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Fantasite, v. 2, issue 2, May-June 1942
Page 3
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THE FANTASITE 3 Louis C. Smith's Fantasiana "Stony and grey, and agelessly old and chill, / He sits who craves no part in human will:" No, I'm not going soft in the head and sitting around composing poems. I know better. But it has occurred to me that perhaps some of you are lovers of really find fantastic poetry, even as I...And the above is the opening couplet from what I think is the greatest thing of its kind ever written. It is called "To the Unknown God," and is by John Gould Fletcher. Just where I ran across it, I can't remember, but at the time, I copied it in its entirety, and have often wanted to print it for others to enjoy. It is the story of a god so great that all the other gods were beneath his notice, and he retired to some far cosmos where he could watch all, but not be watched...Other couplets from this great poem: "Sometimes a world explodes, and people shriek / As they are torn to bits. He does not speak. "Sometimes a new star-cluster swift expands / Out of dead dust dark whirled. He does not move his hands." As I say, I can't remember what anthology it was in; but if any who read this really like the sound of the thing, I'll gladly send a copy. ------------------------ And there's another called "Darkness," by one of the greats, either Milton or Byron -- Milton, I believe -- that's quite tremendous. It deals with the savagery and despair of the day after tomorrow, when the world has retrograded back to the beast. ------------------------- DEBUNKING DEPT: My pet peeve just now is Fortier, the bibulous bull-thrower from Oakland. Sometimes he talks too much. Sometimes without knowing the facts quite fully. What he's been saying now, via Mercury, run something like this: "We went out to see Louis C. Smith the other day...You remember Smith; he's a real old time fan; he practically started fandom on the road to fame! He founded clubs by the dozen, magazines by the score!" Now, with your indulgence, let's clear up the fog. I admit about two words of the above. I am from 'way back -- dirty little fans are continually popping up to tell me I should have stayed back. That's not the point: I just don't like to go sailing hither and yon under false banners. Because maybe a lot of guys I used to know, and who know the facts as well as myself, are going to read those things that well-meaning, but slightly impetuous Joe writes, and they're going to grin lopsidedly and remark: "Lookit the bunk that fake Smith goes around handing people. Wotta liar!" The real story, if you'll pardon the ego, approximates this: I got into fandom about the same time as Ackerman, Wollheim, Tucker, etc., but not so rabidly. We did have a club around here, the original International Scientific Association, or rather, a branch of it. That club, as you may or may not know, was founded in 1926, with a bunch of fellows like Willy Ley, P. Schuyler Miller,
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THE FANTASITE 3 Louis C. Smith's Fantasiana "Stony and grey, and agelessly old and chill, / He sits who craves no part in human will:" No, I'm not going soft in the head and sitting around composing poems. I know better. But it has occurred to me that perhaps some of you are lovers of really find fantastic poetry, even as I...And the above is the opening couplet from what I think is the greatest thing of its kind ever written. It is called "To the Unknown God," and is by John Gould Fletcher. Just where I ran across it, I can't remember, but at the time, I copied it in its entirety, and have often wanted to print it for others to enjoy. It is the story of a god so great that all the other gods were beneath his notice, and he retired to some far cosmos where he could watch all, but not be watched...Other couplets from this great poem: "Sometimes a world explodes, and people shriek / As they are torn to bits. He does not speak. "Sometimes a new star-cluster swift expands / Out of dead dust dark whirled. He does not move his hands." As I say, I can't remember what anthology it was in; but if any who read this really like the sound of the thing, I'll gladly send a copy. ------------------------ And there's another called "Darkness," by one of the greats, either Milton or Byron -- Milton, I believe -- that's quite tremendous. It deals with the savagery and despair of the day after tomorrow, when the world has retrograded back to the beast. ------------------------- DEBUNKING DEPT: My pet peeve just now is Fortier, the bibulous bull-thrower from Oakland. Sometimes he talks too much. Sometimes without knowing the facts quite fully. What he's been saying now, via Mercury, run something like this: "We went out to see Louis C. Smith the other day...You remember Smith; he's a real old time fan; he practically started fandom on the road to fame! He founded clubs by the dozen, magazines by the score!" Now, with your indulgence, let's clear up the fog. I admit about two words of the above. I am from 'way back -- dirty little fans are continually popping up to tell me I should have stayed back. That's not the point: I just don't like to go sailing hither and yon under false banners. Because maybe a lot of guys I used to know, and who know the facts as well as myself, are going to read those things that well-meaning, but slightly impetuous Joe writes, and they're going to grin lopsidedly and remark: "Lookit the bunk that fake Smith goes around handing people. Wotta liar!" The real story, if you'll pardon the ego, approximates this: I got into fandom about the same time as Ackerman, Wollheim, Tucker, etc., but not so rabidly. We did have a club around here, the original International Scientific Association, or rather, a branch of it. That club, as you may or may not know, was founded in 1926, with a bunch of fellows like Willy Ley, P. Schuyler Miller,
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