Fresh from researching necrotizing fasciitis, a damn horrible disease if ever there was one, I needed some lighter entertainment—okay, some entertainment—and turned to my collection of mid-20th century Amazing Stories issues. They always take me to a place of pure fantastic adventures, in a time when things were simpler.
Today’s adventure was with the June 1947 issue of Amazing Stories. The special issue Shaver Mysteries.

For those who don’t know, Richard Sharpe Shaver was a writer who penned a number of stories set in a surreal world deep below ground, a world filled with bizarre robots and ancient civilizations. These were stories that were all true, according to Shaver. He’d experienced the events he wrote about firsthand.
It caused an uproar when the issue was published, with folks either demanding his head for sprouting such nonsense (and that of the editor of Amazing Stories, Ray Palmer, for believing in him), or thinking that Shaver had uncovered the biggest, baddest secret of them all. Giant underground caverns, mysterious ancient races, advanced technologies, aliens, teleportation… Pshaw. What gump.
It all began in September 1943, when Shaver posted a letter to the editors of Amazing Stories, giving them the key to an ancient alphabet (‘Mantong’), which was supposed to have been the mother tongue of all languages. Shaver didn’t want to die without getting this out into the world, so he said, and it was published in the January 1944 issue.
Then the letters began; numerous readers had tried out the key and said that it worked brilliantly in many languages, especially the older ones. Encouraged by this response, Palmer asked Shaver to write about his adventures in this world. Shaver did, and the end result was called ‘I Remember Lemuria,’ published in the March 1945 issue of Amazing Stories (actually, it was the editor, Palmer, who gave the story its title, as he refused to believe at that stage that Shaver had gotten the story from the underground world). It was hugely successful, with thousands of readers claiming identical experiences or even correcting certain mistakes!
This saw the magazine’s circulation increase dramatically, and as such, they ran a new Shaver story in each issue, culminating the June 1947 The Shaver Mystery special issue. The editor and staff were convinced that Shaver was telling the truth after they visited him in Barto, and saw for themselves that the man wasn’t a raving nutter with wild frizzy hair and whirlpools of insanity spiraling out of control in his eyes. They even heard the so-called “voices” that Shaver first picked up through a welding machine he was operating, and were now being beamed straight into peoples’ brains from deep caves by means of a telaug ray (Shaver had first picked up his co-workers’ thoughts, then weird things like screams from someone being tortured, unseen people discussing various odd things in a world that couldn’t exist).
So the June 1947 was born. This is from the editorial of the 1947 issue:
“Here it is, readers, in spite of Hell and High Water! The special Shaver Mystery issue! And if you think that first sentence isn’t sincere, you should have been in this editorial office to help put the June issue to bed! Never in our nine years of editing have such fantastic things happened to make an issue almost impossible.”
Palmer goes on to explain a myriad of bizarre happenings, including the whole manuscript vanishing for 3-4 weeks, only for it to be found in the place it should have been all along—except riddled with spelling and grammar errors. This, of course, after the proof readers had gone over it in detail, and found none. Galleys were incorrectly numbered, duplicated, disappeared, or subtly changed, there was an inexplicable paper shortage, errors in titles painted into illustrations… The “dozens of almost maliciously planned (so it seemed) interruptions from every conceivable source…”
The tales in this special issue were promoted as a blend of fact and fiction—fictional tales based on true events. There are articles too, ‘How to Use the Shaver Alphabet’ (written by the editors due to repeated requests), ‘Proofs’ by Shaver himself, giving his complete thoughts on the whole shebang. I like this bit:
“To those who cannot accept my work as anything but misguided imagination, or who think the whole “Shaver Mystery” is a rather stupid hoax, the following words are to be considered exactly that: more stupid contributions from a man who is purposely hoaxing stupid readers into believing silly things that could not possibly be true.”
(This article is actually pretty good—and for a work of fiction, Shaver put a hell of a lot of thought into this. Or maybe it is all true…..)

So just what in all blazes was this all about? Well, here’s a recap, taken directly from editorial of that issue:
“…an “adventure” in caves beneath the earth at incredible depths, where lived a race of people known as dero (detrimental robot) who were evil in intent, and tero (integrative robot) who were good in intent. These people, he explained, were descendants of the “abandondero,” or those human beings who were abandoned here 12,000 (?) years ago when a race of people (giants) called the Titans and another race called the Atlans left the earth in space ships because they had discovered that the sun was throwing off radioactives which were causing them to age and die who had been immortal.
“Since the Titan and Atlan cities were underground, and their vast civilization immovable, all their machines and cities were left intact; thus the abandondero, taking refuge in them inherited many wonderful things, which, because of their sun-polared destructive thinking processes, they turned to destructive purposes.
“With the aid of such machines as the telaug (telepathic augmentor) and disintegrating rays, plus various instruments such as the “stim” which enhanced physical and emotional pleasures, these dero took to tormenting surface people and thereby being the basis for all of our legends of cavern wights, little people, demons, ghosts and—during the war—gremlins.”
I love it! Ah, those were the days… Such unbound freedom, unrestrained by the weight of science.
So then, now I’m sufficiently recharged, I’ll take this ‘ere glass of scotch and resume the horrid horror story I’m writing about rot and death. Just great, I tells ya. Still, at least my shifty sideshow muse is happy. You should see the smile on his creepy damn face…









