I was slowed down in the middle of the month by some medical issues, taking a very long time to read the Dunsany novel discussed below. But at least the first five novels, all related to my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery authors, went by quickly. Let us begin, as usual, with Robert Silverberg.
His next crime novel to be recently republished is called Blood on the Mink, first published in Trapped Magazine, 1959. Besides the main short novel, there are also two shorter tales. The author gives a modern afterword to his stories. The
plot has to do with a federal agent taking the identity of a criminal,
and trying to stop the flow of counterfeit cash coming out of
Philadelphia. There is a lot of tension and a lot of plot thickening in
this decent story of underworld crime and violence, which includes a few dames and
lots of shooting. It is a short novel, and I easily read it over the
course of a day. There is some humour regarding night life in Philly.
Worth a read for pulp crime fiction fans. It would make a decent noir
film, even today. Also included were:
Dangerous Doll, a story from 1960, also to do with counterfeit money. A Chicago
hoodlum is to deliver some plates, but things go wrong when he is tested
by the syndicate. He sells them down the river the first chance he
gets, but afterwards he realizes that he is out of chances.
One Night of Violence
is from 1959. An innocent Wisconsin furnace salesman involves himself
in an altercation in the motel room next to his, and soon regrets his
interference. It leads to a shootout between two Chicago gangs in the
motel and parking lot. A lively story!
In A Fortune For Kregen, we have arrived at the 21st book of the Dray Prescott series, one in which Bulmer's imagination continues to impress readers. Things
take yet another different turn in this novel from 1979. At first it seems like the same old thing, as Dray once again is
captured and becomes a slave. But soon things develop, and the adventure
we read about could easily be transferred to a Lara Croft Tomb Raider game. Dray is a slave in a large expedition that heads to a vast
underground burial site, protected by traps and wizardry, including
monsters, ghouls, walls that close in, and even stinging insects. Most
people are out for loot from the burial tombs. The underground caverns
have grown vast over the centuries, and the traps more diabolical and
dangerous. Dray just wants to get out, alive if possible. Though never
quite up to the sword and sorcery standards of Fritz Leiber, Bulmer has
created a world filled with excitement, adventure, and danger. That
includes wizardry, which takes a front seat in this story. A fun read,
and quite different from most of the other entries in this enticing
series.
The
fifth book of E C Tubb's Cap Kennedy series (he is a secret agent for Earth) is called Jewel of Jarhen, dates from 1974, and is a brief 111 pages. It features a
good opening chapter, as the cruel leader of a medieval-type world is
killed while on a hunt, and his more rational younger brother has to
take over. The title jewel itself is quite intriguing, and forms the
central plot line of the story, nicely mixing science with sorcery. Cap and his boys are charged with a
diplomatic mission, even though they are warriors rather than
diplomats. This puts a different spin on the story as well. Science
and magic and superstition meet on the planet Jarhen, as three
civilizations compete for the right to trade with the backward planet
and help it along its course of growth. When the previous Earth
diplomat is found drowned in his bed, far from any water, Cap is called
in. Good thing Cap can swim. How did someone drown when they weren't
near water? Read this fun pulp adventure story to find out.
Barry Malzberg's (writing as Mike Barry) Peruvian Nightmare is from 1974 and is 137 pages long. The
story picks up directly after #6 in this series, about a lone wolf out
to exterminate the North American drug trade after his girlfriend was
killed by an overdose. Burt Wulf lands in Peru, where he is trapped in a
large hotel. The bad guy from book 6, Calabrese, just wanted Wulf out
of the country and out of his hair, but realizes too late that he should
have had him killed instead. Wulf is helped out by the hotel owner, who
has a little job for him, and who promises to get him out of the
country at the same time. Book 7 includes a narrative recap of many of
the events that happened in earlier books, but finally gives us some
details about his relationship with his deceased girlfriend. The book
spends a lot of time inside Wulf's head, and the on-going killings, still a
goodly number of them, seem to take a backseat to the man's
introspective life. In Peru Wulf takes a bus to Cuzco, where his bus is
ambushed by Calabrese's men. He is ambushed again at the climax of the
novel, on a narrow ledge along a high mountain trail. The death of two
horses in this scene is very unpleasant, and is treated in a
thoughtless and mostly carefree way. Kill all the bad people that you
want, but leave the animals alone, svp. We are now halfway through the
series, and so far Malzberg is able to make each story not only
different, but interesting and mostly fun to read. Let's hope that Wulf
succeeds in eliminating the drug trade, and that in 2024 there will not
be anymore overdose deaths (add heavy sarcasm to preceding statement).
Lastly from SF writers comes James Blish's More Issues At Hand. Blish's
second group of essays dates from the late 1950s to 1970. There is
more focus here on single novels, rather than shorter stories. I find
myself disagreeing with Blish much of the time, though he speaks many
truths and bursts many bubbles. He seems, to put it bluntly, to be an old
fogey. I do not blame him for trying to raise the standard of SF
literature, and for blasting poor writing. He blames writers, editors,
and readers for the problems. Why does some real drivel get published,
and why does some of it even win coveted awards? Well, Mr. Blish, the
universe is filled with mysteries, many of which will never get solved.
Why do voters vote for criminal and psychotic politicians? Why do
people eat tons of junk food every day? Why do hideous billboards
appear on highways that have beautiful natural scenery? Why do so many women
marry male crumb bums? I could go on. There isn't much that Blish can
do about it, except insult writers and make enemies of them, which he
seems to have done rather well. Among his other incisions, he tears
apart the British New Wave SF writers, often with very prescient
comments. I agree with much of what he says here, but what's done is
done. He loves SF literature, but never once mentions the many horrible
SF movies that helped lower the bar even further for writers. For most
people, SF means monsters, aliens, and flying saucers, all threatening
our existence (are you listening, Dr. Who?) instead of well plotted
stories about characters dealing with some form of science problem. He
blames SF writers for trying out new forms, ones which have been
prevalent in regular literature for decades. Since many writers never
come to terms with Joyce's writing, nor even attempt to, why belittle SF
writers when they try something new in the genre that has never before
been done here? Even failures have their value, providing that the writer and
others can learn something from them. Sometimes he swill rip apart a
story without even saying why, though most of the time he gives his
reasons for disliking a book. While some may boil and fume at Blish's
criticism, at the time he was only one of two writers even doing such a
thing. Overall, like the first book, this one is well worth reading for
SF fans, especially if well read in others areas of literature. Highly
recommended. (The second SF writer to turn critic was Damon Knight--I have seen purchased his book of such from Kindle).
Now comes the free reading period of the month, when nearly anything can turn up. First up was Curse of the Wise Woman by Lord Dunsany, from 1933. This is a very special book only to those who have known a piece of land well, and been changed and formed by it. The Sudbury landscape where I grew up is now completely changed, though for the better. Still, I cannot return here and see what I saw growing up. The bare rocks have now sprouted forests, and Sudbury is now green instead of black. Lake Penage, where our summer camp was located, probably shaped me as a person just as much. Though the landscape remains much the same, since we sold the camp I can never go back. My third major influence from the land was New Mexico, with deserts and alpine mountains in heaping quantities. Much of it remains unchanged, and I am free to visit whenever I can. Those three landscapes--early Sudbury, Penage, and certain parts of New Mexico will always be with me, even if I cannot always be with them (the former, never again). Anyone with similar experiences will understand Dunsany's book, and his attempt to show one young man's connection to a vast Irish bog that is about to undergo transforming development from an English peat company. All that stands in their way is an Irish witch. This is a story with deep, deep roots in the land, and despite the person being a 'sportsman', the message still comes across loud and clear. Will the witch be able to save the bog from developers, or will it be lost for all time. It would be a spoiler to tell, but the ending and the story isn't was this book is about--it's about the land. A masterpiece.
T. S. Eliot's Poems 1920 contains 12 poems written up to that year. Like most Eliot poetry, the surface seems easy to read, but understanding the inner meaning of words and phrases is beyond most casual readers, including this one. To make matters more difficult, 4 of the poems are entirely in French! What is a reader to do? In my case, Genius.com came to the rescue. This site not only will translate back to English, but will carefully annotate and explain the poem, often line by line. I found it invaluable in understanding the meaning and relevance of the poem. Two favourite poems for this reader were the incomparable "Hippopotamus", where a hippo's life is compared to that of the Church. Biting satire at its finest, not to mention quite funny. The other is "Dans le Restaurant", one of the French poems. Chilling and somewhat mystifying. The poem ends with an early version of Death By Water (written for a good friend killed in the Gallipoli fiasco.
Next came three novellas by Gogol, contained in a volume entitle Arabesques, from 1935. The first is called The Portrait, and is a lesson for writers in how to tell a good story. It is a supernatural tale, but one that could also be explained in more rational ways. In two parts, the first part tells how the purchase of a portrait in a junk shop alters the life of a young artist, in mostly negative ways. In the 2nd part we learn about the artist who painted the portrait, and the man depicted in the picture. Though not a hair raising tale and not likely to appeal to fans of Stephen King, it is an extremely well crafted story. All the information required for readers is eventually given out in Part 2, and after experiencing Part 1, we can make our own judgment of whether or not "the devil' was involved. An excellent read.
Nevsky Prospekt was next. The exposition is dedicated to detailing the life of the famous street in St. Petersburg from dawn to dawn. Then the author begins to tell his story, which is actually two stories. Two young men, one an artist and one a lieutenant each follow a different beautiful woman they encounter on the boulevard. The two stories and their outcomes are very different, the second perhaps more unexpected than the first. These are the kinds of stories that could have produced an entire volume unto themselves based around that street, and perhaps Gogol had such an idea in mind. But the second story ends so abruptly that it seems as if he tired of the idea and wanted to move on. Not nearly as satisfying as the first story.
Third and finally came Diary of a Madman. Some people might actually read this thinking that it is a comedy. Though not exactly a case study for madness, it does get the idea across of how delusions, often of grandeur, accompany some forms of madness, as well as auditory hallucinations. The wretched clerk in the story is pretty far gone before the story proceeds very far. The most entertaining part of the story for this reader was the dialogue and letters between two lap dogs. But the story becomes more and more horrifying as it proceeds. Definitely a unique story for its time. In the present, the streets are where many schizophrenic people end up. Back then it was in an institution, where treatment was so often brutal and inhuman.
Anna Katherine Green's The Sword of Damocles is her third novel and is from 1881. It is an epic tale, well planned, and divided into five books. The fun of reading books about love, courtship, and honour from the 1800s is to undertake it like an expedition in archaeology. What was it like back then for middle and upper class people to get married? What was expected of the man? Was it all up to the father of the bride? All these questions and more will be answered when a book such as this is read. Besides the love interest of two couples, there is a mystery or two to be solved, including the mysterious reason for Mr. Sylvester's clouded brow. There is also a type of bank robbery, which casts doubt on the character of one of the young suitors. Though it is a long novel, it is an easy read. Occasionally the story itself is interrupted while one of the characters relates a background story. One of the interesting things about the book, which proves its careful planning, is that virtually every character one meets has a crucial role to play, sometimes much alter in the story. Just what is the sword that figuratively hangs over the head of Mr. Sylvester? Nothing much, by today's criminal and moral standards. But back then it was enough to ruin a man's reputation, and cause him to lose the woman he loves. Overall it is quite a good novel, and well suited for adaptation to a TV series.
We are watching a crime and mystery literature course on The Great Courses. This is a very thorough investigation of the genre, beginning with its creator Edgar Allen Poe, through much of Conan Doyle's creation, Sherlock Holmes, delving deeply into Agatha Christie's contributions, continuing on through the American hard boiled detective years of the 1930s, right up to contemporary writers. One of the episodes spent a lot of time discussing dime novel detectives. These stories sprang up in the 1800s between the time of Poe's three detective stories and those of Conan Doyle. One of the most prolific writers of that time, and one which had a huge influence on later detective fiction, went under the by-line of The Old Sleuth, AKA Harlan Page Halsey. He wrote hundreds of dime novel mysteries back in the 1880s. I read #12, called The Twin Detectives, or The Missing Heiress, from August 1885. Written well before Conan Doyle's Holmes stories, I was surprised how many little connections there were between the two. Doyle was obviously a fan of dime novel detective stories before he set out on his own enterprise. The dime novels originate in the US, and it is interesting to note that the first Holmes and Watson novel takes place there. In this story, the detective has to find a missing man and the person to whom he left a fortune. He has very little to go on, and we follow this brilliant man from step to step as he pieces the puzzle together, one step at a time. There is considerable humour in the story, as well as tragedy and sadness. His method of extracting information from people is one similar to one that Holmes uses, and at one point in the story, after telling his client how he ingeniously figured out one part of the puzzle, the client replies that he guesses that being a detective isn't so difficult after all. Doyle used this quite often in the Holmes stories, with Watson claiming that solving the puzzle was rather easy, after the fact. I have six more of these short novels on hand, and will likely get through them over the next few months.
Finally came the 17th novel in the Doc Savage series, called The Thousand-Headed Man. From July 1934, it was written by Lester Dent, a prolific author who wrote over 159 novels. The book cover gives the house name of Kenneth Robeson as the writer. When I read these books as a young teen, I was completely unaware of any racism in the stories. Doc went after bad guys (or they went after him), and they battled it out with guns and wits until Doc finally got the upper hand. This book has an Oriental bad guy, and some of the worst racism I have ever come across fills the pages. The dialogue consists of the Chinese men speaking in that horrendous English that writers often used back in the day, and it is truly cringe worthy. One fun part of the book is that the early part takes place in London, with Doc arriving on the scene to awaiting crowds at Croydon Airfield. Once the story takes off, literally, and Doc and his comrades fly to Indochina, Dent is at his pulp writing best. Into the jungle we go, finding lost and isolated pagoda temples and, finally, a vast abandoned city. The city holds a great mystery, and even Doc is captured and taken prisoner. But not for long. Escape for him and the people he has come to rescue seems impossible. Can he do it? Dent has a good eye for detail, and after allowing the creation of numerous mystical-seeming events, explains everything by the end. Except for the racist attitudes to Orientals, the adventure itself is quite a good one. This reader is a sucker for lost jungle cities and the secrets they hold.
Mapman Mike
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