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Captain Alatriste by Arturo Pérez-Reverte

Captain Alatriste by Arturo Pérez-Reverte

oie_21724427RUFUMWe

Was once a captain,
the story goes,
who led me in battle,
though in death’s throes.
Oh, senores! What an apt man
was that brave captain.
— E. Marquina, The Sun Has Set in Flanders

Spain’s Golden Age ran from roughly 1492, the final year of the Reconquista, until 1659 and the signing of the Treaty of the Pyrenees with France. During that period seemingly endless rivers of gold and silver from the kingdom’s colonies around the world flowed into its coffers. The disciplined soldiers of her vaunted tercios (commands of about 3,000 men) were respected and feared across Europe. Great cathedrals and palaces were built and painting and literature flourished as never before.

But a rot had set in, unseen by many, by the early 17th century. Inflation, corruption, expulsions of Jews and Moors, and endless wars would render Spain a mortally wounded empire that would slowly wither away over the subsequent two centuries. In 1623, though, Madrid is a glorious city of poets and dashing swordsmen. One of the greatest of the latter is Diego Alatriste y Tenorio, the hero of Captain Alatriste (1996) by Arturo Pérez-Reverte. It’s been a while since I reviewed a historical adventure, so I decided to dive into the first book in this still-running series.

Disappointed with the lack of information about the Golden Age in his daughter’s textbooks, Pérez-Reverte took it upon himself to write a book exploring that dramatic period. His most obvious inspiration were the swashbuckling historical romances of Alexandre Dumas. Undoubtedly influenced by two decades as a war correspondent, his exposure to the darkness of combat also permeates Captain Alatriste.

Alatriste is a veteran of years of conflict with Spain’s recalcitrant subjects in the Netherlands and the Turks, having run away as a drummer boy at the age of 13. Now, some thirty-odd years later, the recently ended truce with the Netherlands has brought him back to Madrid. Struggling to make a living with the only skills he posseses, Alatriste sells his sword and strong arm to whomever will pay. In the past he has been hired to kill one man’s rival at court, and the lover of another’s wife. In this novel, the first of seven to date, he and the Italian swordman, Gualterio Malatesta, are hired to waylay and rob two men. Initially told not to hurt the strangers too badly, they are later given conflicting orders to, in fact, kill them. During the attack Alatriste comes to believe things are not as simple as they seem, as well as being struck by the honor of one of his two intended victims. The rest of the novel involves the fallout from Alatriste’s decision to prevent the men’s deaths, as powerful men at the center of the Empire’s complex and corrupt power structure turn their attention to the veteran sell-sword. And that’s it. That’s pretty much the plot of Captain Alatriste.

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Prowling and Howling Through the Moonlit Forests of Lycanthropia: Thomas McNulty’s Werewolves!

Prowling and Howling Through the Moonlit Forests of Lycanthropia: Thomas McNulty’s Werewolves!

Werewolves! A Study of Lycanthropes in Film, Folklore and Literature-small Werewolves! A Study of Lycanthropes in Film, Folklore and Literature-back-small

Werewolves! A Study of Lycanthropes in Film, Folklore and Literature
By Thomas McNulty.
BearManor Media (215 pages, including Notes and Sources, Selected Werewolf Filmography, Bibliography, and Index; $19.95 in trade paperback, November 17, 2011)

Thomas McNulty’s Werewolves! is an insightful, informative and scholarly look at the legend and cinestory (film history) of werewolves.  Now, I consider myself a pretty fair hand when it comes to all things “lycanthropic,” but McNulty has me beat by a mile.  I learned about films I’d never heard of before, such as The Werewolf, a lost 1913 silent film; 1995’s Huntress: Spirit of the Night; and 2003’s Dark Wolf (which I have finally viewed and highly recommend.)

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Lovecraft’s Dreamlands Via Graphic Novel: Charles Cutting’s Kadath

Lovecraft’s Dreamlands Via Graphic Novel: Charles Cutting’s Kadath

 However, unlike Bill Haley, Lovecraft still owns his genre
However, unlike Bill Haley, Lovecraft still owns his genre
It's like the lovechild of Brighton Pavilion and Portmeirion as raised by Michael Moorcock
It’s like the lovechild of Brighton Pavilion and Portmeirion as raised by Michael Moorcock

HP Lovecraft is a bit like Bill Haley; he arguably created his own genre, but few people now consume his work for simple pleasure.

Just as modern people typically discover Rock and Roll through [your favourite band here], they come to the Cthulhu Mythos through Charles Stross’s Laundry Files(*), through the madness of the Cthulhu Fluxx cardgame, or through the roleplaying game Call of Cthulhu.

Kids…? Well my daughter (8) has a plush Cthulhu who spends most of his time in the naughty corner for trying to eat the faces of the other toys.

Nobody, typically, just happens to pick up an HP Lovecraft book. If they do, they probably bounce. Let’s just say that speculative fiction has produced better stylists and that “of his time” is proving to be less and less able to explain away his racism.

However, unlike Bill Haley, Lovecraft still owns his genre. He pretty much nailed Cosmic Horror, and though we have chipped off racist carbuncles, all the tropes still bear his mason’s mark.

This means that Lovecraft’s Mythos serves the the same function in the Geek community as the Classical world served amongst educated Victorians. They would remark on somebody being “Hector-like”, we joke that our  pasta bake “turned into a Shoggoth”.

This creates the interesting problem that the our shared subculture leans heavily on a set of texts that are increasingly unreadable for both literary and ethical reasons!

The answer, of course, is to retell the stories in other media, which is where books like Charles Cutting’s graphic novel Kadath come in.

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Logical Swords & Sorcery: The Tritonian Ring by L. Sprague de Camp

Logical Swords & Sorcery: The Tritonian Ring by L. Sprague de Camp

oie_1461552JKlZM7ZLLyon Sprague de Camp’s first published story was “The Isolinguals” in 1937. During the 1930s and 40s he became a significant author, writing dozens of stories and numerous novels. His time travel novel Lest Darkness Fall (1939) is considered a classic and is still read today. Alongside such genre standard bearers as Robert Heinlein and Isaac Asimov, he is considered one of the authors responsible for bringing greater sophistication to science fiction. He was the fourth Grand Master as chosen by the Science Fiction Writers of America in 1979, and in 1984 he was given the World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement. His 1996 autobiography, Time and Chance, won a Hugo Award. In his lifetime he was well-regarded and successful.

To call de Camp a polarizing figure is an understatement. His control over Robert E. Howard’s Conan character for so many years, his ham-fisted editing of Howard’s stories, his ruthless strangling of any effort to get pure, unadulterated Conan into print, raised the ire of readers. For an incredibly detailed history of de Camp’s relationship with REH’s work and legacy, I highly recommend tracking down Morgan Holmes’ 16-part series, “The de Camp Controversy.”

De Camp first encountered the character of Conan when his friend Fletcher Pratt tossed him a copy of Conan the Conqueror. According to Lin Carter, de Camp “yielded helplessly to Howard’s gusto and driving narrative energies.” In 1951 de Camp decided to try his own hand at Howardian swords & sorcery and wrote The Tritonian Ring. He sold it to the clunkily-titled magazine Two Complete Science-Adventure Books. 

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Blogging The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer, Part Nine – “The Golden Flask”

Blogging The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer, Part Nine – “The Golden Flask”

NOTE: The following article was first published on June 15, 2010. Thank you to John O’Neill for reprinting these early articles so they are archived at Black Gate which has been my home for nearly 6 years and 270 articles now. Thank you to Deuce Richardson without whom I never would have found my way. Minor editorial changes have been made in some cases to the original text.

golden flaskRomer_-_Mystery“The Golden Flask” was the eighth installment of Sax Rohmer’s serial, Fu-Manchu. First published in The Story-Teller in May 1913, it later comprised Chapters 21-23 of the novel, The Mystery of Dr. Fu-Manchu (initially re-titled The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu for North American publication). Rohmer added brief linking material to the start of this episode for its book publication in an effort to tie the story closer together with its immediate predecessor. “The Golden Flask” is unique in not being centered upon Dr. Petrie’s infatuation with Karamaneh, but rather upon our heroes’ obsession with bringing Dr. Fu-Manchu to justice.

The story harks back to “The Zayat Kiss” in being set in motion with Nayland Smith and Dr. Petrie correctly identifying Henry Stradwick, Lord Southery as the next target of assassination, but being too late to prevent his death. Lord Southery’s physician, Sir Frank Narcombe believes the peer to have expired from heart failure. Oddly, Smith states that neither he nor Petrie represents the official police. A reason for this blatant deception is never given and must be concluded as an error on Rohmer’s part. Reference is made to both Smith and Petrie possessing a supernatural ability to detect Fu-Manchu’s presence at the scene of Lord Southery’s death despite the absence of any clues pointing to foul play. When Petrie describes Smith as looking like “a man consumed by a burning fever,” the reader is completely willing to suspend disbelief and go along with Rohmer’s frenzied paranoia. It is the same mania that captivated Petrie (and, by extension, the reader) at the start of “The Zayat Kiss.”

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Blogging Marvel’s Master of Kung Fu, Part One

Blogging Marvel’s Master of Kung Fu, Part One

MOKF15Special Mavel Edition is a little remembered comics reprint title of the early 1970s. Its fifteenth and penultimate issue dated December 1973 featured the debut of a new series, Master of Kung Fu. Marvel’s timing was perfect as Bruce Lee was now a major star at the U.S. box office and David Carradine’s Kung Fu series was a critical and ratings success on the small screen.

Marvel had optioned the rights to Sax Rohmer’s Fu Manchu characters several years before when Pyramid paperback reprints of the 13 Rohmer novels were selling strong thanks to the popularity of the Christopher Lee film series. Marvel already had their own Fu Manchu clones in the form of the Yellow Claw and the Mandarin, but Master of Kung Fu gave them the opportunity to build a contemporary martial arts title out of a sequel to Rohmer’s highly influential thriller series.

Conceived by Steve Englehart and Jim Starlin, the decision to incorporate Sax Rohmer’s characters was at the insistence of Marvel editor Roy Thomas. Englehart enlisted the aid of Robert E. Briney, publisher and editor of The Rohmer Review fanzine to ensure the continuity was consistent with Rohmer’s long-running literary series.

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The Further Adventures of Cija the Goddess: Jane Gaskell’s Atlan Saga, Part II

The Further Adventures of Cija the Goddess: Jane Gaskell’s Atlan Saga, Part II

Orbit Futura Cover
Orbit Futura Cover
Pocket Books Cover (Boris Vallejo)
Pocket Books Cover (Boris Vallejo)

A Tale of Two Books

Back in December I wrote about Jane Gaskell’s classic 1960’s fantasy novel The Serpent. We pick up the story with a book that’s been published here and there as the second in the series, The Dragon.

Calling this Book Two is a bit of a misnomer, as certain publishers have included this slim volume as part of The Serpent. For our purposes (and because the Orbit Futura series I have at hand separated them into two distinct volumes), I am referring to it as a separate book. My copy weighs in at 206 pages of small print, continuing the exploits of our reluctant heroine, the young goddess Cija.

The two-book split is preferable in at least one sense, in that it acts as a visual divide that emphasizes events in the tale.

You see, our heroine is growing up. From her secluded upbringing we saw her blunder from point to point in The Serpent. She was naïve and had a skewed sense of the real world, having had only books — chiefly romances and sagas — to help her form opinions in her youth. One got the distinct impression that life happened to Cija.

That kind of inherent fatalism starts to change in The Dragon.

Of course, there’s another advantage to having two editions – awesome cover art. I would love to know who painted the covers of the Orbit Futura series, but the artist isn’t credited. One needs a magnifying glass to appreciate it fully, but the cover of The Dragon is not only captivating, in my humble opinion, but also shows that the artist has done his homework, as it depicts events within the book almost as accurately as the author’s fine prose.

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Lyonesse: Suldrun’s Garden by Jack Vance

Lyonesse: Suldrun’s Garden by Jack Vance

oie_6184539ElxhnW3oLines from the song “Comedy Tonight” from A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum sprung to mind numerous times this past week while I was reading Jack Vance’s Lyonesse: Suldrun’s Garden (1983). While definitely not a comedy, it is by turns familiar and peculiar, convulsive and repulsive, as well as dramatic and frenetic. And sometimes, very funny. It is also one of the most inventive, strange, and bewitching books I have had the joy to read.

His first collection, the fantasy classic The Dying Earth (which you can read about in John O’Neill’s post here), helped make Vance’s early reputation as a writer of lapidarian prose, cynical wit, and above all as an inventor of incredibly original cultures, worlds, and characters. For the next three decades of his career he seemed to eschew straight fantasy, and most of his published work was science-fiction and mysteries. In 1983, though, he released a lengthy work of fantasy, Lyonesse: Suldrun’s Garden (L:SG). It rapidly shifts from studies of realpolitik, to fey whimsy, to dark violence that might make George R.R. Martin blush, yet it’s never jarring but completely complementary and intoxicating.

Over the following six years he added two sequels, The Green Pearl (1985), and Madouc (1989). With the latter, Vance beat out Gene Wolfe, Tim Powers, and Jonathan Carroll, among others, to win the 1990 World Fantasy Best Novel Award.

In European legend, both the lands of Lyonesse and Hy Brasil, as well as the city of Ys, sank beneath the sea. In Vance’s novel they are found among the “Elder Isles, now sunk beneath the Atlantic, [which] in olden times were located across the Cantabrian Gulf (now the Bay of Biscay) from Old Gaul.”

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Self-published Book Review: The Chained Adept by Karen Myers

Self-published Book Review: The Chained Adept by Karen Myers

If you have a book you’d like me to review, please see this post for instructions to submit. I’ve received very few submissions recently, and I’d like to get more.

The Chained Adept - Full Front Cover - 550x850This month, we look at The Chained Adept by Karen Myers.

Penrys has worked at the Collegium—a college of wizards—for the past three years, but she’s not from there. No one knows where she’s from. She has enough magical knowledge and power to frighten the wizards of the Collegium, but she has no memories prior to being found lying naked in the snow and no clues as to her origins aside from the chain she wears around her neck and her furred ears, neither of which anyone has seen before. The Collegium gave her the title of adept and access to their library, but her research taught her less about herself than about the use and creation of magical devices. When one of those devices flings her halfway around the world, she only discovers more questions.

Penrys finds herself in an army camp under magical attack. After helping to defeat the attack, she is put under the watchful care of the wizard Zandaril, who is from the nomadic horse-herders of Zannib. His nation is renowned for its mind-wizards, but even he is in awe of what Penrys can do with her mind-magic. It goes far beyond telepathy to learning skills and language from those nearby and detecting people and even animals at incredible distances. It’s more than enough to make the Kigali army suspicious. The Kigali have no wizards, which explains why they turned to the allied nation of Zannib for magical assistance for their expeditionary force. They’re investigating rumors of an invasion in the Neshilik region.

Penrys soon makes herself useful, uncovering a plot to sabotage the camp, and thereby earns enough trust to be sent on a scouting mission with Zandaril to find out what they can about the Rasesni invaders’ wizards. They soon discover that the Rasesni are not so much invading as fleeing, and that what they’re fleeing has much to do with Penrys’s forgotten past.

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A Downed Pilot, a Mad Duke, and a Riddle in the Grove of Monsters: A Green and Ancient Light by Frederic S. Durbin

A Downed Pilot, a Mad Duke, and a Riddle in the Grove of Monsters: A Green and Ancient Light by Frederic S. Durbin

A Green and Ancient Light Frederic S. Durbin-small

To my left, dwarf iris. To my right, lilacs. All around me, sunlight. Because truly, the only appropriate location to write a review of Frederic S. Durbin’s latest novel, A Green and Ancient Light, is in a garden with a blue sky above and a wisteria-tinged wind teasing by.

OK, OK. A sacred wood would also be suitable… but they are harder to find in Iowa. What’s not hard to find in Iowa? Cornfields. Which is where I procured my copy of A Green and Ancient Light, after it was shot there by a trebuchet. The book smelled of clouds after I ripped the package open. If you doubt me, I have a notice typed by Durbin himself on a 1935 L.C. Smith 8 to prove it.

Do I squeal now or later? How about always. I LOVE THIS BOOK. It left me breathless. I didn’t want to move after I finished it. Moving meant breaking a beautiful moment. Moving meant stepping out of the sublime. Moving meant letting go of a village that I wanted to live in. A Green and Ancient Light is SO GOOD.

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