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Apr .14—FinishedRobinson Crusoe.I want to find out more about what happens to him but Miss Kinnian says thats all there is.Why? Janet came back, still in love with him, still loved; he told her,You look older, which was a lie, because she looked younger, like a nineteen-year-old product of Dachau instead of a twenty-four-year-old product of Smith. Either the man had the hide of a rhinoceros, or he was driven by a passion I couldnt understand. In the first volume of S-F, reporting on 1955, I pointed out with some pride that as many as 50 or 60 s-f stories had appeared inslick, quality, and other non-s-f magazines. Last year more than that number was accounted for in the “Playboy-type” magazines alone. With what appeared in the slick and quality magazines, there were, I should estimate, upward of 200 stories (fantasy and s-f) published in non-s-f periodicals in 1959—equal to the contents of at least three more full digest-size magazines, but with circulations (in many cases) in the hundreds, instead of tens, of thousands. You couldve got into somebody else’s car. This Arvin fellow would have let you. Somebody with a heater or a big back seat or something. The plan worked marvelously. Once situated, they set up a rotation watch—four hours on, four hours off. Charlie figured he could reach the car from the apartment in half an hour if things looked ready to break. He figured hed have that much warning, by listening to helicopter messages, and watching TV and frequently checking the progress downtown where the cranes worked. Through the binoculars he watched the great jaws lift out cars, vans and buses and drop them over the sides of the freeway. Things would loosen up down there first, he figured, giving him time to bicycle six blocks to the pine tree a mile below his car. Scaling the tree he could reach the top of a 15-foot-high concrete retaining wall and drop to the freeway. From there it was an easy jog up the center strip and around the sloping cloverleaf curve to the overpass. Mr. Amiss expertise as a critic of s-f was assigned him by reviewers who did not know the science-fantasy field, but did know, and respect (with cause), the author’s reputation as a leading Angry Young Man novelist and essayist. His expertise as a writer—in this case a superb parodist—is notthe property of the reviewers, but very much his own.* * * * JANE BEAUCLERK:We Serve the Star of Freedom, F&SF, July. Amity Wellman! That— Somebody put a martini in his hand and he stood holding it, bronzed and tall in his dinner jacket, teeth gleaming white as his shirt cuffs.We had a show! he told them. We tied a rope around the thin end and stood the log up on its butt, which we jammed hard against the pile on our side of the bank. The one I wanted to go afterThe Roaches was a catchy little calypso called “Pollution”:If you visit American city, You will find it very pretty. Just two things of which you must beware: Dont drink the water, and don’t breathe the air. He dragged out the still damp leather satchel, the same one Burgade had carried into the Yosemite Hotel yesterday, and snapped the catch. Packets of greenbacks filled it to the brim— a larger amount of cash, Quincannon guessed, than the ten thousand dollars Dupree had extorted from Titus Wrixton. There was the medical mech, said Ian, calmly. A man like Kenebuck would be bound to have something like that around to play safe—just as he would be bound to set an amateurs trap.” The boarding horn of the spaceliner sounded. Ian picked up his luggage bag. “Good-by,” he said, offering his hand to Tyburn. Simple radio construction..
