FAN FARE
VOL 3, NO 3
MAY '53
15¢
FAN-FARE is published bimonthly
by SSR Publications, 119 Ward Rd.,
North Tonawanda, New York.
Manuscripts submitted for publication should be accompanied by
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Subscriptions to FAN-FARE: six issues/75¢. Each issue, 15¢.
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SSR PUBLICATIONS consists of A. C. Leverentz, R. E. Briney, and W.
P. Ganley.
_Editor_: W. Paul Ganley
Cover by Charles Momberger
(see editorial please).
CONTENTS
THE ANNALS OF AARDVARK
by Harlan Ellison
THE GOTHIC HORROR
by George Wetzel
LOOSE ENDS
by Jean Reedy
A TIME TO LOVE
by Don Howard Donnell
_VERSE_:
THREE A.M., by Walt Klein
AT TAKEOFF TIME, by R. L. Clancy
NOVA, by Keran O'Brien
THE SEA AT EVENING, by A. Duane
TAVERN MOOD, by Walt Klein
_FEATURES_:
ENTR'ACTE
ASSAY REPORT
WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN
... ENTR'ACTE
This issue was published with the thought in mind that it would be nice
to distribute it at the Midwestcon--in the rush to get it finished,
the aid of Robert J. Fritz (editor of the now defunct HYPEROPIA) and
Joseph M. Fillinger (editor of the now defunct GHUVNA). This was a
mistake--as a matter of fact, two mistakes! Note the sloppiness of the
interior reproduction. Note the cover, and realize that Joe swiped it
from a Momberger cover on the second issue of GHUVNA; it suffered in
the process, and I expect Charlie to sue me any day now. I'm tired of
saying in each issue that the next one will see, finally, publication
of the DeWeese story. It is _not_ a myth ... and it will appear. What?
Well, now, you just wait and see!!
Beginning with this issue I am experimenting with kinds of stories--I'm
tired of publishing tales that "almost made the pulps;" eventually,
FAN-FARE will be issued in a better format than mimeographing--I'd have
it lithographed beginning right away if I thought reader support would
pay most of the cost, but I've learned from others' mistakes. And I
refuse to issue it in the not-so-costly microscopic form which early
issues of SF DIGEST used.... I'd have to provide magnifying lenses!
Next issue the regular page of book reviews should return, and I hope
to have another installment of the Loverontz column--having been
an observer to one of the latest atom explosions, he should have
interesting things to comment on....
--8 June, 1953
--THE EDITOR
THE ANNALS OF AARDVARK
BY HARLAN ELLISON
CHAPTER 1
THE ENTRANCE
C'mon in won't you? You can sit right down there in that rocking chair.
Oh! you saw the sign on the door and wanted to ask me about Aardvark,
did you? Well, I guess I'm the best person to tell you about him since
I was with him from the moment he entered the country. Do you want to
hear from there or from the real beginning? Well, okay, I'll tell you
about the start when he met the Valkyries.
You see Aardvarks can live only in the warmest places. So, when the
Aardvark got lost in the Swiss Alps, he was very uncomfortable. Don't
ask me how an Aardvark got to the Swiss Alps or what he was doing there
in the first place. He's never told anyone, except maybe the Valkyries.
Anyhow, stumbling around in the freezing cold, he got lost; but good.
Just as he was about to give up and say farewell cruel world, he
stumbled upon an ice crypt. Stumbled, he ran into it and knocked out
two teeth.
This crypt which was set in the side of one of the glaciers was not
an ordinary one, for frozen within its icy walls, rent free, were two
Valkyries and a large elephant. Even the elephant was unusual. He was
the sole owner (the Valkyries obviously had no use for one!) of a
handsome brown handle-bar moustache, nicely waxed and glistening.
The Aardvark, who was inquisitive as are all great men, strolled up to
the ice crypt as nonchalantly as a freezing Aardvark could, and dying
of hunger, put forth an exploratory tongue and licked the ice. To his
amazement, the ice was lemon flavored. Wait a minute, I'll tell you why
it was lemon flavored, but first let me tell you what happened.
Knowing full well the consequences of licking open this age-old ice
pack, but racked with hunger, the Aardvark proceeded to lick open the
crypt. After several minutes of lightninglike licking, the Aardvark
sated his hunger and in the process freed the Valkyries.
The Valkyries were forever grateful and proceeded to show the Aardvark
this by bursting into a Wagnerian opera, complete with flowing braids.
After the preceding formality had been dispensed with, introductions
went around and the Aardvark found out the fact, which is of
practically no use to anyone, that the Valkyries' names were Olga and
Ketanya Schwartz. Very old lineage, this name. The elephant, who had
been sitting by looking very bored about the whole thing, was named
Rubin.
The Valkyries, it seems, were delivering a package of lemon flavored
Jell-O to the cook in Valhalla, and en route, had gotten frozen in
the ice. The elephant was their mode of conveyance since all the good
horses had a day off and went to the people races at Lowaleah.
The Aardvark heard all of this in a rather detached way, for you
know most Aardvarks can neither talk, write, nor understand human
language.... The Valkyries who perceived this deficiency were
contemplating giving the Aardvark some of their Valkyrie Local Number
86112 Magic, Pat. Pending, when the recipient in question suddenly
turned a lovely shade of aquamarine, shivered, and dropped over, frozen
solid. This solved the problem very effectively. They worked their
second-hand magic on the fellow, and when he awoke...! Well, there was
a complete change in him. This was the exit of Aardvark, boy nothing,
and the entrance of Cassius Quagmire Aardvark, man of the world.