Futuria Fantasia, Winter 1940

In Short

This Winter 1940 issue of the science fiction zine Futuria Fantasia gathers short fiction, weird poetry, satirical essays, and personal notes, all bound together by the enthusiastic editorial voice of a young Ray Bradbury. Across its pages, lost travelers wander alien landscapes, an astronomer’s secret unspools by the ocean, spacefarers endure absurd Venusian battles, and a young man’s musical trance pulls him into a harrowing cosmic dimension. It endures as a vivid, unvarnished snapshot of early science-fiction fandom, showcasing the raw passion, humor, and burgeoning creativity of mid-century speculative fiction.

The Story

The issue opens with a self-effacing editorial note acknowledging past grammatical blunders and premature printings, establishing a casual, highly personal atmosphere. The reader is then plunged into "The Voice of Scariliop" by H. V. B., where a lost wanderer named Redforth navigates the bizarre land of Tarath. Seeking escape after the Yulphog stole his soul, he encounters weird shifting colors and four demoniac pillars that dissolve into Eiry, the bat-winged, single-eyed Queen of Scariliop. Eiry offers him a way home, but her bargain drags him into a blue-tinged nightmare where he becomes the victim of a dark cosmic trap.

Tension shifts toward the fan community in Henry Hasse's essay "Aw G'wan!", a fiery rebuttal to a pseudonymous critic named Foo E. Onya. Hasse defends the science-fiction genre and its fans against accusations of being moronic, arguing that true lovers of the craft always return for those rare, exquisite story gems. He chides the critic for cowardly hiding behind an alias while insisting that the community's passion far outweighs its petty flaws.

Levity returns with "The Fight of the Good Ship Clarissa," a riotous parody following Anthony Quelch, the "Cosmic Clamor Boy," and his chaotic crew nine days out from Venus. Between typing absurd manifestos and tearing up old pulp magazines, the crew lands in a ridiculous battle against two Venusians. Outnumbered by their own absurd logic, the Earthmen collapse in slapstick defeat, leaving the weeping Venusians to lament the senseless violence under a pale sunrise.

Atmospheric terror takes hold in Emil Petaja's "The Intruder." A shopkeeper named Otis Marlin sits on a misty San Francisco bench when a mysterious, heavily bundled stranger approaches. The stranger reveals terrifying cosmic truths: that stars hold malignant patterns, that imaginative writers who guess the truth are eliminated, and that ancient gods were merely jesting distractions. The stranger confesses he removed his own mind to probe the cosmos, only to be broken by the evil entities waiting there to exploit Earth. Driven to near-madness by the encounter, Marlin is left in despairing dread.

This eerie tone continues through Petaja’s poems, "Marmok" and another untitled verse, depicting soul-stealing cosmic horrors and tragic love, followed by short, striking poetic images of "Hades." Ross Rocklynne then offers a lighthearted overview in "The Best Ways to Get Around," analyzing fictional space propulsion methods—from light-pressure sails and magnetic guns to molecular drives and ether propellers.

The magazine culminates in "The Symphonic Abduction" by Anthony Corvais. A young man named Jerry Spencer plays Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake at maximum volume while home alone. The overpowering sound transports his mind into a surreal dimension of webbed moons, oozing slime, and mating lensed trees. When his abrupt return to consciousness destroys the fragile alien alignment, he awakens shrieking on the floor, surrounded by family. The issue closes with "As I Remember," a casual column reporting on genre legends like Lovecraft, Derleth, and Heinlein.

How It Unfolds

The editor sets the stage Bradbury opens the issue with a playful confession regarding previous printing mishaps and unprintable stories. He invites reader criticism while introducing an eclectic lineup of weird tales, tongue-in-cheek essays, and striking artwork.

A lost soul meets the Queen In "The Voice of Scariliop," Redforth wanders a strange alien realm seeking escape after losing his soul. He encounters Eiry, a monstrous queen who offers him guidance in exchange for a mysterious favor.

Defending the sci-fi faithful Henry Hasse fires back at a cynical critic who renounced science fiction under a pseudonym. Hasse exposes the critic's hypocrisy and passionately upholds the genre's enduring power to deliver rare literary gems.

Brawling on the Venusian frontier A crew of eccentric expeditionists aboard the rocket ship Clarissa indulge in rowdy parties and absurd typing sessions. Their landing on Venus devolves into a hilariously chaotic fight where thousands of Earthlings fall to two crying Venusians.

A chilling seaside confession In "The Intruder," Otis Marlin meets a mysterious stranger on a misty bench who reveals that alien entities watch over humanity. The stranger warns that reaching into the cosmos brings madness, leaving Marlin paralyzed with fear.

Analyzing the mechanics of spaceflight Ross Rocklynne systematically reviews famous science-fiction propulsion theories, from light-pressure sails to ether propellers. He humorously evaluates how authors invent plausible-sounding science to move their heroes across the stars.

Abducted by a Tchaikovsky ballet In "The Symphonic Abduction," Jerry Spencer listens to a record at maximum volume, sending his consciousness into a grotesque, alien landscape. His forced return shatters the alien world and brings him back to reality screaming.

Scattered notes from the fandom rear The zine concludes with informal tidbits detailing personal letters, author gossip, and praise for contemporary pulp stories. The brief column highlights the tight-knit, collaborative nature of early science-fiction fandom.

The People

• Ray Bradbury (as Editor): The guiding voice of the zine. He wants to entertain his small readership, foster open criticism, and highlight imaginative artwork and prose. He approaches his mistakes with self-deprecating humor and an eager, youthful energy.
• Redforth: A lost traveler in "The Voice of Scariliop." He seeks a way to escape the dread land of Tarath after his soul is taken by the Yulphog. His search leads him directly into the eerie clutches of Queen Eiry.
• Eiry: The Queen of Scariliop. A non-human entity possessing a snake-like body, bat wings, a single vast blue eye, and a long filamental tongue. She offers Redforth a path to escape, using him for her own sinister ends.
• Henry Hasse: A passionate contributor and defender of science fiction. He seeks to defend the genre and its fans against harsh criticism. He opposes anonymous cynics and stands up for the artistic value found within pulp literature.
• Otis Marlin: A modest book-shop worker who values fine literature and quiet solitude. His peaceful seaside walk is interrupted by a terrifying stranger whose cosmic revelations leave Marlin haunted and questioning his own sanity.
• The Stranger: A tormented, worldless alien-mind explorer wrapped in an overcoat. Driven by an overwhelming need to share his burden, he reveals the malignant secrets of the universe to Marlin before disappearing.
• Jerry Spencer: A music enthusiast who uses overwhelming volume to unlock vivid dreamscapes. His pursuit of musical ecstasy accidentally hurls his mind across dimensions, leaving him traumatized by the hideous alien realities he witnesses.

In Its Own Voice

"The vapor-cloud condensed into a woman's body. EIRY. Queen of Scariliop!" Redforth witnesses the strange, magical emergence of a monstrous queen from shimmering clouds of steam.

"Why is it that people, including the lowly science-fiction fan, always feel it necessary to hide behind a pseudonym when they have something to say which they think will displease someone?" Henry Hasse calls out critical readers who attack the community without taking personal responsibility for their words.

"The warm darkness of my closed eyes lightened to infinities of cold, deep-blue emptiness, through which I felt myself gliding as the theme progressed." Jerry Spencer describes the initial moment Tchaikovsky's music lifts his mind away from Earth and into space.

What It's Really About

At its core, this zine explores the double-edged sword of human imagination and the deep longing for connection. Stories like "The Intruder" and "The Symphonic Abduction" examine the peril of peering too closely into the unknown, suggesting that reaching beyond human boundaries can shatter the mind. At the same time, the editorial ramblings, essays, and parodies reveal a community of young writers fiercely dedicated to escaping mundane reality through art. The issue argues that while the cosmos may be dark, terrifying, or vast, the shared act of creation and storytelling brings order to the void.

Why Read It Today

This collection will deeply resonate with literary historians, pop-culture enthusiasts, and devoted fans of classic science fiction who want to witness the genre's formative years. Reading it feels like discovering a dusty, handwritten time capsule straight from the 1940s fan scene. It offers a rare, intimate look at a young Ray Bradbury honing his voice alongside his peers, long before he became a household name.

The issue carries the charm and flaws of its era. Modern readers will easily spot period oddities, including phonetic dialect choices, exaggerated slapstick humor, informal punctuation, and unpolished prose. The amateur layout and rough transitions reflect the quick, seat-of-the-pants publishing style of early zines. Yet, these raw qualities are precisely what make the issue so compelling. What stays with you is the boundless enthusiasm on every page—a group of young creators pouring their hearts into short stories, heated debates, and cosmic dreams simply for the pure joy of sharing them.