"By the Seven!"

I have just finished reading Lin Carter's Thongor and the Wizard of Lumeria in which Thongor continually swears "By the Nineteen!" But,   other than Father Grom, none of the gods of Lumeria are ever mentioned. So, I was thinking I would research the nineteen gods of Lumeria. I know they are all documented out here on the entree-net and in the various Lumeria frpg books.

However, before I got very far with the research, I got another idea. I'll just barrow a well known group of seven fair tale characters and make them members of my pantheon. Everyone knows this group. I'll just change the names and circumstances too fit their new status as immortals and world builders. Below I have listed The Seven by their fair tale names and their new godly labels.

Bashful -- The Youth: God of adolescence, young brides and Spring.
Doc       -- The Healer: God of nature, birth, healing, health and harvest.
Dopey   --  The Dullard: God of children, addicts and the simple minded.
Grumpy -- The Elder: God of Time, change, disappointment, anger and old age.
Happy    -- Happiness: God of pleasure, celebration and Summer.
Sleepy    -- The Sleeper:  God of Winter, night, dreams, laziness and death.
Sneezy   -- The Plague: God of illness, Fall, etc.

Without their fantasy names, the origin of the Seven may remain a mystery for a while. Unless, of course, you read it on the Polyhedral Dice Bag.

Sturgeon vs. Bradbury

I would be hard pressed to define classic Sci-fi Lit. any better than simply referencing Theodore (Ted) Sturgeon who was a Pulp Era Sci-fi writer and early television and film writer. Besides his pulp contributions, Sturgeon is probably best known as a writer for the Original Star Trek series. Sturgeon in Orbit is a collection of five stores published originally from 1951 to 1955 in Fantastic Adventure, Planet Stories, Fantastic, Startling and Other Worlds magazines.

These five tales which transcend most Pulp Sci-Fi,  are more than adventure stories. Sturgeon explores the nature of humanity and the essential function of human relations through this collection. The first example, Extrapolation (Fantastic, 1953), begins as a tale of loneliness. Wolf Reger was a man so intelligent that he is almost prophetic. He "had so many talents that they were past enumerating."  Reger could master science, math and engineering. He could predict actions and reactions, or extrapolate, for every invention he created.  Reger's weakness was his relationship with humanity.  In fact, their ignorance and lack of foresight  would occasionally drive Reger into a rage. For this reason he could not work or live near his fellow humans. He lived alone until discovering a women who had attempted suicide who he nursed back to health and married. Reger's reformed attitude of humanity, based on his new romantic love, leads him to save humanity from an alien invasion. Isn't that the basis for most pulp era Sci-fi tales?

In the introduction to Sturgeon's novel Godbody, Robert Heinlein wrote that  Sturgeon's message was that he loved us all. The same can be said of Sturgeon in Orbit as each of the stories is about humanity and science. I believe that few would argue that Ray Bradbury loved us too. Anyone who would write a novel in defense of artistic expression and preservation of knowledge and creativity like Fahrenheit 451 obviously cares.

I have just finished reading The Martian Chronicles which also is an expression of Bradbury's concern for humanity. As well as, his concern for unbridled bureaucracy and technology and the failure of the use of basic common sense. This concern is no less relevant sixty-five years after The Martian Chronicles began to be published.

When I begin to read the work's of Sturgeon or Bradbury, I am not seeking an investigation into the nature of human civilization but this is how these men approached their art. I  would choose Fahrenheit 451 over The Martian Chronicles if reading for pleasure. I will add, about The Martian Chronicles, it is a bizarre book when the passages I enjoy most are an homage to The Fall of the House of Usher and a piece about the opening of the first Hot Dog Stand on Mars.

Catching up with Gardner Fox.

As usual, I have shelves full of old Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels and, in the interest of Spring Cleaning, I have been thinning the herd. I have most recently read these two books by Gardner Fox.

Kyrik: Warlock Warrior; This one is pretty racy, sexy for a tale that was first published in the 1950s. It is "in the tradition of Conan" but I've never read anything this sexy from R.E.H. Perhaps De Camp edited all the sex out? Oh, it appears Kyrik was published in 1975, thus the sexually liberated nature of the content.

The Hunter Out of Time is Pulp Sci-Fi at it's, often disjointed and illogical best. This twisted time travel tale reminded me of the writing style of Lionel Fanthorpe. Which certainly is not meant as an insult to Gardner Fox, whose literary achievements speak for themselves. 
                                

Both books were great fun and true testaments to sunny days and the simple pleasure and relaxation of reading.

Lin Carter's Year's Best Fantasy Stories Vol. 1

I am a sucker for these old Lin Carter anthologies. They contain the best of, at least, three generations of Fantasy Fiction. The first two volumes both contain tales by Robert E. Howard and Clark Ashton Smith. Both volumes have new or rare material from Fritz Leiber, L. Sprague de Camp, Jack Vance and Carter. The tales which I often enjoy most are from the young writers of the time. Vol. 1 of The Year's Best Fantasy Stories features newcomers Pat McIntosh and Charles R Saunders. There is also a piece of lost history of Middle Earth as told by Marrion Zimmer Bradley, The Sword of Dyrnwyn by Lloyd Alexander and a posthumous work by Hans Bok. Every sentence is classic, enduring fantasy enjoyment and most of these folks are listed as inspirational reading in Appendix N of the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: Dungeon Master's Guide.

2014 was a quest of personal accomplishment for me which I have completed with success. I am now free of the literal and proverbial text books, free to read any smut, pulp or trash that I may like. And free to wonder the wastelands of fantasy role playing enthusiasts, a journey I hope to renew and share the travels of the polyhedral dice bag. 

Further Adventures with Lionel Fanthorpe

What is it about this Post-Pulp fiction that I am so fond of? I believe it is light, quick and enjoyable nature of these little novels that hold my interest. I've just started reading Orbit One by Lionel Fanthorpe and it is, at least, as light as Time Echo.

In the first thirty pages of Orbit One there is little to distinguish the book as a Science Fiction story. So far, the plot revolves around four central characters, one of which has just committed suicide, as far as we know. This could be any pulp mystery or espionage novel set around a corrupt director who stages a suicide to escape his corporate crimes.

The act that appears to be suicide, Director Fletcher Starbuck, who was an excellent pilot, wrecked his personal star ship. Other main characters are the chief investigator, a long time co-worker and friend of Starbuck, and Starbuck's second in command who will be come the new director once the mysterious events are resolved.

So, the setting; a colonial experiment on a distant planet. Other elements that hint at sci-fi are; hover craft and personal rocket-ships. These three elements alone base Orbit One in Science Fiction or I'd be reading  any ol' espionage novel. I'm not sure what I expect out of the first thirty pages of a book?

Time Echo by Lionel Fanthorpe

The "splash" or "tag line" for Time Echo reads, "Out of the gray mist vague shapes were forming." Here's some gray mist for ya, I've devised my own category for these old paperbacks, which are not old enough to fit in the Pulp Fiction category, I call them Post-Pulp. The whole lot of them, the second generation Fantasy and  Sci-Fi writers, Fanthorpe, Carter, Stableford, they're all Post-Pulp.

Fanthorpe's the pulpiest of them all, his work borders on the Action-Adventure genre which isn't, normally, on my reading list. Time Echo has a simple enough plot; set in the year 2309, protagonist, Mike Grafton, flees the forces of dictator Rajak the Magnificent and stumbles into a time-machine during his escape. That stumble into the time machine is where Fanthorpe begins to work his pulpy magic, or the art of the vague gray mist. Grafton goes back in time to 1809 and Fanthorpe's backdrop is now, conveniently, the Napoleonic campaign. Fanthorpe doesn't pass up the opportunity to give us a four page biography of Napoleon's rise to military power. 

This book is only 144 pages long and, by page 88, I could not see Fanthorpe resolving his plot at the finish line. This tale reads like a writing experiment in character development. Each character introduced to the story gets many pages dedicated to their physical, psychological and emotional investment in the plot. This technique doesn't progress, enrich or support the plot line but, does add to Fanthorpe's word count and leaves the book wide open for plot flaws.

The most outstanding flaw in Time Echo is this line, "This was more that the art of any Houdini." Vague gray mist and all, this phrase is used by an Englishman, a native to the 19th Century,  seventy years before Houdini was born.

Fanthorpe spends about twenty-five pages each introducing the four central characters of the tale. Then, he ties up the plot with his trademark psychedelic scene. In a chapter titled "Realm of Insanity" two of the main characters enter a dimensional travel device, or vehicle, too, again, escape the security forces of Rajak the Magnificent. The dimensional travel device is, of course, untested but should take the passengers to an alternate Earth. Instead, it takes them on a seemly unending ride in the Tardis where a kaleidoscope of colors serves as a backdrop for multiple alien images and scenery. Due to a short circuit, the passengers eventually return  to their own dimension and time, Earth, 2903.

There is a lovable quality to Fanthorpe's work, a child like simplicity in the stories which don't require a basis in logic. Lists of random items seem to compose his tales; time travel, the Napoleonic Era and George Orwell's Eurasia all stew into a "time echo." The setting, 2309: Eurasia, could be the far future of Orwell's 1984 which Fanthorpe pays homage to in the following lines, "What, the cigarettes? ... These are only cheap ones; the good ones, now, that's what I call a smoke, but you can't get them unless you’re a member of the inner party." 

Inner Party member or no, Fanthorpe's many books are fun, relaxing reads emphasizing the occasional simple joy of a twisted, chaotic plot line.