As far as I can tell there’s no book dedicated to the history of Galaxy Science Fiction, although we do have several books that delve into this magazine’s strange history to one degree or other. The best that I’ve read myself would probably be Frederik Pohl’s The Way the Future Was, in which Pohl’s gives us some insight into working as a writer, an agent, and eventually an editor. H. L. Gold edited Galaxy for about a decade, but a car accident that left him in a good deal of physical pain incentivized someone taking over Galaxy and If (Gold was also editor of the latter, briefly). Pohl was already acting as Gold’s assistant by the end of 1960, but by the end of 1961 Pohl had emerged as editor of Galaxy in both name and function. While they had originally started as competitors, Galaxy and If became sister magazines, housed under the same publisher, and Pohl had control of both for most of the ’60s. Despite publishing quite a few award-winning stories during this time, Galaxy never again won the Hugo for Best Professional Magazine, and when Pohl did win three back-to-back Hugos for that category it was for his work on If. Despite initially having the reputation of being Galaxy‘s lesser and trashier sister, If amassed a more devoted following during this decade, somewhat to Galaxy‘s detriment.

I’ll be honest and say that I toyed with what stories I would be covering this month up until the very last minute (that is to say today), not because Galaxy wasn’t publishing enough worthy material during the ’60s, but because it was indeed such a strange time for the magazine. Galaxy under Gold had, for better or worse, a rather strong identity, with a stable of authors associated with it; but Pohl’s Galaxy is harder to define, its material having less of an emphasis on sociological and psychological SF and more being geared towards adventure fiction. There’s something oddly retrograde about Galaxy (even more so with If) under Pohl, not helped by Pohl himself being a vocal critic of the New Wave. This is a bit ironic considering Pohl was politically progressive and rather keen-eyed when it came to making observations on the goods and bads of the industry.

At the end of the ’60s there was another changing of the guard, with Pohl stepping out of both Galaxy and If, indeed leaving magazine-editing altogether, to focus on writing fiction again. Ejler Jakobsson, a Finnish immigrant who was actually nearly a decade older than Pohl and who had been working in the field for about as long, took over both magazines. I’m not covering anything from Jakobbson’s tenure this month; for that we’ll have to wait until October, when I tackle the ’70s. As for what I’m tackling this month, I intentionally decided to go for a roster of authors that is a bit less star-studded than when I covered the ’50s. We’re reaching for deeper cuts, for the most part, although whether this pays off is something only future me will know about.

Now, as for the stories:

1. “Something Bright” by Zenna Henderson. From the February 1960 issue. I’ve covered Henderson before, and while I wasn’t impressed with “Subcommittee” I’m always willing to give any author another try. What’s curious is to see Henderson out of her natural habitat, since she contributed far more prolifically to F&SF, whose lightness of scientific rigor probably appealed to her more.
2. “Arcturus Times Three” by Jack Sharkey. From the October 1961 issue. Sharkey debuted in 1959 and wrote basically nonstop for every outlet that would have him until the second half of the ’60s, by which point he seemed to vanish from the face of the earth. The closest I can find to a reason as to why this happened is that Sharkey was more a playwright who treated writing SFF as a side gig.
3. “Sodom and Gomorrah, Texas” by R. A. Lafferty. From the December 1962 issue. People tend to overlook Lafferty’s pre-New Wave years, which is funny because what early Lafferty I’ve read is still in keeping with his more famous (or infamous) material. Despite being a devout Catholic and politically conservative, Lafferty fit right in with the likes of Harlan Ellison and Kate Wilhelm.
4. “Think Blue, Count Two” by Cordwainer Smith. From the February 1963 issue. Speaking of authors who very much influenced the New Wave despite differing politics, Cordwainer Smith is the pseudonym of Paul Linebarger, who had US government connections as well as an admiration for Chiang Kai-shek. This didn’t stop him from being one of the most unique SF writers of his day.
5. “The Rules of the Road” by Norman Spinrad. From the December 1964 issue. People most recognize Spinrad not for any one of his stories or novels, but for having written “The Doomsday Machine,” one of the more memorable Star Trek episodes. He debuted in 1963, just in time to hit his stride when the New Wave came around, even appearing in Dangerous Visions a few years later.
6. “Shall We Have a Little Talk?” by Robert Sheckley. From the October 1965 issue. Sheckley was most prolific during the ’50s, and while he didn’t make his debut in Galaxy he still became heavily associated with that magazine. It’s easy to pigeonhole Sheckley as someone who only seems to write ironic social satire, which is understandable given he wrote so much of it early in his career.
7. “The Body Builders” by Keith Laumer. From the August 1966 issue. Like Sharkey, Laumer debuted in 1959 and became a somewhat popular figure during the ’60s, although unlike Sharkey we know why Laumer’s career declined afterward. Laumer suffered a stroke in 1971, and while he recovered somewhat he apparently never wrote as well or as prolifically as during his golden years.
8. “Eeeetz Ch” by H. H. Hollis. From the November 1968 issue. Hollis was a pseudonym for Ben Neal Ramey, who presumably took on the name so as to separate his SF writing from his day job as a lawyer. I’ve never read any Hollis before, not that he wrote much. The study of cetaceans really took off in the ’60s, hence this story.
9. “The Weather on Welladay” by Anne McCaffrey. From the March 1969 issue. We have another story revolving around cetaceans, but unlike Hollis I am actually familiar with McCaffrey’s game. By the end of the ’60s McCaffrey had emerged as one of the most popular writers in the field, with her Pern and much smaller Ship series amassing followings, although I’m not really a fan of either.

Won’t you read with me?