Science Fiction Publishing

St. James Encyclopedia of Pop Culture, Jan 29, 2002 by Mike Shupp

The boom in American science fiction magazines peaked in 1953, with 174 issues of 36 magazines. Thereafter the number of magazines fell off first slowly, then abruptly in 1958 when the American News Service folded. Twenty science fiction magazines ceased publication in 1958; sales of those which remained were cut in half. The survivors learned to rely on subscribers rather than newsstand sales. This brought stability, but at a cost; the magazines became increasingly set in molds. Late 1950s issues of Astounding and F&SF sometimes seemed parodies of themselves in happier times, and of course, without impulse buyers, total circulation figures did not increase. Like other publications, the science fiction magazines also faced competition from television and the increasing volume of paperback books. These juggernauts were not to be defeated; a handful of magazines limp on today with stable (and small) lists of subscribers, but they are peripheral to the film and book markets; most self-professed science fiction "fans" do not read them.

A full account of science fiction in the 1950s would be incomplete without mention of the movies and television, from Them! (1954) to Twilight Zone (1959-1965). It is enough to note that Hollywood's version of science fiction was a separate art form, with strengths and weaknesses of its own, and that until the 1970s, the influence ran one way: the movies used some themes of genre science fiction, but had virtually no effect on magazine fiction and novels. A similar story could be told of the comics, except that Superman and Flash Gordon stayed closer to their literary roots.

What noticeably did not happen to science fiction in the late 1950s and 1960s was any improvement in its respectability and sales figures with the advent of the Space Age--a mystery perhaps best explained by the notion that the general public does not want firsthand acquaintanceship with technology and is thoroughly suspicious of science's offerings. Certainly the general repute of scientists deteriorated as the 1960s wore on (as did that of most authority figures). Even that triumphant symbol of science fiction perspicaciousness--the first manned flight to the Moon in July 1969--failed to satisfy; as many Americans (49 percent according to one poll) disapproved of the Apollo program as those who favored it, and space exploration has languished ever since.

Instead, in extraordinary numbers, readers of science fiction (and many authors) turned to the field of heroic fantasy, as exemplified by J. R. R. Tolkein's Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Conan tales of Robert E. Howard. The same authors often write both science fiction and fantasy, the same readers buy both genres (more or less, although fantasy is reputed to appeal more to women than does science fiction), and the same publishers print both, so distinguishing between them may be wasted effort. Fantasy's allure continues to increase, and its sales may now rival or even surpass those of traditional science fiction. The material generally runs low on literary merit (with some honorable exceptions, including C. J. Cherryh, Glen Cook, Joel Rosenberg) but brims over with action, villainy, and schmaltz; admirers of Dunsany and Cabell would be disappointed by the generally solemn mood. In tone and style, this material is redolent of the pulps, without the 1930s touch of class consciousness--American fantasy readers turn up their noses at proletarian protagonists but adore heroic lords, ladies, and royalty.