Goblinoid Games Purchases Rights to Starships and Spacemen

In 1978 Fantasy Games Unlimited released Starships and Spacemen one of the first Science Fiction roleplaying games to hit the market -- the first three were Ken St. Andre's Starfaring (1976), Metamorphosis Alpha (1976) and Space Patrol (1977) which eventually became a licensed Star Trek game.

These early science fiction games varied in quality and theme. The science fiction of Ken St. Andre's Starfaring is reminiscent of the John Carpenter film Dark Star and had rules that focused on playing the ship as a whole rather than on individual members of a crew seeking adventure as a team. The game had a humorous bent and like much humor of the 1970s might offend some readers due to the sexual nature of some of the jokes/illustrations. Space Patrol's system was inspired by Star Trek (though it did have rules for playing Laumer-esque Bolo tanks as well), so much so that Heritage Models was able to use the same system in their licensed Star Trek game. Heritage's Space Patrol based Star Trek was one of the earliest licensed role playing game properties.

Like Space Patrol, Fantasy Games Unlimited's Starships and Spacemen was inspired by the Star Trek television series. Fantasy Games Unlimited also produced a board game in the Starships and Spacemen universe entitled Star Explorer which expanded on the themes set forth in the Starships and Spacemen game.

This week Goblinoid Games announced that they had acquired the rights to publish an edition of Starships and Spacemen and they have made the original rules available in pdf format. In the long run, they plan to adapt the system to be compatible with their Mutant Future and Labyrinth Lord d20 Open Game License/Old Game Renaissance systems. This should be a fairly easy process. Like many early role playing games, Starships and Spacemen shares some mechanical qualities with the Dungeons & Dragons role playing game. For example, six of an S&S character's 8 primary attributes are determined by rolling three six-sided dice -- just as in D&D. S&S differs from D&D in its use of attributes in that it distinguishes between inborn attributes which remain the same for that character throughout play and acquired attributes which can improve over time. The game also contains "Branches" and "Subclasses" similar to the class system used in D&D. The acquired attributes mentioned earlier, expand the basic class/level system and incorporates an early skill/point system into the mix.

Sadly for Starships and Spacemen, and a number of other promising SF role playing games, Game Design Workshop had released the first Traveller rulebooks in 1977. The Traveller rules were more closely related to SF literature, having a heavy Foundatiom influence, and this combined with an ambitious support schedule led to Traveller dominating the SF rpg market for years to come. Fantasy Games Unlimited eventually dropped support for S&S and moved on to their Space Opera project which had a broader scope with regard to the kinds of SF it emulated -- everything from hard SF to Pulp.

It's nice to see games like Starships and Spacemen return from the dead due to the long tail effect and the low cost of distribution through the internet. I look forward to seeing what Goblinoid Games have to offer in the coming months. In the meantime, I will have to dig up my S&S rulebook from storage and write a review soon.

An RPG Ahead of Its Time -- Flash Gordon & the Warriors of Mongo

In the nascent days of role playing game yore -- 1977 to be exact -- Fantasy Games Unlimited published one of the first Science Fiction role playing games to hit the market with Flash Gordon & the Warriors of Mongo. The first two science fiction role playing games were TSR's Metamorphosis Alpha (1976) and Ken St. Andre's Starfaring (1976). Flash Gordon was one of a couple of games Fantasy Games Unlimited published that was co-written by Lin Carter -- yes that Lin Carter, the one who is responsible for most of Appendix N being in print -- with another being Royal Armies of the Hyborean Age.

Where Royal Armies was a set of miniature warfare rules set in the Hyborian Age, the Flash Gordon role playing game was an attempt to create an entirely self contained role playing game complete with campaign setting and campaign in one 48 page volume. That's quite a thing to attempt and I have been surprised at how well Flash Gordon accomplishes its goal -- especially given the low esteem in which the RPG.net review holds the game.

The book has its flaws, but it also has its brilliance. The flaws lie within the underlying rules for the conflict resolution system. The brilliance lies within the freeform campaign implementation system, a system remarkably similar to the Plot Point and Encounter Generation system mastered by Pinnacle Entertainment Group in their Savage Worlds series of games. More on this later. It's time to look at Flash Gordon & the Warriors of Mongo.

System Mechanics

In a brief note at the beginning of the book Lin Carter sets out his chief objective in the drafting of Flash Gordon. "My own personal debt to Alex Raymond, and my enduring fondness and admiration for Flash Gordon made this set of rules a labor of love. I was dead set against Scott's [Scott Bizar] first idea of doing a book of wargame rules and held out for adventure-scenarios, instead."

Carter wanted a game that was able to capture the excitement of the old Flash Gordon serial through the use of a collection of adventure-scenarios bound by a single rules set. Rules that were intended to "provide a simple and schematic system for recreating the adventures of Flash Gordon on the planet Mongo." With regard to their goals, Carter and Bizar both succeeded extremely well and failed monumentally.

The system is simple...and confusing...at the same time.

Characters roll three "average" dice for the following four statistics -- Physical Skill & Stamina, Combat Skill, Charisma/Attractiveness, and Scientific Aptitude. It's an interesting grouping of statistics that demonstrated FGU's willingness to look beyond the "obligatory 6" statistics created by TSR. The inclusion of Combat Skill as a rated statistic is in and of itself an interesting choice.

At no point is it explained what an "average" die is. Is an "average" die a typical six-sided die that you can find in almost every board game ever published, or is it one of those obscure and hard to find "averaging" mentioned in the Dungeon Master's Guide? The rules aren't clear regarding this, but the fact that "rolls of over 12 indicate an extremely high ability in the specific category" [emphasis mine] hints that it is the "averaging" die to which they are referring -- later difficulty numbers hint that it might be the regular dice that are used. Not that it matters much, as you will soon see.

After rolling statistics, players choose from one of the following roles -- Warrior, Leader, and the Scientist. This leads one to wonder which group Dale Arden fits, but that is another conversation entirely. The primary effect of choosing a particular roll is to add one point to the statistic most related to the profession.

These attributes are later used to determine success based on a very simple mechanic. Stat + d6 > TN. For example, if the players are in the Domain of the Cliff Dwellers it is possible that they will encounter the deadly Dactyl-Bats.



If the players decide that they want to fight off the Dactyl-Bats the success or failure of the action will "depend upon the military skill of the most skilled member of your group. Roll one die and add the result to your military skill. A final total of fourteen or greater is needed to drive off the Dactyl-Bats." Failure indicates the character is wounded and that the party must rest. It's a simple resolution, but one that lacks any significant cinematic quality. It feels awkward, and other mechanical resolutions in the game are similarly weak. Typical punishment for failure on an action is a loss of a certain number of turns. These turns are valuable as players need to recruit enough allies to defeat Ming before he has time to become powerful enough to squash any rebellion. While the statistics of the game are firmly rooted in roleplaying concepts, the resolution and consequence system still echoes board game resolutions. This is a weakness in this game, as is the inconsistency of resolution techniques. Fighting a Snow Dragon is resolved in a different manner than the encounter just discussed.

I imagine one could build a good game conflict resolution system built around the statistics highlighted in Flash Gordon, but this book lacks that system. I think it might be interesting to try to use a modified version of the Dragon Age pen and paper rpg system as a substitute for the mechanics in the Flash Gordon rpg. They are simple enough that it wouldn't require a lot of work. One could also use the OctaNe system if one wants to stick to the "narrative" feel that Bizar and Carter seem to have been attempting here. OctaNe succeeds where this game fails mechanically -- and OctaNe's system is ridiculously easy to learn and use.

Game Campaign System

This is where Flash Gordon really shines. The game's basic structure is that of a "recruitment" campaign where the players must journey from land to land -- based on how they are connected on an abstract schematic and not based on actual geography though the schematic takes those into account -- where they encounter various challenges and face various foes. For example, let's say our stalwart heroes find themselves in the Fiery Desert of Mongo. If they are mounted on Gryphs he journey will be easier than if they are not. It is possible, though not guaranteed, that the players will encounter Gundar's Gandits who will attempt to capture the players and sell them into slavery. The players may also encounter a Tropican Desert Patrol made up of troops loyal to Ming. The end goal of the area is for the group to recruit Gundar and his men, but that requires role playing and/or defeating the Tropican Desert Patrol. The description of the Desert and the possible encounters are abstract enough that they could easily inspire several sessions of roleplaying -- with a robust system like Savage Worlds -- all it lacks is a nice random encounter generator like the one found in The Day After Ragnarok to fill in the holes.

In essence, the Flash Gordon role playing game includes one or more major encounters for each geographical region of Mongo. As they players wander from place to place, they can/will face these challenges. What is inspired, and ahead of its time, about this structure is that the encounters are "story plot points" that must be achieved but can be achieved in the order of the player's choosing. There is room for exploration of the world at the same time that the players are succeeding at mandatory plot points. It is a narrative campaign without the railroading. Pinnacle Entertainment Group uses a similar structure in their Rippers, Slipstream, and Necessary Evil campaigns. It is a system that allows for narratively meaningful and fun play without the need for extraordinary planning on the part of the Game Master. All it lacks is a method, like the random encounter generator I mentioned above that is used by most plot point campaign systems, to fill in the scenes between the set pieces. Though it should be noted that there is sufficient information within the Flash Gordon rpg to easily construct a set of encounter generators with very little work.

Conclusion

Criticisms regarding the underlying conflict mechanical system, or lack thereof, are spot on when it comes to Flash Gordon. Character generation and conflict resolution lack any feeling of consequence or depth. BUT...If you want a campaign road map to use with another game system, preferably a fast-furious-and-fun one or a "narrativist" one, then this product is a deep resource. It will save you from having to read pages and pages of the old Alex Raymond strip in order to get an understanding of all of the minor details necessary for the creation of a campaign. You should certainly read the Alex Raymond strips, they are wonderful, but reading them should never be made to feel anything remotely like work. Bizar and Carter have done the work in presenting the campaign setting, all you have to do is adapt it to your favorite quick and dirty rpg mechanical set.

Underappreciated SF/Fantasy Authors

Yesterday's post regarding Clark Ashton Smith, and his relative obscurity in the minds of the "average" citizen, got my subconscious mind percolating thinking about other authors that I enjoy. These are the kinds of authors for whom I have a deep affection, but that others give me blank stares when I mention their names. I would have left such musings to the backburner of my mind, except for the fact that Jo Walton decided to write a post on that very subject today at the Tor website in a post entitled "Neglected Books and Authors."

Quite a few of Jo's choices would make my list of authors underappreciated by the mainstream SF/Fantasy crowd that attends an event like the San Diego Comic Con. One might argue that same "mainstream" audience's lack of awareness about some of these authors is the real reason that some of the more "arty" SF fans regard the San Diego Comic Con fans with so much venom and disdain. Instead of trying to introduce the Buffy (and Joss Whedon) fan to the works of Barbara Hambly -- particularly Those Who Hunt the Night -- the "arty" SF fan seems content to grumble and moan. I have been a big fan of Hambly's Sun Wolf and Starhawk series that begins with The Ladies of Mandrigyn since I first saw the ominous "shadow hand" book cover of The Dark Hand of Magic. The cover compelled me to buy the book, only to swiftly find out that it was "Book 3" in a series -- so I quickly purchased the other two.

Hambly makes Jo Walton's list, as does John M. Ford who fans of Steve Jackson Games should know as one of the authors of GURPS: Infinte Worlds (along with Kenneth Hite) -- but too few probably made the connection between John M. Ford the gamer and John M. Ford the author of The Dragon Waiting : A Masque of History (Fantasy Masterworks). Heck, the Tor website still describes him as follows, "He lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where he is currently at work on a novel, "Aspects," a fantasy with steam engines." Ford passed away in 2006.

Those are two on Walton's list who would also make mine. There is one more that we share, Susan Palwick. Before I begin to praise Susan for her writing, which I genuinely adore, I have to point out that she was one of my mentoring professors as an undergraduate at the University of Nevada. She was a wonderful writing teacher and advocate of SF/Fantasy, and is a remarkable writer in the field. I would likely have not read her first novel Flying in Place so early had I not taken a class with her, but I would have certainly read The Necessary Beggar and Shelter close to their release dates even not knowing her. The Necessary Beggar is a wonderful example of what Fantasy can be, a story where the fantastic is introduced into the mundane world and where the consequences of that interaction are explored. It is an excellent novel that grapples with modern politics, without being "on the nose," and timeless philosophic issues. It also has wonderfully engaging prose. It's the kind of book that makes you pause and wonder why more Fantasy doesn't break from the familiar paths. Shelter is similarly engaging in its SF exploration of identity and what constitutes "humanity." In a future where there are artificial intelligences and "digitized individuals," where does society draw the line as to what constitutes a "person." When the book came out, Susan was kind enough to do a lengthy interview with me on my podcast.

There are a few authors that I would add to Walton's list of "neglected" SF/Fantasy authors. Emma Bull, whose Territory is one of my favorite Fantasy novels, is someone who deserves to be far more widely read. She is an author who has two works, including Territory, that should be of particular appeal to fans of the Savage Worlds roleplaying game. Territory could be used as a wonderful campaign map for a Deadlands: Reloaded game, as it perfectly balances magic and the Old West in a powerful tale. If you want your Deadlands games to be more than zombie hunts and "Tremors: The Cowboy Edition," this book is vital. Freedom and Necessity, co-written with Steven Brust, is also excellent and would be useful to any Rippers game master or player. It's depiction of British culture is invaluable to anyone wanting to know how to run "Status" in a Rippers campaign without it seeming capricious. Beyond their use as research materials for role playing games, these two books are extremely well written with engaging narratives.

Given how many people asked me, "Brandon Who?" I think that I should point out that Brandon Sanderson is an imaginative and exciting Fantasy author who is taking Epic Fantasy in new directions. I am almost saddened that he was chosen to finish the Robert Jordan series. It means that it will be a while before I can read more of Brandon's original fiction. His Mistborn trilogy and Elantris are properly lauded by many Fantasy fans, but we need to get them into the hands of the casual fan.

Brent Weeks' Night Angel Trilogy is an entertaining romp and a natural scion of the Sword and Sorcery genre. If you are a fan of the pulp action of Robert E. Howard, then you should be reading this series. The books could probably use a stricter editor for some of the stylistic issues, but the books are entertaining swashbuckling adventures of a kind often looked down upon. If Weeks keeps improving, he will prove to be a worthy successor to David Gemmell -- and that is high praise indeed.

Oh, and if you aren't reading C.L. Moore, Leigh Brackett, or Manly Wade Wellman then you and I need to have a little talk.

[Blogging Northwest Smith] "The Cold Gray God"

Catherine Lucille Moore's seventh Northwest Smith tale, "The Cold Gray God," takes place in a city named Righa -- "pole city of Mars." One imagines that the location of Righa isn't too distant from the polar mountains where Smith and his trusty companion Yarol explored an ancient temple to a forgotten deity in "Dust of the Gods."

The "Dust" and "Cold" stories share many qualities, both take place in polar environments -- highlighting Moore's frequently used theme equating cold with evil. Both of the stories deal with forgotten Martian gods -- one can imagine the possibility that the forgotten Martian god is the same entity in both versions. The primary motivation for Northwest Smith to become involved in the narrative is the same in these stories...his overwhelming sense of curiosity. To be fair, most of the Smith adventures are triggered, in one way or another, by his curiosity.

"Dust" began with Smith and Yarol drinking segir whiskey and commiserating about their lack of finances. "The Cold Gray God" begins with an enigmatic female strolling down the streets of Righa, a city filled with the desperate and sinister, completely indifferent to any danger that might lurk around the next corner. The woman notices Smith, approaches him, and lays her hand upon his arm. Her touch gives Smith, "a queer little start, involuntar[y], like a shiver quickly suppressed." We know from earlier descriptions that the woman is beautiful, so the fact that her slightest touch causes shiver-like starts in a character as jaded as Smith gives us our first hint that something is deeply amiss with the woman.

Smith accompanies the woman back to her home, a traditional Martian home. For the first time in the Northwest Smith stories Moore gives us a glimpse into the Martian architecture in a way that sets it apart from the architecture of the American West. Moore takes a wonderful leap into making the Mars of the Smith tales truly alien, or at least fantastic.

The room they entered was immemorially ancient, changelessly Martian. Upon the dark stone floor, polished by the feet of countless generations, lay the furs of saltland beasts and the thick-pelted animals of the pole. The stone walls were incised with those inevitable, mysterious symbols which have become nothing more than queer designs now, though a million years ago they bore deep significance. No Martian house, old or new, lacks them, and no living Martian knows their meaning.

These three sentences can be unpacked to create encyclopedias of information about Mars and its history. The way that they trigger the imagination is a wonder. Read them, let the significance of what they mean sink in, and imagine the potential consequences. Moore's Mars is a world that has architecturally stagnated. It's buildings tell stories of forgotten empires; stories that are no longer understood. What are those mysterious symbols? What do they mean? What do they say about ancient Martian society? The lack of immediate answers to these questions hints that the story will portray the folly of forgetting the past, a hint transferred to full foreshadowing with the next paragraph.

Remotely they must be bound up with the queer, cold darkness of that strange religion which once ruled Mars and which dwells still in the heart of every true Martian, though its shines are secret now and its priests discredited. Perhaps if one could read those symbols they would tell the name of the cold god whom Mars worships still, in its heart of hearts, yet whose name is never spoken.

These words are ominous enough, but having read "Dust of the Gods" these words were more frightful than they would otherwise be. For in "Dust," Smith had encountered what may be the very remnants of this forgotten, discredited, yet still worshiped entity. The cosmic horror of a people who have "rejected" and forgotten a deity, yet still worship the deity in their heart of hearts, is wonderfully chilling. It's a sentiment that even Lovecraft never touched upon. Imagine a society that has left behind and rejected horrible evil, even forgotten it, but still echoes that evil by the very fact of that society's existence. Evil, even abandoned and forgotten evil, lingers forever on Mars.

Having informed us of the lingering evil that threatens Mars, Moore returns us to the "simple" story she began -- a tale of someone hiring a rogue to do some less than legal activity. Throughout the hiring/negotiation scene Moore re-emphasizes the discomfort that Smith feels in the presence of the woman, who we now know is named Judai. Under normal circumstances Smith shouldn't feel disdain for her. "He wondered briefly why he disliked even to look at her, for she seemed lovelier each time his gaze rested upon that exquisitely tinted face." Judai had once been a famous singer whose beauty and songs had captured the hearts of the solar system. Smith should feel elated that he has rediscovered this lost celebrity, yet his intuition makes him feel uncomfortable in her presence.

The mission Judai wants to hire Smith for is a simple one. A man has a box that Judai values and Smith is to acquire the box. For his efforts, Smith will be rewarded richly. Given that Smith's intuition is virtually screaming at him to leave the presence of this woman, and that Smith soon receives formal warning from someone he trusts that Judai isn't to be trusted, he should decline the job. As usual though, Smith's sense of adventure overcomes his intuition and good sense and he agrees to take up the job and acquire the box.

What follows is immensely entertaining, and not worth spoiling. Throughout the tale, the connections between this story and "Dust" continually echoed in the back of my mind. So did Moore's pattern of equating sexual attraction -- pure sexual attraction and not a higher "marriage of true minds" attraction -- with danger and death. Judai is a beautiful Venusian woman, as so many of the women who have put Smith in danger seem to be, but she exudes evil and danger from her very pores.

This story also highlights another of Moore's narrative devices, that of the importance of friends in surviving danger. Smith rarely saves his own hide in his adventures. Were it not for his trusty companion Yarol, Smith would not have survived his encounter with "Shambleau." Yarol is absent in this tale, otherwise one would guess that Smith would not have stepped as far into danger as he eventually does in this story. Yarol had accompanied Smith on his journey into the hidden arctic temple of a forgotten Martian god after all, and may have been sensitive to what was about to occur in this story.

Like many of the Smith tales, this one demonstrates how mundane actions can have monumental consequences. One can only imagine the damage that would have been wrought had Smith delivered the "Dust" in "Dust of the Gods." One gets to see what is released when Smith delivers the box in this story.

Cosmic Horrors are not to be trifled with. Thankfully Smith is made of sterner psychic stuff than your typical Lovecraftian protagonist. His psyche's ability to endure the horrific and bizarre is only matched by his curiosity to encounter the unknown.

Previous Blogging Northwest Smith Entries:

6)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Nymph of Darkness"
5)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Julhi"
4)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Dust of the Gods"
3)Blogging Northwest Smith: "Scarlet Dream"
2) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Black Thirst"
1) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Shambleau"

[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Nymph of Darkness"

"Nymph of Darkness" is the first of the Northwest Smith stories to be written in collaboration with another author. C L Moore's collaborator on this piece was none other than an 18 year-old science fiction fan named Forrest Ackerman. Forry, as his friends called him, died on 12/4/2008 at the age of 92. I had hoped to have this entry posted on the anniversary of his death, and to spend some time praising Forry's contributions to Sci-Fi. Not the least of these contributions is the creation of the term "Sci-Fi," a term unabashedly used by those fans who care more about entertainment than present day literary acknowledgement. Make no mistake, I enjoy literary Science Fiction. I just happen to enjoy my Sci-Fi as well, and make no bones about it.

I apologize for the delay, but it comes with a fairly good reason. I had remembered reading a version of "Nymph of Darkness" in Forrest Ackerman's Ackermanthology Millennium Edition compilation. I also remembered that Forry had pointed out that there were two version of the story. A "spicier" version of the story was printed in the April 1935 issue of the fan magazine Fantasy Magazine, while a much "expurgated" version of the story was published in the December 1939 issue of Weird Tales. I needed to hunt down my copy of Ackermanthology! in order to look at some of the notes Forry provided regarding the collaboration. I had also hoped to compare the Weird Tales version to the Fantasy Magazine version, but Paizo has thankfully provided us with the "real thing" and not the "expurgated" story. An examination of the Weird Tales version will have to wait.

"Nymph of Darkness" begins very similarly to "Black Thirst." In both tales, Northwest Smith is wandering the waterfront of the Venusian city of Ednes. The danger of the waterfront is emphasized in both stories, as is the darkness of the Venusian sky -- a fact that is even more important in this story than in "Black Thirst." In "Nymph of Darkness," Smith once again finds himself in the path of a woman who may be in need of his aide, but something is different this time. In the end, a couple of things end up being different, but the initial difference is a difference in Smith himself. In earlier Smith stories, Northwest has almost leapt to the aide of damsels in distress. In this story, he is far more cautious. Given Smith's caution, this is definitely a Smith story that takes place after the events of "Shambleau." Moore describes Smith as follows, "He wanted no sound to indicate his own presence to the terror from which the woman fled. Ten years before he might have dashed out to her -- but ten years along the spaceways teaches a man prudence. Gallantry can be foolhardy sometimes, particularly along the waterfront, where any score of things might be in close pursuit."

Before we continue, I'd like to state that of the Moore stories in the Smith series, this tale starts the most awkwardly. I don't credit this to the collaboration, so much as it seems that the opening paragraphs lack the strong hand of an editor. Where prior Smith tales set the tone effectively without repetitive paragraphs, this tale wanders a little before it gets going. In the first paragraph we are told twice that the Patrol is too afraid of the waterfront to police it effectively, an unnecessary redundancy. The second paragraph of the story begins with this clumsy sentence, "Through the breathless blackness, along a street beneath which the breathing waters whispered, Northwest Smith strolled slowly."

The use of alliteration here might be appreciated, "breathless blackness," "waters whispered," and "strolled slowly" if not for the repetition of the use of "breath." One likes "breathless blackness," but is pulled out of the narrative by "breathing waters" so close after the other construction. I like what Moore is attempting here, but I would have liked another editorial pass through these paragraphs. That said, the rest of the story moves a quite a clip and the awkwardness of the first two paragraphs hints more at Moore's mind groping for some construction that will get the story moving. Eventually she does, and later examples of alliteration pull the reader in effectively.

Ackerman supplied the original outline for the story, and invented the name of the nymph of the tale -- Nyusa. In Ackermanthology!, Forry assures us that Nyusa was the result of experimenting with sounds rather than being made up from the initials of the major metropolis N.Y., U.S.A. One thinks Forry might be protesting too much here and, given Moore's later honesty in her creation of names, one wishes he would admit the play on words if it is really there. Moore admits in the collaborative that Ednes comes from the middle of the word Wednesday.

Despite Smith's caution, he still ends up running into the girl and aiding her against her pursuer. This pursuer is a shambling humanoid creature named Dolf, who pursues Nyusa wielding some sort of greenish light. The purpose of this light is revealed shortly. Smith has run into the nymph, but neither he nor the girl have seen each other. They have been relying on sound and touch due to the deep darkness of the Venusian night. Nyusa eventually guides Smith into a building and she asks him to lift her to turn on a light. When he does, he notices that while he is holding the weight of a woman in his arms -- he cannot see the body. Nyusa is completely invisible, except when certain wavelengths of light interact with her own natural skin color. At these times she becomes a semi-translucent and mist-like figure. Moore's inspiration for the cause of invisibility, as she makes clear in her letters to Forry, is Ambrose Bierce's tale "That Damned Thing." Bierce's tale was the inspiration for a couple of H P Lovecraft stories as well ("The Colour Out of Space" and "Dunwich Horror"). The shambling Dolf's greenish light is constructed to reveal Nyusa's presence.

The source of Nyusa's invisibility is also the source of both sides of the narrative tension in the story. Nyusa is the daughter of some god of Darkness, echoes of "Dunwich Horror" here, and that god's worshipers use Nyusa by having her dance under the eerie green illumination as a part of their prayer rituals -- rituals devoted to her father. She is portrayed as an unwilling participant in the rituals of these creatures, known as the Nov, the reader (and Smith) likely assume that her resistance to participating in the rituals stems from some rejection of Darkness. We are, after all, used to our damsels in distress tales.

But Moore will have none of this. The Nov, who are white amorphous slug like creatures, may have a mystical hold on Nyusa forcing her to perform rituals praising her father, but her desire to leave has nothing to do with revulsion of things man is better for not knowing. No, her desire to be free stems from a desire to fully explore the Darkness within herself. She wants to be free and to have the power of her Darkness grow, not to have it restrained by the ceremonies of the wretched Nov -- who use her, but do not praise her properly.

Smith doesn't know this as he watches the dance ritual. He only sees the revolting visages of the Nov, and hears the approach of Dolf. Smith slays Dolf, and one of the high priests of the Nov. This frees Nyusa from the hold the Nov had upon her and Smith witnesses her partial apotheosis into a being of Darkness. For his "gallantry," Smith is rewarded with a kiss. The kiss is both cold and filled with love, a combination of human warmth and unimaginable Darkness.

Once more, Moore has played with the damsel in distress story and added her typical spin. Nyusa's sensuality is a thing of danger, where non-sexual love would have been something safe. Smith begins the tale wary of attempting to rescue a girl because he is afraid of what her pursuers might be capable of. He finishes the tale wary of that which he has helped to liberate. To be fair, Nyusa would likely have been free soon enough without Smith's aid, but Smith was there to witness her apotheosis and helped to hasten it.

One thinks that maybe Smith should have trusted his cautious instincts a little bit more than he did.

Who knows what long term ramifications this will have upon the fate of the universe?

Previous Blogging Northwest Smith Entries:

6)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Nymph of Darkness"
5)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Julhi"
4)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Dust of the Gods"
3)Blogging Northwest Smith: "Scarlet Dream"
2) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Black Thirst"
1) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Shambleau"

Is Mel Gibson Preventing New "Fahrenheit 451" Film?

In an interview with Tor Books, Ray Bradbury enthusiastically discusses his desire to see Frank Darabont's adaptation of Bradbury's classic Fahrenheit 451 into a feature film completed -- but there seems to be a road block in the way. Mel Gibson owns the rights to make the Fahrenheit 451 film and isn't helping with the raising of funds for the film.



Is Gibson sitting on the film rights until he can have full control of the project? Does anyone know more information?

Sporadic Geek Update 11-17: Jess Hartley, Matt Forbeck, and Assault Girls

Here are a couple of items that caught my eye as I wandered the internet today:

• Jess Hartley has a good "One Geek to Another" column up today discussing "Networking and Cross-Promotion." Her site, and columns, are on my regular must read list. She is an inciteful veteran of the gaming industry who regularly shares tips for the aspiring game designer and reviewer.





• Tulkinghorn over at "The Hungry Ghost" pointed me toward what looks to be a combination of geek awesomeness -- ASSAULT GIRLS. A live action film with Big Guns, Kick Ass Women -- some with angel wings, Giant Sand Worms, all blended together through the Anime Transmogrifier.



• Reactor 88 has released a conceptual trailer for a film based on Matt Forbeck's excellent BRAVE NEW WORLD roleplaying game.



• Thanks to SF Signal, I discovered Manybooks.net who have public domain books which they have kindly translated into a number of formats...including Kindle.

Hulu Recommendation Friday: The Prisoner

Given that this Sunday is the premiere of the new AMC series "The Prisoner," a site as devoted to geek culture as this one is has only one possible recommendation to make -- "The Prisoner" starring Patrick McGoohan. The show is not "officially" on Hulu, but you can find a link on the Hulu site.

The original "The Prisoner" was nominally a follow up to Patrick McGoohan's popular spy themed show "Danger Man," or as I always new it "Secret Agent." One way that "The Prisoner" can be viewed is as the "deprogramming" of McGoohan's character from the earlier series as he retires from the spy world.

There are many other lenses through which the show can be viewed as the show is a great example of what much of the New Wave SF Writers and the earlier Futurian SF writers where doing in written SF. In the fiction of both the New Wave writers and Futurians shifted the focus of sfnal elements away from the mechanically technical and into the political and social. It is true that earlier SF, like that of Wells and Huxley, had been filled with political and social elements as the primary sfnal elements, but the Hard SF movement championed by John W. Campbell had a greater focus on hard science than earlier SF. The Campbellian writers had political subtexts as well, but one can read much of Heinlein, Vogt, and Asimov without engaging with the political/philosophic content. The fiction of the New Wave and Futurians was a little more radical and overt in its use of political and social elements. One cannot read Behold the Man without engaging with the radicalism of the text. It's no accident that "The Prisoner," with its focus on the collective versus the individual, came into existence at the height of the, largely British, SF New Wave.

It is a common practice among fans of "The Prisoner" to have lengthy conversations about the meanings embedded within the series and it is almost impossible to describe the series itself without revealing one something that one might find to be a spoiler. "The Prisoner" is a show to be experienced tabula rasa, then to be experienced again and again in order to engage with the complexities of the narrative.

It appears that the new AMC show is using Alternate Reality Gaming to expand the experience. Make a little visit to the Summakor website to get an idea of what I mean.

Frederik Pohl Blogs About the Origins of Astounding (Now Analog) Magazine

Astounding/Analog magazine is the fountainhead of the Golden Age of science fiction. Many of the great SF stories that later generations read in various novelizations and anthologies first appeared within its pages, and most of those during the period the magazine was edited by John W. Campbell. For all of its importance in the field, I have not read much regarding the formative years of the magazine.

Thankfully, Frederik Pohl's has written a blog entry that is filling this significant gap in my knowledge of SF/F history. The post gives some insight on how the cost of printing covers for a line of pulp books, and the need for one more book title to be printed to prevent wasted revenue, was one of the contributing factors to the creation of the magazine. The story demonstrates how niche markets can receive product when the costs associated with the risk of the venture are less than the costs of the waste produced if no product is made -- and how this venture can eventually lead to a literary explosion.

Given my Oma's refusal to do anything remotely computer related, I find it inspiring that Frederik Pohl (who turns 90 this Thanksgiving) has a well maintained and "must read" blog. Well...must read for any SF fan.

Titan Books to Release The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: War of the Worlds

In 1975, Warner Books released two wonderful, but tragically overlooked, volumes of Sherlock Holmes inspired speculative fiction. The first was Avram Davidson's The Enquiries of Doctor Eszterhazy, a distinctive character of charm and grace who is an original creation for all that Davidson was inspired by Doyle's Consulting Detective.

The second book is a collection of tales by Manly Wade Wellman featuring Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson, and Professor Challenger as they deal with the Martian invasion previously chronicled by H.G. Wells entitled Sherlock Holmes's War of the Worlds.



This "fix up" novel collects six short stories and combines them into a novel length adventure. The first of the stories, "The Adventure of the Martian Client" was originally published in the December 1969 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. The other stories in the volume either appeared in later issues or were written specifically for the Warner volume.



"The Adventure of the Martian Client" begins brilliantly with Watson informing us of how tragic it is that society has chosen to follow H.G. Wells' account of the Martian invasion while totally neglecting the contributions of Sherlock Holmes and Professor Challenger. As Watson puts it, "H.G. Wells's The War of the Worlds is a frequently inaccurate chronicle by a known radical and athiest, a companion of Frank Harris, George Bernard Shaw, and worse. He exaggerates needlessly and pretends to expert scientific knowledge which he does not possess. Yet scientists and laymen applaud him, while scorning the brilliant deductions of Sherlock Holmes and Professor George Edward Challenger."

I initially found Watson's tone to be a little stronger than I am accustomed to reading, but quickly caught on to what Manly Wade Wellman -- and his son Wade Wellman -- were up to with the story. It is really quite brilliant. The Wellman's are using the lens of Holmes pastiche through which they are applying the modern scientific understanding of Mars over the representations of the Martians and their technology in the Wells novel. By doing so, they eventually add a greater possibility to further stories of Man vs. Martian than would have been allowed under the Wells model. The Wellman team do a good job of presenting the strengths of both Holmes and Professor Challenger, and of conveying the tension of the Wells story while still following the Holmes model of "a client arrives."

In the post script to "The Adventure of the Martian Client" published in the December 1969 issue, the younger Wellman sites a viewing of A STUDY IN TERROR as the inspiration for writing a Holmes meets the Martians tale. In A STUDY IN TERROR Holmes applies his detective skills against Jack the Ripper. The younger Wellman also expresses a certain amount of disdain for the 1953 WAR OF THE WORLDS film. His primary complaint was that it was unnecessary to update the classic story to place it in contemporary circumstances and by doing so the movie makers overlooked the point of the story. I disagree that the 1953 film is weak, but agree that "updating" the story changed the underlying philosophical discussion. Wells' underlying message was one of the possibility that mankind might meet a being who thinks of us the same way we think of farm animals. The filmmakers of the 1953 story were grappling with the destructive power of nuclear weapons and had an opportunity to demonstrate their "ineffectiveness." I would argue that the most recent Spielberg version, which also updates the tale, keeps Wells' original philosophic statement, but is a worse translation of the story even so.




The stories in the Wellman Holmes vs. Mars cycle are entertaining and we can be thankful that Titan Books is releasing a new edition of this collection of the stories on the 17th, timed to feed off of the upcoming SHERLOCK HOLMES motion picture starring Robert Downey Jr. Hopefully a large number of people will read this collection of stories and discover the joy that is Manly Wade Wellman. He was one of the great voices in Fantasy fiction, a voice that wandered roads not typically encountered by the modern Fantasy reader.

Time Travel Clichés: Funny or Dull?

Thanks to John DeNardo of the ever informative SF Signal website for pointing us to the latest video by the folks over at Funkanomics.com.

As DeNardo noted in his pithy post title, "Every Time Travel Cliché in 3 Minutes," the "Built a Time Machine to Kill Hitler" video by the aspiring internet comedy crew at Funkanomics is not treading much new ground when it comes to the metaphysics of time travel. To be fair, dissecting the various connotations of time paradoxes in great detail isn't the point of the video. Funkanomics are trying to give us a few laughs and build a comedic reputation online.

Do they succeed?

Is "Built a Time Machine to Kill Hitler" funny?

Watch the video for yourself before you read my thoughts. It won't be the worst 3 minutes you have experienced.

"Built a Time Machine to Kill Hitler" is certainly passable as a 3 minute sketch, and I was impressed with how natural the insertion of additional time travelers looked in the film, but it's stuck on "amusing" and doesn't quite leap into "funny." I think that the greatest flaw of the skit is its lack of depth when it comes to its subject matter. We all get the BACK TO THE FUTURE and TERMINATOR references, but I'd have liked to see some A SOUND OF THUNDER, A GUN FOR DINOSAUR, MIMZY WERE THE BOROGROVES, or TIME COP (with regard to the existence of time police) thrown in for good measure. If you're going to go for the cliché gold, you have to have at least one reference to a dinosaur and one to time police. Otherwise, you're just not doing it right.

The basic comic beats are on cue in the piece, but the writers forgot one key point -- comedy is irony. I would have loved for the last time traveler to walk on the screen to be one who says, "you were right, I didn't set my clock forward for Daylight Savings. I guess it didn't work." Then have that character look down, bewildered, as he has to help his roommate clean up the mess left by the other travelers.

All that aside, I do think the film was entertaining and I will definitely be going back to Funanomics.com.

What are your favorite Time Travel stories and clichés?

[Blogging Hammer's Slammers] -- "Under the Hammer"

I can remember the first time I saw David Drake's name in print, it was in the Tales from the Vulgar Unicorn collection of stories in the Thieves' World shared universe fiction series. I enjoyed his story, Goddess, but didn't read anything else by Drake for quite some time. In fact, it was about a decade later when I read his foreword -- and story -- in Baen's Cormac Mac Art volume in the excellent Robert E. Howard series they put together in the 1990s. It would be a few more years before I started reading Drake's excellent Lord of the Isles series, a rich fantasy series that wanders away from the typical medieval European mythological base and toward Sumerian myths for inspiration.

I have always found Drake's writing engaging, and was pleasantly surprised to find out that he had been friends with two figures who loom large in Fantasy fiction -- Manly Wade Wellman and Karl Edward Wagner. Even though I was a fan of Drake's Fantasy writing, I hadn't read any of his Science Fiction. Most of Drake's SF falls into a sub-genre that I don't often find myself wandering into, namely Military SF. I have no moral objections to Military SF stories. I have read Dorsai, Forever War, Starship Troopers, and Old Man's War, but I haven't wandered far from those literary entries into the genre.

Based on a conversation I had with a friend last week -- a portion of which was dedicated to the aesthetic failings of the covers decorating the majority of Baen's book line -- combined with my recent foray into the Science Fiction of the 1930s and the October Baen release of The Complete Hammer's Slammers vol. 1, I have decided to begin an exploration of Military SF starting with David Drake's classic "Hammer's Slammers" series of stories.

Like Haldeman's Forever War, Drake's "Hammer's Slammers" series of stories are (at least partially) informed by the author's own military experience. Both Haldeman and Drake spent time in Vietnam. The "Slammers" stories share many qualities with the Military SF that has preceding and succeeded them, but they also have some distinct and unique qualities that set them apart.

Case in point, for this post, is "Under the Hammer." This story was the second "Slammers" story that Drake wrote after returning from Vietnam, and it was the second story rejected by Fredrick Pohl for publication. Pohl did not see a need for a third author writing "essentially the same kind of fiction" he was receiving from Pournelle and Haldeman -- a statement that seems bizarre to this particular modern reader. The story was eventually published in the October 1974 issue of Galaxy under the editorship of Jim Baen. According to Drake, Baen didn't really like the story either, but it was better written grammatically than the majority of Galaxy submissions. Pretty humble beginnings for what has become a major entry in a genre sub-category.

"Under the Hammer," gives us a glimpse into new recruit Rob Jenne's first day on the job with the "Hammer's Slammers" mercenary outfit. The story is a stark presentation of on the job training in the middle of a conflict with guerrilla forces on an agricultural planet, a planet so far from civilization that most "modern" means of transportation and communication are completely lacking. It is an environment where the soldiers of "Hammer's Slammers" far outgun the guerrilla's they are fighting, but still find themselves mired in a struggle where victory is less than guaranteed. It's pretty clear that the setting is Vietnam as SF outer rim world, tunnel rats and all.

The story is quite short, but within its pages Drake manages to do a couple of groundbreaking things within the genre. First, he immediately separates himself from Heinlein and Haldeman by not providing a representation of Basic Training. We are reading the story of a recruit showing up "on world" who is on his way to be trained, any training Jenne receives in the story will be provided only as much as it will help him survive the next 20 or so pages. The next difference between Drake's story and others is the almost complete lack of discussion for the "why" of the conflict on the planet. The readers are placed into the circumstances in media res without much context discussing why the "Slammers" have been hired to fight the guerrillas. There is some brief discussion why the "Slammers" might be hired in general, but few specifics about the current engagement. The stress in the story is on the characters and their immediate circumstances, and not on any global (galaxy-wide?) political/ideological struggles. The men presented are real men, who behave realistically, and who aren't doing anything particularly noble or ignoble.

This last point is made particularly poignantly early in the story. One of the first characters Jenne encounters is a priest of The Way who questions Jenne about his enlistment and how the military life may/may not conflict with a peaceful religion. For a story that on the surface lacks any philosophic commentary, the priest's initial comments and his two layered involvement with the "Slammers" made this story stand out. The priest's two layered involvement with the "Slammers" might seem a little heavy handed on the "melodrama tear-jerk inducement index," but it plays a very necessary role for the proper framing of the story.

This is a tightly written story that's only weakness is the thinness of the sfnal veneer. My hope is that as the stories play out, they will be able to keep the strong writing style while adding more SF elements.

[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Julhi"

The March 1935 issue of Weird Tales featured "Julhi," the fifth of Catherine Lucille Moore's Northwest Smith tales. That same issue also featured Robert E. Howard's "Jewels of Gwahlur," a classic Conan tale.

After a year of writing Northwest Smith tales, Moore's "Julhi" manages to integrate what are now the "old stand-by's" of the Smith series with an energy that keeps the repeating narrative devices feeling fresh -- and to be fair, some of what is going on in this tale is quite fresh. Like in the first Northwest Smith tale, Moore gives us a brief introductory paragraph reminiscent of a campfire story. It's a device that Moore had abandoned in the prior three stories, but it helps to set the tone here and notify the audience that we are going to be reading an event that transpired in Smith's past.

The tale of Smith's scars would make a saga. From head to foot his brown and sunburnt hide was scored with the marks of battle...But one or two scars he carried would have baffled the most discerning eye. That curious, convoluted red circlet, for instance, like some bloody rose on the left side of his chest just where the beating of is heart stirred the sun-darkened flesh..."

The "campfire" paragraph provides Moore with a couple of advantages, and one major challenge, as the story unfolds. First and foremost, this preamble let's us know a little bit about the story we are about to read, we will be learning just how Smith acquired that "bloody rose" scar. Fans of Smith will be getting a glimpse into his, as yet, largely unrevealed past. Second, our curiosity as readers is piqued as we wonder just what kind of beast or device would leave such a wound. As mentioned earlier though, these advantages don't come without a price. By revealing to the audience that the story takes place at some point in Smith's past, any fear that Smith will fail to overcome the challenges within the tale can be easily cast aside. We know he survives because we know he bears the scar.

It's harder to create an aura of mystery and weird terror when the audience knows the outcome, but Moore knows what she is doing. She immediately disorients the reader, by inserting them in media res -- along with Smith -- into an unknown environment. As the story begins we find Smith literally in the dark without "the faintest idea of where he was or how he had come there." Adding to his mysterious surroundings, Smith is immediately attacked by some unknown and unseen foe and falls unconscious. The reader may know that Smith will find a way out of the situation, but the reader also feels the urgency of the situation in which Smith has found himself.

As a side note, as in other Moore tales, much could be made in this story about the use of light and dark and how she uses them to create discomfort for the reader. Much of this story takes place in the dark and the majority of the references to light are referring to one character's ability to open a portal between worlds.

When Smith awakens from his unconscious state, he finds once more that he is not alone. Moore's descriptions of movement are identical to the ones she used to describe the unseen assailant, maintaining the uncomfortable anxieties she created earlier as long as possible. This time, Smith takes action and finds -- much to his pleasure -- that this time it is a fellow prisoner and not an unknown horror who has joined him in this mysterious place. Smith's new companion, the fair Apri, knows where Smith is and why he is here and quickly shares what information she has with Smith and the audience.

Here Moore exhibits one of the least appreciated skills in writing. She deftly provides the audience with much needed exposition in the form of natural dialog. When Apri is discussing the "haunters of Vonng," who are the slaves of "Julhi," it is conversational rather than expository, yet it fills in all of the necessary information to inform the audience how dire the circumstances are and how mysterious the place Smith has found himself in is. One of the ways Moore accomplishes this is to have Smith's thoughts interact with Apri's dialog to fill in the blanks.

For example, when Apri mentions that Smith is in Vonng the reader is immediately granted access to Smith's thoughts, rather than having to read Apri explain what and where Vonng is. And it is a place reminiscent of sunken R'lyeh, "The stone had been quarried with unnamable [sic] rites, and the buildings were queerly shaped, for mysterious purposes. Some of its lines ran counter-wise to the understanding even of the men who laid them out, and at intervals in the streets, following patterns certainly not of their own world, medallions had bedn set, for reasons known to none..." Like many of the locations in H.P. Lovecraft's fiction, Vonng is a city that exists at a nexus of worlds, where the geometry of the universes allow one universe to affect others...if they have the proper means of communication. We quickly find out that Apri is a vessel through which Julhi, a horrifying being from another world, can bring people into her own "Vonng" to serve as food.

As I wrote earlier, Moore is using many of the narrative elements from prior Smith stories in this piece. In "Scarlet Dream," Smith found himself transported to another universe. In "Black Thirst," Smith found himself in a vast and unending castle/city whose ruler could manipulate the geography to make it a prison. In all the prior tales, save "Dust of the Gods," the villain was some form of vampiric inspiration for a creature of classical myth. Shambleau was the vampiric origin of the Gorgon, the Alendar was the elemental horror version of Dracula, and the very planet in "Scarlet Dream" was a blood feeding terror. In "Julhi," the eponymous villain seems to be the vampiric inspiration for the Siren or Lorelei.

Like most of Moore's vampires, Julhi feeds on something other than blood -- in this case in addition to blood. The Alendar fed on beauty, Shambleau fed on sexual pleasure and desire, and Julhi feeds on emotion, "but to experience the emotions we crave we must have physical contact, a temporary physical union through the drinking of blood." Julhi is a traditional vampire, in that she drinks blood, but a non-traditional one in that she feeds on the experiences, sensations, and emotions of the victim -- all kinds of emotion, save possibly one.

Of all of Moore's creatures, the Julhi is the most interesting to date and quite unique. I was taken aback by Moore's description of the creature and how she managed to bring horrifying imagery to my mind while describing the creature as one of beauty.

He caught his breath at the sleek and shining loveliness of her, lying on her black couch and facing him with a level, unwinking stare. Then he realized her unhumanity, and a tiny prickling ran down his back -- for she was one of that very ancient race of one-eyed beings about which whispers persist so unescapably in folklore and legend, though history has forgotten them for ages. One-eyed. A clear eye, uncolored, centered in the midst of a fair, broad forehead. Her features arranged in a diamond-shaped pattern instead of humanity's triangle, for the slanting nostrils of her low-bridged nose were set so far apart that they might have been separate features, tilting and exquisitely modeled. Her mouth was perhaps the queerest feature of her strange yet lovely face. It was perfectly heartshaped, in an exaggerated cupid's-bow, but it was not a human mouth. It did not close, ever. It was a beautifully arched orifice, the red lip that rimmed it compellingly crimson, but fixed and moveless in an unhinged jaw. Behind the bowed opening he could see the red, fluted tissue of flesh within.

Sexual imagery aside, this description is highly disconcerting. When added to the slightly serpentine arms, indescribable lower half, and feather crest above the head, we have a truly haunting creature. In fact, the imagery in my mind was a kind of combination of the monster from The Man Trap, a serpent (diamond shaped head and all), a lamprey, and a peacock. Not something I would want to meet while trapped in an alternate dimension. It's also a creature I would love to see illustrated.

Though Julhi cannot speak she can, like the Lorelei, sing, and her song creates a hypnotic state that manipulates the emotions of the listener. Smith is run through the gamut of emotions and the ride only stops on two occasions. Once, it is stopped because Julhi has experienced more powerful experiences than she has ever experienced before. The other time Julhi withdraws, without comment I might add, is when Smith remembers his first (and likely only) true love -- a love that hints at horrible loss in this tale. This love is a place where it seems Julhi will not go, and is evidence of another recurring theme in Moore's tales. She often places love in a favored, though typically tragic, position over sexuality. Sexuality and sexual desires are more base than the love she often presents, as was evidenced in the earlier discussion of beauty in "Black Thirst."

While Julhi herself may be the inspiration for the Siren or Lorelei, she is not representative of her eerily beautiful race. As the story unfolds, we learn that she is an aberration among her people...a corruption if you will. This makes her markedly different from Shambleau and the Alendar who were representative of their respective species. Here Moore might be commenting on humanity itself and how those who live vicariously through others, and to the destruction of those others, are a kind of leech to be shunned by society.

Previous Blogging Northwest Smith Entries:

4)[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Dust of the Gods"
3)Blogging Northwest Smith: "Scarlet Dream"
2) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Black Thirst"
1) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Shambleau"

Hulu Recommendation Friday: V -- The Series

With ABC running a remake of the classic V miniseries, I had no other choice than to have this week's Hulu recommendation be a V related one.

While there has been much talk lately regarding how SF and Fantasy have come to so dominate popular culture and the collective social conscience that we may now be entering into a "post-SF" era, it should be noted that film and television have been saturated with SF and Fantasy narratives since their beginnings. Even prior to the television and films that affected me as a young Gen X viewer, these media had entertained generations with fantastic SF/F. This earlier influence is what made growing up an SF/F fan in Generation X such a joy. There was an amazing abundance of quality sfnal material to watch when I was growing up, and it wouldn't have been there if not for how much earlier entertainment influenced those who created entertainment in the 70s and 80s.

Let's take a quick look at some of the entertainment offerings that Generation X was able to enjoy. On television, we had THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN and the BIONIC WOMAN, SUPERFRIENDS, JOHNNY QUEST, STAR BLAZERS, BUCK ROGERS IN THE 25th CENTURY, BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, SPACE 1999, SALVAGE, and V. In film, we had ALIEN, OUTLAND, STAR WARS, KRULL, THE LAST STARFIGHTER, EXCALIBUR, SUPERMAN, FLASH GORDON, and BLADE RUNNER. The lists above don't even scratch the surface of how much wonderful sfnal material was being produced as Generation X was growing up. Science Fiction and Fantasy films may have bigger budgets today, but they are no more ubiquitous today than they were in the 70s and 80s.

It is often jokingly remarked that the Golden Age of Science Fiction is 13 (or insert some other young age), as that is the time one can best enjoy the fantastic tale merely for the sake of its being fantastic. I'm not one who usually agrees with this statement, as I have yet to be disillusioned about the SF/F I read as a child. Most of what I enjoyed, I still enjoy. Most of what I missed that others tell me I should have read, but may not enjoy as much now that I am "a more mature reader," I have enjoyed. Sometimes, as was the case with the ending of SLAN, I find small quibbles with particular narrative devices or decisions, but for the most part I find that a good story remains a good story.

I remember V being a very good story. It was a wonderful reversal of the alien story told in films like THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL. We had aliens who were visiting our planet claiming to be peaceful, like in DAY. Unlike the humans in DAY, we believed them much to our eventual dismay. That one small difference made V more plausible to me than the high minded and hopeful narratives offered by movies like DAY.

The argument in DAY is, essentially, that if all the scientists can work together (because they understand the futility of war) then Earth can become a wonderful and peaceful place. Of course, if they cannot then the Earth will be destroyed, since apparently the Galactic Community believes in using violence preemptively to stop nuclear capable planets from attacking them. I very much enjoy DAY, but still have trouble with the "we have evolved beyond violence and if you don't..we'll destroy you" narrative. The short story is better with regard to this issue.

The argument in V is "beware of aliens bearing gifts." The aliens come to help us achieve peace and can end all the problems facing human society. One small thing, they really want to turn us into dinner. Given the messages that tyrants have used throughout history to attain power have been ones of "peace," "equality," and "progress." I found the story plausible. (I also found the narrative in ALIEN NATION extremely plausible, and more compelling than V as a "human" story.) The costumes the aliens wore, and the way they manipulated specific humans in order to get their "help," are fairly obvious references to Nazism.

I cannot wait to see what ABC is doing with the new V series on November 3. To get ready, I recommend watching the miniseries link above from google video and watching the spin-off series on Hulu. I've embedded the first episode of the followup series below. It isn't as solid as the miniseries, and I don't know how it will hold up as I'll be finding out over the weekend, but I have fond memories.

[Blogging Northwest Smith] "Dust of the Gods"

"I have graven it within the hills, and my vengeance upon the dust within the rock." -- Edgar Allan Poe, Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym

Catherine Moore's fourth Northwest Smith story is one which continues a noble tradition in Weird Horror fiction, that of the Antarctic/Arctic expedition. This tradition has included some of my favorite horror and sf tales and movies. A list that includes Poe's Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness, John W. Campbell's Who Goes There?, and John Carpenter's The Thing, based on Campbell's tale. These stories combine mankind's natural curiosity, the desire to explore the unknown, with mankind's natural fear of that same unknown. Given the lifeless wastes of the Antarctic/Arctic environment, it is the perfect setting for a scary story.

It is a particularly perfect location for the "post-mythological" horror story, the kind of horror story that leaves superstition and mysticism to the dust bin of history and creates supernatural horror that might exist in a rational and material universe. This is the perfect horror for a scientific age. Kenneth Hite, in his [Tour de Lovecraft] entry for At the Mountains of Madness describes this kind of tale as "remythologization." As he describes it, horror that provides a "plausible entryway for 'adventurous expectancy' not through a world-view that saw everything as magic but through a new world-view, one that saw everything as rational." It is horror for a world where "God is Dead," and where traditional spooks don't provide the chills they once did.

One can also see the line of "remythologized," or "post-mythological," horror represented in film franchises like SAW, HOSTEL, LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT, MANHUNTER, and TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE. Films like these, themselves descendants of Grand Guignol, provide the shocks and chills that thrill the imagination without the need of "mystical" events.

Unlike these human-o-centric tales of mass murder the Antarctic/Arctic expedition tale does include elements of the "supernatural," but it is only "supernatural" in the sense that what is encountered goes beyond what we currently understand about nature. The supernatural element isn't something that violates the laws of nature, rather it is something that man has yet to encounter that evolved according to the laws of nature in a manner different than previously encountered. Poe is the possible exception here -- the one that proves the rule. Like the monster in ALIEN, and the Couerl of A.E. Van Vogt's Voyage of the Space Beagle (which are expedition tales that substitute space for Antarctica), the unstoppable horrors are material and not mystical.

This is a fun genre and it is nice to see Moore dip her toes in with "Dust of the Gods."

"Dust of the Gods" begins, like many Dungeons and Dragons campaigns and too many fantasy stories, at an "inn" where our protagonist and his loyal companion sit in search of something to do. Northwest Smith and his trusty Venusian sidekick Yarol are broke and down to their last drop of whiskey. They are in need of adventure and finances...not necessarily in that order.

While they are commiserating about their lack of liquidity, Yarol notices two men entering the establishment. He describes them as "hunters" to Smith, and hints that they might know where he and Smith can get some work. It doesn't take long for Yarol to notice that there is something different about these two men than Yarol remembers. They are more paranoid than usual. Smith sarcastically proposes that the reason the two men are so skittish is that they may have found what they were looking for and are now haunted by the experience. This is in fact, as it turns out, the case. The two men were hired to go into the arctic regions of Mars to find the "Dust of the Gods" and bring it back, but after finding it have returned to civilization psychologically scarred.

China Miéville argues convincingly in his introduction to Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness that it was a retelling of Poe's Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, and not in any way a sequel. I think he is right, but I think that Moore's "Dust of the Gods" is a sequel to both the Lovecraft and Poe tale. It is also, if Miéville's account of the politics of Lovecraft's tale is correct, a political response to the Lovecraftian version. The two "hunters" are the men who have returned from Lovecraft's Antarctica forever changed by the experience, Lovecraft's Antarctica has merely been moved to Mars so that Northwest Smith and Yarol can follow in the footsteps of those who have been broken, like Lovecraft's Danforth and Poe's Pym, and succeed where the others have failed. Smith seeing once brave men, now jumpy and frightened, has intrigued his own sense of adventure. He wants to know what could shatter the psyche's of once brave men.

Smith doesn't have to wait long, for he is quickly approached by an old man of indeterminable race. His features are described as follows, "under the deep burn of the man's skin might be concealed a fair Venusian pallor or an Earthman bronze, canal-Martian rosiness or even a leathery dryland hide." The old man's race, and the true color of his skin, is obfuscated by time and wear (an important contrast to the clear black/white dichotomy of both the Poe and Lovecraft version).

It turns out that the old man is the person who hired the other hunters and that they indeed found what they were seeking (or at least "where" they were seeking), but that they failed to return with that which the old man seeks. Smith and Yarol listen as the old man gives them his sales pitch. He wishes Smith and Yarol to travel to the arctic in search of the remains of the god Black Pharol, of whom all that remain are a pile of dust. Pharol was one of the three original gods, on whom all others are based, and the only one to leave behind any physical essence. As the old man describes them:

There were gods who were old when Mars was a green planet, and a verdant moon circled an Earth blue with steaming seas, and Venus, molten-hot, swun round a younger sun. Another world circled in space then, between Mars and Jupiter where its fragments, the planetoids, now are. You will have heard rumors of it -- they persist in the legends of every planet. It was a mighty world, rich and beautiful, peopled by the ancestors of mankind. And on that world dwelt a mighty Three in a temple of crystal, served by strange slaves and worshiped by a world. They were not wholly abstract, as most modern gods have become. Some say they were from beyond, and real, in their way, as flesh and blood.

In one paragraph, Moore has transformed a theological construct into an alien and material one -- following very much in the footsteps of Lovecraft by making her "gods" ancient trans-dimensional aliens. The first two alien gods, Saig and Lsa, disappeared so long ago that not even legends of them exist, but Pharol -- "a mighty Third set above these two and ruling the Lost Planet" -- continued to exist after the other two had faded away. Eventually Pharol too passed from this dimension leaving behind a pile of dust that still contains some of his essence, and which the old man seeks so that he can reach Pharol and control him. The old man knows tht for "the man who could lay hands on that dust, knowing the requisite rites and formulae, all knowledge, all power would lie open like a book. To enslave a god!"

For some reason, that old man's maniacal declaration doesn't dissuade Smith and Yarol from taking the job -- apparently they are desperately in need of money and the whiskey it can buy. Besides, if you're drunk enough are you really going to notice the primordial extra-dimensional god destroying the universe as you know it? Smith and Yarol accept the man's offer and travel off to the arctic to find the dust remains of an ancient god.

They eventually arrive at a range of mountains in Mars polar region and follow the directions the old man gave them, where they discover a passage leading under the surface of the planet and -- if the old man is right -- into the heart of the crystal temple that once was home to the Three gods.

As they pass through the tunnels, they encounter two phenomena that are references back to the earlier Poe and Lovecraft tales. First, they encounter a darkness that is impenetrable. Their space age flashlights cannot penetrate the darkness and it is an almost palpable thing. In a way, Moore's inclusion of a physically palpable darkness is reminiscent of Poe's inclusion of dark people in the Antarctic regions, only here Moore refrains from the racist undertones of Poe and Lovecraft by having the darkness itself alive and no more terrifying than the next "thing" to appear. That thing is a white apparition reminiscent of the figure at the end of Poe's Pym. Smith and Yarol are able to determine that this white figure is what the two original hunters fled from and it is this that they fear is chasing them.

It should be noted that while Poe's Narrative ends abruptly with the appearance of a white apparition, it is the narrator's recalling of this apparition that likely causes his untimely death and thus inability to finish the tale. Poe's readers never find out what happened next because the narrator dies, likely from fear, during the retelling. One might say that Smith, after he encounters and passes Moore's white apparition, is continuing where Pym left off. He is certainly continuing beyond where the hunters explored. The appearance of the white apparition pulls on Smith's psyche, but he manages to retain his connection to reality and leap past the apparition and "fall" deeper into the planet. Smith eventually speculates that the apparition may only be able to exist in the palpable darkness.

When Smith and Yarol do find the crystal temple and open its doors, they have yet more one wonder revealed to them. The crystal temple is illuminated by light that behaves like a liquid and their entry has provided a whole by which the light can drain from the room like a crack in an aquarium. This light is the true counterpart to the darkness described earlier and the description of it draining from the room is one of the most interesting descriptions I have read in fiction for sometime. I might venture to say that the concept of "liquid light" is one of the more original ideas I've read.

As the light drains from the room, Yarol walks up to the triple throne and finds the dust of Pharol and is about to pack it up for delivery when he picks up on Smith's thoughts that it may not be the best idea to give a madman this kind of power. They had initially written the "power" of the dust off as superstition, but their journey has made them think better of it. Smith and Yarol finally make their first "moral" decision to date in the NW stories, they decide to destroy the dust if they can. During their attempt, Smith's psyche is overwhelmed as he sees images of the world as it was when it was ruled by Pharol and the others of the Three. He even sees the death of the Lost Planet and realizes that this temple crashed into Mars eons ago where it became a temple for ancient Martians before their civilization decayed and the gods were forgotten. Smith and Yarol leave to return to their lives having encountered darkness, but still whole for the experience.

It is in this ending where Moore breaks most strongly from Poe and Lovecraft. In their tales, the protagonists are broken by an experience beyond their control. In Moore's tale, Smith and Yarol leave having decided to save a world -- possibly a universe -- from horror. China Miéville argues that the Shoggoths of Lovecraft's tale represent the "masses" and their decaying effect on civilization. Lovecraft's protagonist has a mental breakdown while in a subway station, reminded by the sounds of the masses around him of the amoeboid horrors in Antarctica. The masses are the horror in Lovecraft, in Moore it is the dictator who is the horror. All Smith and Yarol need do is to stop one man to save mankind, mankind isn't the villain of the tale. "Dust of the Gods" was written in 1934 and the "Enabling Act" that gave Hitler dictatorial control of Germany had been passed on March 23, 1933. One wonders if the rise of the dictator in general, and Hitler in particular, were on Moore's mind as she wrote this tale. Whatever the case it is certain that by focusing on the evil one man is capable of doing, rather than the terror of the mob, Moore was not merely writing a sequel to Lovecraft. She was also writing a political response to him.

It should also be noted that Moore's use of the dust of Pharol seems to be a reference to the final sentence of Poe's Narrative, which is the quote at the top of the piece, and demonstrates how centrally important story titles can be to the literary conversation that authors participate in with each other as history unfolds.

Previous Blogging Northwest Smith Entries:

3)Blogging Northwest Smith: "Scarlet Dream"
2) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Black Thirst"
1) Blogging Northwest Smith: "Shambleau"