The cat, whose name is Saremes, tells Kull where he left a left (in his scabbard) and that a courtier is coming to tell Kull that a surplus has been found in the royal treasury. Tu insists that this is trickery. Kull is a little more gullible, and in the end Saremes accompanies Kull back to his palace. Attending Saremes at all times is the slave Kuthulos, who wears a veil covering his face and neck at all times. Saremes and Kull often sit up all night talking philosophy, but Saremes refuses to tell Kull much about the future. Personally I found her reasoning a little thin and had trouble believing someone like Kull could have been taken in by them. Howard even says that Kull has his doubts, yet he goes along with everything the cat says. Except the continued proddings of Saremes to try to convince Kull to let Delcardes’ marry a foreigner.
Then one day, Saremes tells Kull that his Pictish friend Brule has been captured by a monster while swimming in the Forbidden Lake. Kull immediately takes off to rescue Brule. After battling several monsters, in what are better than average action scenes, Kull is captured by a giant snake and taken deep under the lake into a cave in which the surviving members of the lake men are living. They don’t exactly buy Kull’s explanation for why he’s there. The situation is about to degenerate into a bloodbath when Kull learns that Brule was never in the lake at all. After pledging to leave the lake men in peace, Kull returns to the surface.
When he gets back to the palace, he finds the place in an uproar. Seems the king has wandered off somewhere without telling anyone where he was going. In the ensuing chaos, Kull hears a beating sound and discovers that Kuthulos has been tied up in a secret passage. The man masquerading as Kuthulos is none other than the evil sorcerer Thulsa Doom who swears to destroy Kull before he escapes. It seems Thulsa Doom is a servant of the serpent people. Yeah, those serpent people. Anyway, it turns out that Saremes can’t speak at all, but Kuthulos can literally throw his voice. He was the one telling Kull to allow Delcardes to marry her foreign lover and all the signs given in the opening scene were tricks. Only after Thulsa Doom took Kuthulos’ place was Kull told to go to the Forbidden Lake. Kull graciously pardons Delcardes for her scheming and allows her to marry whomever she wishes.
When published in the Lancer edition, this story was entitled “Delcardes’ Cat”, which is the name of the draft. There aren’t many differences between the draft and the finished story. The chancellor Tu is called Ku for the first page or so in the draft, then his name changes. The only other significant change is the late addition of Thulsa Doom. Howard added him as an afterthought in the first draft.
Several things struck me about this story. First, that the physical description of Thulsa Doom was a whole lot like that given for Skull-Face in the story of the same name. In fact even the name of the slave is similar. Skull-Face was called Kathulos. Patrice Louinet reports in “Atlatnean Genesis” (Kull, Del Rey, p. 298, 2006) that this was the original name in the first draft and was later modified for the final story. It is useful to keep in mind that this story was written at about the same time that Howard was working on “Skull-Face”.
Another thing that struck me was that this is the second story in which a woman has deceived Kull and he’s blown it off and pardoned her. The first was “The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune.” That’s not something Conan would have stood for. Not even once. While he might not have killed the girl, you can be sure Conan wouldn’t have been so forgiving.
In spite of its flaws, this story definitely shows Howard at his most poetic. Consider the following quotes (page nubmers are from the Del Rey edition):
“Twilight was stealing down from the mountains of Zalgara when Kull halted his horse on the shores of the lake that lay amid a great lonely forest. There was nothing forbidding in its appearance, for its waters spread blue and placid from beach to wide white beach and the tiny islands rising above its bosom seemed like gems of emerald and jade. A faint shimmering mist rose from it, enhancing the air of lazy unreality which lay about the regions of the lake.” p. 97
“At first the king thought it to be a huge octopus for the body was that of an octopus, with long waving tentacles, but as it charged upon him he saw it had legs like a man and a hideous semi-human face leered at him from among the writhing snaky arms of the monster.” p. 98
“” ‘You come like the herald of all your race,’ said this lake-man suddenly, ‘bloody and bearing a red sword.’ ” p. 104
While not a major work, and certainly not the best plotting Howard ever did, this one is still worth reading, if only for the passages like those quoted above. “The Cat and the Skull” shows Howard beginning to master his form and hints at greater writing to come.
Here’s what I want to take issue with. Foz Meadows, a writer with whom I’m not familiar, wrote a lengthy and eloquent post on her blog in which she discusses some potential reasons why women are more willing to read fantasy written from the “male gaze”, as she and others call it, while male readers as a whole seem less willing to read fantasy written from the “female gaze.” No hard data was offered to support this idea, but I’m willing to accept it both for the sake of discussion and because I think she’s probably right. Now I’m not quite certain what this “gaze” is that some bloggers are referring to, unless it’s simply a more trendy or politically correct term for viewpoint. If it is, I don’t see the reason for new terminology, and if it isn’t just another word for viewpoint, I wish someone would please define it and explain how it differs from viewpoint.
But I digress. The statement I take issue with is this: “…the struggle, not just for female equality in traditional male fields, but for male equality in traditional female fields.” That in and of itself I can ignore. But…someone on Kate Elliott’s blog (quite a ways down the comments) said, “One of the things that took a long time to sink in with me is the realization that while all the various woman’s lib movements over the past century and more have allowed women to attempt traditionally men’s roles without lesser and lesser danger of shame as the years go by…men do NOT have the same freedom to adopt female roles.” The tone of the comments that followed seemed to suggest that men should try to assume female roles. It was evident from several discussions that these opinions are shared by more than just these two women.
I respect the right the authors of these posts have to their opinions, as well as the right to post those opinions. That doesn’t mean I agree with said opinions. No disrespect or personal attack intended, ladies, but what the hell makes you think we would want to assume female roles?
I posit that not only have men had the freedom to adopt female roles and characteristics if they so wished (and some have) for a long time, probably at least as long as women have had the freedom to adopt male roles, but that in the last few decades men have often had female traits thrust on them whether they’ve wanted them or not. In the interest of being more sensitive and less aggressive of course. And the traditional male role model, both in fantasy and in the broader culture, has come under fire. It may be that some men don’t want to read fantasy written from a female perspective because they want traditional male values affirmed, and they are not finding them affirmed in the broader culture.
Now I realize not all male role models in fantasy are positive, and I’m not saying they all are. I also realize not all women want to read fiction written from that perspective. I’m not saying they have to, or even that they should. I’m simply saying don’t condemn the men who do choose to read that perspective and not a more feminine one.
Should men be sensitive to others, whether the others be men or women? Of course. But the conditions under which a man will show compassion or sensitivity, and the manner in which he shows it, will often be different from the conditions under which, and the ways by which, a woman will show compassion. A good writer, one without a political or philosophical axe to grind, knows this. And can show it in fiction.
Am I saying female characters should be maidens in distress, waiting for a hero to rescue them? No. Those types of women are boring. I like strong, multifaceted female characters in my fiction, but not all of them should be able to swing a sword anymore than all of them should be able to sew. Do I want to read about male characters who are all muscle bound fighters, without emotions, who use women as sex objects? No, they’re pretty boring, too, as far as fictional characters go. And they’re certainly not the type of men I want to hang out with. I blogged about Bernard Cornwell’s The Last Kingdom a couple of months ago. Read that book to see men who aren’t afraid to fight, yet are still family men who exhibit compassion, although not in the manner of 21st century family men. I want to see a variety of both men and women, strong and weak, good and bad, competent and idiots, shallow and honorable. Just like in real life.
And that means I want to see characters that assume traditional gender roles, because most of the people I know, and I know a wide variety, do for the most part fall into the traditional roles to a greater or lesser degree. Yes, there’s variation in the roles they assume, and no, not everyone fills these roles the same way. That’s fine. Just as some characters don’t fit the traditional pattern at all, like Joan of Arc to name one historical figure, I don’t want all the characters in the fiction I read to be completely traditional either. I want to see variety, both within traditional roles and outside them.
The male perspective is valid, just as the female perspective is. And they are equally valid. I’m not saying the male perspective is more valid than the female perspective. There are enough writers working in the field of fantasy today that everyone should be able to find something they like written from a perspective they like. I’m a male who likes strong, heroic male characters in stories that tend to deal with what are considered to be “male” themes. I don’t want the heroes to be perfect, but I don’t want the majority of them to be morally ambiguous or antiheroes, either. I don’t want to read entirely from the male or female point of view, nor do I want to read only male (or female) writers. I want to read both. And I do. It’s the differences that make things interesting. While I want variety, I also tend to prefer certain types of stories and characters over other types. Just like you do.
What I don’t want is people trying to tell me what I should and shouldn’t have in my fiction (or life), regardless of whether or not I agree with their philosophy or share their biases. Many of the comments on feminization and related issues dealt with how male readers reacted to how male characters were seen by female characters, often in sexual terms or situations. I personally have no interest in reading that viewpoint (or gaze if you prefer).
Does that mean I have a gender bias? Probably. I have no problem admitting that I have biases that influence my preference for certain writers. Neither, to her credit, did Foz Meadows. She very openly and frankly discussed her own biases. For that I commend, respect, and applaud her.
There’s no reason I should be expected to read works written from viewpoints I’m not comfortable with or don’t like, or simply have no interest in for that matter. Whether or not I expand my mind by reading beyond my comfort zone is my choice and mine alone. The feminist movement was about giving everyone choices. That should include the choice to stay with any traditional male/white/heterosexual/capitalist/libertarian/whig/antidisestablishmentarian/spartan/persian/neanderthal/whatever viewpoint I like in fiction, and to do so without people who have an apparent agenda getting their shorts in a knot if I don’t and reacting as if my preference is some horrible thing because it isn’t their preference. Or to put it another way, if I, as a male, choose not to assume traditional female roles or choose to read from the female gaze only about certain aspects of life and not others, that is my business and none of yours. Don’t tell me what I have to do or what I should do. Or to be more diplomatic about it, I’ll respect your freedoms and tastes if you’ll respect mine; I won’t try to change you, if you won’t try to change me.
The Alchemist
Paolo Bacigalupi
Subterranean Press
Trade $20; Limited – sold out
96 pages
The Executioness
Tobias S. Buckell
Subterranean Press
Trade $20, Limited $45
104 pages
Here’s a pair of novellas that will definitely be worth your while. The backstory behind them is that Tobias Buckell had an idea for a fantasy world and invited his friend Paolo Bacigalupi to join him in it. Together they developed the settings, history, and characters. What resulted from this collaboration was the pair of books you see above. Hopefully, this is the first of many because they’ve created a fascinating world with an interesting magic system.
In this world, magic, as the publisher’s promotional copy says, has a price. If magic is used, bramble grows. Bramble is like kudzu, only with thorns. It takes over everything. Little magic, big magic, it doesn’t matter. If you use magic, bramble will grow somewhere nearby. It’s caused the downfall of an entire empire in the recent past and is well on its way to taking over the entire world. (I told you it was like kudzu.) To bet stuck by bramble is to risk falling into a deep sleep, one from which you won’t likely wake up. It’s never stated when bramble first started, but The Alchemist implies that it wasn’t always around. It can be burned out, but there are enough people who use magic (in small amounts, of course, not enough to really hurt anything you understand) that this is a losing battle.
I’ll start with The Alchemist only on the basis of the alphabet. Paolo Bacigalupi is one of the hottest new writers working today, and after reading this book, it’s easy to see why. Of course, if you’ve read any of his short stories or his novel The Windup Girl, you already know this about him. The Aclchemist concerns, well, an alchemist. One who has spent a literal fortune trying to find a way to successfully battle bramble. He’s not doing this purely from altruistic reasons but because his daughter has a wasting lung disease. The only cure for it is through magic. He is able to keep the disease at bay, but to do more will cost him is life. The Mayor of the city of Khaim has declared that practicing magic is a death penalty offense. The alshemist succeeds in his quest. And that proves to be his undoing…
The ink on the book was barely dry when Bacigalupi picked up a Nebula Award nomination for it. (Congratulations, Paolo, and good luck!) It’s understandable when you read it. The prose is moving and at times poetic. While I found some of the villainy a little over the top, the story’s ending wasn’t as dark or nibilistic as I was expecting from the set up. I definitely want to see more of this character.
The Executioness is the story of a middle aged woman, the mother of two boys, who takes up the axe in order to keep her family from starving when her father, an executioner himself, dies. This is not your typical fantasy heroine. That’s a good thing. Buckell does a fine job of developing her character, and anyone, male or female, who’s ever had children will relate to her motivation. After her alcoholic husband is killed and her sons stolen by raiders, she takes off in pursuit of her boys. The raiders are practicing what they call Culling, reducing the magic using population by kidnapping children and taking them away across the sea to be indoctrinated in the raiders’ religion. She quickly catches up with them, only to be defeated and tossed in bramble. Somehow she awakens, her wounds healed (this is never explained, something I hope is addressed in a later book), in a caravan, where she becomes one of the guards. The caravan is heading to the city where her sons have been taken, so she has no problem riding along and earning her keep with her axe. In the course of the story, she becomes something of a legend, as the number of raiders she fought grows with each retelling as well as the outcome of the fight changing. In the end, she leads an army of some of the fiercest fighters you never want to tangle with: an army of mothers who have had their children kidnapped. Whether they’re successful, well, that would be telling…
Buckell is the author of several well received novels and one short story collection, which can be ordered here. I picked up a signed copy of Crystal Rain when it was up for a Nebula a few years ago and the awards ceremony was held in Austin. I confess I haven’t read it simply because it is signed, and those books aren’t the ones I take with me to read when I travel and so tend to sit on the shelf longer than unsigned books. It’s in the TBR stack, and after reading The Executioness, it will be moving up closer to the top. Much closer.
These books might seem a bit pricey to some of you, especially in the current economy. But if you can afford them, you should check them out. The illustrations by J. K. Drummond are great. I’m hoping these two glimpses into this shared world will be the first of many.
http://cheezburger.com/View/4513216000
If you’re a fan of Twilight, you probably won’t like it.
Kull: Exile of Atlantis
Robert E. Howard
Del Rey, $15.95
After completing “The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune”, Howard’s next attempt at a Kull tale was an abortive effort simply called “Untitled Draft” in the Del Rey edition. A good title would have been something along the lines of “Who Rides into the Sunrise” since that phrase is repeated in several forms at one part of the story and would have been a central theme if Howard had chosen to finish it.
The story opens with one of the Valusian nobles telling Kull about a scandal in which the Countess of Fanara, Lala-ah (surely one of the silliest names in all of Howard’s canon and certainly more fitting for a tavern girl than a countess) has jilted her fiance at the altar to elope with Felgar, an adventurer from the neighboring kingdom of Farsunia. There’s definitely some alliteration here. Normally, so many proper names so closely associated would be off-putting and confusing to the reader. A more experienced author would probably not have made this mistake. Howard was still learning his craft, although by this time he was becoming quite an accomplished wordsmith. Howard perhaps was aware on some level of the potential for confusion, because this is the only time all three names (Fanara, Felgar, and Farsunia) are used in close succession.
Kull is bored by the whole thing, and comments that in Atlantis, the “women mate with whom they will and whom they choose.” Having grown up in small Texas towns, I think I can safely say that this idea was ahead of its time in 1920s Cross Plains. It’s only when a messenger informs Kull that Felgar has said: “Tell the barbarian swine who defiles an ancient throne that I name him scoundrel. Tell him that some day I shall return and clothe his cowardly carcase {sic}in the clothing of women, to attend my chariot horses.” Why Felgar would do this is never explained.
Strong words from a man who is also a foreigner, although from one of the civilized kingdoms. This, of course, sends Kull into a rage. He summons Brule and the royal cavalry, the Red Slayers. They take off in pursuit of Lala-ah and Felgar, crossing the border of the neighboring kingdom of Zarfhaana.
Howard seemed to be setting up some conflict besides that between Kull and Felgar. There are two other men in the party besides Kull and Brule who are named. Ka-yana, who led the original pursuit and is overtaken by Kull and the Red Slayers, is the first. There is definite dislilke between him and Brule.
The second man is named Kelkor. He is second in command of the Red Slayer. Instead of being Valusian, he’s Lemurian. He worked his way up through the ranks, attaining the highest rank he could as a foreigner. This prevents him from becoming the lord commander of the entire army. Kull silently laments this fact. The passage (p. 71) implies, to me at least, that this will become a plot point later. Kelkor is a warrior’s warrior. In fact Kull has something of a man-crush on Kelkor. I don’t recall any other passage in Howard’s writings in which the central hero wonders if he can ever have the self control and martial prowess another man has. There may be such a passage, but if there is, I’m not aware of it.
This is the least brooding of the Kull stories Howard had written up until this time. The emphasis here is more on pursuit. The party, all 300 strong, track the lovers to a city on the eastern border of Zarfhaana, but the pair manage to elude Kull, although just barely. It’s while Kull and Brule are secretly searching for them in the city that the comments of riding into the sunrise begin.
The pursuit continues, across the border into Grondar, a kingdom of fierce horsemen who often raid Zarfhaana and other kingdoms along their border. Kull has enough men that the Grondarians don’t molest them but do follow along behind them, watching. Felgar and Lala-ah manage to stay about a day’s ride ahead. I don’t know much about horses, but I found it a little hard to swallow that the horses Kull’s party as well as the lovers are riding don’t start dropping dead from the relentless pursuit. I realize that Howard says Felgar and Lala-ah have spare horses, but still, give me a break.
Eventually, they come to a river, the Stagus. On the western side is grassland; on the eastern, desert. At the river they meet a man, Karon the Ferryman, as he calls himself. It’s been established that many of the names Howard was using in his fiction during this period were taken from Bullfinch. Here’s a perfect example of his doing so, and I think it’s brilliant. Howard makes Karon seem a natural fit to the story, not forced. Howard even states that Karon will eventually be known as boatman to Hades. While the land on the eastern side of the Stagus isn’t called Hades, it is called World’s End and is a hot and hellish place inhabited by monsters. No one who has crossed the Stagus has ever returned.
Karon informs the group that he is a member of the Elder Race. He also knows Kull’s name, even though Kull does not give it. I’m not sure if this was an oversight on Howard’s part or not. I suspect not. It certainly works to make Karon more mysterious and a little threatening even though nothing he does or says is overtly hostile.
Felgar and Lala-ah took the ferry across the Stagus at dawn the previous day. Kull says he intends to follow to avenge the insult Felgar has given him but that the men are free to return without it being held against them. They all follow Kull. So impressed by this is Kull that he gives them the highest compliment he can: “Ye are men.” Karon ferries them across, and the party prepares to continue it’s pursuit.
And that’s where the story ends. Just as it was starting to get interesting.
It’s unfortunate that Howard chose not to finish this tale. It was probably shaping up to be the lengthiest Kull story Howard had written up to this time. Yes, the impetus to get Kull to take to the road is weak. Pursuing lovers that he would ordinarily sympathize with in order to avenge an insult is a bit thin for motivation to leave the kingdom in the hands of the nobles, who we know from “The Shadow Kingdom” are not to be trusted. Especially if you take most of your personal guard with you. It’s easier for me to see Conan in his pre-Aquilonia days doing something like this than it is for me to see Kull acting this way. But once Kull and his men are on the road, who cares why he left. This installment shows us some of the geography of Kull’s world, something we don’t get to see much of in the other stories. Once Kull and Brule are in the city looking for their quarry, Howard drops hints that they’re heading into trouble. This is confirmed when Karon tells Kull no one who has crossed the Stagus has ever returned.
Personally, I can’t wait to see what’s on the other side of that river. I want to know what monsters are lurking there. More critters from Bullfinch? It would be fascinating to see what Howard does with them. Maybe no one has ever returned because a gorgon is hiding over there. It would certainly fit with the Greek mythology motif Howard establishes with Karon. And what about the animosity between Brule and Ka-yana? Where was Howard going to take that? Yes, I know it would almost certainly have ended in Ka-yana’s blood being spilled, but half the fun is getting to that point. Let’s not forget Kelkor. Will Kull eventually go against custom and promote Kelkor to command of all the army and not just the Red Slayers?
Sadly, unless the highly unlikely happens and the rest of the story turns up somewhere, the world will never know. Even with it’s flaws and unfinished state, this draft showcases Howard’s growth and improvement as a writer. He has more characters than in any of the previous Kull tales, and their motivations appear to be more complex than any to this point. Their interactions certainly are. This could have been a major novella, especially if Howard had tweaked the story a bit to make the motivation for pursuit a little more believable. It’s our loss that he didn’t.
The story concerns a young girl named Dorota in the village of Szukowo. The village is plagued by ghosts of soldiers. If you have the misfortune to be caught outside after dark during the winter, you can be shot or bayonetted. Some years ago, Dorota’s father stole a fire-flower from a witch, and since then the villagers have been able to defend themselves. Unfortunately, as the story opens, Dorota’s father has died in a drowning accident, the details of which we’re not given. What matters is now the village has no defense against the ghosts. Mocked by her grandmother for not being as brave as her father, Dorota decides to find the witch and try to bargain for another flower. Of course, it’s not going to be that easy.
Daly does an excellent job of gradually revealing to the reader that things are quite what they seem. Did I say “quite what they seem”? Things aren’t at all what they seem. The inside of the witch’s house is bigger than the outside and truly creepy. There’s been a pattern in recent years to make witches good and beautiful. I view this trend in much the same way I view the current fad of vampires being sensitive, attractive, and glittery in sunlight. In other words, a bunch of bunk, a heap of horse puckey, and a cartload of crap. (I toned that last sentence down in the interest of being sensitive to those of differing taste.) I’m pleased to say that Daly has made her witch truly vile and despicable. The woman is evil, but not without understandable motives. This is a tough thing to pull off, especially in a short story, and most especially when the witch is only onstage for a what would be a few pages in a print venue. Oh, and I thought the antlers were a nice touch, Eljay.
I don’t normally care for stories involving witches, partly for the reason listed above, but I enjoyed this one. Eljay Daly is a new writer, and if this story is typical of her work, she’s going to be one to watch. While this wasn’t heroic fantasy in the strictest sense, Dorota definitely shows courage and heroism and isn’t afraid to fight with whatever at hand can be used as a weapon.
As I’ve said before, I’m not very familiar with BCS, but based on what I’ve read so far, that is going to change. If you’ve not checked out Beneath Ceaseless Skies, do. The stories are high quality and well written. The magazine advertises itself as a literary fantasy magazine. Usually when something promotes itself as literary, I tend to treat it with a bit of skepticism since much of what’s called literary sacrifices story for style. That’s not the case with BCS. They’ve combined the best of story and substance. I hope they’re around for a long time.
A new issue of Beneath Ceaseless Skies was posted today. You should check it out. I’ve been aware of BCS for a while but only recently began reading it. I do enough reading on a computer screen as part of my dayjobbery that I haven’t kept up with the online publications like I should. That’s in the process of changing.
Anyway, BCS posts new issues every two weeks, usually with two stories. The current issue leads off with “The Ghost of Shinoda Forest”, by Richard Parks, a tale of honor and loss in feudal Japan. This story showcases Parks’ ability to develop mood and character in a short space, and is one of the better stories I’ve read in a while. It also is the latest in a series, but functions perfectly well as a stand-alone.
I met Parks when he was a regular attendee at the early Conestogas, the SFF convention in Tulsa. This would have been in the late 90’s and early 00’s. He quit coming after a few years. I remember him as a soft spoken man, but one who was easy to talk to. I’ve long thought him to be one of the more underrated writers working at short fiction lengths in fantasy for the last decade. It would be nice to see him get more recognition. He has several collections out, and has a web page, which unfortunately doesn’t seem to have been updated in a while. There is a bibliography there, if you’re interested in reading more of his work. Of course if you’re one of those people who like things current, check his livejournal page. It was updated yesterday.
The second story, “Dirt Witch” by Eljay Daly, I haven’t read it yet. Since I’m not feeling at the top of my game, I probably won’t read it tonight. I’m going to turn in early. When my energy levels are back up, I’ll post a short review. Until then, I’m starting to fade and need to call it a night.