Showing posts with label Olaf Stapledon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olaf Stapledon. Show all posts

Thursday, 30 July 2026

July Books Read

 

From 1975 comes the 124 page SF thriller The Ghosts of Epidoris by E. C. Tubb.  For the third time Cap's old arch enemy Kaifeng is back and as bad as ever.  Kaifeng is the Fu Manchu of Cap Kennedy's galaxy, or the Master from Dr. Who's universe, a man who is evil through and through.  He loves to punish people who fail him, though in this story he admits that he failed at something yet doesn't mention any self punishment.  Could he be a hypocrite?  Once again the ancient Zeltyana race is at the forefront of Kaifeng's evil plan to rule the galaxy, as the evil one is using old alien technology to hide his doings from the rest of a planet's population.  Did I mention yet that he is evil?  Are there really ghosts wandering at night on Epidoris?  Or, is there a scientific explanation to what is happening and what people are seeing?  As usual, Tubb has a good SF premise and reasonable enough sounding explanation.  There is plenty of action, and even a bit of high culture talk between Cap and Kaifeng's equally evil female assistant, who harbours a bit of a crush on Cap.  My main complaint has to do with Tubb's ridiculous brief ending.  Less than half a page from the major climax the book suddenly ends.  No doubt the author wanted to bring back Kaifeng in a future story and didn't want to deal with his possible escape.  My secondary complaint is that any time relics of the ancient race are found, the bad guys get to it first and then Cap has to blow it all up at the end.  Seriously?
** 1/2 stars.
 
Original publication with cover by the great Jack Gaughan.
I read the Kindle edition. 
 
Next month I will return to Kenneth Bulmer's engrossing Dumarest Saga, but now it's time for more Delphi Classics reading.  Clark Ashton Smith was up next.  Smith has written some of the best horror and fantasy short stories I have ever read, so I always look forward to him when his turn comes around again.  This time its a collection of 14 stories published in 1948 under the title Genius Loci and Other Tales.  The first story is the title one, very much influenced by H P Lovecraft (Poe is another influence on this terrific writer).  A young artist visits a friend in the country and discovers a very dismal swamp.  He becomes fascinated by the atmosphere and strives to capture its likeness on canvas and in sketches.  Alas, the swamp has its own plans, not only for him but also his young fiancee.  Smith writes so much better than Lovecraft, even though many of his ideas are borrowed from him.
"The Ninth Skeleton" and "The Phantom of the Fire" are minor efforts but told well, though the skeleton story has some nice touches (no pun intended) and the fire story sounds like something supernatural that could actually happen to someone.
"The Eternal World" is almost a novelette, combining influences as disparate as H G Wells and Olaf Stapledon.  It is the story of a man who builds a kind of time machine and encounters two different kinds of intelligent life, a good kind and a bad kind.  It's the kind of story that Jack Williamson might have written back in the day.  Quite good reading for classic SF fans. 
"Vulthoom" is top notch Smith SF writing, as two men stuck on Mars encounter a much older and stranger being than the current Martians who trade with Earth.  In this novelette Vulthoom is a legendary god among the Martians, one who awakens every 1000 years, but as the two men discover, the godlike alien being is all too real.  As good as the story is, the ending is also one of the best.
"A Star Change" sees a depressed human approached by two aliens from Mlok while he is sitting on a mountain top.  They sense his depression and offer him a lift to their distant planet.  He refuses, but they later visit him in his San Francisco apartment.  He finally agrees.  On Mlok he has trouble adjusting to the new sensations.  Despite the friendliness of the aliens he spends much of his time shrieking in terror.  They perform some medical procedures on him and he is finally able to adjust.  Pangs of homesickness hit him, however, and he wishes to return to Earth.  He gets his chance when Mlok is invaded by a space born parasite, dooming the world and its people.  Meanwhile back on earth, his adjustments he received back on Mlok make him unfit for life on Earth.  Only Smith could come up with these bizarre but fascinating stories and their tragic endings.  Great stuff!
"The Primal City" is a great little horror story about two adventurers who trace down the location of a vast lost city in the mountains of northern India.  They and their guide trek for many days, at last coming to the ruins.  The city seems to have been made for giants, and was destroyed by some unknown force.  Soon, however, that force will make itself known once again. Only one man and one camel survive.
"The Disinternment of Venus" takes place in a Franciscan monastery in 1550, and is one of those stories that could easily have been a local legend.  A masterpiece of Roman sculpture is dug out from a monastery garden by two monks.  Afterwards, discipline breaks down and rules are constantly being broken.  Anyone who sees the statue is affected.  One non-viewing monk sets out to destroy it with a hammer.  He is found next day locked in the arms of the statue,  His body cannot be freed and he is buried forever with the statue and the garden is abandoned.  A terrific short story!
"The Colossus of Ylourgne" is a novella detailing the doings of an evil dwarf wizard seeking revenge on all those who wronged him in a small area of France in the early 1200s.  This is by far the best story of conjuring a demon-like being that I have ever read.  The gripping tale is filled with violence, both as the beast is being formed from buried corpses, and after it goes on its countryside rampage.  First two monks fro ma nearby monastery attempt to deal with the conjurer, but are sent back dully punished.  What I love about Smith's writing in this genre is that religious beliefs hold no sway over evil magic; churches are destroyed, the monastery is destroyed and many monks die as they pray.  A one time student of the wizard decides to give it a go, and while he pays dearly for his attempt, his eventual success gives the novella's climax a ring of truth and lasting freedom.  An excellent story and, like many of Smith's tales, would make a great film.  Highly recommended for sword and sorcery fans.
"The Satyr" is a short horror story about two lovers accosted not only by the woman's husband, but by Pan.  The cuckolded husband is the least of the worries for the woman.  Ever since my dream about Pan several years ago (I actually met him and he is a very scary guy), I suspect that this story and others like it are true.  Once again a terrific ending, and not a happy one (unless you are Pan).
"The Garden of Adompha" is another dark tale of black sorcery, with quite a hideous theme.  With the King's permission his cruel wizard grafts human parts onto various trees and plants in the King's secret garden.  This is one garden door readers do not ever want to open.
"The Charnel God" is another one of those stories about strange gods and customs.  A young couple stop overnight in a strange town.  She is cataleptic and has an attack and is pronounced dead by a local doctor.  Anyone who dies in this city has their body given over to the god.  Her boyfriend tries his best to rescue her, and he is unwittingly aided by a trio of body thieves.  A very unusual tale.
"The Black Abbot of Puthom" is a tale that Fritz Leiber would have greatly enjoyed reading, as did I.  Two body guards and a eunuch are sent to fetch a girl for the harem.  Her beauty is renowned and is coveted by the king.  The trip home is fraught with danger and adventure, as the four people are kidnapped by an evil sorcerer and brought to his monastery.  He wants to have his way with the girl but the two loyal bodyguards stand in his way.  A great adventure with even a touch of humour at the end.
"The Weaver In the Vault" (such great titles on some of these tales) 
 
Cover of the first edition (1948) by Frank Wakefield.
 
From a 1974 edition, with cover by
Bruce Pennington.
 
Olaf Stapledon is a very strange SF writer, likely well into the spectrum for autism.  If he was an artist he probably would be drawing those incredible detailed maps and drawings produced by people with such gifts.  Darkness and Light (1942) presents his best and worst case scenario for humans on Earth.  In past novels he has taken on the entire universe, with Earth as a mere dust mote in the grand scheme of things.  Well, this time he devotes the entire book to this dust mote and the people who dwell upon it.  Like a good Tarot card reading, Stapledon is not making predictions.  He is providing a framework for some grand ideas to be played out.  In the first half of the book we get the bad stuff.  Try to imagine the world in the near future if more Trump-like leaders emerge in the world's most important countries.  He does, and it isn't pretty.  In the second half of the book he provides a vision for Utopia, a vision that very few people today would ever accept.  Joining together for a common cause?  Ya, right.  Growing until we rise above consumerism and then leading more spiritual (not religious!) lives?  I don't think so.  As grand and hopeful as the author is, his first scenario is much more likely to happen, and sooner than most of us would want.  Stapledon's books could spark endless discussion, and they lead off in so many directions that a person could spend his life tied to any one of his visionist novels.  Even his best case scenario is frought with problems that defy correcting.  Well worth reading, but don't wait around for any of the good stuff to happen soon.
*** stars. 
 
Rabindranath Tagore's Fruit Gathering is a collection of 86 short poems from 1916, mostly dedicated to nature or god.  While reading these peaceful lines it's difficult to believe that the Great War was in full swing.  Many of the poems are worth quoting in their entirety, while others produce lines that are truly heaven-sent.  Often meditative, never frivolous, this is poetry with some weight holding it up.  A few brief examples: "I throw away all that is not one with my life nor as light as my laughter.  I run through time and, O my heart, in your chariot dances the poet who sings while he wanders."  "Cling to this living raft, my body, in the narrow stream of my earthly years.  I leave it when the crossing is over.  And then?"  How about this one?  "Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield but to my own strength."  One more:  "Let the mantle of tender darkness cover me in its folds, and cover my pain awhile from the pressure of the world."  This is good stuff, with nearly every poem offering up something of worth.  Recommended.  **** stars.   
 
Josephine Tey (1896-1952) was a Scottish author known best for her Inspector Grant murder mystery novels.  She has two of her books in the top 100 best mystery books of all time, including the #1 position! (The Daughter of Time).  The Man in the Queue is from 1929 and was her first in the Grant series, and her second novel ever.  She has a highly detailed style, always told from one perspective by the narrator.  The story is actually a police procedural, as we tag along with the inspector to try to solve a seemingly unsolvable murder.  Clues and witnesses are few and far between, and along the way the highly intelligent inspector makes several large errors, not entirely his fault.  This is one of those mystery stories where the evidence is so stacked against one man that we wonder all along if he did do it, and if not, then who?  Does the inspector solve the case?  Actually, no he doesn't.  But he has enough of a bad feeling about the arrested man to keep digging for evidence that might help him.  No luck there.  He strongly feels that the wrong man was arrested and will likely be hung for the crime.  To find out how it all turns out, read the book.  Tey has a witty style of writing also, and brings in some uncanny but perfect small details along the way.  There are even a few Holmes and Watson jokes.  Well worth reading for mystery fans.
*** stars. 

Brain Fruit by Stephen Oram was a gift from a friend following a recent visit to London, UK (thank you again, Caroline).  From 2025 it is a SF/Fantasy novelette published in hardcover format, something one does not see very often.  A limited edition, mine is 104 of 500.  The story concerns a bee, a bug and a piece of fruit trying to make peace with a village of androids, to the mutual benefit of everyone.  The closest thing to it that I have read before is T. H. White's The Book of Merlin, where readers get inside the lives of wild geese and later an ant colony.  I think that very often individual short stories and novelettes can get lost in 'collections' of same.  Publications like this one are not cheap and likely have very limited numbers of buyers.  But it is refreshing to see original short works receive what one might term royal treatment.  Worth reading, but good luck finding a copy.
*** 1/2 stars. 
 
After recently watching 30 episodes of Apple TV's Foundation series, it was finally time to reread the books (it's been decades).  The first novel, Foundation, is from 1951.  I read this series as a teen and remembered very little of it, except that music plays a major role somewhere.  Not in book 1.  There are two main flaws with this first novel.  The first is that it's not really a science fiction novel.  It's mostly a political story, with traders and phony priests mixed in.  The second problem is an almost complete lack of female characters.  The only woman with speaking lines is a shrewish wife after more riches and more power, and she is a very minor character.  The TV series at least made the story more science fiction than the novel, and they did add several important female characters, badly needed.  However, they totally destroyed Asimov's story.  They muddled it badly.  After watching 30 episodes I can honestly say that I don't know what the hell is going on, or who is who or why this happens.  It's a great series to look at, but it has very little skill at telling a story.  Asimov's book is very clear cut and makes perfect sense, at least.  I somewhat enjoyed the book, more than the series.  *** stars.  
 
I am reading the Kindle editions. 
 
I finished off the month with two more evolution essays by Stephen Jay Gould, finishing a 3-chapter section called Human Prehistory.  "A Lesson From the Old Masters" refers again to prehistoric cave painting, specifically a few depictions of a giant deer, and how the discovery of this art helped bolster evolutionary theory and tie up a loose end or two.  In "Our Unusual Unity" Gould takes on biases that insist that evolutionary progress is linear, something the author consistently argues against.  In a linear theory only one type of humanoid can exist at any one time, like today.  Gould argues that today's unity is not the norm, but the exception, showing how bias can affect a scientist's theory even when evidence strongly suggests otherwise.  Bush theory says that several types of early man once existed at the same time, and may have interacted in some ways. 
 
See you in a month (or perhaps two) or so.  My reading time is slowly being reduced so I don't get through as many books as I once did.  We'll see how things go, but if you don't see an August summary, there will be one in September for sure.
 
Mapman Mike 
 
 
 

 

Wednesday, 30 April 2025

April Books Read

Not a lot of volumes were read this past month.  Two of them were quite long and one of them was very intense and required careful and somewhat slow reading.  I also enjoyed 4 nights of astronomy last month, which always cuts into evening reading time.
 

Fires of Scorpio by Kenneth Bulmer, #29 in the Dray Prescott series, is a direct continuation of volume 27, beginning where Dray has just come out of the mountain tunnels.  He becomes reunited with his friend, but is immediately dragged away again by the Star Lords to another location and assignment.   His main purpose now seems to be to interrupt the religion of the Silver Leem.  He arrives at a point where a female child is to be sacrificed to their god.  Of course he saves the girl, and the first part of the story is enlivened by the presence of the child accompanied by Dray.  She has a personality (she is just under 4 years of age) and adds humour to the proceedings.  The latter half of the story is more serious.  Dray is reunited with another warrior friend who is also a chosen one in aiding the Star Lords in whatever it is they are trying to accomplish.  They team up again and the adventures are nonstop until the end of the book.  Though they have managed to disrupt the religion, there is a lot more to do.  And on it goes....  Another solid entry in this remarkable series. 
 
 
From 1974 comes Eater of Worlds, the 126 page on-going adventures of Kennedy and his male cohorts.  This time they are assigned to a case where a prisoner who was being transferred escaped with help.  Many innocent people were killed, and so Cap is trying to find out why this prisoner, with only a year left in his sentence, escaped.  This is one of those rare truly SF stories.  The bad guys think they are about to dig up secret treasure from a lost civilization, and the escapee was the only one with the coordinates to the site.  The location is on a barren planet (we find out later why it is barren), in a sandy desert prone to fierce wind storms.  They discover that the "treasure" lies within a protective shell in the form of a skull (I wonder what that could mean?).  Once they get inside, a very dangerous type of alien life form is released, killing anyone it touches in its form as first a liquid, and then a vapour (after someone panics and shoots it with a blaster).  It begins to spread, and it's now up to Cap and his team to try and stop it.  This is actually a very good story, and would make an excellent SF film.   
 

Collecting Myself: The Uncollected Stories of Barry Malzberg is a 2024 publication and 259 pages long and contains about 35 short stories by Malzberg.  He also contributes a very brief essay at the beginning.  The stories move chronologically from 1970 to 2022.
 
Terminus East is from 1970, and is about the failed colony on the moon.  It is a violent story, and not that appealing.  ** 1/2 stars.
 
Making Titan is from 1970 and details the bizarre 6th attempt by humans to land on Titan, Saturn's largest moon.  Will this one fail like the others, or be the first successful mission?  Remember, this is Malzberg. *** stars.
 
Exploration is from 1971 and is a Malzberg special; no one else writes about how being in space makes you crazy so well as this author.  The captain of a Mars exploratory mission loses it. **** stars.
 
Conquest is a silly tale from 1972 about first contact, which turns out to be a test for the human candidate who will be sent out to greet the aliens.  *** stars.
 
Two Odysseys Into the Center is from 1972.  This one has some pulp fiction humour attached, which ups the rating.  *** stars.
 
Dreaming and Conversions: Two Rules By Which To Love is from 1973.  Another great story of insanity and its self justification.  Of course aliens are involved.  **** stars.
 
Conversations With Lothar is from 1973.  This story and a few others were to become the 1975 novel Conversations, reviewed above.  It works well as a very short story, but the novel is quite incredibly good.  *** stars.
 
Triptych is from 1973 and is as much a satire of pulp SF as it is an homage.  Several possible pulp novels are condensed into a few paragraphs each.  Entertaining to read, and I find myself wishing I could read some of those novels.  *** stars.
 
The Wonderful, All-Purpose Transmogrifier is from 1974, and is way ahead of its time, as it describes addiction to virtual reality gaming.  Dated, obviously, but at the time well ahead of itself.  ** 1/2 stars.
 
Revelation in Seven Stages is from 1980.  Malzberg comes up with quite possibly the most bizarre and unusual use for ancient Eygptian mummies ever conceived.  Funny and weird.  *** 1/2 stars.
 
There The Lovelies Bleeding is from 1981, and tells of a blossoming romance in the far future, where such liaisons have been much frowned upon until now.  Progress against the repression is slow, but gaining momentum.  *** stars.
 
1984 is a one page story from 1985, on the expected theme.  Not too successful, in my opinion.  ** stars.
 
J. S. Brahms is from 1985 and features Sigmund Freud undertaking a cognitive test.  A pretty funny story no doubt related to Malzberg's novel.  Music afficianados will appreciate the humour more.  *** stars. 
 
The Queen of Saigon is from 1987, a story about the Vietnam War as seen through the eyes of a Saigon prostitute.  Fine storytelling of a still touchy topic.  *** stars.
 
Ambition is from 1987.  A SF story in which a communications officer is responsible for the planet of Jubilation's inhabitants rebelling against the Earth invaders.  Offbeat and very short.  *** stars.
 
No Hearts, No Flowers is from 1989.  This is a funny mob-related story, where a casual social reporter thinks he has erred in mentioning a recent mob massacre one day before it happened.  He is summoned to pay a visit to "Bruno" and realizes his time is up.  But Bruno gives him more than he bargained for.  A fun read. *** stars.
 
Safety Zone is from 1990, a somewhat bizarre tale of a barfly and a man she meets one night.  A bit puzzling, but still some fine writing.  *** stars.  
 
One Ten Three is from 1991, and is one of the funniest stories I have ever read.  A race horse talks to a betting man and tells him he will win the next race.  The man bets $80.  Did the horse win?  In a way.  A truly wonderful story, and laugh out loud at times.  **** stars.
 
Dumbarton Oaks is from 1992, a story in which the devil is given tasks by the big boss.  A bit weird.  ** stars.
 
Gotterdammerung is from 1992, and is the story of a wizard who is visited by interested parties in finding the magic ring that was lost in the river.  The wizard is outsmarted, though the ring still remains lost. *** stars. 
 
Is This The Presidential Palace? is from 1992, a typical Malzberg story about an alien with an agenda meeting a human.  Quite amusing.  ** 1/2 stars.
 
It Comes From Nothing is from 1994 and is a spin on the end of King Lear.  Not a very nice spin, either.  In fact, kind of a cruel spin.  * star.
 
Sinfonia Expansiva is from 94, and is a somewhat sex-obsessed story that doesn't really work very well. ** stars.
 
Of Dust and Fire and The Night is from 1994, and is the author's take on the star of Bethlehem and three wise men.  It never hurts to throw the legend of the phoenix bird in, either.  A bit silly, but fun. ** 1/2 stars. 
 
Close-up Photos Reveal JFK Skull On Moon is from 1994.  A bizarre story where JFK ends up on the lunar surface, Elvis is now in France after having plastic surgery to alter his face and singing in small clubs.  He is being pursued by a 102 year old female fan who just birth to twins, who turn out to be JFK and Elvis reborn.  Marilyn Monroe reveals her unsuccessful pursuit of Elvis.  *** stars.
 
Getting There is from 2002 and is another powerful Vietnam anti-war story.  **** stars.
 
The Third Part is a view of Revelations as seen from the perspective of a southern redneck.  Most odd. *** stars.
 
Crossing the Border is from 2003 and deals with a man who has a sex change.  *** stars.
 
These The Inheritors is from 2006, and tells of the revenge of the insect world on humans, with a Jewish slant. ** stars.
 
The Passion of Azazel is from 2008.  A man who recently attended therapy and made a revealing discovery about himself make a golem in the form of a goat.  Inspired by a quote from Leviticus. ***1/2 stars.
 
Why We Talk To Ourselves is from 2011, and is a meditation on the 9/11 destruction of the Twin Towers in NYC. ** stars.
 
Richard Nixon Saved From Drowning is from 2014, as we hear words and thoughts from the not so great former president.  ** stars.
 
The Terminal Villa is from 2014, and was inspired by a quote from Dick Cheney, who had dramas while recovering from heart surgery.  Meant as a tribute to J G Ballard.  ** stars.
 
The Phantom Gentleman is from 2022, and has some musing of Malzberg on his upcoming "final Journey."  ** 1/2 stars.
 
January 2018 is from 2018, and isn't much of a story to end this pretty decent collection.  ** stars. 
 
Cover by Jeff Jordan.


Mother London is from 1988, a mostly disappointing novel by Moorcock that is 496 pages long.  It purports to give glimpses of London from the 1940s through 1988, mostly through the eyes of three people who survived by were greatly affected by the Blitz.  We get a pretty strong sense of what it was like to live under the threat of German bombs during WW II, especially the dreaded V2 rockets.  David, Joseph, and Mary meet in an institution some 15 years after the war.  Mary has been in a coma since she was 15, awakening at 30.  The three become very good friends, often interacting during the story.  The problem with the book is the storytelling itself, as well as Moorcock's complete inability to depict a troubled mind.  Both Mary and Joseph seem to have some type of psychic ability, and the novel is filled with italicized inner dialogues, sometimes of others near them and sometimes of their own thoughts.  I eventually learned to just skip over these sections, as they offered up nothing for the reader.  It's a silly attempt to be avante garde, or modern, and these passages often show just how clueless the author is about inner voices.
 
The storytelling is often divided into chapters that take place in a certain year, anywhere between 1941 and 1988.  The problem is that the chronology is completely messed up, with a 1970s chapter followed by a 1940s one, and then one from the 60s.  It destroys any kind of continuity the story badly needs to build up a sound picture of the main characters and their friends and acquaintences.  At one point we attend the funeral of a friend of David's before we even know who the person is.  Although I could go back and reread the novel and try to do it chronologically, the story itself and the characters are simply not interesting enough.  Much of the book is quite dull, and it was a struggle to get through it all.
 
With a title like Mother London, we get a rather superficial glance at the great city, possibly the greatest city of the world.  I had high expectations, but alas they were not fulfilled.  I found the parts dealing with the bombing and its aftermath the most interesting part of the book, but much of the rest held little to no interest for me.  I think much of that has to do with the way Moorcock (and his editor) chose to tell the story.  It's confusing enough trying to keep track of three main characters, but to have the time jumps interfere and confuse readers further, I found a lot of this book to be a waste of time.
 
Cover by Greg Ragland.
 
 
Olaf Stapledon's Star Maker from 1937 gives the reader everything.  Literally.  The full history of not just the Universe is here, but of everything else, including god (to humans) the creator.  Stapledon simply calls him Star Maker.  Stapledon creates not a novel in any sense, but a blow by blow description (highlights only) of life in the galaxy, in all of its myriad forms.  He imagines any kind of life that is even remotely plausible, bringing it into our minds as a done deal.  He explains the many pitfalls that doomed civilization after civilization on world after world, and how gradually the galaxy somehow (he explains how, don't worry) banded minds together and began a vast collective.  The author leads us by the hand as he gradually increases the scale of discovery until we have galaxy minds contacting other galaxy minds, and as the galaxies' lives come to their inevitable end, finally reach a state of total understanding.  
 
Stapledon goes on to then to describe the creator, the Star Maker, from his (he uses the masculine but by now we know what he means) own creation from pure matter, on to his juvenile creations, to his later masterpieces as he reaches his prime.  His final definition of the Star Maker did not please a lot of people, C. S. Lewis for one.  To this reader it is a totally brilliant concept, so far beyond and removed from the simplistic version of god held by most religious doctrines as to make it seem more than a possible answer.  Of course the author is limited to what was known about astrophysics in 1937 (stellar evolution is all wrong here, for one thing), but I think he can be forgiven this.  Considering this is fiction, his facts are pretty secure.
 
Stapledon influenced virtually every serious SF and fantasy writer, from E. R. Eddison, Jack Williamson, James Blish, Frank Herbert, Iain M. Banks, and on and on.  From this volume comes every story ever told, every story that will ever be told, and stories by the trillions that will never get told, due to a shortage of time remaining for our universe to exist.  The book, like his earlier Last and First Men, is all-encompassing.  Like it or not, Stapledon has given us a comprehensive and plausible history of everything that ever was or ever will be.  Rich reading.  A masterpiece.
 
Cover by Bip Pares.  I read the Kindle edition by Delphi Classics. 
 
Gitanjali is a set of 103 verses by Rabindraneth Tagore.  Written in Bengali in 1910, Tagore did his own translation into English in 1912.  He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913 largely due to these amazing verses.  Ideally a person would read one of these a day for 103 days, and meditate on them.  Many are similar, though, and can be read carefully over a few days, as I did.  They can and should picked up at whim and opened to any verse.  Most of them deal with a human being trying to see and communicate with his god.  The verses made a nice follow up to Star Maker, placing human endeavour fairly high on the scale of evolution.  It's always nice to know that a few humans have made a significant spiritual journey during the short time allotted to us.
Prior to this came the short poem "My Golden Bengali," written in 1906 shortly after Bengal had been divided into two different religious states.
 
Mapman Mike
 

Sunday, 31 March 2024

March 2024 Reading Summary

March saw us do a week of travelling, and though I managed to read some at airports and at night in hotels, I did lose a lot of reading time overall.  There were also several astronomy nights in there, where I traded my night time reading for star gazing.  Despite this, I managed to get through 11 books, one of them a slim volume of poetry.  So here they are....
 
This month included my last Silverberg SF reading.  All done.  Tout fini, as they say in Montreal.  This time I read the last volume of his short stories, published in chronological order.  So these were stories from the late 90s  up to around 2010.  VOLUME 9:  THE MILLENNIUM EXPRESS 1995-2009 contains 16 stories, each one introduced by the author.  Several are novellas, which was Silverberg's preferred length of story (70-90 pages, usually).  Many of the stories are quite poor and not really worth reading, but there were a few gems.  "A Piece of The Great World" is from 2005, and is 72 pages long.  This novella is directly related to Silverberg's brilliant full length novel series told in At Winter's End and The New Springtime.  He had plans to write a third novel in the series, but it never came to be.  However, a detailed outline was written, and this novella relates one part of that unfinished trilogy.  Though a good enough story, it cannot replace the missing epic novel we all hoped would be forthcoming one day.  The story takes place 200 years after people have left the long winter cocoons.  Readers get to fly across the country this time, and then visit part of the southern coast of the Mediterranean Sea, on an anthropological expedition to find the last remaining group of a vanished race.  The entire premise of the story is quite sad, though.  Well worth reading for fans of the two novels.  "Defenders of The Frontier" is from 2010, and is 40 pages long.  A depressing but well told tale that Silverberg wrote for an anthology of stories about warriors.  This would make a great little film, or even a theatrical live stage production.  11 men at a frontier outpost have lost contact with their home city over the years.  When no other enemies can be located, they contemplate leaving their fort and attempt to return home.  Well done!
 
Cover art by Tomasz Maronski.
 
Savage Scorpio is the 16th book of Kenneth Bulmer's Dray Prescott series, and the second one in the Valian Cycle.  Bulmer is now so comfortable with his Dray Prescott hero, as are we, that we can enjoy seeing his character trying to grapple with his own character development.  He considers himself a peaceful man, even as he goes about chopping up enemies with his sword.  These enemies, however, are usually asking for it, and attack first.  The ones who survive an encounter with Dray are usually conked on the head and put to sleep while he carries out various clandestine actions.  There is usually some form of humour on nearly every page, which also helps keep the pages turning.  In this adventure, the Emperor of Vallia, Delia's father and Dray's father-in-law, is being poisoned by enemies, and Dray and Delia must get him to the sacred pool in time to save his life.  There is no love lost between the two men, and Dray only helps because of Delia.  This adds to the frustration level of things for readers, for Dray is never thanked for his life saving heroic deeds, but it also adds to the humour, as the tense scenes between the two men are often quite funny.  As usual for each successive volume, we learn a bit more about the Star Lords, those mysterious figures who seem to control Dray as if he were their puppet.  This is another solid entry in the series.
 
From 1956 comes E. C. Tubb's Trail Blazers the kind of story that most people would recognize as a 'true' western.  It concerns a cattle drive from Texas to Cheyenne, Wyoming, before there were any cattle trails to follow.  Besides natural obstacles such as desert, gullies, rivers, mountains, etc. there were also Indians to consider, and an evil bunch of gangsters in Kansas called the Jayhawkers.  Once again Tubb's very enlightened view of Indians comes through loud and clear in the voice of his hero.  But that doesn't stop a lot of Indians from getting killed, as well as whites who get in the way of the drive.  One of my favourite TV shows as a kid was called Rawhide.  It starred a very young Clint Eastwood as the assistant head drover, and Eric Fleming as the man in charge.  It ran for 8 seasons and a total of 217 50 minute episodes.  The unforgettable theme song was by Dmitri Tiomkin.  Tubb's novel predates the series by 3 years, but is so close to the Rawhide series in spirit that it's hard to believe that it wasn't part of it.  As usual with Tubb, this is a good read, and not far from the truth of what the early west was like.

From 1995 come the first book in Michael Moorcock's Second Ether Trilogy.  It is called Blood: A Southern Fantasy, is 336 pages long, and is a truly awful book.  Mixing SF pulp fiction (the really bad kind) with some kind of avant garde style of writing, there isn't a single redeeming page in this unholy mess of a novel.  This isn't the first Moorcock novel this reviewer has panned, but I hope it will be the last.  There are four main characters, two men and two women.  They are gamblers, after the Earth has pretty much been swallowed up by a vast black hole sort of thing near Biloxi, MS.  After all, what else do people in Mississippi do but gamble.  Our heroes inject themselves into the Game of Time, and play for stakes that only Moorcock might understand.  As usual, it's Chaos against Law, and the gamblers are hoping to keep a balance in the multiverse.  So what.  Many reviewers of Moorcock are truly afraid to call him out when he goes off the rails and wastes our time.  This novel goes way off the rails (deep into the muddy Mississippi River) and wastes our time.  I dread the thought of reading the two sequels, and may not...
 
Lastly from the Avon/Equinox stable of writers comes the next book, Havana Hit, from 1974, in the exciting series of adventures undertaken by Burt Wulf, vigilante.  It is 154 pages and is book #5.  Formally of the NYPD narcotics squad, and before that a Vietnam veteran, Wulf is out to single handed take down the drug trade in America.  So far he is doing a pretty good job, too.  Though this one has its share of murder and explosions, and even a sort of car chase, it is a much more restrained story than the previous ones.  Leaving Las Vegas for New York with his valise of recaptured heroin, Wulf's plane is hijacked to--where else--Cuba.  Virtually everyone there who comes in contact with the valise becomes instantly corrupted by the financial possibilities.  Wulf wants his captured valise back, where he has plans to take it to New York, where it had been stolen from the evidence room at the precinct by a bad cop.  But he has his work cut out for him in Havana.  There is a lot more introspection and existentialism in this novel, mostly involving thinking about death.  Wulf is helped by an American freelancer, before ultimately being betrayed by him.  For the second time we see Wulf getting close to someone, but this relationship goes sour at the end.  As usual, Malzberg's writing can get the reader's blood flowing quickly and the heart pounding at times.  Chapters often fly past without readers even knowing they have begun a new one.  A good series so far, and definitely a guilty pleasure.  Still, it's not that much different from a good samurai tale.
 
Now we can move on to my collection of Delphi Classics writers, which seems to grow each month.  Moving alphabetically through the list of writers use to take about a year before I'd be back at the "A" authors.  Now it's more like a year and a half.  I began with a collection of 40 poems by Rabindranith Tagore.  Called The Crescent Moon, it is from 1913.  Several poems, each one about a page long, are accompanied by watercolour images done by friends, harkening back to the tradition of Indian miniature painting.  The earliest poems express feelings towards a new baby (which he compares to a crescent moon), while later ones give a child's perspective looking out towards mother and father.  "Authorship" is quite charming, as the child questions his mother as to why father is always writing at the desk.  They are easy to read, but offer no hint as to what is to come from this man's pen.
 
Next is Olaf Stapledon's third novel.  Odd John is from 1935, and purports to be a case study of a rare and unique child growing up in England.  The author acknowledges the influence of another British writer.  J. D. Beresford's The Hampdenshire Wonder is from 1911, and it's genius child, Victor Stott, is mentioned in Stapledon's book more than once.  Beresford in turn credits Jules Verne for influencing his writing.  Now we just need to establish who influenced Verne.   John's  life is short (he will die at 23, we are told near the beginning).  After 11 months he is finally forced from the womb, but is still premature and only just manages to survive.  He finally decides to walk at six years, and his talking starts late, too.  By ten he is a criminal and murderer, but manages to get his life back on track, though his 'experiments' continue on Homo Sapiens.  The narrator is a journalist, a friend of the family, and becomes John's companion in many of his adventures.  The book becomes much more interesting in the final chapters, as John and others like him establish a colony on a remote South Sea island.  Many races are represented, including two Africans, something I cannot recall from any other novels until recent time.  All are telepaths, and far beyond humans in most things.  In addition, these people are not just freakish in their intelligence, but also in their physical features, which are more than somewhat grotesque.  The main thing that the book makes clear is that a very few people are so far beyond being human in intelligence that they find it impossible to remain sane while living among them.  Stapledon, so far as I have read (first 3 novels) is not so much a storyteller, but a chronicler.  The difference between an author telling us a story and a journalist, if you like.  But he is a pretty amazing journalist.  This book is an odd one, like its main character.  It's difficult to put it into a category of SF, as like his two previous books, it pretty much stands alone.  Worth a read, especially if you sometimes feel like you don't really belong to society.
 
Jules Verne's From The Earth To The Moon was published in 1865.  Like other novels by Verne, this story is filled with the latest up to date science from its day, as well as geographical knowledge of America.  But it's not all about the science; the satire is priceless.  Parts of this book, especially the early chapters, are among the funniest things I have ever read.  Largely poking fun at Americans and their love of guns (some things never change), many other countries also take a hit, especially Britain.  But the author also pokes fun at France, Switzerland, Spain, and many others.  Having recently visited the Florida State Highpoint (345'), it is amusing to see the giant gun built atop a Florida hill over 1800' high.  Also at the time, the highest point in the American Rockies was 10,600', where a large telescope was needed to build to see the projectile once launched (!).  And that mountain was in Missouri!  But geography and science facts aside, Verne hits a home run with this fanciful tale of three men launched to the moon from Earth.  Great fun!  The sequel came later, and will be reported upon here someday.
 
First English edition cover art.
 
Next came another great old classic, H. G.Wells' The Island of Dr. Moreau, from 1896.  This is much more a horror story than a SF one, and indeed becomes quite horrifying at times.  Some of the atmosphere comes through well in the 1930s Charles Laughton version, but the book itself provides all the necessary inner pictures necessary to imagine the island, the doctor, and the native inhabitants.  There have been so many novels set on uncharted Pacific islands, but this must remain as one of the best of them.  What the storyteller has to go through by the end of the novel has to be one of the most harrowing adventures ever told in fiction.  Permanent damage is done to his pysche; even once back safely in London he can no longer view people as harmless and with the ability to love one another.  Moreau's vivisection experiments and his alteration of beasts into men would likely drive anyone mad.  Some parts are actually difficult to read.  A completely amazing and original novel, and one that I would likely read again.
 
The original cover from the 1877 edition. 
 
The Duchess of Padua is a five act play from 1883, and was Oscar Wilde's 2nd play.  It was written for a specific actress, who refused it.  The play has never done well, though in the late 1890s it played in New York for 3 weeks.  It reads like a weak Shakespeare entry.  The action centres around a young man who is groomed to avenge his father's death at the hands of a cruel duke, and the duke's wife, who falls in love with the young man.  It's all been written before, and there are no new lines of any value here, despite a bit of Wilde's wit coming through in the later acts.  It certainly shows promise, however, as the events, action, and writing show the writer to have been very well read and able to maintain a certain tradition and uphold its values.  But we must be patient.  Soon the Wilde we all know and love will be ready to show his stuff.

I finished up with an early Edgar Wallace crime novel called The Four Just Men, from 1905.  The story is about a small group of vigilantes who carry out assassinations of people worthy of being murdered.  In this case, an unjust law (in their humble opinion) is about to be passed in the British House, and they threaten to kill the minister in charge unless he retracts the bill.  Wallace stretches credibility somewhat in his attempt to make the four men super intelligent and infinitely resourceful.  However, in the end, while they do achieve their goals, they barely manage it, and one of them gets killed.  This is pretty good writing, and the pages turn almost on their own.  It helps that the novel isn't overly long.

Mapman Mike

 

 

Wednesday, 4 January 2023

Last and First Men: The Movie

Springlike weather continues, though near the Detroit River it has been perpetually foggy.  I haven't seen a ship pass by in days now, but they can certainly be heard.  Foghorns are sounding nearly every minute at certain times.

In music news, I have succeeded in gathering a small group of performing pianists to meet occasionally to try out pieces on one another.  So far there are 3 of us, but this could easily grow larger quickly.  First meeting is tentatively scheduled for the morning of January 23rd.  Looking forward to it!!

In further music news, we were able to locate a recent film based on Olaf Stapledon's 1930 novel First and Last Men.  Conceived originally as a multimedia presentation with images, a narrator, and music, the film worked its magic for us from the opening shot to the closing one.  The film and music is by Johann Johannson, from Iceland in 2020.  He shot the incredible black and white (!) photography mostly in Yugoslavia, at a sculpture park in the mountains, and composed ambient music that is nothing short of alien and futuristic.  Tilda Swinton narrates, speaking words of Stapledon's that give a sense of the final part of the book.  There is no way that the entire book could have been filmed in one go.  Johannson died shortly after the film was made, thus destroying any hope for more chapters from the most incredible SF book ever written.  Now it has a suitable film companion.

Now showing on Mubi. 

We made some fun discoveries this week as a result of chasing down a copy of this film.  One of them is a streaming service called Mubi.  It is a good partner for Criterion, though this one does not have as large a library.  Still, there are enough films now in our queue to keep us going for months, even if we stopped watching Criterion (which we hopefully never will).  Another discovery we made was Spotify (I know, but we're old; these things take time for us).  Here we found the album of music from the film, and have now hooked the computer via Bluetooth into our stereo.

We originally got into Spotify by reading a recent article in the Guardian.  One of the writers has selected a different short piece of music to listen to every day in January, and in the article there is a direct link to the piece on Spotify.  Except that yesterday's (the 3rd) was on Youtube, and it came with an accompanying animation.  Fun stuff!!  So we now have a long listening list awaiting in favourites on Spotify.

Getting back to films, I finished up my December Film Festival with two more by Jasujiro Ozu.  Tokyo Chorus is a silent film from 1931 that follows the life of a young man.  Seen first as a student in a military type school, he is later encountered as an insurance salesman who loses his job when he stands up to the boss over the firing of an older employee.  There is comedy mixing with drama, and the picture is easy to watch.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Lastly came a 1936 film called The Only Son.  Leaving his small village for Tokyo, a young man goes to seek his fortune.  His mother has sacrificed everything to pay for his education.  When she pays a surprise visit to him, she finds him married, with one child, and teaching night school.  She is not impressed, until she sees him act kindly towards a poorer neighbour.  She goes back home with good memories of her visit.  Back at home, the young man has decided to continue his education so that he can get a better paying job.  Ozu's films are always intelligent, and never stretch things beyond what might likely happen in a certain situation.  He is excellent at establishing character, and at getting across emotions in people who are usually reluctant to show what their true feelings really are.

Now showing on Criterion.  

Deb's going away choice for this week was a Sam Fuller western called Forty Guns.  It stars Barbara Stanwyck as a rancher with forty hired guns as helpers, and she mostly gets her way in the world.  The opening scene, with Stanwyck riding hard and followed by her tribe, is very much like watching the opening to Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.  The characters of both are very similar, too.  A Federal marshal comes to town to arrest one of her helpers for robbing the mail.  Things get tense, people get shot, and the bad guys stir things up.  An unusual western, with Stanwyck doing her usual fine job in the leadership role.  Unusual scenes include the outdoor  town baths, complete with singer and guitar player, and dinner time at Stanwyck's ranch, among others.  Filmed in b & w Cinemascope!

Leaving Criterion January 31st. 

Mapman Mike



 


  

Sunday, 1 January 2023

December 2022 Books Read

It was a foggy and mild New Year's Day here at the Homestead, and the ships along the Detroit River sounded mournful as they passed by.  If one is looking towards hopeful new things for 2023, today's weather will not be very inspiring.  Even so, this is typical weather for us at this time.  We have seen more foggy New Year's Eves than any other type.  Last weekend was the coldest and windiest it ever gets here, whereas this weekend it's been raining since Friday, not to mention quite dark.

We had an enjoyable party for two last night, with wood fire, lasagna, some music, and talk of Olaf Stapledon's writing.  That led us on a search for a recent film of his novel Last and First Men, on a streaming channel with a 7-day free preview.  So watch for that review soon!  And we ordered the blu ray disc of Aniara from Amazon.

In reading news, I begin as usual with the seven remaining authors of the Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery series.  Incidentally, that blog site of mine remains very popular with readers.  Lately, someone from Hong Kong has been delving into my Michael Moorcock page, though most hits seem to come from the USA.  However, recent large numbers of hits also came from Netherlands, Portugal, and Switzerland.  Reliable author Robert Silverberg got things started for me with his 1990 Letters From Atlantis.  Written in epistle format, it tells of two time travelers visiting Atlantis, sharing the mind and bodies of two natives of that ancient time.  The book is also a prequel of sorts to Silverberg's Star of Gypsies from 1986.  Though the present book can be read unaccompanied, it makes a decent series with the original.  Incidentally, the method of taking over an earlier mind goes back to Olaf Stapledon in his first two novels.  It is a direct ripoff of the earlier author, who continues to influence SF writing to this day.  Letters is not a particularly good book, and teenagers would likely have trouble getting through it (a lot of the short novel is description of buildings, rituals, daily life, etc. in Atlantis.

Next came Alien Plot, a 1992 collection of 17 short stories by Piers Anthony.  None of the stories are great, but a few are worth reading.  My favourite was called Soft Like A Woman, from 1988, about a woman crew member of a secret military mission who single handedly saves the day.  Also fun to read was a half page story called To The Death, about a martial arts expert challenging an ascetic to a duel.  This was the first of 3 stories that had to be 50 words or less, and this one is very good.  Revise and Invent is a very funny tale about a writer trying to follow various editors' advice to get his story published.

Kenneth Bulmer's Fox series continues to entertain me, being one of the best sea faring adventure series ever conceived.  Bulmer's sense of humour and deadly irony are ever present , as well as enough action to satisfy any pulp novel reader.  In Fox #9: Cut and Thrust we again spend a long time on shore between missions.  When he is recalled to active duty, he is given command of a gunboat, and ends up saving a disastrous mission against the French navy.  Most of Bulmer's writing is very consistent and top notch, and this book is a great example of that.

Book 3 of E C Tubb's endless series about Dumarest, a planet-hopping adventurer, is called Toyman, and is a good entry in the series.  Like Bulmer, Tubb is usually a very reliable writer.  We now have the goods on the series, with Dumarest's character (such as it is) mostly predictable in most situations.  Even his situations are now mostly predictable (he will have to fight a lot; he will never stay in one place; he keeps searching for Earth, his home planet).  In this adventure, which takes place entirely on the planet of Toy, Dumarest has travelled there to use their famous main library computer to find out anything he can about Earth.  People always mock the name of Earth, saying it is a quite ridiculous name, while in turn living on a planet called "Toy."  Go figure.  There are a few neat plot twists near the end, and a final symbolic kick in the teeth for Dumarest, as he finally gets his wish to ask the library for information about Earth.  The fight scenes are some of Tubb's best, and the finale in the maze is also quite well done.  Overall a worthy pulp fiction read.

Next came the first half of a large hardcover compilation of early stories by Jack Williamson.   Spider Island: Vol 4 of the Collected Stories contains 12 stories, 9 essays, and many images.  I read the first half in December, and will finish the volume in January.  The stories, all from the mid 30s, range from the ridiculous to the barely readable, suitable for a 14 year old in the 1930s, perhaps, but not many others.  Considering what Olaf Stapledon was writing in the 30s.....  The main problem here is the one dimensional character, both good and bad.  The Blue Spot is probably the most readable of the lot, as it at least has two strong female characters (always called "girls" in SF from this time).  There are also two stories that aren't too bad from a type where the final explanation has to have no supernatural cause, but during the story it might seem that such was the case.  One of them, The Mark of the Monster, is very much in the Lovecraft tradition, and does provide some chills.

Next came the first half of an Elric volume by Michael Moorcock.  Two sets of four novellas are collected under two umbrella titles.  I read The Stealer of Souls, which actually contained two excellent Elric stories read previously.  The Dreaming City and When the Gods Laugh are both from 1961, and are featured in the Elric collection Elric: Song of the Black Sword (see above).  Next came two novellas new to me, both from 1962.  Stealer of Souls is a decent story in which Elric seeks help from his homeless kinsmen in taking down an evil wizard.  At first he is hired by merchants to kill the most successful merchant in the city, but plans evolve.  Lots of magic, some grim fighting, and some humour.  In Kings In Darkness Elric and his friend rescue a girl and agree to lead her safely home, after her family and guards were attacked and killed (though most of the mercenary guards ran away).  On the way they take a detour through a creepy forest, and have dealings with the murderous king who dwells there.  A pretty dark adventure.  Elric ends up marrying the young woman they rescue.

There was one other good Elric story as well, from 1962.  The Caravan of Forgotten Dreams has a barbarian hoard bearing down on the city where Elric lives with his wife.  Well now, did those barbarians ever pick the wrong city to molest.  With cats, dragons, magic, and bloodshed, this is a worthy addition to the Elric chronicles.

Last in the Avon/Equinox authors read last month was a brilliant early novel by Barry Malzberg called In My Parents' Bedroom.  From 1971, this 125 page non SF novel was the author's way of telling some of his personal story to readers when he turned 30.  And while the tale is autobiographical, it is also so much more.  Rather than tell a straight forward story of what it was like growing up with his parents and sister in the 1950s and early 1960s, he takes us on a guided tour of the former apartment where they all lived.  The apartment is now a National Historic Site, and the Westerfield family has become the picture postcard of a bygone era.  All of the family's rooms are preserved as they were, as well as many of their personal belongings.  Though Michael, as a family member, is not supposed to visit the home, he takes his girlfriend on the half day tour.  There are no surviving photos of him, so he is not recognized.

The tour begins in the main living room, then proceeds to the kitchen, bathroom, and three bedrooms upstairs.  By the time we finally get to the gift shop and restaurant (a totally hilarious experience), we have come to know the small tour group and guide as well as we now know the Westerfield family and how they lived.  There are many priceless moments along the way, though most people who don't get Malzberg's dark humour and cast iron irony will be left thinking that the book is shallow, with too much sex.  I am so happy that Malzberg is being republished today.  Virtually all of his literary works are again in print and available on Kindle.  I came upon this author just in time for my reading project.  This particular novel had not been available again until very recently.  It is a small masterpiece of storytelling, and besides showing the banality of life "back then", we read it today and ask ourselves, has anything really changed much?
 
******************
With the 7 Avon/Equinox authors' works read before the middle of December, I had time to read 7 more books taken off the shelf and from my Kindle collection of complete works of certain authors.  I begin with the 2nd novel of Guy Gavriel Kay's Fionavar Tapestry Trilogy, called The Wandering Fire.  Still an early work from 1986, there are nevertheless hints of what was to come forth from this incredible writer.  This 2nd novel could also have been called "Everything But The Kitchen Sink," as the author throws the entire Arthurian mythology into the soup mix.  At first I found it quite funny and more than a little off putting, but once the magic settles down for a little while the premise becomes acceptable and fun.  Not a great fantasy novel by any leap of the imagination, but miles ahead of most people writing fantasy garbage today, who seem to have learned nothing from their predecessors.  The final act of reaching the enchanted island and trying to defeat the evil wizard is worthy of the best of Fritz Leiber or Michael Moorcock.  I am looking forward to the concluding book in the series, and then moving on through the rest of Kay's books.

Cover of the month goes to Ted Nasmith's wraparound painting for The Fionavar Tapestry. 
 
Next came some poetry and a novel by Vita Sackville-West.  She was born at Knole House, Kent, a calendar house.  It had 365 rooms, 52 staircases, 12 entrances, and 7 courtyards.  She grew up there, but the house went to her younger brother on the death of her parents, something which she was quite bitter about (eldest son gets the goods).  Two early poetry collections yielded a few gems.  Constantinople is a collection of 8 poems from 1915, of which "Muezzin" is noteworthy.  From 1917 came a larger collection called Poems From East and West.  Two of these stand out: "To Knole," a poem about growing up at her ancestral home; and "A Creed," a poem which immediately sets her apart from most of mankind at that time.
 
Then I read her first novel, Heritage, from 1919.  Told in three parts, as many books were then, it follows the life and love of a young man from the city and a girl from Kent farm country.  Not a great novel in any sense of the term, it is still readable and enjoyable in its small scale tale of love lost, and then won.  There are memorable moments, and no doubt it would make a good PBS TV series.
 
Next came George Bernard Shaw's earliest play, but preceded by two even earlier fragments of plays.  The longer of these fragments is from 1878 (he was 22), called Passion Play, and is a very funny look inside the house of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph during his early years.  Totally sacrilegious in its vocabulary and unstinting take-down of the great myth of Jesus (and especially Mary), it's a shame this was never completed.  Of course it would have never been performed anywhere anyway, and he likely realized that at a certain point and just stopped writing.  Well worth seeking out.  Next came a short play fragment from 1889 called The Cassonne.  There isn't much distinctive about this later work, of which only a few pages were written.  Then comes his first completed play, called Widows' Houses, from 1892.  It is a social commentary play, and tackles the tricky subject of housing the poor, and making money from the suffering of others.  Parts of it are very well done, but the final outcome is rather unsatisfactory, as there is no easy answer to the problem.  Still, it likely got people talking.
 
The Double Shadow and Other Fantasies is a 1933 collection of stories by Clark Ashton Smith, a writer who is much better than Lovecraft at certain types of tales, and far surpasses Robert E Howard.  Lin Carter published most of his stories in his own made up thematic collections throughout the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series, and Smith was one of the best discoveries I made at that time.  So I am now reading the stories in the order they were published.  The first three stories are among the best fantasy tales ever put to paper, equal to the very best Jorkens stories by Lord Dunsany.  "The Voyage of King Euvoren" shows the influence of the Arabian Nights tales on a young Smith, especially the Sinbad tales.  "The Maze of the Enchanter" turns the typical Conan story on its head, and the ending is so brilliant that I won't even discuss it.  Let's jsut say that Roberet E. Hoard wold not have approved, though he might have laughed a lot.  One of the finest tales of sorcery ever written.  Likewise "The Double Shadow,"a story that pits a sorcerer and his apprentice against the oldest and most feared magic ever imagined.  A horror tale like no other.  Of the remaining three stories, only "The Willow Landscape" is worth mentioning.  This is a much more gentle tale of magic and sorcery.
 
Stargazer is a 2021 Navajo mystery novel from Anne Hillerman, and it takes place in parts of New Mexico with which we are very familiar.  It involves astronomy, too, so I enjoyed it even more.  My one complaint about the main character, a female Navajo police officer, is that she is essentially given the characteristics of a child, rather than an adult.  She drinks too much pop, eats burgers, doesn't eat any fruit or veg, and only takes pepperoni on her pizza.  Her day to day thoughts are usually so mundane as to be almost scary, mostly concerned with her aging mother and somewhat wild younger sister.  However, there are times in this book when looking up at the night sky seems to ground her a bit, and lift her thoughts to the more spiritual aspects of living.
 
Olaf Stapledon's second novel was written two years after his first, and has a direct connection to it.  Called Last Men In London, it is from 1932 and perfectly complements his first one, called Last and First Men.  Stapledon's works are worth seeking out for those of us looking for spiritual gratification in our reading.  His books read much like what a documentary film is to viewers, and do not necessarily follow any traditions of what a novel, especially a SF one, should be.  In this book, a future human from 2 billion years in the future returns to explore the mind of a man from London in the years before, during, and after the First World War.  I eventually had to stop bookmarking pages, as I would have ended up bookmarking virtually every page.  As much philosophy, ethics, and spiritual guidance as it is fiction, it is a must read book (though one reading will not be satisfactory).  One does not rush through a Stapledon book, and I highly recommend keeping a notebook handy.  One of the highlights, among many, is the section or chapter that has to do with the birth of a child, and following it through its early years.  Priceless and unforgettable.
 
Lastly read was Jules Verne's 3rd novel (his 2nd was not yet available for my Delphi Collection), one of his most famous and entertaining ones.  I first read Journey To The Center of the Earth (1864) as a young high school student, perhaps age 15.  The title is a bit of a misnomer, as the professor, his nephew, and Hans never make it to the center, but the adventure is great fun anyway.  There is a lot of humour in the story.  The professor is a madman, and reminded me a lot of Beethoven (I also read a long chapter of his biography by Swafford this month).  The book heavily influenced Edgar Rice Burroughs, whose Pellucidar series takes place beneath the Earth.  Even as a boy, I liked how the book was slow to start, gradually building up to the trip to Iceland, then across the barrens to the mountain they would climb, and then descend within.  Once underground, things happen more quickly, and the ending is one of the great ones from adventure writing at its best.
 
I'll be back soon with a film update, and any other news that's fit to print.
 
Mapman Mike