Although I am not Australian, I have long had a deep fondness for the country and an interest in visiting it which has, sadly, so far eluded me. But there are ways to cope and one of mine has been a long abiding interest in the works of author Arthur Bertram ‘Jack’ Chandler (not to mention a couple of Monty Python sketches. And I used to wear a digger’s hat at conventions).
In brief, Chandler was born in 1912 in Aldershot, England, discovered science fiction through the covers and pages of Amazing Stories by 1928, went to sea that same year as a merchant seaman (working on transatlantic steam(!) ships), plied the Atlantic during WWII, visiting John W. Campbell’s Astounding Stories offices when in port in New York City, encouraged to write his own stories, sold his first one (This Means War! Astounding Stories, May, 1944) and then, in 1956, emigrated to Australia, where he continued his career at sea, all the while either thinking about or composing some 200+ short stories, 40 novels, numerous poems, squibs and shaggy dog stories, writing until his passing in 1984.
An impressive twin career, capped off with at least two uniquely Australian accomplishments, one in each career: the Ditmar’s Lifetime Achievement Award bears his name and he was appointed the last commanding officer of Australia’s last aircraft carrier, prior to it being broken up for scrap. An experience drawn upon for his novel To Keep the Ship (DAW, 1978).
That last could probably be ignored in a discussion of his fictional contributions, except for the fact that both of his careers are inseparably entwined. One very strong characteristic of his work, noted and praised by his contemporaries, was his depiction of shipboard life. He had the work—a—day experiences down, the tiny details that conveyed a lived in feel, successfully translating his real—world experiences out into space with a verisimilitude few others have matched. In his entry in the SF Encyclopedia, John Clute writes
‘The Grimes/Rim World sequence is very clearly a Hornblower in Space transposition—much more directly than is usually the case—of the maritime world into a dream of interstellar commerce: ships into Spaceships, seas into the blackness between the stars, seaports into star ports, hinterlands into planets, the South Sea Islands into constellations. Much of the warmth and detail of Chandler’s work derives from this direct translation of venues, and Grimes himself establishes a loyalty in his readers rather similar to that felt by readers of Hornblower. Indeed, Chandler’s Space Operas are among the most likable and well constructed in the genre, and his vision of the Rim Worlds—cold, poor, at the antipodean edge of intergalactic darkness, but full of all the pioneer virtues—are the genre’s homiest characterization of that corner of Space Opera’s galactic arena.’T.
One of Australia’s own—Sean McMullen—went so far as to defend Chandler’s reputation in a lengthy piece first appearing in Eidolon, in which he points out how well Chandler’s stories were received by magazine readers at the time — ‘Very popular? The mythology does not support that idea, so bring on the facts. Chandler’s 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th stories in Astounding came 4th, 3rd, 2nd and 1st respectively in readers’ polls. Moreover, out of his first 20 SF stories in magazines that ran polls, half polled 1st, 2nd or 3rd. Say what you will, this is popularity.‘ (Eidolon, 4, March 1991, & BertramChandler.com)
One final bit of praise: One of Chandler’s last published works, Frontier of the Dark, (Ace, 1984) was an expansion of a short story of the same title that appeared in the September, 1952 issue of Astounding Science Fiction. The novel itself is dedicated to Harlan Ellison, who was so impressed with the shorter version that he asked Chandler to expand it and, when Chandler confessed he didn’t have a copy of the manuscript, Ellison pulled his own copy of the issue and sent it along. The two were good friends, often sharing hosting duties on a popular late—nite radio show called the Hour 25.
Indeed, one of Chandler’s last short stories (and, so far as I am aware, his only remaining unpublished work)—True Believers—was commissioned for The Last Dangerous Visions. (It has not been included in J. Michael Strazynsky’s forthcoming edition of that anthology.) Harlan was not known for commissioning work by inadequate authors.
Receiving high reader’s praise and the endorsement of famous (infamous?) contemporaries is one thing, but what did the guy write?
Well, he definitely wrote space opera, at least in the more modern understanding of that phrase; more than once the adventures of his most popular character—John Grimes—have been referenced as both Horatio Hornblower of Space and a more ribald version of Star Trek; Grimes being the space captain that James T. Kirk wishes he could be were it not for the network censors. (There’s a lot of time spent between planets.)
He tackled some deep themes—The Bitter Pill (Wren, 1974) examines totalitarian dystopian futures, Kelly Country, (Penguin, 1984) an alternate history look at Australian independence—and touched on subjects that were passed over by most at the time (homosexuality in False Fatherland/Spartan Planet (Horwitz, 1968); his depictions here leave something to be desired, but it can be forgiven somewhat considering its era—1968; Slavery on several occasions, most notably in The Inheritors (Ace, 1972); the sex trade and ‘alternative’ life styles (Matilda’s Stepchildren (DAW,1979).
He also fooled around in other author’s universes, notably Cordwainer Smith’s Instrumentality (The Inheritors Ace, 1972, Matilda’s Stepchildren HaleSF, 1979) and Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes (Hall of Fame Ace 1971), but what he mostly did was two extraordinary things:
he played with alternate timelines and parallel universes, and he created an unacknowledged ‘Future History’ in which the vast majority of all of his stories take place against a well—imagined and detailed background.
I’ve taken to referring to it as the Rim Worlds Saga, named for the group of inhabited planets ‘hanging on the edge of the universe’ where ‘reality thins out’.
I’ve spent a fair amount of time collecting and reading everything Chandler—from his John Grimes Autobiography (published in the Marcon XIII program book) to the memorial volume From Sea to Shining Star (Dreamstone, 1990) and have found that it isn’t only the back grounding that ties these stories together in unexpected ways, it is also supported by character references and historical incidents.
For example: Our first visit to a fully—realized Rim Worlds universe takes place in two of his earliest novels, The Rim of Space (Avalon, 1961) and The Ship From Outside (Ace, 1963). These stories feature the character Derek Calver (who is also mentioned elsewhere) but reference John Grimes, in a job that Grimes would have in the latter third of his career.
The Outsider itself (an alien construct just outside our galaxy that apparently exists in all of the various timelines/universes) is featured in stories involving Grimes, Calver and Irene Trafford (the Empress of Outer Space), even though they exist in different fictional realities.
He was also not above injecting himself, or, at least a version of himself existing in ‘our’ reality, into his fictional universes on several occasions (The Deep Reaches of Space, Hall of Fame, Words and Music) and even has Grimes himself confront the author.
I’ve uncovered 32 discrete ‘universes’ featured in his stories, and, despite hopping from one universe to another, all of them take place within a coherent and self—referential timeline that has no identifiable inconsistencies.
Considering that Chandler wrote all of these stories over the span of some four decades, while not maintaining story files or reference materials, this is a remarkable accomplishment. But I think he did have a memory aid for much of it, and that was the mapping of his fictional universe to the real south pacific one he routinely sailed.
For example, in his far future expansion into the galaxy, a Federation of Worlds (The Federation) is centered on Earth, with its principle headquarters in Woomera. A location deemed suitable for space launches and considered for such by the British Planetary Society. One well—known story (The Mountain Movers Galaxy, March 1971) takes place at Uluru (Ayer’s Rock) – which turns out to be a spaceship. One of the planets on the Rim is named Von Diemen’s Planet. (Yes, Chandler’s Federation sounds and acts a lot like Star Trek’s UFP – but it was not informed by Star Trek.) No doubt reader’s much more familiar with the locale will find additional connections.
During my research into Chandler’s works, I’ve uncovered a handful of interesting bits; a character from earlier novels—Irene Trafford (an elected Empress who abandons her empire)—could easily be referred to as ‘John Grimes in drag’ (and has been). In fact, Chandler’s novels Space Mercenaries (Ace, 1965) (Trafford) and Star Loot (DAW, 1980) (Grimes) are nearly identical in the telling. What really cements the idea of meta levels of alternate reality in Chandler’s work is the fact that both Trafford and Grimes meet up (along with a second Grimes and Poul Anderson’s Lt. Flandry) in later novels, Nebula Alert (Ace, 1967) and The Dark Dimensions (Ace, 1971), and they are aware of the fact that at least one of them is not where they belong.
Similarly, Another Redskin Bit the Dust (DAW, 1979) is a re—telling (re—alternate worlding?) of an earlier story Operation Starquest (Man, Oct. 1960, with pretty much the same painful pun as the denouement.
In Hall of Fame (The Kinsolvings Planet Irregulars Galaxy, July 1969), Chandler posits that all fictional characters, from Gilgamesh to Frankenstein’s Monster continue to enjoy existence, so long as someone is reading them. Authors instantiate these universes, readers sustain them. Which means that You, dear reader, have just given a boost to Grimes’ and Irene’s and Calver’s perpetuation, thank you!
Sad to say but. one of the consequences of being an author who produced so much, with so much detail, over such a long period of time, is that it is nearly impossible to share all of the wonder, let alone adequately reveal everything about Chandler’s works that ought to be revealed.
I’ve hardly touched on his two most famous and most anthologized stories—The Cage (F&SF, June 1957) (survivors of a wrecked spaceship are rescued by aliens who put them in a zoo) and Giant Killer (Astounding Oct. 1945) (mutated intelligent rats take over a star ship), nor explain that while these tropes are familiar now, Chandler was among the first to treat with them.
I’ve failed to mention how widespread Chandler’s work was during his peak, with stories sold to virtually every SF and Fantasy publication of that era—Astouunding/Analog, F&SF, Amazing Stories, New Worlds, Imaginative Tales, Startling Stories, Fantastic Universe, Science Fantasy, numerous Fanzines and far more.
Nor have I detailed the journey of how one of the few stories unpublished during his life came to find a home, assisted by well—known Australian publishers and anthologists (Paul Collins & Jack Dann), nor my own efforts in uncovering the fate of two ‘missing’ stories, or of the efforts to free his last remaining unpublished short story from the clutches of The Last Dangerous Visions.
And I’ve only touched upon that Future History I mentioned, and I have almost certainly not adequately conveyed the wealth of detail of the history, technologies (three, count them THREE different FTL drives!, all unique to Chandler), the planetary homes, the shipping lines, the star empires, alien species or the characters that populate his works.
That will have to wait until another time, as our time and space here is limited and, as Grimes famously says ‘Growl you may, but go you must.’
This article was originally published in Aurealis #169, August 2024.
Steve Davidson is the publisher of Amazing Stories.
Steve has been a passionate fan of science fiction since the mid-60s, before he even knew what it was called.
