Though a long month of 31 days, October was a short one for the reading program. I took the Silverberg novel with my on a recent 8-day trip, but read very little. When we returned home I was sick with a bad cold, and kept falling asleep each time I tried to read. So I didn't even get the five Avon/Equinox authors' books read until October 19th, when I finally began my "free" reading period. After that, I managed three books, the last one being very long.
Like
the late writings of Jack Williamson, the late writings of Robert
Silverberg are not to be missed. The man is on a roll, big time. From
1994 comes Hot Sky At Midnight, at 388 pages. At its heart it is
an ecological story about humans destroying the Earth (can that really
happen?). But the novel has more than one heart. It is also a
futuristic retelling of Lord Jim, one of Conrad's finest novels.
Paul Carpenter goes through many iterations in this, his story. We
meet him as a Level 11 salary weatherman in Spokane (Level 20 being the
lowest on the grid). He gets a unique offer to be captain of a boat out
of San Francisco. He is sick of Spokane, and accepts the reprogramming
involved with the job transfer. He
messes up terribly on his first voyage, and is actually fired by his
corporation, something that is virtually unheard of at his rank.
It's
difficult to say what exactly makes this book worth reading, but I
would have to say it is the very accurate picture of what Earth will
resemble in not too many years. The only other SF novel that rivals it
for potential accuracy is Norman Spinrad's unforgettable Greenhouse Summer,
an even more cynical look at our chosen future. SF often gets it wrong
when it comes to future predictions. However, when an author gets it
right, the reader can feel the truth emerging in every single page.
Perhaps not the masterpiece to compare with Conrad, but this is a
damn fine book that should scare the hell out of every person alive
today. Especially if you are young.
From
1977 comes the final book written about Commander Abernathy Fox. That
is one of the saddest statements I have ever written in this blog.
This is #14, called Close Quarters. Captain Fox, of the British Navy, is doing more than his part to help
his country defeat Napoleon. In fact, I doubt the British would have
ever won had it not been for Mr. Fox. The 148 page finale was not
supposed to be the last book, but alas, it was. Fox sets sail in his
repaired ship for England, part of a large convoy headed by his nemesis,
Captain Stone. I had always hoped to see Fox get even with that
blackguard captain, but I will never get that pleasure. Nor will
faithful readers get to see Fox promoted to full Captain, something he
deserved many books ago but never received. This
book is typical of the adventures Fox and his loyal crews have faced
since the beginning of the series, with one big exception; this time we
get to see Fox capture and ride in a primitive submarine! Science fiction?
Nope. Bulmer is relying on actual attempts to use underwater technology
in battles from the time, and he came up with a workable solution.
Despite its many flaws, Fox used it twice for successful outcomes on his
behalf. A nice touch in this otherwise standard Fox adventure.
There
is a bright gleam of hopeful light at the end, however. Fox has
rescued two British merchant ships from Spanish pirates, and one of them was carrying many grateful
VIPs. It seems a given that he will be rewarded when back on English
soil. And he has brought back the captive submarine and its French
inventor and his crew. The admiralty should be rewarding him, also. If
only there had been a Book 15. We have suffered Fox's indignities
along with him, and deserved to be rewarded nearly as much as he did.
The Scourge of the South by E. C. Tubb is the 3rd western of his (of 11) I have read. Short, packed with action, I again must admire him for trying to depict Native Americans as real people, with their own beliefs and ways of doing things. A young boy is kidnapped from a wagon train attack by the Sioux, and raised as their own. He becomes a warrior and eventually must choose between living with the Sioux and fighting the white man, or returning to his roots and fighting for the rights of Natives that way. A pretty good read, with many truths included, including the way Indians considered war, and how the white man killed the buffalo, thus killing the way of life for Indians.
Next came a group of shorter stories by Michael Moorock, Fabulous Harbors, loosely connected by family and place Von Becks, in London). Two of the stories, both very good ones, had been read in previous volumes. Of the newer stories, most are pretty middle of the road as far as fantasy literature goes. One major exception is "No Ordinary Christian," from 1995. It
is the kind of story that one might dream, forgetting much of it next
morning. The Albino features, as do the old Egyptian gods and Aton, the
new god. A desert oasis provides the most interesting backdrop so far
in this volume. Recommended. From the previously read tales, "The Black Blade's Summoning" also stands out. It is an Elric tale, where he meets up with one of the Von Becks.
Another Burt Wulff (The Lone Wolf) book, #2 of 14, was read. Bay Prowler is from 1973, the 2nd of ten such books Malzberg wrote within one year to fulfill a contract. He continues his annihilation of the drug traffickers, this time in San Francisco. But he meets a girl who restores some of his humanity and sanity, at least briefly. He gets to blow up a ship and take out more mid-level crooks. Next time he is off to Boston, to do some more damage. Pulp fiction at its bloodiest.
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One
of the pleasures of visiting downtown Cincinnati is stopping in at Ohio
Bookstore, a used book store almost in the same league as John King in
Detroit. Four floors of books await, and it would be too easy to spend
hours in here. Years ago I found several books I needed for my
Avon/Equinox project. On my most recent visit here in late September, I
was searching for Low Company, by Daniel Fuchs. They had no books
by Fuchs. However, searching nearby "Fs", I came across a little
hardcover book by Bruno Frank. The Days of the King is a
fictional novel based on Frederick the Great in his old age. With a
forward by Sinclair Lewis, and dozens of illustrations by Adolph Menzel,
it was a bargain I couldn't refuse. I wasn't even certain that I would
read it, but the art inside was amazing.
The book is in three parts, with each revealing something important about the character of the King. We learn that he is a humanist, an animal lover, a musician and champion of the arts, and a champion of the poor and working class people. We also learn about his loneliness, his losing his manhood to incompetent doctors at age 27, and the many cruel rumours about him that spread, including that he was gay (he wasn't) and that he had sex with his female dogs (he didn't). The writing is pure and the three episodes are lovingly told. This is history the way most people would love to hear and read it. The scene at the apothecary shop, where Frederick stops over for a night being very ill, reveals truths about medical treatment of troops back in the day, is chilling to read and think about. His love of animals, especially his horses and his small Italian greyhounds could only be truly understood by a fellow animal lover. This chance discovery turned into a very good read, and a most memorable one.
I finally located a paperback copy of Low Company, a novel by Daniel Fuchs. I found it on Abe Books website, and promptly ordered it. It came from nearby (Kitchener), and only took a few days. From 1937, it was Barry Malzberg's pick for best novel of the 1930s. It is the last one that he recommended I have read (20s through 70s--see my blog article for February 2023 books read, published here March 1st). Fuchs only wrote three novels, and this last one, considered his best, only had a run of 1200 when it first came out. Virtually forgotten until rediscovered in the 1960s, my edition has a new preface by the author written in 1961. The book is very claustrophobic. There are few characters, mostly Jewish, and most of the action takes places at Neptune Beach, now better known as Coney Island. An aging Jewish man runs an ice cream parlour. He is the most stereotypical Jewish business man one could ever hope to meet. He is a Woody Allen in perpetual crisis and misery. Yes, he is a humourous character, but he is also one of the most tragic figures in literature. His employees and a few regular customers make up the cast of characters, and they are characters. Shorty, the regular soda jerk, is hot after women. Arthur, the dishwasher, is a young lad who yearns to be a man. His is one of the saddest outcomes in the novel. Karty, a customer, was once an accountant, but has been lured to his doom by betting on horses. He has stolen $1300 from his wife's brothers' garage, and they are out to get him. Shubunka, in business with the owner of the parlour who rents out apartments to Shubunka's whores, is being squeezed out of his shady business by a new heavy handed crime syndicate invading New York. He is perhaps the oddest character in the book, obsessed with his self image, always looking in the mirror to see if he is expressing emotion properly. When reality finally does bite him, he is bitten hard.
The title refers to the lowlife that work and inhabit the streets around Neptune Beach. Here is a quote from page 166 of my Berkley Medallion edition. "This was Neptune Beach, Lurie [the horse race victim] cried to himself, lacking dignity, lacking spirit and feeling, concentrated wholly on desire and the process of its satisfaction, abject and mean." There is no major male character in the book with redeeming qualities. It is a grim world, a kind of purgatory, much of it brought on by the multitude of bad choices the characters continually make, including lying to themselves and others over and over again. The irony is heavy at all times, and at no time heavier than the last line of the book. This is fascinating reading, and it's hard to put the book down, especially when the plot begins to come together in the last section. A truly neglected classic. Highly recommended.
Adela Cathcart (1864) by George MacDonald contains several short tales within the framework of a novel. In fact, it's easier to think of this very long book as a collection of stories, rather than a novel. The stories are told by various people over the Christmas holiday period, including two by the narrator, "John Smith." The first of his tales is one of the finest, a fairy tale called "The Light Princess," about a princess who has a spell cast upon her by her evil aunt. The spell removes the young lady's gravity, causing her to float up rather than stay anchored to the ground like the rest of us. This is a wonderful tale, easily pulled from the pack and able to stand on its own. The storytelling hour after dinner is conceived by the narrator, Adela's uncle, to lift her mood. She has fallen into a sickness of the spirit, and, at 21, seems destined to a life of dullness and routine, and perhaps marriage to a cousin for whom she has little to no feelings whatsoever. A very few of the remaining ten or so stories are memorable. The more Christianity inserted into a tale,the less memorable that tale becomes. "The Cruel Painter," told by the young doctor now looking after Adela's health, is also a very good tale, one of those supernatural tales (vampires and such) that really has no supernatural elements to it at all. This one would make a great little horror film. The second tale of John Smith, the narrator, is also fun and truly bizarre, and is called "The Shadows." It would best be handled by animation, and could be pretty impressive as such. Remove all the overt Christianity and the book is filled with some wonderful stories.
Mapman Mike
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