Saturday, 31 May 2014
Rambling Response to Henry Kuttner's The Dark World
I downloaded the ebook of this after I read an article suggesting that Henry Kuttner was an important figure in the evolution of Sword and Sorcery, helping to shift it from Robert E Howard to Fritz Leiber. So I assume, I forget most of the article to be honest and in retrospect I think it left a fair bit to be desired. I was clearly a bit confused when I downloaded it and took what must have been chapter titles as titles for short stories, so when I decided to read it recently I was a bit surprised to find it was a short novel. I was also surprised to discover it’s not really what I’d call Sword and Sorcery, although it’s not that far from the mark in some respects.
The Dark World tells the story of Edward Bond, an American veteran. Something happened to him in the war and he never felt quite like himself afterwards. He also had a strong sense that someone or something was pursuing him. Indeed they are and they find him and pull him through limbo from our Earth to the Dark World of the title. Here he learns he is not himself, he is Ganelon a lord of the Coven and the chosen of Llyr, a godlike being who only shows himself through a Golden Window from which he devours his sacrifices.
The real Edward Bond was Ganelon’s double on Earth, since the two worlds are essentially parallel universes. A sorceress did a switch and imprinted Bond’s memories on Ganelon, so he spends most of the novel trying to remember who he is and how to enact his evil plans.
I won’t go any further into the plot in case you want to read it yourself – it is a very short novel, more a novella and the pace is good so it won’t take long. Suffice to say it has many Sword and Sorcery elements – the Coven which is made up of a vampire, a Gorgon and a werewolf, a godlike being who can only be defeated by a particular legendary sword that bears the same name, there’s even the Forest people fighting a resistance – but all of these things are given a pseudo-scientific explanation.
The monsters of the Coven and even Llyr are all revealed to be extreme mutations of the basic human and their powers are explained in terms of forces and rays not magic. All of which shifts this into Science Fantasy, but I don’t think that was why it wasn’t what I expected.
The article that led me to Henry Kuttner (yet not CL Moore, I’ll get to why that’s a problem) had me thinking his work was very much in the Robert E Howard tradition, but the only author I was reminded of was Abraham Merritt. Yes there’s the dashing hero but The Dark World and The Ship of Ishtar (the only work of Merritt’s I’ve currently read) work on more mythic levels and have a romanticised detachment compared to the visceral world of Conan.
Their plots are also more dreamlike and have elements of psychological jiggery-pokery – such as I’m Ganelon but I remember being and think like Edward Bond, but gosh darn that’s familiar. And these things bring me back to CL Moore who to my mind combined them with the down-to-earth (or Mars or Venus) reality of Howard and excelled them all.
I had a quick look at the Wikipedia entry on The Dark World and it’s contested whether Kuttner is wholly responsible for writing it. He married CL Moore and the pair of them collaborated heavily from then until his death, making authorship difficult to ascertain. From what little I’ve read I would say Moore may well have had a hand in The Dark World but I don’t think she penned the final story.
The reason I should’ve been drawn to her at the same time as Kuttner is their collaboration and that before it she was the more important author. Having read a lot of her stories in a Gollancz anthology I’m amazed by her writing and consider her one of the best of the pulp-era fantasy writers. She’s certainly an author I want to explore further.
Keep dreaming!
Wednesday, 7 May 2014
Le Fanu’s Madam Crowl’s Ghost – Initial Reaction
Full disclosure, this was the second time I read this story, but my memories of it were vague at best. I had an image of the diabolical ghost from the end of the story in my mind but I remember feeling rather nonplussed by the story as a whole.
So why read it a second time? I think because I felt nonplussed and that didn’t make sense to me. Le Fanu entered my consciousness when I read Carmilla while studying vampires in my Honours year and he blew me away. If you haven’t read Carmilla, do it, the prose is beautiful. I then read the next story in the anthology I was using, Schalken the Painter. For the life of me I can’t remember what happens but I know I enjoyed it immensely; I must reread it too.
It was probably a year or two after that that I read Madam Crowl’s Ghost and I was quite surprised to be so disappointed. Having forgotten the details I couldn’t remember why such a master of 19th century supernatural thrillers would disappoint me. So I reread it to see if it was as drab as I recalled. It wasn’t.
I think the problem I had was it’s written in first person, which I love if it’s done well, and in the dialect of the narrator, which makes sense but in this case I think it probably threw me. The narrator is an old woman relating events from the first time she worked as a servant and her language is of the English working class from a century and a half ago. This kind of language is not conducive to feats of ‘high’ prose. Combine that with the late reveal which seems low key in modern terms and I think that was why I failed to be impressed.
Reading it again I appreciate the skill Le Fanu displayed in using the language of this elderly maid to build the sense of mystery around Madam Crowl. The story shows her in glimpses and through gossip, before a late scene where she scares the daylights out of the narrator. All that before she’s died, so the ghost only comes in right at the end, more as a way to reveal the answer to the mystery of the woman than anything else. Le Fanu builds the mystery through intimation and subtle hints which leaves us needing answers to solve the disquiet building in our minds and the narrator’s as she remembers the events of her youth.
By modern standards the story is a bit too anticlimactic and is paced rather slowly, but in the end that’s neither here nor there. It’s a strong suspense story of its day and demonstrates Le Fanu’s writing powers could match the dialectical challenges. It’s also interesting in the manner of its telling.
Most first-person narrations are given by people who only recently experienced the events they’re describing, at least in the last few years. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say there’s no discernable age difference or at least that age has nothing to do with story. Sometimes it will be an adult referring to events in childhood but I can’t think of any examples of that predating Madam Crowl’s Ghost (not that I’m an expert so that could be total rubbish). Having the story of an old woman told through the eyes of another old woman who is remembering meeting the first woman as a young girl changes things slightly.
That she was young at the time, and a maid where the titular character is aristocracy, gives us the mode of the story – fleeting encounters, gossip and innuendo. We’re also given her perspective which cannot help but have a heightened sense of fear due to her inexperience and the new surroundings.
But Le Fanu doesn’t spoon-feed us her terror with a close report of events; rather he shows it to us through the memories of an old woman. This costs him a certain immediacy in the key scenes but their vividness is now coming to us from years hence. These events have marked this woman for life and remained with her as fresh as yesterday. Even with her decades of experience since then the events of that time have lingered in her mind as a terrible mystery. It’s a tricky line but Le Fanu walks it skilfully.
The dénouement does wrap things up rather too neatly and the suspense is lost in the last couple of pages. Instead it shifts to the scandalous truth behind the mysterious old woman – a common enough ending for the time but it’s hard to read its efficacy these days when we’re much harder to be shocked. And that is likely the biggest reason for me not liking the story initially. I guess I’ve encountered the type enough now to enjoy the build of the story and not worry too much about the ending.
Keep dreaming!
So why read it a second time? I think because I felt nonplussed and that didn’t make sense to me. Le Fanu entered my consciousness when I read Carmilla while studying vampires in my Honours year and he blew me away. If you haven’t read Carmilla, do it, the prose is beautiful. I then read the next story in the anthology I was using, Schalken the Painter. For the life of me I can’t remember what happens but I know I enjoyed it immensely; I must reread it too.
It was probably a year or two after that that I read Madam Crowl’s Ghost and I was quite surprised to be so disappointed. Having forgotten the details I couldn’t remember why such a master of 19th century supernatural thrillers would disappoint me. So I reread it to see if it was as drab as I recalled. It wasn’t.
I think the problem I had was it’s written in first person, which I love if it’s done well, and in the dialect of the narrator, which makes sense but in this case I think it probably threw me. The narrator is an old woman relating events from the first time she worked as a servant and her language is of the English working class from a century and a half ago. This kind of language is not conducive to feats of ‘high’ prose. Combine that with the late reveal which seems low key in modern terms and I think that was why I failed to be impressed.
Reading it again I appreciate the skill Le Fanu displayed in using the language of this elderly maid to build the sense of mystery around Madam Crowl. The story shows her in glimpses and through gossip, before a late scene where she scares the daylights out of the narrator. All that before she’s died, so the ghost only comes in right at the end, more as a way to reveal the answer to the mystery of the woman than anything else. Le Fanu builds the mystery through intimation and subtle hints which leaves us needing answers to solve the disquiet building in our minds and the narrator’s as she remembers the events of her youth.
By modern standards the story is a bit too anticlimactic and is paced rather slowly, but in the end that’s neither here nor there. It’s a strong suspense story of its day and demonstrates Le Fanu’s writing powers could match the dialectical challenges. It’s also interesting in the manner of its telling.
Most first-person narrations are given by people who only recently experienced the events they’re describing, at least in the last few years. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say there’s no discernable age difference or at least that age has nothing to do with story. Sometimes it will be an adult referring to events in childhood but I can’t think of any examples of that predating Madam Crowl’s Ghost (not that I’m an expert so that could be total rubbish). Having the story of an old woman told through the eyes of another old woman who is remembering meeting the first woman as a young girl changes things slightly.
That she was young at the time, and a maid where the titular character is aristocracy, gives us the mode of the story – fleeting encounters, gossip and innuendo. We’re also given her perspective which cannot help but have a heightened sense of fear due to her inexperience and the new surroundings.
But Le Fanu doesn’t spoon-feed us her terror with a close report of events; rather he shows it to us through the memories of an old woman. This costs him a certain immediacy in the key scenes but their vividness is now coming to us from years hence. These events have marked this woman for life and remained with her as fresh as yesterday. Even with her decades of experience since then the events of that time have lingered in her mind as a terrible mystery. It’s a tricky line but Le Fanu walks it skilfully.
The dénouement does wrap things up rather too neatly and the suspense is lost in the last couple of pages. Instead it shifts to the scandalous truth behind the mysterious old woman – a common enough ending for the time but it’s hard to read its efficacy these days when we’re much harder to be shocked. And that is likely the biggest reason for me not liking the story initially. I guess I’ve encountered the type enough now to enjoy the build of the story and not worry too much about the ending.
Keep dreaming!
Monday, 7 April 2014
Pirates of the Gorm - an initial response leading to a rambling thought
Pirates of the Gorm by Nat Schachner sees a detective/agent go on a dangerous mission, fall (literally) into an enemy stronghold, beat overwhelming odds and win the girl who has no logical reason for being there in the first place. In short, it gave the pulp readers of the time what they wanted. The tropes Schachner employs are really the genre dressing and the method of delivery; the heart of the story is the pseudoscientific concept he wanted to show off – the Gorm.
The Gorm is a beam which can manipulate gravity, allowing interplanetary cruise liners to be captured and pulled in safely and for people to ‘fall’ through space in a direct line without gaining velocity etc. By today’s standards it’s not much of a concept but as the beam was in the hands of alien pirates it made for a fairly exciting story for its time I imagine.
Looking at it like this now though, it raises an intriguing observation. Much of the pulp fiction I read is very similar – be it science fiction, fantasy or horror. It uses a selection of tropes relative to its field to create a story around a ‘concept’. The concept might be a future technology, a fantastic being or a mysterious thing that terrifies and confounds, but it is always an intriguing concept. The hero, the girl – occasionally one in the same but not often – even the plot itself are secondary to this concept.
I think this is where criticism of pulp fiction, at least in Speculative Fiction, goes awry. It looks at the plots and the characters and shows how ridiculous, two-dimensional, clichéd etc they can be. It points out the overuse of tropes, it finds flaws in the literary style, it points out the bleedingly obvious. But it doesn’t consider the ‘concepts’.
Yes, this fiction had to appeal to its audience and at the time they made certain demands we now call ‘juvenile’ and many of them are indeed chauvinist. The stories also suffer from the prejudices of the age – ie if race is involved they’re disgustingly ignorant and racist. That last point can be hard to deal with at times and I know I say that from the position of white privilege. I can’t imagine how anyone of any other ethnicity could deal with some of the stuff these stories say.
I’ve become sidetracked there – but it is a truth that needs to be acknowledged. Fortunately, not all the stories feature such bigotry, although the ones that don’t also don’t feature anyone not white so I guess it amounts to the same. The sad truth is, in being like this the stories simply reflect the general attitudes of the day. Which doesn’t really cut it I know, but as formative elements in today's SF can we just ignore them? I hate the history of our treatment of each other, it really shouldn't be an issue and the stories shouldn't have this problem.
But, back to my point, I think looking at the pulp stories in light of presenting concepts through generic storytelling methods and tropes could explain their appeal and how they went on to forge the SF genre of today. And that is my newest Masters research idea.
The Gorm is a beam which can manipulate gravity, allowing interplanetary cruise liners to be captured and pulled in safely and for people to ‘fall’ through space in a direct line without gaining velocity etc. By today’s standards it’s not much of a concept but as the beam was in the hands of alien pirates it made for a fairly exciting story for its time I imagine.
Looking at it like this now though, it raises an intriguing observation. Much of the pulp fiction I read is very similar – be it science fiction, fantasy or horror. It uses a selection of tropes relative to its field to create a story around a ‘concept’. The concept might be a future technology, a fantastic being or a mysterious thing that terrifies and confounds, but it is always an intriguing concept. The hero, the girl – occasionally one in the same but not often – even the plot itself are secondary to this concept.
I think this is where criticism of pulp fiction, at least in Speculative Fiction, goes awry. It looks at the plots and the characters and shows how ridiculous, two-dimensional, clichéd etc they can be. It points out the overuse of tropes, it finds flaws in the literary style, it points out the bleedingly obvious. But it doesn’t consider the ‘concepts’.
Yes, this fiction had to appeal to its audience and at the time they made certain demands we now call ‘juvenile’ and many of them are indeed chauvinist. The stories also suffer from the prejudices of the age – ie if race is involved they’re disgustingly ignorant and racist. That last point can be hard to deal with at times and I know I say that from the position of white privilege. I can’t imagine how anyone of any other ethnicity could deal with some of the stuff these stories say.
I’ve become sidetracked there – but it is a truth that needs to be acknowledged. Fortunately, not all the stories feature such bigotry, although the ones that don’t also don’t feature anyone not white so I guess it amounts to the same. The sad truth is, in being like this the stories simply reflect the general attitudes of the day. Which doesn’t really cut it I know, but as formative elements in today's SF can we just ignore them? I hate the history of our treatment of each other, it really shouldn't be an issue and the stories shouldn't have this problem.
But, back to my point, I think looking at the pulp stories in light of presenting concepts through generic storytelling methods and tropes could explain their appeal and how they went on to forge the SF genre of today. And that is my newest Masters research idea.
Friday, 25 October 2013
Subgenres, Wikipedia and Finding My Geek Niche
I had some free time so I was browsing Wikipedia and ended up reading the articles on Sword and Planet and Planetary Romance. They clearly haven’t been written by the same people as they differ on a number of points. The Sword and Planet article, which I think is a better constructed piece than the other, argues that it is a distinct genre from Planetary Romance, whereas the latter article has a non-committal discussion on ‘sword and planet’.
Once the article on Space Opera is added to the mix things get even more confusing as it had a section arguing its definition in opposition to Planetary Romance – since one happens in space and comes from Westerns and Seafaring epics whereas Planetary Romance happens on a planet and is tied to lost world and lost civilisation tales. Who knows what happens when stories go from outer space to a planet and back again?
Now, I know opponents of Wikipedia will jump on this opportunity to say it’s more proof of its inaccuracy and inconsistency, but that’s not fair. Genres are notoriously difficult to nail down and subgenres like these are even worse and will be described differently by scholars regardless.
As always, genres and subgenres are just broad boxes which inevitably overlap in any given story. But looking at them and some of the authors involved in these and others (Weird, Sword and Sorcery etc) I realise I have a huge interest in the developments of Speculative Fiction (the overarching super-genre) through the first half of last century and the end of the one before it. Particularly in the pulp era when genres were being mashed together all over the place and new territories uncovered.
I think that’s where I’d like to focus my studies and my geekiness. So expect to see more posts on this era and the stories it generated.
Keep dreaming.
Once the article on Space Opera is added to the mix things get even more confusing as it had a section arguing its definition in opposition to Planetary Romance – since one happens in space and comes from Westerns and Seafaring epics whereas Planetary Romance happens on a planet and is tied to lost world and lost civilisation tales. Who knows what happens when stories go from outer space to a planet and back again?
Now, I know opponents of Wikipedia will jump on this opportunity to say it’s more proof of its inaccuracy and inconsistency, but that’s not fair. Genres are notoriously difficult to nail down and subgenres like these are even worse and will be described differently by scholars regardless.
As always, genres and subgenres are just broad boxes which inevitably overlap in any given story. But looking at them and some of the authors involved in these and others (Weird, Sword and Sorcery etc) I realise I have a huge interest in the developments of Speculative Fiction (the overarching super-genre) through the first half of last century and the end of the one before it. Particularly in the pulp era when genres were being mashed together all over the place and new territories uncovered.
I think that’s where I’d like to focus my studies and my geekiness. So expect to see more posts on this era and the stories it generated.
Keep dreaming.
Wednesday, 16 October 2013
September Reading Round-up
This month was mainly marked by two books, Kevin J Anderson’s Hopscotch and Frank Herbert’s High-Opp. I did also read issue 62 of Aurealis.
Let’s start with Hopscotch. The concept behind this is really intriguing; basically at some point in human evolution we gain the ability to swap bodies with each other, which makes the old adage of ‘live a day in another person’s shoes’ seem rather quaint – shoes? Bah, I was in their feet. The possibilities with this are huge and unfortunately the book tries to cover a lot of them.
It follows four orphans as they leave the orphanage and enter this brave new world. They each have their own paths and the stories wind their own ways, overlapping only in characters for the most part. At first it was like reading a series of interrelated short stories and I was enjoying that, but as the stories began to spin out I kept waiting for more to happen. So while I did enjoy it, Hopscotch could have been much better I feel. It explored too many ideas, the main characters were always too angelic and not enough actually happened. Which I didn’t expect from Anderson, although I admit the only other things of his I’ve read so far are his Star Wars works and the Crystal Door trilogy he co-wrote with Rebecca Moesta.
Herbert’s High-Opp was an early work, previously unpublished. It seems he wrote a number of works before Dune which no-one picked up and now the Kevin J Anderson and Brian Herbert team are making them available. Whether this is a good thing or not I’m not prepared to say; High-Opp had an intriguing idea but felt rather under-cooked – especially the ending.
It’s essentially a dystopia where the world is now governed by ‘opinion polls’ – fancy that. The extreme version of what we’re dangerously close to in reality does make for a good dystopia in the classical sense, but here it becomes more a question of cloak and dagger revolution. It does feature an advanced form of social psychology similar to what Asimov uses in the Foundation series, where behaviour and historical events are predicted; again it’s not explored much and is more a way for Herbert to push a political line – as is the end of the book. It wasn’t a bad novel, but it certainly wasn’t great either.
The stories in Aurealis #62 were Remnants by Dan Rabarts and The Leaves of the Manuka Tree by Phillip W Simpson. The first was a fantasy story that reminded me a lot of C A Smith in many respects; there was a king who’d lost his kingdom seeking an ancient artefact in a desert and even a necromancer. But I don’t think Smith would have had the family connection this one had. So I really enjoyed that one, the second one I did enjoy but not as much. It was more science fiction as it was far in the future and had a super soldier but it was wrapped up in Maori tradition, which was interesting in itself. However, it was very cut and dried and I just didn’t really connect with it.
I also started some books including book three in George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, it may be some time before I finish that though especially with NaNoWriMo looming large and the birth of my son not long after that. My ebook at the moment is Cory Doctorow’s Pirate Cinema which I’m having very mixed feelings about, more on that next month.
Keep dreaming!
Let’s start with Hopscotch. The concept behind this is really intriguing; basically at some point in human evolution we gain the ability to swap bodies with each other, which makes the old adage of ‘live a day in another person’s shoes’ seem rather quaint – shoes? Bah, I was in their feet. The possibilities with this are huge and unfortunately the book tries to cover a lot of them.
It follows four orphans as they leave the orphanage and enter this brave new world. They each have their own paths and the stories wind their own ways, overlapping only in characters for the most part. At first it was like reading a series of interrelated short stories and I was enjoying that, but as the stories began to spin out I kept waiting for more to happen. So while I did enjoy it, Hopscotch could have been much better I feel. It explored too many ideas, the main characters were always too angelic and not enough actually happened. Which I didn’t expect from Anderson, although I admit the only other things of his I’ve read so far are his Star Wars works and the Crystal Door trilogy he co-wrote with Rebecca Moesta.
Herbert’s High-Opp was an early work, previously unpublished. It seems he wrote a number of works before Dune which no-one picked up and now the Kevin J Anderson and Brian Herbert team are making them available. Whether this is a good thing or not I’m not prepared to say; High-Opp had an intriguing idea but felt rather under-cooked – especially the ending.
It’s essentially a dystopia where the world is now governed by ‘opinion polls’ – fancy that. The extreme version of what we’re dangerously close to in reality does make for a good dystopia in the classical sense, but here it becomes more a question of cloak and dagger revolution. It does feature an advanced form of social psychology similar to what Asimov uses in the Foundation series, where behaviour and historical events are predicted; again it’s not explored much and is more a way for Herbert to push a political line – as is the end of the book. It wasn’t a bad novel, but it certainly wasn’t great either.
The stories in Aurealis #62 were Remnants by Dan Rabarts and The Leaves of the Manuka Tree by Phillip W Simpson. The first was a fantasy story that reminded me a lot of C A Smith in many respects; there was a king who’d lost his kingdom seeking an ancient artefact in a desert and even a necromancer. But I don’t think Smith would have had the family connection this one had. So I really enjoyed that one, the second one I did enjoy but not as much. It was more science fiction as it was far in the future and had a super soldier but it was wrapped up in Maori tradition, which was interesting in itself. However, it was very cut and dried and I just didn’t really connect with it.
I also started some books including book three in George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, it may be some time before I finish that though especially with NaNoWriMo looming large and the birth of my son not long after that. My ebook at the moment is Cory Doctorow’s Pirate Cinema which I’m having very mixed feelings about, more on that next month.
Keep dreaming!
Monday, 30 September 2013
Author Profile - Clark Ashton Smith
Clark Ashton Smith came from a poor background and spent much of his early life trying to earn money for his family. But even while young he displayed a love of story and a passion for language. Some of his earliest works were written as a teenager and they were strongly influenced by the Arabian Tales, an influence that would linger.
He abandoned prose for some years and was a fairly successful poet. After his first published volume he was taken under the arm by George Sterling and mingled with fellow poets of the time including Ambrose Bierce.
Nowadays he’s remembered for his short fiction works which he wrote primarily for pulp magazines like Weird Tales. In fact, in terms of the ‘weird’ fiction of the pulp era he was one of the three heavyweights along with Lovecraft and Robert E Howard, and while those two may be better known these days I would argue Smith is the better writer of the group.
The ties between the three, while primarily through letters, were highly influential however as they borrowed names and ideas from each other frequently. So the building and weaving of certain famous or infamous mythos began. Smith set many tales in Hyboria which shared and helped build Howard’s Hyperborean setting where Kull, Conan and Red Sonja ran about; and he used names from Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos thus building on their renown and our knowledge of them within that crazy mixed-up universe.
Smith’s stories I must admit are not strong in plot, some of them barely even have one. Take The Abomination of Yondo, it tells of a man exiled from a harsh country into a desert known to contain horrors. We learn a little of why he was exiled but not a great deal, otherwise he simply walks on, encounters one monstrosity, continues on then encounters something so utterly terrifying he flees back to face torture and execution to escape the mad fear. Not much of a plot, but as we read it we drink in the details of the desert and its horrors, we sense the dread and the unnatural atmosphere of the place.
And that’s the key to Smith’s fiction – atmosphere. He creates the world we are reading about so vividly it really is like visiting the places ourselves. His use of language is rich and exorbitant, you may need a dictionary at times I know I did, and he clear took great delight in playing with words to build up these fantastic vistas and horrific scenes of death and worse. Make no mistake, these stories can be highly macabre, some seem to exist for no other reason than creeping you out. In that regard he was something of a successor to Poe.
I could say lots more about him of course but the best way to experience his writing is for yourself and I highly, highly recommend you do.
Keep dreaming!
He abandoned prose for some years and was a fairly successful poet. After his first published volume he was taken under the arm by George Sterling and mingled with fellow poets of the time including Ambrose Bierce.
Nowadays he’s remembered for his short fiction works which he wrote primarily for pulp magazines like Weird Tales. In fact, in terms of the ‘weird’ fiction of the pulp era he was one of the three heavyweights along with Lovecraft and Robert E Howard, and while those two may be better known these days I would argue Smith is the better writer of the group.
The ties between the three, while primarily through letters, were highly influential however as they borrowed names and ideas from each other frequently. So the building and weaving of certain famous or infamous mythos began. Smith set many tales in Hyboria which shared and helped build Howard’s Hyperborean setting where Kull, Conan and Red Sonja ran about; and he used names from Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos thus building on their renown and our knowledge of them within that crazy mixed-up universe.
Smith’s stories I must admit are not strong in plot, some of them barely even have one. Take The Abomination of Yondo, it tells of a man exiled from a harsh country into a desert known to contain horrors. We learn a little of why he was exiled but not a great deal, otherwise he simply walks on, encounters one monstrosity, continues on then encounters something so utterly terrifying he flees back to face torture and execution to escape the mad fear. Not much of a plot, but as we read it we drink in the details of the desert and its horrors, we sense the dread and the unnatural atmosphere of the place.
And that’s the key to Smith’s fiction – atmosphere. He creates the world we are reading about so vividly it really is like visiting the places ourselves. His use of language is rich and exorbitant, you may need a dictionary at times I know I did, and he clear took great delight in playing with words to build up these fantastic vistas and horrific scenes of death and worse. Make no mistake, these stories can be highly macabre, some seem to exist for no other reason than creeping you out. In that regard he was something of a successor to Poe.
I could say lots more about him of course but the best way to experience his writing is for yourself and I highly, highly recommend you do.
Keep dreaming!
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
AFP + GTO Concert - Sydney September 16, 2013
I want to say a few words about last Saturday night but I’m having a hard time finding them. In short, my wife, my teenage niece and I went to see Amanda Palmer and The Grand Theft Orchestra at The Enmore and the concert was brilliant. It was one of those nights where you can feel the energy and the positive vibes just radiating around the room. The performers were all full of life and bursting with energy and the mosh area was a wave of human activity and joyousness.
What’s more, this energy wasn’t just for Amanda and her band, it was for the support acts too. Sure it built to its fever pitch when Amanda came out to perform and almost immediately crowd-surfed, but it was pretty high even as people were gathering and DJ S… was doing her thing. So when Die R… came out to do their thing the mood was ready for fun. If only Otto and Astrid could deliver – oh wait.
So, Die Roten Punkte or The Red Spots in English, are … how does one put this? … insane? Hmm, not quite. Hilarious would be a fairer description. They’re a musical comedy duo from Germany (if you hadn’t guessed) and they treated us to punk rock treats like Burger Store Dinosaur. Their personas and relationship are worked out perfectly and there were definite times when it was hard to tell if the chaos was real or elegantly planned. The final number, which featured Amanda on double cowbell and later the GTO dancing was a riot of laughs as ’80s electro something (whatever Kraftwerk were) got a bizarre tribute at once mocking and loving.
We were then treated to two pieces by Jherek Bischoff, one third of The Grand Theft Orchestra and a composer. I admit the one thing of his I heard on YouTube was not to my liking, but these pieces were good. The first was a bass guitar solo so what’s not to love? The second was a version of something he wrote for the Kronos Quartet – which is pretty huge when you think about who they are in the Classical music world. He played it on the instrument he composed it on, the ukulele. I kid you not, he composed a string quartet on the uke – and listening to that rendition … I did not know the ukulele could sound quite like that.
Earlier in the day I’d said to my wife, ‘I wonder if they’ll play the Grand Theft Intermission as an intro while Amanda comes on stage’, so I was pretty chuffed when the band came out and started playing it. It was the beginning of an amazing set. They shot through the three biggest singles off the new album right at the front, then played a mix of older songs, covers and some Dresden Dolls numbers.
It was fascinating seeing the different dynamic of Amanda with the GTO and hearing the songs done by them as a group. I first saw her solo with some support from Mikelangelo and The Black Sea Gentlemen and they backed her up brilliantly but there was no sense of an organic whole, they were backing her up. Then I saw her with Brian Viglione as the Dresden Dolls and it was incredible how in synch they were. The Counting Crows can react in an instant to a subtle hand gesture from Adam, those two could communicate with a look.
With the GTO it was an organic whole, but more like the Counting Crows, Amanda did at times communicate with a hand gesture – I think anyway, I’m sure I saw her do it, once. But simply the instrumentation and the personalities altered the entire feel of the songs and the performance which was alive and electric. Chad on guitar was sometimes a little scary and if you don’t believe me ask the guy who copped shrapnel from a guitar when it played up, but he was right into the music. Which is how it was for them all, the music was the thing and with the waves of energy and love coming off the audience they rode that music.
I should not forget the powerhouse song by Amanda’s flat mate Mali, the vocalist for Jaggery. It was intense and rhythmic and a nice balance to the show as a whole. And her vocals during the encore performance of Sweet Dreams were amazing.
As I mentioned in my last blog Amanda did a signing after the show – why? Because she loves her fans dummy. I got separated from my wife who was in front of me in the queue, she didn’t want anything signed but had made a card for Amanda to thank her for everything she and her music has done for her. Touched, Amanda stood up, leant over the table, lightly held her head and kissed her gently on the cheek. I told you she loves her fans.
In the end I handed her my ticket because it felt silly to get up there without anything, but I just wanted to thank her and tell her it was an awesome show. She smiled and touched my arm gently in acknowledgement. I smudged the autograph within seconds but that really wasn’t the point – we have Amanda’s autograph on several things including a pair of coasters anyway. My niece did a similar thing, I don’t know what she said though – but for someone unfamiliar with Amanda’s music she seemed to have a really good night and chair danced a few times too.
So I guess I found the words, or rather they were already there I just had to start putting them down. There’s a lesson there.
I think the other lesson of the night, or something I take from Amanda in general, is that honesty and connection are powerful things. No hiding behind the shell, no hiding behind bitter resentments and negativity – that just leads to more bitterness and an endless loop of nothing actually happening and no-one being happy. Approach with honesty and love, accept people as they are and find the connection. Then magic can happen.
Keep dreaming.
What’s more, this energy wasn’t just for Amanda and her band, it was for the support acts too. Sure it built to its fever pitch when Amanda came out to perform and almost immediately crowd-surfed, but it was pretty high even as people were gathering and DJ S… was doing her thing. So when Die R… came out to do their thing the mood was ready for fun. If only Otto and Astrid could deliver – oh wait.
So, Die Roten Punkte or The Red Spots in English, are … how does one put this? … insane? Hmm, not quite. Hilarious would be a fairer description. They’re a musical comedy duo from Germany (if you hadn’t guessed) and they treated us to punk rock treats like Burger Store Dinosaur. Their personas and relationship are worked out perfectly and there were definite times when it was hard to tell if the chaos was real or elegantly planned. The final number, which featured Amanda on double cowbell and later the GTO dancing was a riot of laughs as ’80s electro something (whatever Kraftwerk were) got a bizarre tribute at once mocking and loving.
We were then treated to two pieces by Jherek Bischoff, one third of The Grand Theft Orchestra and a composer. I admit the one thing of his I heard on YouTube was not to my liking, but these pieces were good. The first was a bass guitar solo so what’s not to love? The second was a version of something he wrote for the Kronos Quartet – which is pretty huge when you think about who they are in the Classical music world. He played it on the instrument he composed it on, the ukulele. I kid you not, he composed a string quartet on the uke – and listening to that rendition … I did not know the ukulele could sound quite like that.
Earlier in the day I’d said to my wife, ‘I wonder if they’ll play the Grand Theft Intermission as an intro while Amanda comes on stage’, so I was pretty chuffed when the band came out and started playing it. It was the beginning of an amazing set. They shot through the three biggest singles off the new album right at the front, then played a mix of older songs, covers and some Dresden Dolls numbers.
It was fascinating seeing the different dynamic of Amanda with the GTO and hearing the songs done by them as a group. I first saw her solo with some support from Mikelangelo and The Black Sea Gentlemen and they backed her up brilliantly but there was no sense of an organic whole, they were backing her up. Then I saw her with Brian Viglione as the Dresden Dolls and it was incredible how in synch they were. The Counting Crows can react in an instant to a subtle hand gesture from Adam, those two could communicate with a look.
With the GTO it was an organic whole, but more like the Counting Crows, Amanda did at times communicate with a hand gesture – I think anyway, I’m sure I saw her do it, once. But simply the instrumentation and the personalities altered the entire feel of the songs and the performance which was alive and electric. Chad on guitar was sometimes a little scary and if you don’t believe me ask the guy who copped shrapnel from a guitar when it played up, but he was right into the music. Which is how it was for them all, the music was the thing and with the waves of energy and love coming off the audience they rode that music.
I should not forget the powerhouse song by Amanda’s flat mate Mali, the vocalist for Jaggery. It was intense and rhythmic and a nice balance to the show as a whole. And her vocals during the encore performance of Sweet Dreams were amazing.
As I mentioned in my last blog Amanda did a signing after the show – why? Because she loves her fans dummy. I got separated from my wife who was in front of me in the queue, she didn’t want anything signed but had made a card for Amanda to thank her for everything she and her music has done for her. Touched, Amanda stood up, leant over the table, lightly held her head and kissed her gently on the cheek. I told you she loves her fans.
In the end I handed her my ticket because it felt silly to get up there without anything, but I just wanted to thank her and tell her it was an awesome show. She smiled and touched my arm gently in acknowledgement. I smudged the autograph within seconds but that really wasn’t the point – we have Amanda’s autograph on several things including a pair of coasters anyway. My niece did a similar thing, I don’t know what she said though – but for someone unfamiliar with Amanda’s music she seemed to have a really good night and chair danced a few times too.
So I guess I found the words, or rather they were already there I just had to start putting them down. There’s a lesson there.
I think the other lesson of the night, or something I take from Amanda in general, is that honesty and connection are powerful things. No hiding behind the shell, no hiding behind bitter resentments and negativity – that just leads to more bitterness and an endless loop of nothing actually happening and no-one being happy. Approach with honesty and love, accept people as they are and find the connection. Then magic can happen.
Keep dreaming.
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