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Voice of the Imagination (VOM), whole no 17, August 1941
Page 19
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19 VOICE OF THE IMAGI-NATION D. R. Smith, England's Anti-Acky #1, on 26 May had this to say from 13 Church Rod, Hartshill, Nuneaton, Warwickshire: "The arrival of a little package bearing U. S. A. stamps and postmark was a shock from which I have hardly yet recovered, not being one of you sociable people whose acquaintances and friends are spread all over the world. As a fan I am near to being perfectly passive as it is possible to be I should think. I have been for long vaguely aware that there are mysterious benefactors in the US who provide vague acquaintances of mine with various magazines which I scrounge whenever it is possible to do so without over-much exertion on my part, not long ago a VoM arrived apparently through the auspices of Clarke (though I never managed to remember to find out or to thank him), Hanson passes odd copies on to me that he acquires and for the professionals I have managed to insert myself well up in the circulating chain which starts at Douglas Webster, but I have never enquired into the basic sources of these things. Anyway, to get down to business in hand, ta for the VoM. The package had, incidentally, been opened at some stage -- I naturally don't know if this is the custom with such suspicious-looking items but presumably some censor had something to scratch his head about. If there were any rude pictures in it they had been confiscated before it arrived. It is customary to say more or less what one thinks about his products when writing to a fan-mag editor, so I will open by saying that the format struck me as particularly good -- a point which I have noticed about other issues which have come into my hands. I don't seem to be able to work up much enthusiasm for the contents somehow, from my point of view they consist of people I don't know talking about things of which I know little and care less (like an outsider listening in to the chat of a family circle), and frequently in a language which I can't understand. Otherwise it's not bad. The 'Hymn to Satan' has me baffled. I have an uneasy feeling it is supposed to be funny -- I hope it is anyway -- but I can't quite raise a smile. And that seems to be about all -- except just to set down the general comment that apart from Astounding and Unknown and some of the FFMs I find that the vast variety of fantastic pulps now being produced are collectively and individually so abominably poor that they are simply marvelous." Eric C. Hopkins pens (in a chirografy difficult for us to decifer, so excuse it Eric! if misinterpretations are made) from 6 Elm Park Ave, Elm Pk, Romford, Essex, England, on 27 May: "Day by day, countries are invaded: battle-ships are sunk: the (looks like "centuries" but probly is "countries"?) are bombed off the map: stefanoj are conscripted (or hauled of, screaming, to horrendous farms!): goils are conscripted; in fact, in view of these last two facts, it's a lousy world. But I am not surprised. However, some weeks ago I arrived home to find a strange yellow thing upon the piano (chair?). I picked it up, sniffed all around it, and took a chance. I gazed upon Forrest J.'s ingenuous portrait (Vom #12), and fell across the keyboard. But there was no resounding polytonal crash, -- pianny doesn't play here anymo'. You see, I'm afraid the piano suffered somewhat from our bombing out. But getting back to the enigma and picking it off the floor, I was quite surprised. Somehow, studying the latest "Battle of the Atlantic" figures or mourning the lack of 'em, it is more startling to receive something from U.S. than a bomb in the back garden. But I am very pleased with it. Sed mi tre gojas kun gi, if you prefer it that way. The name, Ackerman, has always been as familiar to me as plum pie in August, carrots in March, or Ted Carnell's nostril mat (be this British for "handkerchief"?), and like the last-named doubtless, has ever harbored a hidden inner life and connotations of a legendary social gaiety. Your mutilations of the English language are, of course, famously infamous and have sustained the rather sinister VoM upon criminal (?) wings to all sectors of the earth. I'm shockingly lethargic and despite repeated resolutions have never got around to taking out a sub. on VoM. I'm circulating British fandom in an attempt to discover the guy who gave you my name and address plus any ideas for paying thee, for I am not nuts enough to edit a fanzine -- I pay others for the dirty work -- and so cannot swap copies. The former I suspect to be that generously introductory foreigner, Douglas Webster, tho' his actions are usually wicked like springing a sex book or some S.F. mags. upon me. VoM itself surprises me. Everybody has agreed it is the best fanzine in existence but I hadn't suspected it consisted wholly of letters from correspondents. I notice one or two criticisms regarding the content of the letters. Speaking as an Englander after fourteen months of a real war, I must say that it is strange to read of conventions (our last was two years ago!) and fillum fanning a la Potpourri en masse, altho' 'tis very easy to read. The duplicating or whatever it is, is superb. Nowadays, one catches
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19 VOICE OF THE IMAGI-NATION D. R. Smith, England's Anti-Acky #1, on 26 May had this to say from 13 Church Rod, Hartshill, Nuneaton, Warwickshire: "The arrival of a little package bearing U. S. A. stamps and postmark was a shock from which I have hardly yet recovered, not being one of you sociable people whose acquaintances and friends are spread all over the world. As a fan I am near to being perfectly passive as it is possible to be I should think. I have been for long vaguely aware that there are mysterious benefactors in the US who provide vague acquaintances of mine with various magazines which I scrounge whenever it is possible to do so without over-much exertion on my part, not long ago a VoM arrived apparently through the auspices of Clarke (though I never managed to remember to find out or to thank him), Hanson passes odd copies on to me that he acquires and for the professionals I have managed to insert myself well up in the circulating chain which starts at Douglas Webster, but I have never enquired into the basic sources of these things. Anyway, to get down to business in hand, ta for the VoM. The package had, incidentally, been opened at some stage -- I naturally don't know if this is the custom with such suspicious-looking items but presumably some censor had something to scratch his head about. If there were any rude pictures in it they had been confiscated before it arrived. It is customary to say more or less what one thinks about his products when writing to a fan-mag editor, so I will open by saying that the format struck me as particularly good -- a point which I have noticed about other issues which have come into my hands. I don't seem to be able to work up much enthusiasm for the contents somehow, from my point of view they consist of people I don't know talking about things of which I know little and care less (like an outsider listening in to the chat of a family circle), and frequently in a language which I can't understand. Otherwise it's not bad. The 'Hymn to Satan' has me baffled. I have an uneasy feeling it is supposed to be funny -- I hope it is anyway -- but I can't quite raise a smile. And that seems to be about all -- except just to set down the general comment that apart from Astounding and Unknown and some of the FFMs I find that the vast variety of fantastic pulps now being produced are collectively and individually so abominably poor that they are simply marvelous." Eric C. Hopkins pens (in a chirografy difficult for us to decifer, so excuse it Eric! if misinterpretations are made) from 6 Elm Park Ave, Elm Pk, Romford, Essex, England, on 27 May: "Day by day, countries are invaded: battle-ships are sunk: the (looks like "centuries" but probly is "countries"?) are bombed off the map: stefanoj are conscripted (or hauled of, screaming, to horrendous farms!): goils are conscripted; in fact, in view of these last two facts, it's a lousy world. But I am not surprised. However, some weeks ago I arrived home to find a strange yellow thing upon the piano (chair?). I picked it up, sniffed all around it, and took a chance. I gazed upon Forrest J.'s ingenuous portrait (Vom #12), and fell across the keyboard. But there was no resounding polytonal crash, -- pianny doesn't play here anymo'. You see, I'm afraid the piano suffered somewhat from our bombing out. But getting back to the enigma and picking it off the floor, I was quite surprised. Somehow, studying the latest "Battle of the Atlantic" figures or mourning the lack of 'em, it is more startling to receive something from U.S. than a bomb in the back garden. But I am very pleased with it. Sed mi tre gojas kun gi, if you prefer it that way. The name, Ackerman, has always been as familiar to me as plum pie in August, carrots in March, or Ted Carnell's nostril mat (be this British for "handkerchief"?), and like the last-named doubtless, has ever harbored a hidden inner life and connotations of a legendary social gaiety. Your mutilations of the English language are, of course, famously infamous and have sustained the rather sinister VoM upon criminal (?) wings to all sectors of the earth. I'm shockingly lethargic and despite repeated resolutions have never got around to taking out a sub. on VoM. I'm circulating British fandom in an attempt to discover the guy who gave you my name and address plus any ideas for paying thee, for I am not nuts enough to edit a fanzine -- I pay others for the dirty work -- and so cannot swap copies. The former I suspect to be that generously introductory foreigner, Douglas Webster, tho' his actions are usually wicked like springing a sex book or some S.F. mags. upon me. VoM itself surprises me. Everybody has agreed it is the best fanzine in existence but I hadn't suspected it consisted wholly of letters from correspondents. I notice one or two criticisms regarding the content of the letters. Speaking as an Englander after fourteen months of a real war, I must say that it is strange to read of conventions (our last was two years ago!) and fillum fanning a la Potpourri en masse, altho' 'tis very easy to read. The duplicating or whatever it is, is superb. Nowadays, one catches
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