussion is one of late November, 1933.

One of the two fantasy stories in this issue is "The Menace of the Monsters." The monsters, which are prehistoric nightmares of the past, invade England and proceed to raise everything they come upon, including a train, a couple of autos, etc. The story carried three pen and ink sketches which were very well executed. One portrayed a huge stegosaurus uprooting a train of cars, tossing it into the air, and spilling people out of it right and left.

Another illustration showed a tyrannosaurus in a death battle with a giant sabre-tooth tiger ... 'tis something to gaze upon, take my word for it!

The other science fiction story in the issue is named "The Ocean Crater" and resembles _Astounding's_ "Telegraph Plateau" somewhat, in the fact that a deep crater opens in the ocean and ships drop down into it. This story has two illustrations, one showing a ship falling into the "ocean-pit" and the other portraying the destruction of an airplane carrier via "electric-arrow" rays from an overhead enemy plane.

Another story in the issue, "Chin Ling's Ghost" was supposed to be a supernatural tale.

(We hope to be able to present another article in this series in an early issue.)

THE BOILING POINT

After five months, the Smith-Ackerman debate is still waxing hot. We open this month's column with another rebuttal from Ackerman:

"Since the pros and cons on my Boiling Point article have changed around to discussions of character, I wish to state that I do not like H. P. Lovecraft's attitude. I was interested in his closing sentence in the second issue, and also in Mr. Derleth's. They were both interesting to analyze. But I resent Mr. Lovecraft's further uncalled for remarks. If I am not qualified to judge any weird tales, he is not qualified to call names. It seems to me of late that his palsy-walsy Clark Ashton Smith has been turning out an over-abundant amount of literature--but goodness! I don't think the man egotistic and attempting to draw attention to himself! The man likes to write, and so do I. Yet Mr. Lovecraft says of me 'peculiarly ridiculous', because I make absurd comments to focus people's eyes on me; and write voluminously for the same reason, I take it. But I don't keep a scrap-book. That's not vary consistent with the nature described, is it? And ask Mr. Hornig what my answer was when he proposed a 'Forrest J. Ackerman' issue of _The Fantasy Fan_. What a puffing up I should have gotten had I been _that_ sort of person: You tell 'em Charles--what I said: 'No!' Not that I see what difference it makes who writes articles and how many of them there are in one issue, as long as they're good--which I hope mine are. But people _will_ talk. And so I am not obliging with an autobiography of myself for the 'Famous Fantasy Fans' feature either.

"Furthermore, Mr. Lovecraft, you seem to have forgotten something. I keep my letters from famous writers. You say I once wrote you a very childish attack on your work. But your answer to that letter was: 'I was very pleased to get your bright and candid letter this morning.' That is a different story.

"I write these paragraphs in my behalf, because, being more of a weird fans' magazine, I can't expect many voices on my side from _The Fantasy Fan_ readers. If you will see the third paragraph in the letter of C. Ferry and B. Rogers in the December _Wonder Stories_, however, you will find that the gentlemen are three times over as vehement and acidic as I. You might call them unknowing supporters.

"To Robert Nelson, who says I must be daft or an imbecile or a notoriety-seeking clown and knave (and does it in one breath), I can only answer that I thought it was a foregone conclusion that fantasy fans were 'daft' anyway, and that examination of the ratings of the members of my alma mater graduating class might prove differently about the second statement, and that I think I have cleared of the third already.

"Richard E. Morse's letter has impressed me as the one that really 'says something.' His thought had not occurred to me before, and it is worthwhile considering. _Weird Tales_ allows science fiction; why not _Wonder Stories_ weird tales? As the science fiction fan I am always eager to see stf in _Weird Tales_ and any other magazine. I see that the process can easily be reversed. So Mr. Morse 'has' me. The argument is settled.

"Numerous Eyrie letters knock stf in _Weird_: I only did the same, but from the other side of the fence."

H. P. Lovecraft also retaliates:

"Glad you are giving the vociferous Master Ackerman a hearing--it's always well to let both sides of a debate have an equal chance. But I fear that Effjay the Terrible and his allies don't make out a very strong case. The tirade to which exception was taken was not merely an assertion that Smith's 'Dweller in Martian Depths' is unsuited for a science fiction magazine. It was a wholly gratuitous and intemperate attack on the story itself, written with a slap-dash extravagance and obviously sadistic gusto which plainly showed either a complete lack of analytical understanding and imaginative sensitiveness, or (as it was probable) a mere boyish desire to show off and attract notice. However, Ackerman is young, as proved by his tendency to regard ordinary civilized language as alien and incomprehensible. Now that he's had a good barrage from the general public, it would be just as well to leave him in peace. Five years from now he'll go beyond any of us in laughing at his explosions of today."

William H. Dellenback also has something to say:

"I am not a Weird Man; indeed, I have read _very_ few weird stories that I have considered really good. Therefore, this is not so much a defense of Smith (who, I believe, is absolutely wrong in trying to link weird fiction with science fiction), as a rebuttal to Ackerman. However, first let me say that I think you are making a mistake, Editor, in publishing, and readers, in writing, letters which make too personal remarks. Aside from the fact that they are not true, the Boiling Point is for arguing about principles and not for calling antagonists names.

"But on with the dance--Forrest says that 'Dweller in Martian Depths' and 'The Light From Beyond' should not have been published in _Wonder Stories_. He also calls 'The Time Stream' doubtful material for a stf publication.

"Point 1--In regard to Forrest's dislike of Smith's excessive vocabulary, I will say this is purely a matter of personal opinion. And I respect his opinion (which is more than do Messrs. Lovecraft, Barlow, and Nelson) even though I don't agree with him. As a change from the average run of stf stories, I enjoy Smith's wonderful language; I believe I have read very few stories as beautifully told as 'The Light From Beyond'. And though I don't like his weird stories, nevertheless, his manner of telling seems to me admirably fitted to weird fiction.

"Point 2--I agree heartily with Mr. Crawford; science fiction would indeed be dull, if it consisted of nothing but the ideas Mr. Barlow lists. Fantasy is an integral part of stf; and while the three above mentioned stories were, for a large part, fantasy, they also contained the elements of strict stf.

"Point 3--Finally, if no other explaining will suffice, I can only offer this last fact: Such stories provide variety, and there are many who will like them. So, if you don't, Forrest, just forget about it. Stf can not be composed of all interplanetar yarns, or all medical, or all of any other type."

We hereby give notice that the Smith-Ackerman debate will be concluded in the February issue. It has just about run its course. If you have anything to say, you'd better say it now. It's your last chance. In next month's column, Clark Ashton Smith presents a rebuttal to the vociferous letter of D. Alexander's in our December issue. Mr. Smith is glad to know that Ackerman is being given an even break. We hope that this friendly argument has been well-taken by all concerned and will cause no hard feelings.

The Ghoul

by Clark Ashton Smith

During the reign of the Caliph Vathek, a young man of good repute and family, named Noureddin Hassan, was haled before the Cadi Ahmed ben Becar at Bussorah. Now Noureddin was a comely youth, of open and gentle mien; and great was the astonishment of the Cadi and of all others present when they heard the charges that were preferred against him. He was accused of having slain seven people, one by one, on seven successive nights, and of having left the corpses in a cemetery near Bussorah, where they were found lying with their bodies and members devoured in a fearsome manner, as if by jackals. Of the people he was said to have slain three were women, two were travelling merchants, one was a mendicant, and one a grave-digger.

Ahmed ben Becar was filled with the learning and wisdom of honorable years, and withal was possessed of much perspicacity. But he was deeply perplexed by the strangeness and atrocity of these crimes and by the mild demeanor and well-bred aspect of Noureddin Hassan, which he could in no wise reconcile with them. He heard in silence the testimony of witnesses who had seen Noureddin bearing on his shoulders the body of a woman at yester-eve in the cemetery; and others who on several occasions had observed him coming from the neighborhood at unseemly hours when only thieves and murderers would be abroad. Then, having considered all these, he questioned the youth closely.

"Noureddin Hassan," he said, "thou hast been charged with crimes of exceeding foulness, which thy bearing and thy lineaments belie. Is there haply an explanation of these things by which thou canst wholly clear thyself, or in some measure mitigate the heinousness of thy deeds, if so it be that thou art guilty? I adjure thee to tell me the truth in this matter."

Now Noureddin Hassan arose before the Cadi; and the heaviness of extreme shame and sorrow was visible on his countenance.

"Alas, O Cadi," he replied, "for the charges that have been brought against me are indeed true. It was I and none other, who slew these people; nor can I offer any extenuation of my act."

The Cadi was sorely grieved and astonished when he heard this answer.

"I must perforce believe thee," he said sternly. "But thou hast confessed a thing which will make thy name hence forward an abomination in the ears and mouths of men. I command thee to tell me why these crimes were committed, and what offense these persons had given thee, or what injury they had done to thee; or if perchance thou slewest them for gain, like a common robber."

"There was neither offense given nor injury wrought by any of them against me," replied Noureddin. "And I did not kill them for their money or belongings or apparel, since I had no need of such things, and, aside from that, have always been an honest man."

"Then," cried Ahmed ben Becar, greatly puzzled, "what was thy reason if it was none of these?"

Now the face of Noureddin Hassan grew heavier still with sorrow; and he bowed his head in a shamefaced manner that bespoke the utterness of profound remorse. And standing thus before the Cadi, he told this story:

The reversals of fortune, O Cadi, are swift and grievous, and beyond the foreknowing or advertence of men. Alas! for less than a fortnight agone I was the happiest and most guiltless of mortals, with no thought of wrongdoing toward anyone. I was wedded to Amina, the daughter of the jewel-merchant Aboul Cogia; and I loved her deeply and was much beloved by her in turn; and moreover we were at this time anticipating the birth of our first child. I had inherited from my father a rich estate and many slaves; the cares of life were light upon my shoulders; and I had, it would seem, every reason to count myself among those whom Allah has blest with an earthly foretaste of Heaven.

Judge, then, the excessive nature of my grief when Amina died in the same hour when she was to have been delivered. From that time, in the dire extremity of my lamentation, I was as one bereft of light and knowledge; I was deaf to all those who sought to condole with me, and blind to their friendly offices.

After the burial of Amina my sorrow became a veritable madness, and I wandered by night to her grave in the cemetery near Bussorah and flung myself prostrate before the newly lettered tombstone, on the earth that been digged that very day. My senses deserted me, and I knew not how long I remained on the damp clay beneath the cypresses, while the horn of a decrescent moon arose in the heavens.

Then, in my stupor of abandonment, I heard a terrible voice that bade me rise from the ground on which I was lying. And lifting my head a little, I saw a hideous demon of gigantic frame and stature, with eyes of scarlet fire beneath brows that were coarse as tangled rootlets, and fangs that overhung a cavernous mouth, and earth-black longer and sharper than those of the hyena. And the demon said to me:

"I am a ghoul, and it is my office to devour the bodies of the dead. I have now come to claim the corpse that was interred today beneath the soil on which thou art lying in a fashion so unmannerly. Begone, for I have fasted since yester-night, and I am much anhungered."

Now, at the sight of this demon, and the sound of his dreadful voice, and the still more dreadful meaning of his words, I was like to have swooned with terror on the cold clay. But I recovered myself in a manner, and besought him, saying:

"Spare this grave, I implore thee; for she who lies buried therein it dearer to me than any living mortal; and I would not that her fair body should be the provender of an unclean demon such as thou."

At this the ghoul was angered, and I thought that he would have done me some bodily violence. But again I besought him, swearing by Allah and Mohammed with many solemn oaths that I would grant him anything procurable and would do for him any favor that lay in the power of man if he would leave undespoiled the new-made grave of Amina. And the ghoul was somewhat mollified, and he said:

"If thou wilt indeed perform for me a certain service, I shall do as thou askest." And I replied:

"There is no service, whatsoever its nature, that I will not do for thee in this connection, and I pray thee to name thy desire."

Then the ghoul said: "It is this, that thou shalt bring to me each night, for eight successive nights, the body of one whom thou hast slain with thine own hand. Do this, and I shall neither devour nor dig the body that lies interred hereunder."

Now was I seized by utter horror and despair, since I had bound myself in all honor to grant the ghoul his hideous requirement. And I begged him to change the terms of the stipulation, saying to him:

"Is it needful to thee, O eater of corpses, that the bodies should be those of people whom I myself have slain?"

And the ghoul said: "Yea, for all others would be the natural provender of myself or of my kin in any event. I adjure thee by the promise thou hast given to meet me here tomorrow night, when darkness has wholly fallen or as soon thereafter as thou art able, bringing the first of the eight bodies."

So saying, he strode off among the cypresses, and began to dig in another newly made grave at a little distance from that of Amina.

I left the graveyard in even direr anguish than when I had come thinking, of that which I must do in fulfilment of my sworn promise, to preserve the body of Amina from the demon. I know not how I survived the ensuing day, torn as I was between sorrow for the dead and my horror of the coming night with its repugnant duty.

When darkness had descended, I went forth by stealth to a lonely road near the cemetery; and waiting there amid the low-grown branches of the trees, I slew the first passer with a sword and carried his body to the spot appointed by the ghoul. And each night thereafter, for six more nights, I returned to the same vicinity and repeated this deed, slaying always the very first who came, whether man or woman, or merchant or beggar or grave-digger. And the ghoul awaited me on each occasion, and would begin to devour his provender in my presence, with small thanks and scant ceremony. Seven persons did I slay in all, till only one was wanting to complete the agreed number; and the person whom I slew yester-night was a woman, even as the witnesses have testified. All this I did with utmost repugnance and regret, and sustained only by the remembrance of my plighted word and the fate which would befall the corpse of Amina if I should break the bond.

This, O Cadi, is all my story. Alas! for these lamentable crimes have availed me not, and I have failed in wholly keeping my bargain with the demon, who will doubtless this night consume the body of Amina in lien of the one corpse that is still lacking. I resign myself to thy judgement, O Ahmed ben Becar, and I beseech thee for no other mercy than that of death, wherewith to terminate my double grief and my twofold remorse.

When Noureddin Hassan had ended his narrative, the amazement of all who had heard him was verily multiplied, since no man could remember hearing a stranger tale. And the Cadi pondered for a long time and then gave judgment, saying:

"I must needs marvel at thy story, but the crimes thou hast committed are none the less heinous, and Iblis himself would stand aghast before them. However, some allowance must be made for the fact that thou hadst given thy word to the ghoul and wast bound as it were in honor to fulfill his demand, no matter how horrible its nature. And allowance must likewise be made for thy connubial grief which caused thee to forfend thy wife's body from the demon. Yet I cannot adjudge thee guiltless, though I know not the punishment which is merited in a case so utterly without parallel. Therefore, I set thee free, with this injunction, that thou shalt make atonement for thy crimes in the fashion that seemeth best to thee, and shalt render justice to thyself and to others in such degree as thou art able."

"I thank thee for this mercy," replied Noureddin Hassan; and he then withdrew from the court amid the wonderment of all who were present. There was much debate when he had gone, and many were prone to question the wisdom of the Cadi's decision. Some there were who maintained that Noureddin should have been sentenced to death without delay for his abominable actions though others argued for the sanctity of his oath to the ghoul, and would have exculpated him altogether or in part. And tales were told and instances were cited regarding the habits of ghouls and the strange plight of men who had surprised such demons in their nocturnal delvings. And again the discussion returned to Noureddin, and the judgment of the Cadi was once more upheld or assailed with divers arguments. But amid all this, Ahmed Ben Becar was silent, saying only:

"Wait, for this man will render justice to himself and to all other concerned, as far as the rendering thereof is possible."

So indeed it happened, for on the morning of the next day another body was found in the cemetery near Bussorah lying half-devoured on the grave of Noureddin Hassan's wife, Amina. And the body was that of Noureddin, self-slain, who in this manner had not only fulfilled the injunction of the Cadi but had also kept his bargain with the ghoul by providing the required number of corpses.

WE'LL BET YOU DIDN'T KNOW

by Mortimer Weisinger

That Penn State Froth, the official comic magazine for Penn University, recently burlesqued Amazing Stories.

That Charles Willard Diffin composes his stuff on a dictaphone.

That the A. in A. Hyatt Verrill's name stands for Alpheus.

That Jack Williamson is the only writer who ever copped a cover for each part of a serial.

That it's ironic that the letters in Verne's name, rearranged, spell 'never.'

That P. S. Miller is a descendant of Alexander Hamilton.

That Wonder Stories is the only s-f mag on file in the New York Public Library.

That the reason the first eleven issues of Amazing Stories were printed on heavy paper was because the publishers wanted to give the fans "a big package for their money."

That, with the exception of his first story, Hamilton has never had a story refused by Weird Tales. And even the first was accepted after rewriting.

That William Briggs MacHarg and Edwin Balmer (the creators of Luther Trant) are brothers-in-law.

That Wonder Stories paid over seven cents a word for Charles Tanner's story "The Color of Space."

That Forrest J. Ackerman used to correspond regularly with 115 fans.

That Jack Williamson is a cowboy.

That Charles Cloukey was fifteen years old when he sold his first story.

That the mystery novel, "The 13th Murder," refers to Amazing Stories and Weird Tales as "detective and mystery fiction"--and they ring Saturn!

That the story, "Warriors of Space," featured in the first issue of Science Wonder Stories, was a sequel to "The World in the Balance," in an old Argosy.

That Hugo Gernsback conducted a contest in Science & Invention to obtain a name for his projected magazine--named Amazing Stories after the winner was announced.

That P. Schuyler Miller had a B.S. and an M.S. degree before he was 21.

MY SCIENCE FICTION COLLECTION

by Forrest J. Ackerman