Artist: Richard M. Powers – Page 2 – Literary Art and Illustration

Rogue Queen, by L. Sprague de Camp – 1951 [Richard M. Powers and Edmund A. Emshwiller]

Well!

Sometimes it’s hard to figure out how to begin a blog post.

After all, what can possibly be said about L. Sprague de Camp’s 1951 science-fiction novel “Rogue Queen”?!

Except perhaps…

In the same way that readers and reviewers can have markedly different interpretations of the same work of literature, so can artists. Such is so for successive editions of L. Sprague de Camp’s novel Rogue Queen, which was first published by Doubleday in 1951 with a cover by Richard Powers, and was most recently reprinted in 2014. Neither abstract nor ambiguous like much of his later body of work, his painting – while stylized – is directly representational of an aspect of the book’s plot, which pertains to humanoid bipeds (biologically, very much like us) of the planet Ormazd, the organization of whose civilization is analogous to that of social insects: the bees, of our Earth. Powers’ cover – the fourth work of his massive oeuvre – combines central elements of de Camp’s novel – a revolt by the female workers of Ormazd (they do look a little insect-like, don’t they, what with the Vulcan ears and eyebrows?!), and, the influence of explorers from Earth (notice the helicopter and spaceship?), set against very “earthy” tones of orange and brown.

(This example is via L.W. Currey booksellers.)

I don’t know the specific month when the book was released, but a very brief review by “A.B.” (Alfred Bester?) appeared in The New York Times Book Review on July 29, 1951, under the title “Men of the Hive”, where it’s accompanied by reviews of Groff Conklin’s Possible World of Science Fiction, and, Jack Williamson’s Dragons Island, all enlivened by an illustration of fluffy extraterrestrial something-or-others on an alien planetscape. Though I don’t know the time-frame, it seems that the Times Book Review featured numerous such science-fiction mini-reviews during the mid-1950s, perhaps attributable to science-fiction by then – post WW II – finally moving into the mainstream of literary acceptability.

ROGUE QUEEN, By L. Sprague de Camp. 222 pp. New York: Doubleday & Co., $2.75.

MR. DE CAMP has made up for the lapse of his colleagues by producing a science-fiction narrative which is entirely about sex, and, surprisingly, non-pornographic. Imagine a civilization of mammalian bipeds not unlike us who have developed a society like that of the bees, in which all males are drones (that is, stallions) and all females, save for a few hypersexed queens, are de-sexed workers. Then let an expedition from Earth accidentally foster the concept of romantic love, and you have that rarest of collector’s items: a completely new science-fiction plot. A.B.

The Author: L. Sprague de Camp

And now, for something different. Er, completely different. Um, dramatically different: Ed Emshwiller’s startling take on Iroedh, the protagonist of de Camp’s story. While this cover shares the elements of Powers’ painting – female workers in revolt, earth spaceship, and spacey planet a-floating-in-the-sky – Ed Emshwiller really pushed the boundaries of 1950s paperback science fiction art in his depiction of the novel’s heroine. The sunset backlighting, purple cast to her skin, and yellow highlights lend a lurid and near-photographic mood to the cover.

As for the novel itself? I confess!… I’ve not actually read it (yet), ironically due to the near-mint condition and fragility of this copy. However, it does have two overarching similarities with a subsequent 1950s science-fiction novel: Philip José Farmer’s The Lovers, which first appeared in the August, 1952 issue of Startling Stories: A planet inhabited by a human – or near-human (spoiler alert!) – species which has complete – or near-complete – physical compatibility with humans, and, the result of human interaction with that alien species.

Given the timing of release of the two novels, I wonder – as I type this post – if de Camp’s book in any way influenced Farmer’s effort one year later. The answer to that question I do not know. What I do know is that despite the superficial parallels in plot of the two books, the The Lovers is (well, admittedly only compared with my reading about and not of Rogue Queen) an entirely different tale, the tone, mood, theme, and weighty conclusion of which are completely serious, addressing questions about the nature of love (not solely physical or erotic love, though those certainly are central to the story), society, and religion. In the hands of a skilled producer, director, and team of writers, The Lovers has more than enough substance to serve as the basis for a feature film, or even a miniseries. Would that this should happen!

As for Rogue Queen, the nature of de Camp’s book is well summarized in the following two blurbs from the flyleaf:

On outer flyleaf…

HE BROUGHT HER
A NEW KIND OF LOVE

This oddly alluring creature wouldn’t have made a bad-looking girl among human females – if your tastes run to pink six-footers with cat’s eyes! But being a neuter-female on the strange planet Ormazd, Iroedh had a lot to learn about the pleasures of love – and sex!

When Dr. Winston Bloch and his party arrived in their sky ship, Iroedh’s first duty as a loyal neuter worker was to line him up on her side in the planet’s inter-Community war.

But Iroedh was strangely (and illicitly) in love with the drone Antis, whose sole function was to fertilize the egg-laying Queen. Since the Earth-men had the power to save Antis from imminent liquidation, Iroedh had no choice but to join them and become an outlaw – a rogue.

Then she learned the amazing secrets of sex and fertility, how a neuter-worker can be transformed – in mind and body – into a flesh-and-blood functional female.

She and Antis take it from there, gaily changing the whole structure of Ormazdian life with the slogan –

“EVERY WORKER A QUEEN –
A QUEEN FOR EVERY DRONE!”

I found this version of Emshwiller’s cover art for Rogue Queen – sans text and title – “somewhere” in the digital world.

On inner flyleaf…

THEY INHABITED A STRANGE WORLD

Iroedh was a sexless worker in the far-off planet of Ormazd – but hunger made her a woman! Antis was a drone, the professional consort of a Queen – but love stirred strange emotions in his heart. Their extraordinary love affair turned the planet topsy-turvy after they met.

VISITORS FROM THE EARTH

Doctor Winston Bloch, who had sex problems of his own, and beautiful Barbe Dulac, who gave Iroedh her first abnormal (for her!) lessons in love.

The lovers learned many strange things from each other in the course of their adventures, and they met many strange beings, such as Wythias, the outlaw drone; Gildakk, the phony Oracle; and Queens Intar and Estir, who fought a duel for the succession to the throne only to lose it in the end to a new and exciting

ROGUE QUEEN

On back cover…

SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL – BUT SHE WASN’T A WOMAN

At least she wasn’t a complete woman.

But in her heart there was love for the drone Antis – strange love, strictly unlawful and delightfully unconquerable. At first it made her an outcast. Later the Earthman taught her the facts of full womanhood, and manhood too – and her body responded in strangle pleasing fashion.

Like all workers on the distant planet Ormazd, she had been a neuter-female, forced to leave the business of love – and sex! – to the Queens and the drones. Now armed with new knowledge, she opens thrilling possibilities for all the people of the planet, and proves – most divertingly – that love conquers all even in the heart of a

ROGUE
QUEEN

Harrrumphhh!

We’ll conclude right where we began.

In light of the above, there’s only one thing to be said about all this!

A Roguish Queen, at…

… Wikipedia

… Archive.org

… editoreric

… GoodReads

… Internet Speculative Fiction Database

A Suspension of Belief: Alexander Calder’s Mobiles and the Art of Richard M. Powers

Having commenced this blog over seven years ago … I’m typing “this” post at the end of March in the year 2024 (has it been that long?!) … by now I’ve brought to you examples of the works of numerous illustrators in the genre of science fiction whose paintings and drawings graced and covers and interiors of many pulps, numerous paperbacks, and (even!) some hardbacks published in the middle of the twentieth century. Very prominent among these artists is Richard M. Powers, to the extent that I’ve allocated a specific repository for his oeuvre in the “Category” sidebar of this blog, just as I have for Hubert Rogers and Virgil W. Finlay.

Several qualities are manifest in Powers’ paperback cover illustrations published from the early 50s through the mid 60s … his main body of work at the time. While some of these are purely subjective … a sense of mystery; an overwhelming air of ambiguity; a feeling of adventure; the beckoning “pull” of that which is unknown; the impression of man’s insignificance in the face of the infinite (albeit not at all in the gloomy sense of Lovecraftian cosmic horror); an optimistic “vibe” of adventurous solitude … and yet more! … other aspects of his work are visually explicit and entirely unambiguous: Bright, upbeat colors. Astronauts in spacesuits resembling the armor of medieval knights, or, Samurai warriors; the presence of a “horizon” denoted by the transition between shades of light and dark, rather than the crisply defined edge of a actual landscape; distant buildings whose outlines appear as curved silhouettes, kind of like The Jetsons’ “Orbit City” as if designed by an architect on (*ahem*) mind-altering-substances.

And, thinking about Powers’ covers from this era, another feature comes to mind. (It came to me gradually, as I created every new “Powers” post.) Some of his most visually arresting works feature objects that appear to be floating in sky or space, unattached, unmoored, and untethered. In a general sense, these things resemble truncated or partial ellipses (2-D) or ellipsoids (3-D), with their long dimension parallel to the horizon. Some of these objects are partial edges of an ellipse, while others (seems like we’re dealing with topology, eh?!) have a “gap” or void in the middle.

You can see relevant examples of Powers’ art below, showing covers created between 1952 and 1963. As the years go by, the shapes become more complex and three-dimensional, having very much of an organic-metallic appearance.

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A Decade of Fantasy and Science Fiction
1952

Star Shine
1954

Expedition to Earth
March, 1956

Reach For Tomorrow
March, 1956

SF – The Year’s Greatest Science-Fiction and Fantasy
June, 1957

A Treasury of Science Fiction
July, 1957

Worlds of Tomorrow
October, 1958

Spectrum
March, 1963

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And I wondered, “I know I’ve seen pictures of things like this before. Where did I see these things before?”

And then, it hit me: Mobiles?! Metal!? 1950s?! 1960s!? “Calder” came to mind.

And a search revealed the answer: They look just like the works of mid-twentieth-century American sculptor Alexander Calder, known for his mobiles, which are described as (quoting Wikipedia), “…a type of kinetic sculpture constructed to take advantage of the principle of equilibrium. [They] consist of a number of rods, from which weighted objects or further rods hang. The objects hanging from the rods balance each other, so that the rods remain more or less horizontal. Each rod hangs from only one string, which gives it the freedom to rotate about the string. An ensemble of these balanced parts hang freely in space, by design without coming into contact with each other.” You can read much more about kinetic sculpture here, at Architectural Digest, which states that, “The first name that pops up when anyone mentions Kinetic art is of the American artist Alexander Calder, one of the most innovative artists of the 20th century. After his meeting with the abstractionist Piet Mondrian, he was inspired to work in an abstract style, and his first moving sculptures were displayed in Paris in 1932. Apart from the abstraction, Mondrian’s influence can be seen in the primary colour schemes Calder used in his sculptures. Duchamp, the grandfather of whacky sculptures, coined the term “mobiles” for Calder’s works.” (Another excellent reference about kinetic art is DAISIE.blog.)

So, it was a case of one art – sculpture – influencing another art – painting, which influenced another art (business, actually): Publishing.

If it was easy to find information about mobiles and kinetic art, it was equally easy to find all manner of videos about this topic in general, and Alexander Calder’s work (and life) in particular. Six such videos showing Calder’s kinetic art, specifically in terms of its resemblance to elements in Richard Powers’ paintings, appear below. I’ve cued each video to start at the moment where the mobile or sculpture most closely resembles the illustrations above, but in light of their brevity and high production value, each bears viewing in its entirety. (Note particularly how the resemblance between the static sculpture in “Works of Calder, 1950 by Herbert Matter”, and the magnificent cover of Expedition to Earth.)

Neat stuff!

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“Alexander Calder PRIMARY MOTIONS at Dominique Lévy London” (March 21, 2017), at Lévy Gorvy’s YouTube channel.

“Works of Calder, 1950 by Herbert Matter” (May 12, 2015), at the Calder Foundation YouTube channel.

“Alexander Calder – opening scene” (April 18, 2012), at ffsherman’s YouTube channel.

“Alexander Calder: The Artist as Inventor” (December 7, 2020), at Sotheby’s YouTube channel.

“Alexander Calder – Structural Genius Meets Dynamic Energy” (February 27, 2017)

“Alexander Calder: Performing Sculpture / Tate Modern, London” (November 21, 2015), at Vernissage TV’s YouTube channel.

Alexander Calder, at…

… Wikipedia

… Wallpaper* (Performance art: a new Alexander Calder retrospective opens at Tate Modern)

A Reimagined Cover: The Sirens of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. – October, 1959 [Richard M. Powers] [Revised June, 2018 and March, 2024…]

So!

At long last, seasons 5 and 6 of The Expanse have finally been made available on DVD. A few moments ago I finished watching episode 1 of Season 5, which continues entirely undiminished from the superlative quality – in acting, writing, pacing, special effects (but of course), plot, and “mood” – from the prior four seasons’ episodes. Though I’m more than tempted to binge-watch the entirety of the new release – episode-to-episode in a continuous chain – without letup; with pause; without sleep (?); without food and drink (?!?) (naaah, just vastly exaggerating on those last two) – I’ll not do so, for I prefer to view each episode individually, thus enhancing the anticipation for and impact of each successive viewing. I’ll stretch it out. Then, I’ll go back to re-watch the entire season, to pick up the nuances of each episode that I may not have noticed the first time around.

Aside from its superb quality, a central theme of The Expanse – not explicitly articulated in the series, but nonetheless omnipresent – is that regardless of technological change, human nature in all its variations of good, evil, and somewhere-in-between, does not fundamentally change, and thus and inevitably, neither does human society. This is a tremendous and near-irreconcilable contrast with Star Trek (at least, Trek’s earliest incarnations, particularly TOS) many episodes of which were undergirded by a weighty and truly deadening air of progressive utopianism – human salvation and transcendence through the (forced) perfection of mankind? – reflective of both Gene Roddenberry’s personal beliefs and the tenor of the 60s. Yet, in spite of The Expanse’s realistic portrayal of the often disconcerting complexities of human nature, I think – it seems; it looks like – there’s an undercurrent of existential justice – just recompense for evil; the arduous and eventual endurance of good – that is manifest in the show’s “universe”, even if subtle, imperfect, and all too often sadly incomplete. As in, alas, our own world.

Anyway…

…back to this post!

Back in 2021 I spent a measure of time with an experiment in Photoshop Elements: Basically, I wanted to “re-imagine” the cover art of some particularly striking examples among my very many scans of the covers of science fiction books and pulps, in order see these works as originally painted, prior to the addition of titles, text, and publisher’s logos. Two are these are already “on display”: William Timmins’ cover for the January, 1946 issue of Astounding Science Fiction, and, Chesley Bonestell’s cover for the December, 1950 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Here’s another, albeit “this” post originally dates back to June of 2018: Richard Powers’ cover for Dell’s October, 1959 printing of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.’s, The Sirens of Titan. This image – which continues here from this post as it was originally created six years ago – shows my actual copy. (Purchased for about $1.00 a couple of decades ago at a used bookstore. (‘What’s a bookstore?” you might ask?”)) Thus, the seller punched a hole in the “price” at the cover’s upper right.

As t the novel itself? Ironically, I cannot offer deep commentary here, having read the book some decades ago. (Really.) Suffice to say that I know I enjoyed and was impressed by the author’s originality, but nowhere near enough to compel reading of Vonnegut, Jr.’s other, more “mainstream” works. Which, I have not.

Anyway, Powers’ cover art is typically wonderful, and beautifully displays his suggestion of a futuristic city-scape via elevated, bulbous “Jetsons” like towers; horizontally differentiated shades of color that gently suggest a distant if obscured horizon; strange and indefinable objects that suggest a blend of the organic, metallic, and mechanical; and – somewhat of a rarity for a Powers’ cover from the 50s and 60s – human figures that are clearly defined, as opposed to being miniscule and dwarfed by their surroundings. (Despite the abstractness of his work, the artist was entirely capable of rendering the human form to great effect.)

With that, here’s the cover as I re-created it using Photoshop Elements, by which I deleted all text, and cleaned up nicks, chips, and dings. This gives a glimpse approximating (I hope closely!) what Powers created before he handed the painting off to Dell’s art department.

Here are close-ups of the edited cover.

First, the lady. Or more correctly, one of the Titanian Sirens.

And, the whatever-it-is. If you rotate the image to the left so that the long dimension is horizontal, you’ll see that the sphere suggests a vague resemblance to a woman’s face.

Back cover.

And, the two close-ups as the appeared in the original (2018) version of this post.

Trafalmadore Recommends:

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., at…

… Internet Speculative Fiction Database

… Wikipedia

… GoodReads

The Sirens of Titan, at…

… Internet Speculative Fiction Database

… Wikipedia

… GoodReads

June 14, 2018 – 334

All The Traps of Earth, by Clifford D. Simak – September, 1967 (June, 1963) [Richard M. Powers]

The paintings of Richard Powers are striking in a variety of ways, one of the most obvious being the use of color. Well, there’s nothing too surprising in that, since color is an inherent part of our world. As for Powers, his works are typified by a combination of bright and contrasting colors of different hues, or, a range of colors in the same limited hue which differ from one another by saturation and intensity. (You can view numerous examples of these qualities “here”, at this blog!)

However, a very few of Powers paintings – at least, as reproduced for the covers of science fiction paperbacks – are the antithesis of color: They’re in “black & white”.

One, for the cover of Arthur C. Clarke’s Tales From the White Hart, was painted in shades of gray, with black and white details.

Another, for the cover of Macfadden Books 1967 edition of Clifford Simak’s All The Traps of Earth – below – is also in black & white. But, a close-up view of the painting suggests that the original art was actually in color. First, looking closely, you’ll see that the innumerable details in the painting were completed in many subtle, incremental gradations of gray, and as such, the painting lacks the contrast apparent in the cover of White Hart. Second, the features of the painting – the atmospheric quality; the indefinable, vaguely metallic, vaguely organic, curved objects floating in the sky – the strands of clouds wispily draped from lower left to upper right – the angular standing forms (buildings?) against the horizon – and especially, the suggestion of an alien “head” in the lower center – are features typical of Powers’ works which have been published in color. So, assuming the original was done in color, why did Macfadden publish the painting in black and white, given that the “SIMAK” logo is already in color?

This, I do not know.

Maybe just to be different?!

Regardless, even if in shades of gray, it’s still a cool painting.

And, markedly different from the very (!) plain back cover.

Contents

“All The Traps of Earth“, from The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, March, 1960

“Good Night, Mr. James“, from Galaxy Science Fiction, March, 1951

“Drop Dead“, from Galaxy Science Fiction, July, 1956

“The Sitters“, from Galaxy Science Fiction, April, 1958

“Installment Plan“, from Galaxy Magazine, February, 1959

“Condition of Employment“, from Galaxy Magazine, April, 1960

Here’s More

All the Traps of Earth, at the Internet Speculative Fiction Database

The Voices of Time and Other Stories, by J.G. Ballard – February, 1962 [Richard M. Powers]

I’ve read very little in the way of J.G. Ballard, with the solitary exception of the anthology Billenium, and his novel The Wind From Nowhere. Though I read both long ago, what still stands out in my memory is the sheer originality, in terms of plot and theme, of these literary works. Within Billenium, I was particularly impressed by the short story “Chronopolis”, which originally appeared in New Worlds back in June of 1960. Overall, I remember that neither the novel nor that anthology were undergirded by grandiose, sweeping, (space) operatic concepts. Instead, the foundation of both works both lay in taking an idea, event, or technology, indefinitely extrapolating its effects and implications in order to focus on the reactions of “man” – or, individual men and women – to worlds that have been transformed in unexpected, unanticipated directions.

Kind of like today. Now. 2023. (And beyond.)

So, here’s a Ballard anthology which I have yet to read: The Voices of Time from 1962, featuring cover art by Richard Powers. As for other anthologies, Powers’ painting has neither a central them nor really a single, main, primary (and major?!) subject. Instead, its only theme are abstractness and ambiguity. Within a haze of wavy red, then, gray, then olive, and finally dark green fog stand (and, float) shining, elongated objects (kind of lava-lamp-like, eh?). Some are solid; other are delicate lattices. And, a vertical shape in the background gives a sense of distance.

The only human form is a small anthropomorphic profile surrounded by a shining shield, in the left foreground.

Maybe I’ll get around to reading this one some day…

Contents, Contents, Contents

“The Voices of Time”, from New Worlds Science Fiction (#99), October, 1960

“The Sound-Sweep”, from Science Fantasy (#39), February, 1960

“The Overloaded Man”, from New Worlds Science Fiction (#108), July, 1961

“Zone of Terror”, from New Worlds Science Fiction (#92), March, 1960

“Manhole 69”, from New Worlds Science Fiction (#65), October, 1957

“The Waiting Grounds” from New Worlds Science Fiction (#88), November, 1959

“Deep End”, from New Worlds Science Fiction (#106), May, 1961

J.G. (James Graham) Ballard, at…

… J.G. Ballard.ca

… Internet Speculative Fiction Database

… Internet Movie Database

… Wikipedia

… GoodReads

… The Guardian

Reach for Tomorrow, by Arthur C. Clarke – March, 1956 [Richard M. Powers] [Updated post – with new detail!…]

From January of 2017, this is one of my earlier posts. Since then, I’ve been able to acquire a copy of Reach For Tomorrow in better condition than my “first”, this newer copy being presented below. Though I’ve used the same scanner (Epson V600, to be specific) to create images of both copies, note the difference in hues between the the covers of the two books.

I’ve also scanned specific areas of the cover at a ridiculously high resolution (600 dpi! – you can see the halftone printing in mesmerizing clarity) to present a larger image in your browser, and to give a better appreciation for the nature of Richard Powers’ art.

Like many of his compositions, the only human presence in this scene is denoted by a solitary, miniscule man: A simple figure in red stands atop a pillar in the left foreground, holding some sort of enigmatic object.

Otherwise, the view includes three floating and one fallen “objects”, another feature common to Powers’ cover illustrations for works of science fiction. Clearly, Powers (and perhaps the art department of Ballantine Books?) seem to have accorded a great deal of forethought and planning in the creation of this unusual cover, which – in terms of originality and impact – is strikingly like that of Ballantine’s 1965 release of Expedition to Earth. Which, along with Prelude to Space, I hope to bring you in a future post.

Note that the book’s rear cover has a horizontal format identical to the front, and includes illustrations of four other science fiction works by Clarke published by Ballantine. (Childhood’s End, Expedition to Earth, Prelude to Space, and Earthlight.)

Reach for Tomorrow was published by Ballantine in 1970 in a conventional vertical format, with cover art that – while nice – was equally conventional. You can view the later edition here.

Contents

Rescue Party, Astounding Science Fiction, May, 1946

A Walk in the Dark, Thrilling Wonder Stories, August, 1950

The Forgotten Enemy, Avon Science Fiction and Fantasy Reader, January, 1953

Technical Error (“The Reversed Man”), from Thrilling Wonder Stories, June, 1950

The Parasite, from Avon Science Fiction and Fantasy Reader, April, 1953

The Fires Within, from Startling Stories, September, 1949

The Awakening, from Future Science Fiction Stories, January, 1952

Trouble With the Natives, from Marvel Science Stories, May, 1951

The Curse, from Cosmos Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine, September, 1953

Time’s Arrow, from Science Fantasy, Summer, 1950

Jupiter Five, from If, May, 1953

The Possessed, Dynamite Science Fiction, March, 1953

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– Cover detail – right –

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– Cover detail – lower center –

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– Cover detail – lower left –

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Reference

Reach for Tomorrow, at Internet Speculative Fiction Database

From original post of January, 2017. A little on the green side, eh?

1/1/18 – 141; 1/29/20 518

Expedition to Earth, by Arthur C. Clarke – February, 1961 (December, 1954) [Richard M. Powers]

Some book covers are outstanding, while others stand out.

A few, do both.

Case in point, Richard Powers’ covers for two anthologies of stories by Arthur C. Clarke – Expedition to Earth, and, Reach for Tomorrow – published by Ballantine Books in 1956 and 1961, respectively. Even in comparison with the visual impact and riveting symbolism characteristic of Powers’ work, these compositions are truly outstanding. They suggest a level of planning, focus, attention to detail, and originality that truly went “one step beyond” (double entendre, there!…) the typically singular nature of his painting. Perhaps – just an idea – the quality of these works was a testimony to Clarke’s by then significance as an author, or, a decision by Ballantine to help generate even greater recognition for Clarke.

So, here’s the cover of Ballantine’s paperback 1961 Expedition to Earth, which is apparently based on and adapted from the cover of the anthology’s 1954 hardback edition. (At bottom of this post!)

Note that while the front cover depicts a massive reddish-brown “thing” (whatever the thing is!…), the rear cover isn’t “vacant”: A latticed sculpture on a curved framework occupies most of the landscape, and could easily be switched to the book’s front cover – the red massif going to the back cover – without losing any impact.

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Here’s a closer view of the massif. Notice the cloudless earth floating in the background? This, and the diminutive figure of a man (we’ll get to him in a moment!), are the only objects that are actually recognizable in the painting, which is bereft even of spacecraft.

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Two things here.

First, the object in the foreground is, I think, actually an anthropomorphic figure; a symbolized man. Though Powers was more than capable of rendering the human figures and faces – whether male or female – in dramatic realism, “people” in many of his paintings from the 50s and 60s were instead represented as elongated, vertically oriented shapes, with legs, torsos, and heads indicated by curves in a figure’s outline. Though I’ve not yet presented examples of his work from the 70s and 80s, a cursory internet search strongly suggests that realistic representations of the human form were by those decades increasingly incorporated into his work.

Second, the tiny, featureless human silhouette in the background – casting a shadow that extends across the cover – figured in a number of Powers’ paintings from this era. Conjecture: Perhaps this was the artist’s way of connoting the insignificance of a man – or mankind – in the face of the unknown, or, in terms of the physical immensity of the universe. Perhaps it’s a way of suggesting awe, wonder, and transcendence. Perhaps – just maybe? – it’s a tiny way of linking the imagined landscape to our reality.

The silhouette reminds me of something else: Brief moments in the latter part of the dream sequence in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1945 Spellbound. I’m certain the resemblance is purely coincidental, and I doubt these few seconds of the movie would have influenced Powers’ work nine years later. But, the similarity is interesting.

You can view the Spellbound dream sequence, care of Passthejointplease, below…

You can be fully spellbound by Spellbound via Old Time Movies, here.

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This close-up of the rear cover shows a smaller version of the massif, set behind the framework supporting the latticed sculpture. The pale green landscape is covered by concentric sets of curves, but, there’s no topography: It’s entirely flat.

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Here’s the cover art of the 1961 Ballantine Paperback, sans paperback. Found at Pinterest, this image reveals that the book’s cover art, as published, didn’t fully reflect the range of shades of orange, yellow, and tan in Powers’ original painting. What’s also apparent is that Powers limited the range of colors for land and sky to shades of red, orange, yellow, and olive green, while all other objects are in tones of purple and black.

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Now that we’ve viewed the paperback, let’s take a look at the cover of the hardback first edition.

This image, from John W. Knott Jr. Bookseller, clearly shows that the 1954 hardback cover design was the precursor for that of the 1961 paperback edition. In this version, the earth is very prominently displayed, while the “lattice” occupies the center of the image. Our diminutive silhouette-of-a-man stands nearby, yet virtue of being set against the yellow sky he’s nonetheless prominent. A part of that big red massif stands to the right. And, the sky to the left is speckled with stars. However, unlike the paperback, the first edition’s cover isn’t a wraparound. As you can see at DustJackets.com, the rear cover simply has a few endorsements. Perhaps this “first” cover, as printed by Ballantine in only two shades of color (guess they saved a few bucks that way?), revealed only a small portion of Powers’ original canvas.

When came time for the paperback, his composition could finally be printed – with a few features shifted, enlarged, or deleted – in all its color.

Expedition to Earth was published by Ballantine in 1971 with cover art that – while nice – was conventional. You can view the later edition here.

What’s Inside? (from Internet Speculative Fiction Database)

“Second Dawn”, from Science Fiction Quarterly, August, 1951
“If I Forget Thee, Oh Earth …, from Future, combined with Science Fiction Stories, September, 1951
“Breaking Strain”, from Thrilling Wonder Stories, December, 1949
“History Lesson”, from Startling Stories, May, 1949
“Superiority”, from The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, August, 1951
“Exile of the Eons”, (variant of “Nemesis”), from Super Science Stories, March, 1950
“Hide and Seek”, from Astounding Science Fiction, September, 1949
“Expedition to Earth”, (variant of “Encounter in the Dawn”), from Amazing Stories, June-July, 1953
“Loophole”, from Astounding Science Fiction, April, 1946
“Inheritance”, from New Worlds #3, October, 1947
“The Sentinel”, from 10 Story Fantasy, Spring, 1951
“About Arthur C. Clarke”, uncredited essay

12/11/22 – 90

High Vacuum, by Charles Eric Maine (David McIlwain) – 1957 [Richard M. Powers]

A straightforward example of Richard Powers’ late 1950s science fiction cover art….

With colors ranging from white, to bright orange, to dark greenish gray, to black, the cover shows the surface of the moon in (highly) imaginary, (very) exaggerated, (strongly) symbolic fashion: There are neither craters nor chain-like walls of jagged-peaked mountains, nor flat plains of dust, but spires projecting from an irregular foreground. A woman’s face, formed from a lined pattern of dots, is at lower right. Near the center is the only conventional element in the painting: The diminutive figure of an astronaut in a dark spacesuit, only visible because he’s backlit by a background glowing white.

Regardless of the cover’s originality, the novel itself – having gone through nine printings since 1957, the latest having been in 2021, is fairly straightforward and conventional. As described by Andrew Darlington [spoiler alert!], “1956 – ‘High Vacuum’ (Hodder & Stoughton, 12/6d, 192pp, Corgi, 1959, USA Ballantine), the ‘Operational Programme’ of the ‘Ministry of Astronautics’ undertakes the first lunar landing in Moonship Alpha. Three of the four crewmen survive the initial wreck, plus the female stowaway, the second, Russian ship is sabotaged, Kenneth F Slater says ‘although there is a survivor, there is not a ‘happy ending’ to the story. It is all the more realistic for that’ (‘Nebula’ no.25, October 1957). Leslie Flood adds ‘the story collapses into formula melodrama’ until ‘a dream glimpse into the future of the moon-base involving the stowaway’s spaceman son – immediately belied by the child being stillborn’ (‘New Worlds’ no.66, December 1957).”

So, it seems that the novel is primarily plot and character driven, rather than being founded in hard SF.

SURVIVAL…

“Vacuum is the first and last enemy of the astronaut. In space, vacuum is normal. In space, therefore, air is abnormal, and life forms depending on air for survival in space are in abnormal state. The establishment and maintenance of the abnormal is therefore the beginning and the end of interplanetary flight.”

The Handbook of the
Ministry of Astronautics

Charles Eric Maine, author of The Timeliner and The Isotope Man, writes a tale of a grim race with time. The Alpha rocket is the first manned expedition from Earth to get to the Moon. It makes a crash-landing, and facilities for “the maintenance of the abnormal” are sharply cut. There is enough oxygen to support the four survivors for five weeks – or two for ten, or one for twenty…
Nerve-wracking because it is so matter-of-fact, this is a high tension story of ordinary men in an extraordinary situation, of decisions quietly made that are literally of life and death importance, and, in the end, of the naked determination of the human will to survive – at any cost.

Otherwise…

High Vacuum, at…

… GoodReads

… Wikipedia

… Internet Speculative Fiction Database

Charles Eric Maine (David McIlwain), at…

… Internet Speculative Fiction Database

… Wikipedia

… The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction

… Andrew Darlington Blogspot (Includes reviews, biography. and filmography. (Indeed, a filmography.))

The Alley God (“The Alley Man”), by Philip José Farmer – The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction – June, 1959 [Edmund A. Emshwiller] / Ballantine Books – 1962 [Richard M. Powers]

Ballantine Books’ 1962 edition of Philip José Farmer’s The Alley God bears a singular example of Richard Powers’ cover art. But, before we get to that…

Here’s the cover of the June, 1959, issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction where the story first appeared, under the title “The Alley Man“. This cover’s by EMSH – Edmund Emshwiller. As described in Brian Ash’s The Visual Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, “…[the story] is in some ways akin to “Flowers For Algernon”, though on a more personal level. A mental and physical throwback, who believes himself to be the last of the Neanderthals, tries to come to terms with the modern world, and, in particular, with the intellectual superiority of the girl he loves.”

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Sidgwick and Jackson’s imprint (the only hardcover printing featuring the story), with cover art by David Hardy, appeared in 1970. This is the only appearance of the story in English-language book format other than Ballantine’s paperback edition. As in Ballantine’s prior imprint, the title is The Alley God. Via the ISFDB, “Sidgwick and Jackson was originally established in 1908 and acquired by Macmillan in the 1980s. It’s now an imprint of Pan Macmillan.”

This edition also includes “The Captain’s Daughter” and “The God Business”. The former is a variant of “Strange Compulsion” from the October, 1953 issue of Hugo Gernsback’s Science Fiction +, which is accompanied by six (count ’em, six) illustrations by Virgil Finlay, two of which are particularly outstanding, with a level of – um – er – uh – s y m b o l i s m (yeah, that’s it, symbolism!) that’s rather direct and unambiguous. I’ve not actually read the tale, but from what I vaguely know of it anecdotally and elsewhere – and as much as I admire Farmer’s body of work – I don’t think I’d want to. (!) As for “The God Business”, the story originally appeared in the March, 1954 issue of Beyond Fantasy Fiction.

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And so, we come to Ballantine Books 1962 Edition, which has content identical to that of the later Sidgwick and Jackson printing.

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Amidst a scene of urban desolation (notice the pebbles and stones scattered across the landscape?), under a violet and ochre sky – the colors work marvelously together! – the sun fixed above, are two human-like figures. One, kneeling, resembles the shattered remnants of a demolished building. The figure to the left is altogether different: Unlike anything else in the scene, it’s formed of a single, multiply folded bronze-like sheet, and props itself against the kneeling figure, to face the sun. (With longing? With fear? In worship? In wonder?) Where did it come from? Where is it going? For what is it searching?

Is it the only one of its kind?

Alley, (lower case) god, and man.

Easily one of Powers’ best works, I’m glad Ballantine’s design department left the image “as is”, without title or publisher’s logo printed upon it. Suitable for framing?

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There is no classifying PHILIP JOSE FARMER…

He has moved with equal ease from the rollicking adventures of “The Green Odyssey” to the weird ingenuity of “Strange Relations” to the sensitive poignancy of “The Lovers”.

Now, in the three novelets that comprise THE ALLEY GOD, he combines something of each of those qualities, using as central themes the universal concept of worship and the taboos that surround the human reproductive process.

Some people have, in the past, been shocked by the frankness of Farmer’s writing – but then, human experience is itself frequently shocking, and Farmer’s stories are of the very essence of human experience. No matter how wild the setting, nor how imaginative the circumstances, reality – human reality – is the motive power behind the foibles exposed, the shibboleths exploded, the secret dreams recalled.

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Other Neat Places to Visit

The God of the Alley…

…at GoodReads

… at Wikipedia (“The Alley Man”)

…at Philip José Farmer Philip José Farmer International Bibliography

…at The Hugo Awards (1960)

…at L.W. Currey, Inc. (…going for $350!…)

A Book…

Ash, Brian, The Visual Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, Harmony Books, New York, N.Y., 1977

Philip José Farmer…

…at Wikipedia

…at pjfarmer.com

…at Philip Jose Farmer

…at Internet Speculative Fiction Database

Spectrum, Edited by Kingsley Amis and Robert Conquest – March, 1963 (1961) [Richard M. Powers]

Though their literary oeuvres extended well beyond the field of science-fiction, Kingsley Amis and Robert Conquest collaborated as editors of the Spectrum anthologies, which were published in hardback format from 1961 through 1966 (except for 1964, when no such title appeared), and paperback from 1963 through 1968. Otherwise, the bulk of their work in the genre was in the realm of essays, reviews, and poems.

Spectrum – shown below – was listed under that title for editions published from 1961 through 1963, and reissued until the title Spectrum I for volumes published from 1964 through 1971. Richard Powers was the cover artist for this first volume of the series – Spectrum – while Paul Lehr’s paintings were featured on the covers of Spectrum II.

Powers’ cover art for this volume has the hallmarks of his covers of other anthologies dating from this period: Floating indefinable objects, a distant sort of city-scape, diminutive anthropomorphic figures, and, rather than a person with a recognizable face and physiognomy, a vaguely metallic, vaguely organic, vaguely human, bulbous-eyed figure walking across the foreground. Where’s it going?

And, here’s the floater…

What is it doing?

Truly, I do not know.

I don’t think anybody else does, either.

So, what’s in the book?

“The Midas Plague“, by Frederik Pohl, from Galaxy Science Fiction, April, 1954

“Limiting Factor”, by Clifford D. Simak, from Startling Stories, November, 1949

“The Executioner”, by Algis Budrys, from Astounding Science Fiction, January, 1956

“Null-P”, by William Tenn, from Worlds Beyond, January, 1951

“Inanimate Objection”, by H. Chandler Elliott, from Galaxy Science Fiction, February, 1954

“Pilgrimage to Earth”, by Robert Sheckley, from Playboy, September, 1956

“By His Bootstraps“, by Robert Heinlein, from Astounding Science Fiction, October, 1941

Robert Conquest…

…at Internet Speculative Fiction Database

… at Wikipedia

Kingsley Amis…

…at Internet Speculative Fiction Database

…at Wikipedia