July Reading Summary

July was a fairly good month for reading.  It was too hot and humid to do much outdoors, though I did get four wonderful nights of observing with the 12" scope.  This took four nights away from my reading, but overall there were so many medical appointments between us that I got to read a lot in waiting rooms.  I continue to give Moorcock's fiction a rest, so my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery project only features two authors now: E C Tubb with two on-going SF series, and Kenneth Bulmer with one Fantasy series.

Seg The Bowman is from 1984 and is 142 pages long, not including the final glossary.  This completes the Pandahem Cycle Part 2 of the Dray Prescott series.   In this story we get Seg's side of the story after he and Dray were separated at the end of Volume 29.  29, 30, and 32 detail Dray's adventures, while #32 tells Seg's story.  Seg has rescued who he believes is the Queen's handmaiden, and pledges to deliver her safely back to her home.  The King and Queen were killed in the cave adventure (#28).  Seg's adventures pretty much mirror the kind of things that usually happen to Dray, and Seg is pretty much the same hero type as well.  Other than his romantic interest in Tilsi, we could pretty much substitute Dray in this adventure.  This is unfortunate.  At least the volume about Deliah's adventures provided contrast to the adventure series.  New characters are introduced, both good and bad.  There are prisons, escapes, injustices, creatures and a battle.  Two pygmy forest natives add some zest to the proceedings, as they wish to escape the jungle and assimilate into the outer world.  A good entry in the series, but there is very little that is very new.  Seg makes a landmark bow shot and marries Tilsi, who, it turns out, really was the Queen after all. 

Cover art by Ken W Kelly, from vol. 32 of the series. 

 

Jack of Swords is #14 from the Dumarest series by E C Tubb.  It is from 1976 and is 152 pages long.  I am continually amazed at how pulp writers of Tubb's quality can continually reinvent the Dumarest myth.  Take the same character, plunk him into similar situations and often facing the same type of enemy, and make it a readable offering.  Tubb and Bulmer both do it over and over, and while the stories do vary somewhat in quality, overall they maintain a high enough standard to make readers continue buying the books.  Having said that, I wish both series were over and I could get on with more literary aspects of my reading and reviewing project.  But like a comfortable bed one returns to gladly night after night, these stories continue to provide just enough interest and quality to keep readers like me going. 

In the latest adventure Dumarest is hired on as bodyguard to a merchant seeking out the Ghost Planet, called Balhadorha.  A mythical world, it offers those can find it the promise of untold riches.  As a result, a lot of rather greedy people go seeking this dangerous world.  We end up on a truly alien planet with a city that is seemingly unreachable from without its walls.  But our intrepid explorers, thanks to Dumarest's help, manage to get inside.  I love these kind of SF stories, where strange uninhabited futuristic cities from a distant past lure the explorer and reader ever deeper into its mysteries.  This one doesn't disappoint, and while it is true that a lot of what was promised could be delivered by this strange world, in the end no one risks their life to find out if true happiness ever would be achieved by partaking in the strange mist (a la H. Rider Haggard) except for one old and very sick woman who has nothing to lose.  Another decent entry in the series, though Dumarest's goal of finding out more about Earth's location comes to nothing.

 

Original 1976 cover by Tom Barber.

I read the Kindle edition. 

 

Once again I am giving Michael Moorcock a miss this month, so it's now on to the Delphi Classics!  First up was Sherwood Anderson's 3rd novel, called Poor White. From 1920 it is a long and somewhat meandering look at the late coming industrial revolution to the quiet towns and byways of middle America.  With the railroads well in place, industry was confined to the major cities for many years.  Bidwell was a typical quiet Ohio town until Hugh McVey arrived.  McVey grew up poor along the Mississippi River in Missouri south of St. Louis, with a drunk for a father.  Hugh was a dreamer and destined to sleep his life away and become nothing more than another poor white without a dream to follow.  But he is given a job at a small railroad depot and taken in by the husband and wife who manage it.  The wife eventually educates Hugh so he can read and write, and instills in him a work ethic that goes against his nature.  He struggles to keep focused on getting ahead.  When the couple move away Hugh takes over the station, eventually moving on to Bidwell in the northeast of his home.

A newer long segment then introduces us to Clara Butterworth, whose father believes himself to be a big man in Bidwell.  He and Clara do not get along and she eventually completes three years of college in Columbus, where her mind is expanded, especially by a female friend she makes there.  When she returns to Bidwell things are stirring, and industry has finally arrived.  Hugh has turned out to be an inventor, and his patents soon make him a wealthy man.  His painful shyness, however, will not allow him to make any male friends, and he cannot even look at a woman, let along speak to her.  

Later episodes deal with the strange marriage between Hugh and Clara, until at last she gains an understanding of him and he learns to trust her.  More than anything this is a story of industry coming to sleepy parts of the Midwest.  Farms and orchards disappear to make way for factories, and by the end of the novel there are motor cars speeding along the dirt roads.  The author has a true grasp of the situation and how it affected small towns, turning them almost overnight into powerhouses of industry and innovation, with Ohio at the centre of much of it.  The novel is a good read, despite the frustratingly shy and insecure character of Hugh.  At least we get a break from him as Anderson explores many other characters in his story besides Hugh and Clara.  America was just beginning its great love affair with "progress" and industry and power, at the cost of Nature and Humanity, as Anderson so deftly illustrates.

 

J K Bangs' Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica is from 1895.  Try to imagine if Dave Barry or some such funny man had written a general biography of Napoleon.  Bang's finds humour everywhere, and does historically cover all the main events of Bonaparte's very eventful life.  While the humour is often dry and relies heavily on puns, it is still quite readable and seems very modern.  I would not wish to use quotes in a scholarly paper, but it makes for fun history reading aimed at the general public.  If one knew nothing about Napoleon before reading this book, one can come away with important dates and events secure, at least.  The rest is pure stand up comedy.

 

J. M. Barrie's When A Man's Single was first published in 1888.  All the ingredients of a late Victorian novel are here.  A handsome and ambitious small village Scotsman wishes to become a reporter.  Angus meets Mary and his life turns upside down.  She is a sizable station above him in British class life.  She loves Angus but is destined to marry a baronet whom she does not love.  A wilful father will not have things turn out differently for his only daughter.  Angus moves to London after hearing of Mary's engagement (which never happened), and after months of hard work gets himself a position in Fleet Street.  Will Mary have him now?  Will her father give way?  Does anyone really care?  Well, actually, yes.  Barrie is fast becoming a very good writer, and his characters are often unique (Mary's older brother, for one).  His pages have humour, despite a very tragic opening chapter (Mary's younger brother, for example).  As it it is not a long novel (one volume instead of the expected three) I can recommend it.  After reading the opening chapter I was reminded of a longer musical piece by The Chieftains called "The Lost Child."  If you've never heard it, give it a listen.

 

 The Gates of Wrath is a novel by Arnold Bennett from 1903.  It is a tale of crime and passion and madness, quite a fun read for the most part.  A widower, her older male friend and her 18 year old daughter (also a widower) scheme to steal a fortune from a young man, left to him by his father but as yet unknown to him.  First, the young one marries him.  Then they get him to make out a will leaving everything to her.  Then they tell him about his inheritance, expecting him to be overjoyed.  Afterwards, they plan to kill him.  The plotters remind me a lot of Boris and Natasha from the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show.  Each time they begin to enact their dastardly plans, they are foiled in one way or another.  Firstly, the young man already knows about his inheritance but has no wish to claim it.  Secondly, the young woman falls in love with him, eventually spilling the beans about her evil mother and her plot.  It is a short novel but certainly readable.  Some fun steam train passages, too.

 

Algernon Blackwood's The Education of Uncle Paul is from 1903.  It comes close to being a truly great novel.  Uncle Paul is a strange man, almost as strange as his young niece Nixie (she is 9 or 10).  Together they explore a wonderful world of imagination, mostly through interactions with Nature. The book will immediately remind readers of the works of Arthur Machen, whom Blackwood greatly admired.  Paul River is 44 years old, and left England at an early age, eventually becoming a person who scouts the deep woods of Minnesota and Canada for good hardwood trees to harvest.  He has formed a deep bond with Nature, though the book never deals with how many trees he has caused to be exterminated.  He is comfortable living off the land, and is often gone for weeks via canoe on his scouting missions.

When his sister's husband dies, who was also Paul's best friend back in England, he decides to return to England and spend some time with her.  He takes a one year leave from his job and as his ship approaches the old world he realizes how unfit he is to live in such a modern world.  The house is surrounded by a small woodland, however, and Paul soon immerses himself in the surrounding lands.  His companion on his voyage of discovery is Nixie, oldest child of four in the household, and a kindred spirit to his own.

While some deep and penetrating discoveries are made, the book overdoes things somewhat in the final section, going a little bit too far into the realm of the unknown.  While the ending is comforting and would appeal perhaps to older children, as this is mainly a novel for adults I find the final portion of the book too over the top.  It no longer seems like a novel but someone's own spiritual experience embellished with a lot of tinkling laughter and dancing lights.  However, I do recommend the book, as it is unique in my experience.  One man's search for truth and enlightenment through Nature and childhood experience makes for reading that doesn't come around very often.

 

Damon Knight's In Search of Wonder (1956, 1967, 1996) is not only the best book of SF criticism I have ever read, but the best book of literary criticism I have ever read.  He essentially founded SF criticism with this epic book, which is over 450 pages long.  While it most thoroughly covers the 1950s, the updated editions bring things a little closer to most people's foggy remembrances of some of their first SF reading material.  All the great writers are here, and they often get skewered nearly as much as the true junk writers.  While there is a lot of things I disagree with, I find Knight so clear and concise and thorough that he is often hard to argue with.

This is the book of criticism that Michael Moorcock did such a hack job with, those his field was Fantasy.  Often Moorcock's writing made no sense, and more often than not he did not present any sort of case.  It wasn't a book of criticism, but a book of his likes and dislikes.  Quite a different thing than Damon Knight's masterpiece here.

There are 33 chapters, and I think I found something to enjoy in each of them.  The "Chuckleheads" chapters are priceless, as some of the writing being skewered is just so bad that it hurts.  Besides tackling individual authors, I found his most fun chapters to be on Symbolism (a truly outrageous bit of writing!), and a chapter dealing really well with the question of What Is Science Fiction, Anyway?  The book ends with a chapter on how to write SF.  There is also an extensive bibliography.  I should have read this book for the first time 40 years ago, but I'm glad I finally discovered it (thank you to James Blish).  I cannot recommend this book highly enough to old school SF fans.  It was a great way to finish off the month.

 

May Books Read, and Annual Update

I commence my 9th year of reading works by Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery Series writers.  I still have 5 writers on the list, though Silverberg is nearly done.  Malzberg and Moorcock have about a year to go, while E C Tubb and Kenneth Bulmer are still in for the long haul.  This past year I managed to add 60 books by the Avon authors to my list, which is now at a total of 829.  I doubt I'll make it to a thousand, but one never knows.  Books unrelated to the SF series equaled the series books for the very first time this year, as I also got through 60 books of free reading, many of them from the Delphi Classics series.  Added to the accumulative series total, I have now read 226 books unrelated to any particular project.  And total books read from June 2023 to end of May 2024 is 120.  That's a book every three days!

This month I finished the 'required' reading (5 books) and was on to freestyle by May 14th.  Only 5 of the 24 Equinox/Avon authors remain for me to finish up within the stable of SF writers, as well as dozens from the Delphi Classics series.

I am all out of Silverberg SF, so once again I had to resort to recent reprints (on Kindle) of his soft core porn crime novels.  The reality of trying to make a living as a professional writer in the 1960s is on full display in this 1965 novel The Killer, originally called Passion Killer.  For a decent SF writer to have to resort to writing this stuff is not only sad, but also not very surprising.  Its 156 pages contain a short story about a hired killer about to double cross the man who hired him to kill his wife, but in the end someone else also gets double crossed.  The actual story is about 40 pages long; the rest consists of people having sex nearly every which way.  And the top heavy females, who just love to have sex, consist of a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead.  Vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, the flavours of the 60s.  All bases covered.  The basic story is okay, similar to any number of crime story plots from period novels and or films.  The sex described in the book, which was probably sold under the counter in those days in certain types of book shops, is likely milder than found in most best sellers of today.  Some may call this progress.  I call it something else.   A must read for Silverberg and pulp fiction fans.  The rest of you may safely pass by.

 

Cover by Ernest Chiriaka.

 

Golden Scorpio is the final book in the exciting 4-part novel series dealing with the capture, destruction, and recapture of Vallia.  It is from 1978, and is 159 pages long.  Bulmer now writes as if he lives in this world, and it can be disconcerting, even to readers of the whole series so far, to hear him spouting so many invented foreign language words.  Kregan is a complicated planet, with many more kinds of people and animals than Earth.  There is a glossary provided, but it gets to be a pain to always have to go back and refer to some word or type of person or place or thing.  Other than that, this is turning into quite an epic effort of storytelling.  A TV series could run infinitely long based on these books, and I'm only at #18 of 52 volumes.  Bulmer has gone far beyond what E. R. Burroughs ever hoped to achieve.  But how is the writing?

Aside from so many strange words, and so many characters to keep track of (some disappear for volumes, then return), this story is one of the best in the series.  Essentially, Dray has to train an army from scratch, mainly made up of citizens who have been conquered and whose cities have been captured by enemy soldiers. The problem with Vallia is that it has always relied on mercenary soldiers to defend its borders.  But if the mercenaries are bought out by a higher bidder, they are no longer useful to Vallia, which is then left to itself.  So Dray begins training civilians, and it is quite a job.  The possible influences on Bulmer here are many, and he has masterfully taken from several sources.  Firstly, Roman warfare and how Roman troops were trained in such a disciplined manner.  Secondly, I see a strong influence from Kurosawa's epic film The Seven Samurai.  Then comes Tolkien's Battle of the Hornburg (but without the cavalry coming to the rescue).  And of course, Burroughs himself.  Bulmer outdoes himself in this book, and even manages to keep some sense of humour during the bloody and horrifying events.

Vallia is not out of the woods yet, however.  But with Dray now as Emperor, and the capital city and palace regained, things are certainly looking up.  What will happen in the next 34 books in this series?  Likely not even Bulmer knew at this point.  But if the quality of writing can be maintained, I will stick with it till the end.

 

From 1957 comes Cauldron of Violence, a 119 page western with events beginning in 1859, continuing through the Civil War, and then ending sometime afterwards.  The well written story focuses around Collin, who was 12 when Indians attacked his parents' homestead, killing them and his uncle, and burning down the house.  He managed to escape, and doesn't seem to exactly have a love affair with Indians afterwards.  He lives with a host family until he joins up with the union army during the war.  After being badly wounded in a successful attempt to blow up a southern railroad bridge, he recoups in hospital, wondering what lies next for him.  After the war he leads a small wagon train of settlers heading west, through dangerous Indian territory.  Most of the story describes this adventure.  Though not too far from the plot of The Gold Seekers, previously read, Collin is a very different character.  The wagon train encounters hostile Indians and must fight to the death until help arrives.  As is now expected in a Tubb western tale, the Indian side of things is told well, making the inevitable outcome seem like a foretold prophecy.  Another high quality tale from a pulp writing master.

 

There is only one true fantasy plot for a novel in that genre.  A really bad guy, who seems to have unlimited and endless evil powers, plans to take over the world/universe.  The good guy is helpless to stop him, and undergoes horrible ordeals, suffering mightily.  Until the last few pages of the book, when evil is defeated.  Tolkien did not invent this age-old plot; he just happened to write the best version of it, ever.  So anytime this plot is encountered (just open any fantasy novel), that writer is up against some mighty stiff competition.  In this case, Moorcock falls far short of writing a memorable and lasting work of fantasy fiction.

Michael Moorcock's The Dreamthief's Daughter is from 2001, and is 241 pages long.  I couldn't wait for it to end, never a good thing when reading a book.  The author tries a lot of new tricks.  Instead of one Elric, there's two (Elric and Ulrich).  It is revealed that he has a daughter, referring back to a much earlier and very fine Elric tale called "The Fortress of the Pearl."  His evil cousin is back, unfortunately.  One can quickly get very tired of this 'cousin', who has appeared in many Elric tales. And then there are the Nazis, on the rise.  Of course there would have to be Nazis.  And might as well throw in the Holy Grail.  He does.  And dragons over England, helping defeat the German air attack on London in 1940.

I know this is fantasy, and Elric, and all that.  But I found it very tiring reading.  A low point for me in the Elric saga.

 

The Engines of the Night is a collection of essays published in hardcover in 1982, lasting 199 pages. Most of these very short essays were published elsewhere around 1980.  Malzberg, as usual, tells it like it is (was), giving readers a good handle on what it was like to write SF in the 40s, 50s, and 60s.  There are some fun essays, and some very bitter ones.  Both kinds are very well written and required reading for fans of the history of the genre.  I have many favourites, among them being the chapter discussing Cornell Woolrich; two essays on the 50s; one called Science Fiction as Picasso; the obit essay for Mark Clifton; and a chapter giving Malzberg's choice of the ten best SF stories of all time (to 1980).  I'd only read read two of them!  A pretty amazing and wonderful collection of essays.  He has an updated collection of essays that I am greatly looking forward to reading.  The final essay in this collection, the longest, tells the tale of a typical pulp SF writer from the time.  Unforgettable.

 

After Malzberg, it was time to go freestyle.  I can read anything I want!  Sort of.  I really enjoy picking away at the Delphi Classics series, available on most type of e-readers.  For about $3 readers get the entire collection of writing from an author now out of copyright, and often out of print.  These are very well edited editions, too.  A most highly recommended series.  I now have about 50 authors in my library, and that includes thousands of novels, stories, novellas, poetry, plays, and original art work.  And I never have to decide whether to keep or discard a book, or give it away to charity.  I can keep it with me till I die!

First up was J. K. Bangs' first children's novel, Tiddledywink Tales.  Published in 1891, it is 161 pages of some wonderful but harmless prose and poetry for very young children, perhaps aged 4-7.  Filled with wit including riddles, jokes, funny poems and even a few jokes for adults (the book is meant to be read to children), it's 20 chapters each offer some special kind of delight.  I'll bet readers here didn't even know that tiddleywinks (today called tiddlywinks) could even talk, let alone crack jokes, have pageants, and entertain guests.  Obviously influenced by Alice In Wonderland (1865), it offers somewhat different pleasures.  It is probably closer to Wizard of Oz (1900) in its style of jokes and witticisms, though (as yet) is not nearly as adventurous.  These little stories are mostly forgotten today.

 

 

Next came a novella by J. M. Barrie.  It is called Better Dead, and is from 1888.  It was his first novel (-la), published at his own expense.  Later he tried to not have it republished, but it was anyway.  It is a darkly humoured look at the London Society For Doing Without.  Many readers manage to miss the black humour of the novel entirely, somehow.  A young Scotsman fresh from university and armed with good references, arrives in London to seek his fortune.  He is befriended by the president of a unique private society of men who murder other men.  If someone thinks that the world would be better off without a certain person, then he simply murders that person.  The young man observes such a killing, and becomes quite interested in joining the club.  He is given his probationary task of writing his thesis, and sets about righting perceived wrongs.  One of the funniest parts of the book has a leading female suffragette speaking to the club, demanding equality.  She believes they should be murdering women, too, not just men.  In the end, the young man is nearly undone by his enticingly visible neck, as well as the theses he presents to the club.  He believes everyone over 45 should be killed, including most members of the club, thus giving young people a chance to briefly shine.  His presentation does not go over well.  A brief but entertaining read.

Barrie's self published novella of 1888.

 

Arnold Bennett's Anna of the Five Towns was published in 1902.  Set in the Midlands region of England, the towns were the centre of pottery manufacturing.  Think of Hobbiton after Sharky had spent some time there.  Anna is 21, and lives with her father, the miser of town, and her 12 year old half sister Agnes.  Her father is rich, and upon Anna turning 21 she is given her inheritance from her deceased mother, amounting to about L50,000, a sizable fortune.  She also has investments which bring high annual returns.  Of course she is not allowed to spend any of it.  Her father is at least as rich, but is about the most miserly person ever met in literature.  He also has a wrathful temper, and continually browbeats Anna.  The dreariness of her life is relieved by a two week holiday on the Isle of Man.  She is invited by neighbours, who are able to convince her father to let her go.  Agnes is happy to keep house while she is gone.  During the trip she becomes engaged to a man she once liked, but she grows less fond of him every day.  A man in debt for his rent to her father (and now her, as she owns the property) becomes central to the story, as does his son, a simple boy whom Anna takes to her heart.  The great tragedy of their downfall becomes a symbol of what awaits Anna.  Married to a man she doesn't love, she performs her duties to him, as she once did to her father.

Yes, it is a grim story.  But it is so well told, and we get so many insights into what Anna is thinking, things she never shares with others, that her character becomes not only memorable, but unforgettable.  She is not a mousy woman, but she has lived under paternal tyranny and abject misery for so long that even being married to man she does not love or greatly respect is a giant step away from her father, albeit a sideways step.  Bennett is a wonderful writer, and hopefully still being read, somewhere.  Paternal tyranny and the woeful place of a woman at this time have never been more clearly illustrated.  A town is brought to life, and the characters perform their duties, in a way that seems drawn from experience and some deep thinking about female and male roles in society.  Highly recommended.

 

 

I have previously read two books of short ghost stories by Algernon Blackwood.  This time I retreated to his first novel, called Jimbo: A Fantasy.  From 1909 it is a tale of childhood, but it is not meant for children to read.  However, it could work if it was read to them.  Jimbo (James) is eight, and has an accident that renders him unconscious for several hours.  During this time he becomes trapped in another world, in a castle tower, a prisoner of Fear.  A former governess of James helps him prepare for an escape.  James grows wings over time, and learns to use them.  A true fantasy, and very much in the tradition of Iain Banks' The Bridge, from 1986, where an unconscious man (we don't know this until later) finds himself trapped on a mysterious bridge and tries to get off of it.  However, Bennett's tale is also a bit of a ghost story.  Fairly well done, and could form the basis of a terrific animated version of the story.

 

Five Go Adventuring Again, from 1943, is Enid Blyton's 2nd novel in her popular long running series featuring four kids and a dog.  Blyton hit on a winning formula, one that kids loved.  A secret hidden passage, an important formula stolen, a cryptic note, and some bad guys thrown in is repeated again and again in her stories.  They were so popular that she was not allowed to stop writing.  Some differences between this one and the first story include the fact that it is winter and Christmas holidays, rather than summer holidays, and that the entire story takes place on land.  Also, there is no treasure, just a stolen formula that must be retrieved.  While three of the children are your standard cardboard children, two older boys and their younger sister, George, their cousin, is a female with a difference.  She remains an interesting character, being not only rebellious to the extreme, but one who trusts her instincts, despite others not thinking she is very wise to do so.  Certain kids still might like to read the book today, though most now require certain amounts of magic and fantasy.  There is no magic in Blyton's book, but plenty of adventure.

 

 

Ernest Bramah's The Mirror of Kong Ho is a brilliant and very funny book from 1905.  Brahma was included in the Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series with two splendid novels.  Though this one is not a fantasy, it retains the same idioms of speech and the same intent of those tales.  Never has a clash of cultures been better brought to light than in these eleven letters that Kong Ho writes home to his Chinese father, detailing his experiences and misadventures during his visit to London.  Each chapter tackles several misunderstandings and their consequences based on cultural differences between England and China.  We learn how and why Kong Ho is kicked out of his rooming house.  Grim but hilarious.  Kong Ho visits a pub and causes a riot.  He thinks it is a temple of worship.  He plays cricket; he rides the Tube; he visits a country estate; two con men attempt to rob him.  Whatever it is he experiences, it all gets included in the truly hilarious letters home.  Not being British, I did not get all the jokes, but most of them sunk in just fine.  It's one of those books that will drive the person you live with mad, due to sudden outbursts of laughter, and the obligatory rereading aloud to them of passage after passage.  A wonderful book!

 

Warlord of Mars is Edgar Rice Burroughs 3rd Martian tale, published in 1918.  It's interesting to read this series in light of reading Kenneth Bulmer's similar Dray Prescott series.  While Bulmer takes the Martian tales of Burroughs as his base (as did Michael Moorcock in his Martian trilogy), his world is much more complex, and his lead character much more interesting.  Burroughs used many of the same writer's tricks over and over again, and they can become tiring after a time.  Having said that, Burroughs can write a good yarn with the best of them.  This book is a direct continuation of the 2nd Martian novel, as he begins his attempts to rescue Dejah Thoris, his wife and Princess of Mars.  We travel back to the root of the evil from Book 2, where the religion of the black men is stomped out and destroyed.  Of course the main bad guy gets away, kidnapping Dejah.  The chase is on.  It culminates in a huge battle at the North Pole.  Poor John Carter, the hero.  At one point he actually gets Dejah in his arms, but she is cruelly whisked away yet again as he battles for their lives against the yellow men (there are also green men and red men).  The book finishes up a series within the series, with all well that ends well.  Looking forward to new adventures next time.

 

An early cover from 1919, one of dozens since published.  

Art by J. Allen St. John.   

 

Lastly came a short book by Sir Richard Burton.  Falconry In The Valley Of The Indus is from 1852, one year after his first travel book, also set in India.  I have little interest in falconry, being a non-hunter.  And yet I was curious to learn something about it.  This short book told me just about everything I needed to know, so I can say with confidence that I am now versed in the ways of falconry.  Burton deals with the actual hunting part, of course, but also with the training of the various kinds of birds of prey that are/were used in the activity (I cannot call it "sport", as very little hunting has anything to do with sport).  However, the best of the book was a 10 or 11 page postscript by the author, dealing with English critics of his writing to date.  This is a very well written retort to the imbecile critics who had never set foot outside of England, and who could not imagine that any British person would behave ignobly towards natives of other lands.  A diverting book.

Mapman Mike

 

 

February Books Read

Despite being a short month, and with three astronomy nights in there as well, I still managed to read 11 books; seven from my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery project, one off the shelf, and three from Kindle.  Needless to say my actual miscellaneous shelf is now down to about five books, from about fifty not so long ago.  Almost everything I buy now is on Kindle, at least 95 % of my book purchases.

The month always begins with Robert Silverberg, but this time he collaborated with Isaac Asimov.  There are at least three such books I will be reading in the course of completing the project (someday).  Nightfall is from 1990, and was the first collaboration.  Very loosely based on a 1940s short story by Asimov, the novel is the story of a post-holocaust society, much like the ones written by nearly every other SF author, including Algis Budrys, John Christopher (his specialty), Edgar Pangborn, and so on.  The differences here are worth noting, however.  This is an alien society, much like humans on Earth, but they are not humans on Earth.  They live on a planet with six suns, and dark skies are unknown here.  Except once every 2049 years.   Still, after the Mad Max movies, and so many previous tales of the mayhem that will ensue when society collapses, I am surprised that this book was written.  Of course without those big names on the cover, it is doubtful if it ever would have been published.

Isle of Woman by Piers Anthony was next.  From 1993 comes the first book in yet another epic series, this one under the title of Geodyssey.  This first book is 470 pages long, including the author's afterword.  In his own words, this is 'history light,' and the simple writing seems aimed at a high school audience.  He said that he hated history in school, finding it dull.  He wanted to make it more interesting with this series, which begins with a story from 3.7 million years ago, up to one from the near 'future' of 2021.   Probably something I would have found interesting around Grade Ten or Eleven.  I have one more Anthony book in my collection, the second book of this series.  At that point, I will likely stop reading Anthony's series.  I will carefully check out any remaining single novels before buying anything else by him.  59 books read so far, which is not even half of what he has written.  This book wins cover of the month.

Cover of the Month for Feb. 2023 goes to artist Eric Peterson.

From 1975 comes Boarders Away the 128 page continuation of the fascinating story of Commander Fox, that devil of the high seas.  Now under the command of a man he detests, obstacles to promotion are again put in Fox's path.  He always performs gloriously, craftily, and ruthlessly, yet is seldom, if ever, given the recognition required for his service in His Majesty's Royal Navy.  This time he must land two spies on French soil, then return to pick them up with other passengers on the next night.   Of course plans go awry, and Fox must use all his courage and ingenuity to make things right.  His reward is to be left behind, undermanned, while the other ships in his fleet go into action.  Guarding four prize ships turns into disaster for Fox, however, and the book ends in a most pessimistic way.  Bulmer is in top writing form once again, having found his true subject matter.

 

From 1970 comes The Jester of Scar, Book 5 of the Dumarest series. 

Scar is a planet that has useful spores.  However, some of them are deadly to humans.  To be safe when outdoors in the wild a special filtered suit must be worn.  We are not certain as to why Dumarest is here, but the opening scene is a classic Tubb setting, as two bullies come looking for trouble in a hut where he is staying with a woman.  On an excursion into the wilderness in search of valuable spores, Dumarest hits the jackpot.  The only problem is the location, on the other side of a treacherous range of steep hills.  The main adventure has Dumarest and his partner trying to reach, and then to harvest the crop.  Even without interference from the bad guys, it is unlikely they would have survived the ordeal.  But there is also aid from the leader of another nearby planet, visiting Scar.  The plot is just thick enough, and the adventure story is suitable readable.  Of course Dumarest learns nothing further about Earth.  Until next time....

 

From 2005 comes the 2nd and final edition of Wonder's Child, Jack Williamson's autobiography.  For anyone interested in the history of American SF, this book is a must read.  For any writer finding it difficult to impossible to get published (I raise my hand here), the book offers lessons, and again hammers home how difficult a task that has always been.  Above all else, Jack loved SF, and he helped legitimize it through college courses, and training high school English teachers to use it in the classroom.  there is no doubt that the field would be very different today without Jack's hard work.  What a life!  A highly recommended read.

 

Legends From The End of Time by Michael Moorcock was published in 1975.  It contains four stories, two novelettes and two novellas, of events occurring at the end of time in the absence of Jherek Carnelian, when he is off on his own adventures.  The first story, Pale Rose, and the last, Ancient Shadows, are the best ones and well worth seeking out.  It does take a while to get used to the people who live at the end of time, but once readers are familiar with them and the way they live, there is a delightful world of fantasy here to discover.  Best of all, Jherek is not missed.

A collection of short stories by Malzberg nicely finished of the SF portion of the reading month.  The Man Who Loved The Midnight Lady is a collection of stories and essays published in 1980.  There are several gems, especially the brief afterwards by the author for the 2021 edition.  I always recommend Malzberg, though his short stories are not the place to begin.  The short series taking place in Writers' Heaven is noteworthy in this collection; fun and quite hilarious.  The essays, though now quite old, are still good to read.  Malzberg rails against the prejudice held by traditional literature towards SF writing, lamenting that not one major prize was awarded to a SF novel during the 1950s.  Despite some of the best writing of that decade being SF, it is certainly a bone of contention.

Towards the end of the book Malzberg announces his own "best book of the decade by American writers" awards, up through the 1970s.  I took him at his word, finding as many of his winners on Kindle as I could manage to, and downloading them.  Some were free or very inexpensive, while others were top dollar (for Kindle books).  But I have them all except for one, which seems very rare.  Here is the list of his "awards."

1920s--A tie.  The Great Gatsby; The Sun Also Rises.

1930s--The Low Company, by Daniel Fuchs.

1940s--The Naked and The Dead, by Norman Mailer.

1950s--Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison (unavailable currently).

1960s--Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates.

1970s--The Franchises, by Stanley Elkin.

So we begin the next phase of reading in February.  I began with The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I actually read this in high school, in Gr. 12.  Our school (Lasalle Secondary, in Sudbury) actually had a college level English department.  Classes would meet as per usual twice per week; twice per week we would meet in half class size round table seminars; and on Friday all classes would meet in the little theatre for ensemble lessons.  These were often dramatic readings or student acted performances of scenes from plays or novels being studied.  However, in addition to all this, a second and advanced English class was available to certain hand picked students.  There were twelve of us in this class, mostly boys if you can believe it, and we had to read at least a book a week.  Sometimes we were given a novel Friday afternoon, and by Monday we had to have a 500 word review ready to read to the class, defending our position.  Such it was with The Great Gatsby.  I only wish I still had my review from back then.

Reading it again more than a few years later, I can truly say that it is a remarkably good novel.  The first chapter, in which the main characters are introduced (all except Gatsby, who is still only a shadow), is one of the best first chapters of any novel ever read by this reviewer.  The parties, the empty lifestyles, the social criticism, and the gradual appearance of Gatsby's true character (nothing less than a knight in shining armour) come as revelations in how to write a novel.  The tragedy itself is barely sketched out, and if you reading the novel Sunday morning in bed after a long night of Saturday night partying, it would be easy to glance over and even miss!  Such are the events of life, and thus the invention of the "double take."  Anyway, I loved the book, and highly recommend a reread, if it's been awhile.

Next came a physical book from the shelf, one of my few remaining.  The latest Anne Hillerman mystery is called Sacred Bridge, and is from 2021.  Her next book should be out by April.  Jim Chee, Navajo police sergeant, is on a short personal holiday away from his home territory of Shiprock, NM.  He finds a body (don't we all?) and he becomes involved in the mystery of who killed the male victim, and why.  Meanwhile back on the home front, Bernadette (Chee's wife and also a Navajo constable) is dealing with the bullying tactics of a local cannabis farm, going undercover to see exactly what is going on.  Not a bad entry, and we again get to visit the fabulous landscape of the four corners area (which we have never visited ourselves!).

Now came two books from my Delphi Classics series.  The first one was Coffee and Repartee, from 1893.  It is the second humourous book by J K Bangs I have read and enjoyed.  What began as a series of short stories was bundled into this novel, which became so popular that it became a series.  A group of male boarders meet each day for meals, and have discussions.  The only females present are the landlady and her maid.  The conversations are invariably philosophical and often quite hilarious.  The star of the show is The Idiot, who bandies words with a man of the collar, a school master, an imbiber (his ally), a physician, a bibliophile,and a few other straight characters.  Highly entertaining, and I am looking forward to other books in the series.

Things wrapped up with an early collection of stories by J. M. Barrie called Auld Licht Idylls, from 1888.  There are 12 stories related to the doings of a small, out of the way Scottish village called Thrums.  It is difficult for a modern reader to relate to the meagre and spiritless existence of these god-fearing folk, and though the stories are told towards the humourous side of things, it is still appalling to think that any such folk ever existed, outside of fairy tales.  The first story, "The Schoolhouse," introduces the narrator, the local school master, and is the strongest of the set.  Many of the others are funny and quite revealing, but ghastly just the same.  The stories to do with anything religious are the funniest and the most head shaking.  Almost unbelievable, but not quite.

Next blog is already underway, dealing with the February film festival here at the Homestead.  See you soon.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

February Reading

It turned into an amazing month for reading, as I got through no less than 14 books.  That's an average of two per day!  Some excellent reading in there, too, including the first two Oz books, with original illustrations.

The new month always gets started with something by Silverberg.  I have collected all 10 volumes of Silverberg's shorter fiction, and read Vol 4 last month (which is really Vol 5, as the first volume was not numbered).  It contains 14 stories from 1972-73, lasting for 411 pages.  I had read only one of them previously.  The best them is listed here: The Dybbuk of Mazel Tov IV, where a Jewish colony on another planet has to deal with the reappearance of one of their recently dead in the body of an intelligent native.  A wonderful story; Ship Sister-Star Sister is a very good story about the first starship to leave Earth for the great unknown.  It carries a female telepath, while her twin sister, also a telepath, remains on Earth.  This becomes the main way of communicating from space.  Very well done; This Is The Road is the first of two novellas in this volume, and seems to be a perfect example of what a good novella should be.  A group of four people are travelling west along a road to escape pillage and worse from invading barbarians (does this sound contemporary enough--Russia invade Ukraine as I write this).  They come up against a wall built to block the road, and must decide what to do.  An excellent story, well contained within itself; and In The House Of Double Minds, an intriguing right brain/left brain story.  This book also wins best cover on the month.

Best cover for February, art by Thomas Moronski.  He does all the covers for this series, and they are all amazing.

Next up was a very well done stand alone novel by Piers Anthony, lasting over 520 pages.  Called Tatham Mound, it is a story about a Florida Indian tribe in the mid 1550s.  Well written and well researched, the fictional story is based upon people who were actually uncovered in the excavation of a rare burial mound find in northern Florida.  This is like something Silverberg might write, or Harry Harrison.  The 20-page concluding essay by the author is also well worth reading.

Stainless Steel Visions is a collection of 13 short stories by Harry Harrison, as well as a short essay by the author on what makes a short story good, and what doesn't.  I had read many of the stories in other collections, but I will list three of the new ones that I really liked.  Toy Shop is from 1962, and is 8 pages long.  A fun tale about trying to get one's important invention noticed.  Commando Raid is from 1970, and is 14 pages long.  Were there lessons learned from the Vietnam War?  Harry Harrison learned them, but apparently not everyone who should have did. The Golden Years of the Stainless Steel Rat is from 1993.  It is 20 pages long.  A prison break is nothing unusual for slippery Jim deGriz.  But this time he springs the entire geriatric population.  The Stainless Steel Rat (and Angelina) are still in top form, despite the aging years.

I began another new series by Kenneth Bulmer, writing under the name of Bruno Krauss.  It's a series about German u boats in early WWII, before American got involved.  Their mission is to sink British ships.  It must have surprised a lot of people when they out that a British writer penned the series.  The first book is called Steel Shark.  The missions are harrowing, both for the crew of the submarine, and for the British sailors above, and we get good looks at both sides of the coin.  I have always believed that submarines attempting to sink civilian ships is a very cowardly undertaking, and the book didn't change my mind about that.  Is it a coincidence that Das Boot, the incredible movie about the same subject, came out in 1981, three years after Bulmer's series was underway?  I think not.  Though the movie is based on a 1973 novel, Bulmer's books were quite popular, especially in Germany.  I will likely read one or two more eventually, but not the entire series (8 books).

Next was a pretty terrible SF pulp novel by Tubb, from 1953.  This man could crank out incredible stories one after another, but not this time.  Maybe he had the flu when he wrote it.  The Wall is a mysterious barricade blocking access to the heart of the galaxy, where the answer to eternal youth lies.  It's an interesting enough premise, but it handled very routinely, and the book never really gets things into gear.  At least at 130 pages, it was short.

Even Jack Williamson turned out a clunker for me this month.  Beachhead is from 1992, written when Jack was 82.  It's about the first human trip to Mars.  It is actually worse than the previous pulp novel by Tubb, which I awarded two stars.  This one got one and a half.  Avoid.

After a disappointing start last month to Michael Moorcock's Elric series, the next book I read was much improved.  Written in 1989, many years after the first novel, Moorcock returned to the series to fill in some gaps of events during Elric's years of travel.  Since I am trying to read them in chronological order (not the order in which they were written), the next book was The Fortress of the Pearl.  It seems to be a compendium of styles, from Lovecraft, Dunsany, E R Eddison, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E Howard, Frank Baum, and Fritz Leiber, not to mention Homer, who started it all.  They actually blend well!  My oversize version is 164 pages, but the original paperback version is 248 pages.  A really great read!

The last novel related to my Avon/Equinox authors was called Chorale, written by Barry Malzberg.  It is a weirdly structured time travel novel, where the people of the near future have to keep going back in time to make certain that important events actually happen.  While the book gets bogged down in its own philosophy (did the past really happen, or did we create it from the future), there are enough moments of brilliance to make this a compelling read.  A man is chosen to go back in time and reenact key events in the life of Beethoven, the great composer.  Quite a challenge, since the man neither speaks German, is a musician (in fact he doesn't care about music at all), and is more than slightly demented.  There are several hilarious events and moments, all dark and conspiratorial, but we do end up learning a good deal of Beethoven, and the almost hideous times in which he lived (especially regarding public health and personal grooming habits).  Definitely worth checking out, even for non musicians.

After reading my required 8 books in my ongoing project (see separate website for the Avon/Equinox series), I turned my attention to unrelated books from my "miscellaneous" shelf.  I managed to read six, including two by female writers.  First came Patricia Highsmith's The Price of Salt, an incredible and memorable tale of a young woman meeting an older woman and falling in love with her.  They end up going on a road trip together across the US.  Written in 1952, this is probably the best book I read all month (a tie with one other--see further down).  Exceptionally well written, and we also got to watch the 2013 film, called Carol, based on the book.

The Dragon Scroll, by Irina K Parker is part of a very long series of murder/mystery books taking place in 11 C Japan.  I read several many years ago.  Though this one was written later, it is the first of the books chronologically, and I have had it on my shelf for many years.  The parts about Japanese society, customs, and life styles are well researched and form the main interest for reading these books, much in the same way that Pat McIntosh writes her mysteries in medieval Glasgow. The book was okay, but as per most modern mystery stories, there are simply too many murders for one book.  Find something else to keep a reader's interest, instead of continually murdering someone else.

I dipped into my vast library of Delphi Classics on Kindle for the next four books.  First of these was called Toppleton's Client, by J K Bangs, his second novel.  Written in 1893, it is a very funny tale about a one man trying to help a spirit regain his body, which was stolen by another spirit 30 years earlier.  Extremely well written, and the premise is given sufficient time and breadth to develop before we really get into the nitty gritty of things.  The ending was actually a surprise, but perfect for the story.  Not only are Americans lampooned, but the British who receive them are raked over the coals as well.  Courts and lawyers are not spared either, but it's never nasty, only fun.

Next came a serious work, A Man From The North, by Arnold Bennett.  Partly autobiographical, it's about a man coming to London from a smaller city, and hoping to become a writer.  He takes a room, gets a clerk's job, and occasionally sends in an article or short story to a publisher.  They are always rejected.  The story follows him for years, and was a surprisingly good read.  The author allows us good access to the man's inner thoughts, and his constricted lifestyle, with occasional episodes of hope, keep us reading on page after page.  He has no real friends, seems unable to meet women, and has no sense of true ambition to work at being a writer.  However, he has a strong sense that he is far above his fellow men, despite his lack of success with women and with writing books.  If he didn't have his strong ego he would undoubtedly fall apart quickly.  The book could also be called Ambitious Hopes Meet Reality.  Highly recommended.

I finished off the short month by reading the first two Oz books.  I have read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz before, but only in a text version.  This time I had access to all of the original art that accompanied the story.  There is so much to love about this book, and it certainly remains as relevant today--to kids and adults--as when it was first written in 1900.  There is wonderful satire, brilliantly imaginative locations, characters, and adventures, and a total sense that somehow this is all real, somewhere.  A must read, for everyone.

  

Dorothy, with her green spectacles, meets the Wizard of Oz.

Echoing the adventures of Homer's Ulysses, our four heroes become bogged down in a field of poppies that make two of them very sleepy.

Never having read The Marvelous Land of Oz, the 2nd book in the series, I pressed on.  Though not as good in many ways as the first book, the 1904 sequel has its own rough charm.  The humour is back, and a different artist takes over.  The Scarecrow is chased off his Emerald City Throne by a band of girls with knitting needles, and sets off westward to find the Tin Man and get his help.  The girls chip off all the precious stones from the walls of the Emerald City, force the men to do all the home labour, and the women relax and make fudge.  After an unsuccessful attempt to get his throne back, the Scarecrow and friends set out to get Glinda's help.  New characters in book two are Jack Pumpkinhead, H M Wogglebug, T. E., a bad witch, a sawhorse, and a flying thing made from palm leaves and two sofas, and a boy who turns out to be a girl.  All the greatest fun one could ever have, so read it soon.

Two illustrations from The Marvelous Land of Oz, Book 2 in the series. 

Mapman Mike