I found this little gem while rummaging through a used book store in Pasadena, circa 2006. Used book stores are solid gold, especially, if like me, you love bizarre 1970s—1980s designs and illustrations. This book was a great find and the price was super cheap.
Ariel, the book of fantasy was a periodical, published in the 1970s. As the name implies, each volume contains a compilation of short stories in the fantasy genre— as well as author and artist interviews. Ariel was put together by Thomas Durwood and Armand Eisen and distributed through Ballantine Books. The design is somewhat boring and more than a little kitschy (I dig kitsch).
The book I found was Volume 4 in the series. I was stoked when I discovered an interview with John Berkey upon scanning the interior (I’ve always loved Berkey’s sci-fi illustrations). There’s also interviews with Michael Hague and Isaac Asimov, as well as a short poem by Ray Bradbury. Michael Hague’s illustrations, you may recall, from reading The Hobbit printed by Houghton Mifflin in 1984. Hague’s work is OK, but it’s a little too Dulac derived for my taste.
Check out the dude with the AnkhRa! He’s mesmerized! (Actually I kind of like that photo.) I love collecting and looking through books like this. It’s surprising how inspired I become after leafing through them. It might just be nostalia, but I think it has more to do with all the effort put into the content.
Some of these short stories are intense. I often wonder how many people have described in detail things that will never be.
“As the PTS continued to plunge lower, the central dome and three of its peripheral spheres seemed to radiate as much light as did the ring of 10,000 watt flood lights encircling the 80 acres of ocean floor„
—Excerpt from Fathom 242
It’s strange thought that right now, somewhere, someone is developing a complex matrix of laws to govern the logic of a world that will never exist. I think it’s awesome that there has been so much effort, throughout human history, expended in the pursuit of such trivialities. Of course, I suppose it would be wrong to call them trivial, wouldn’t it? We use these imaginings as a way to communicate.