The Land Beyond The Lens

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Amazing Stories March, 1952
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Is Our Moon The Doorway To Another World?

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Loads of New Ideas

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That is actually the title of the lead essay in this wonderfully retro-looking issue.

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Secret Of The Observatory

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Amazing Stories, August 1938
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This entire issue can be downloaded here

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The Monster Died At Dawn

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Amazing Stories November 1956 thumbnail
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Amazing Stories cover, November 1956
Amazing Stories November 1956
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This entire issue can be downloaded here

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Somewhere I’ll Find You!

Amazing Stories Magazine December 1951 thumbnail
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Amazing Stories Magazine December 1951
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When they stole his girl, Langdon battled multiple worlds!

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I Remember Lemuria

Amazing Stories cover, March 1945 thumbnail
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Amazing Stories cover, March 1945
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Sensational ‘Racial Memory’ story

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Racial Memory was a concept very much in vogue at the start of the 20th century. Robert E Howard’s poem ‘Cimmeria’ is one of my favorite examples.

I remember
The dark woods, masking slopes of sombre hills;
The grey clouds’ leaden everlasting arch;
The dusky streams that flowed without a sound,
And the lone winds that whispered down the passes.

Vista on vista marching, hills on hills,
Slope beyond slope, each dark with sullen trees,
Our gaunt land lay. So when a man climbed up
A rugged peak and gazed, his shaded eye
Saw but the endless vista – hill on hill,
Slope beyond slope, each hooded like its brothers.

It was a gloomy land that seemed to hold
All winds and clouds and dreams that shun the sun,
With bare boughs rattling in the lonesome winds,
And the dark woodlands brooding over all,
Not even lightened by the rare dim sun
Which made squat shadows out of men; they called it
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and deep Night.

It was so long ago and far away
I have forgot the very name men called me.
The axe and flint-tipped spear are like a dream,
And hunts and wars are shadows. I recall
Only the stillness of that sombre land;
The clouds that piled forever on the hills,
The dimness of the everlasting woods.
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.

Oh, soul of mine, born out of shadowed hills,
To clouds and winds and ghosts that shun the sun,
How many deaths shall serve to break at last
This heritage which wraps me in the grey
Apparel of ghosts? I search my heart and find
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.

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All Heroes Are Hated!

Amazing Stories November 1950 thumbnail
Amazing Stories November 1950 thumbnail
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Amazing Stories November 1950
Amazing Stories November 1950
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