Vathek
William Beckford
Cover art by Ray Cruz
All of the stories within are connected by one theme--each character that tells a tale here is doomed to life in hell, but just before entering the final, everlasting phase they have some time to spend together and tell one another how they ruined their lives. And what lives! The blurb by Lovecraft on the back cover says it all perfectly! One of the great achievements of this particular edition is the inclusion of material missing from every other published version up to this point (1971). It was a lot of missing material, too, well over half of the volume.
Along with #17, "The Shaving of Shagput," readers of the Ballantine series have been given the keys to a strange, exotic world, like nothing encountered in western fantasy. It is a world I love and cherish. Vathek is easily worth a reread. It is layered and complex in its story line, yet always gets neatly tied up and explained. Beckford had great influence over many of the greatest fantasy authors, including Clark Ashton Smith. This novel is well worth seeking out. It will be of no interest to children.
**** stars.
With a very complimentary blurb on the back cover by H.P. Lovecraft, and high praise inside by Lin Carter, I had high hopes that this would be a most enjoyable novel. And it was! I am a huge fan of Sir Richard Burton's translation of "1001 Nights," a work with which every fantasy reader should be acquainted. This volume easily matches or outdoes the original stories, and I found myself transported to some of the most magical places I have ever visited. Beckford himself is a completely fascinating character (as is Burton), and Carter devotes much of his essay to the author himself. To name just one extraordinary thing, Wolfgang Mozart gave him music lessons!
All of the stories within are connected by one theme--each character that tells a tale here is doomed to life in hell, but just before entering the final, everlasting phase they have some time to spend together and tell one another how they ruined their lives. And what lives! The blurb by Lovecraft on the back cover says it all perfectly! One of the great achievements of this particular edition is the inclusion of material missing from every other published version up to this point (1971). It was a lot of missing material, too, well over half of the volume.
Along with #17, "The Shaving of Shagput," readers of the Ballantine series have been given the keys to a strange, exotic world, like nothing encountered in western fantasy. It is a world I love and cherish. Vathek is easily worth a reread. It is layered and complex in its story line, yet always gets neatly tied up and explained. Beckford had great influence over many of the greatest fantasy authors, including Clark Ashton Smith. This novel is well worth seeking out. It will be of no interest to children.
**** stars.
#32--Published July 1971
The Man Who Was Thursday
G.K. Chesterton
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
Although the Adult Fantasy series is dotted with some very quirky titles, this is certainly one of the quirkiest. Although the hero of the title is called Thursday, a better name for the novel might have been "The Man Who Was Sunday", though perhaps that would have given away some of the mystery. I will say very little about the story itself, except in an oblique way. The novel is very much a mystery, one that might have baffled Holmes himself. There is also a very silly chase that would do the Keystone Cops proud. The politics, which lie at the heart of the novel, are very thin, so do not be put off by the first chapter discussion. The Anarchists face off against the status quo, and once Chesterton establishes this, the novel truly begins.
While the book is humorous and mostly non-violent, it is not a book that stands up well to time. The setting is London, a first-world city that has since seen more than its share of bombings and other terrorist dramas. Reading the book from the safety of Canada would be very different from someone reading it from London, after the "Irish Problems" and the more recent deadly tube and bus bombings carried out by fanatics of Al Kaeda. Despite being unable to fully grasp the seriousness of dealing with terrorists, the novel does have several valid points to make. Chief among these is that we really do not know everything about others, usually because we pay them no attention. In the book the anarchists disguise themselves as anarchists, assuming that no one will pay them mind if they stop having secret meetings underground and instead just meet and discuss things at a cafe. While that tactic would not work so well today, it is amazing how many actual recent bombers lived totally normal lives right up to their crime. One was a teacher, another a doctor!
Because things are not made totally clear until the final chapters, and because the novel is intriguing, this would be a hard book to not finish. It is quite short, at just barely over 200 pages, and I wish it had gone a bit longer. There is a BBC Radio drama of the novel, though I have not heard it yet. I will seek it out, though, with the help of a London friend. Parts of the novel remind me of the old, indispensable TV series called "The Prisoner." The same type of disorientation is experienced, especially when Chesterton makes us believe that the people of an entire French town are anarchists. Down is up and up is down. It is sometimes refreshing to be reminded of this from time to time. The novel is of no interest to children.
*** stars.
*** stars.
33--Published August 1971
The Children Of Llyr
Evangeline Walton
Cover art by David Johnston
Lin Carter warns readers in the introduction to this novel that the story is very, very bleak, violent and without any hope of a happy ending. I will repeat his warning: this book is not for the squeamish, or for anyone who thinks that heroic fantasy is a happy-go-lucky affair with winners and losers. The second branch of the Mabinogian, which tale is aptly told here, has no winners. It contains a character with such an evil mind that some people may not get past the horrific scene that first introduces us to his evil. It will be permanently etched on your mind. Of course, he follows it up with a few other infamous deeds as well.
Lin Carter warns readers in the introduction to this novel that the story is very, very bleak, violent and without any hope of a happy ending. I will repeat his warning: this book is not for the squeamish, or for anyone who thinks that heroic fantasy is a happy-go-lucky affair with winners and losers. The second branch of the Mabinogian, which tale is aptly told here, has no winners. It contains a character with such an evil mind that some people may not get past the horrific scene that first introduces us to his evil. It will be permanently etched on your mind. Of course, he follows it up with a few other infamous deeds as well.
But Ms. Walton tells a fascinating, spell-binding tale. I would characterize this novel more on the horror side of fantasy, though it is filled with heroic deeds, not the least of which is the main hero walking to Ireland from England. Yes, I said walking. However, it is the horror that will stay with you long afterwards. This might very well be the earliest literature with a major zombie apocalypse, not to mention severed heads that talk. All in all, this is pretty cool stuff! Despite some of the weirdest goings-on I have ever read, the book flows smoothly and is not difficult to read (for an adult). Overall, I am reminded of some of the tales of woe contained within the Silmarilion, many with unhappy endings but still some of the best storytelling ever encountered. The Mabinogian is a difficult legend to come to terms with. It precedes Arthurian legend and can seem almost biblical sometimes, though perhaps a bit as if Mervyn Peake had written the Bible.
In conclusion, there are huge rewards for someone reading this novel, not the least of which will be a good think about good and evil, and what part each has to play in our history and our future. The lessons learned go way beyond what is actually found within the pages. If you still believe, after reading this novel, that war is a good way to settle problems, I would hope you would start to think again. And if you think there is such a thing as a fairy tale wedding and a "lived happily ever after," well, then perhaps you should not read this book at all. Not suitable for young children.
**** stars.
#34--Published September 1971
The Cream of the Jest
James Branch Cabell
Cover art by Brian Froud
I have yet to read a less than stellar novel by Cabell, though when I tried to get into them when I was much younger I had no luck. So take heart if you find his prose difficult at first. Come back to it from time to time, until you are ready. While all of the books have been curious and well off the beaten path, "Cream of the Jest" might be the one that is furthest from the rest of the fantasy pack. It seems to be a mix of Alice in Wonderland, Dr. Who, and a very engaging pop philosophy theory. I loved every page! If you enjoy dreams and time travel, this might be for you. If you enjoy reading about why religion always leads to a dead end, then this becomes required reading. Cabell's ideas are so modern and so apt that they caught me a bit off-guard. While the book was published by Ballantine in the 1970's, it was written in 1917. Most of the book won't sound like it!
Cabell is searching deep for answers, and scooping up some highly worthwhile ones. He leaves some questions unanswered, but very few. Of the eighteen-plus books in his series about Dom Manuel and his descendants, "Cream" is second to last, meaning that we are dealing with one of the final books, chronologically. It serves as a fine summary to those others, and the author takes time to talk about the chronology in a second part of the book, called "The Lineage of Lichfield." Think of it as a poor man's appendix, similar to Tolkien's one at the end of Lord of the Rings, though not as extensive.
While the books may be read in any order, I would at least read "Figures of Earth" before this one. In his introductory essay, Lin Carter claims "Cream" as his favourite Cabell book. I think it might be mine, too. There is nothing of interest for children, and indeed it is a mature read.
**** stars Reviewed Dec. 7th/2012
#35--Published September 1971
New Worlds For Old
Ed. by Lin Carter
Cover art by David Johnston
Lin Carter presents his fourth volume of short stories by various authors. The back cover lists all authors represented, though a few are here minimally at best. Carter manages to get himself in there not once, but twice. In addition to a preliminary essay by Carter, he also introduces each story, including his own two. Though the front cover claims there are "Fourteen Steps to the World of Wonder," there are actually fifteen! Did Carter throw a second story of his in at the last minute? Anyone reading the list of authors on the back cover who is not keenly interested in reading the volume shouldn't even be at this website.
Zulkais and Kalilah, by William Beckford. Three months earlier, Ballantine had published the author's "Vathek." Included in that volume were three shorter tales that went with the longer tale, but had never been published altogether. The three shorter stories dealt with how three different parties had come to be in hell, awaiting their eternal doom. As they waited, they told one another their reason for being there. Having read "Vathek" not that long ago (#31, above), I was surprised to see one of the three short stories leading off this volume. Perhaps "Vathek" was not selling well, and this was an attempt to introduce more readers to its unique charms. In "Vathek," Beckford left this particular tale unfinished. The storyteller is interrupted and sent to eternal damnation before she can finish. Along comes Clark Ashton Smith, self-taught at translating French ("Vathek" was originally written in French), who not only translates the story, but provides an ending! The tale concerns twins--one boy and one girl--who are raised the same up to a certain age, and then pulled apart at age twelve. They conspire to reunite, going against the wishes of their father, and pledge their souls to the devil in order to spend some blissful moments together on earth. Despite the simplicity of the story, it is an engaging tale, and several of the minor characters are worth meeting. I did not mind re-reading it, and enjoyed Smith's ending. ***1/2 stars
Silence: A Fable, by Edgar Allen Poe. This very brief story (3 1/2 pages) will not make a Poe fan out of someone who isn't one already. It has a Lovecraftian touch to it, as Silence becomes the greatest thing to fear. No doubt there is much truth here. ** 1/2
The Romance of Photogen and Nycteris, by George MacDonald. There is sly genius at work here, as our volume's second true minor masterpiece plays out for our enjoyment. A witch raises a girl to live only in darkness, and a boy to only live in the daylight. How the two meet, and the adventure they undergo together to break free of the witch makes for terrific storytelling. It's simplistic way of relating the tale will appeal to children, and would make a wonderful bedtime story. I wish someone had read it to me when I was little. *** 1/2
The Sphinx, by Oscar Wilde is a dark poem that says more about the wild, depraved imaginings of the poet than it does about the small statue that is the source of his musings. ** 1/2
The Fall of Babbulkund, by Lord Dunsany, is an elaborate description of a now-lost and forsaken city that only this author could dream up. There is enough material in the very short tale to provide inspiration for at least one full-year art calendar. Instead, we have thousands of drawings of Tolkien's works, but very little of other, equally deserving ones. Though I personally do not indulge, this is probably a tale that would nicely accompany a pipeful of hashish. ***
The Green Meadow, by H.P. Lovecraft, ties in loosely with "The Quest of Iranon" (which also ties in loosely with "The Doom That Came to Sarnath"). A mysterious manuscript travels to earth on a meteor, containing the last words of an unfortunate soul who is misled by the lovely meadow. When the truth is revealed, the author realizes where he is (Stethelos), a place where young men are all old. Lin Carter claims this to be the only Dunsansian tale by Lovecraft he hadn't published in the Ballantine series up to this point. ***
The Feast in the House of the Worm, by Gary Myers, is a tribute to Lovecraft's Dunsanian dream stories, at least according to Lin Carter. I find it an appealing story, and it does owe much to both authors. It certainly makes me curious about Myers, a minor fantasy writer with two published books to his name. ***
Zingazar, by Lin Carter, is a very silly title, and I was not expecting much in the way of good fantasy. It's actually not a bad little tale, detailing the most recent exploits of a historically important and powerful sword. While it might seem too improbable to some that a young boy could wield such a mighty blade, as a practicing swordsman (I study Iaido, the Japanese art of drawing the samurai sword), there is a lot of truth to the statement that "a bad sword needs an expert swordsman to wield it, but a really fine sword can make a bad swordsman look rather good!" (my own quote). ** 1/2
A Wine of Wizardry, by George Sterling, is worth more than a single reading, as its prose has a now-unfamiliar ring to modern ears. It was first published in Cosmopolitan in 1907, and brought the west-coast poet considerable fame and admiration. It is dense with amazing imagery, among the most colorful I have ever encountered. *** 1/2
The next three tales are of the invincible barbarian versus some type of horror magic. The leading proponent of this style was Robert E. Howard. Almost all of his stories are nearly exactly the same, yet he writes with such energy and page-turning prowess that one cannot help admiring his work. In addition to one of Howard's tales are two by close imitators.
The Garden of Fear is a classic tale by Robert E. Howard. Though a good stand-alone story, nearly endless continuation possibilities are here. A big, strong man rescues his kidnapped girlfriend from a terrifying bat-like creature. Haven't we all done that at one time or another? Once again Howard keeps us reading until the very end. His pen is magic from another time.
The Romance of Photogen and Nycteris, by George MacDonald. There is sly genius at work here, as our volume's second true minor masterpiece plays out for our enjoyment. A witch raises a girl to live only in darkness, and a boy to only live in the daylight. How the two meet, and the adventure they undergo together to break free of the witch makes for terrific storytelling. It's simplistic way of relating the tale will appeal to children, and would make a wonderful bedtime story. I wish someone had read it to me when I was little. *** 1/2
The Sphinx, by Oscar Wilde is a dark poem that says more about the wild, depraved imaginings of the poet than it does about the small statue that is the source of his musings. ** 1/2
The Fall of Babbulkund, by Lord Dunsany, is an elaborate description of a now-lost and forsaken city that only this author could dream up. There is enough material in the very short tale to provide inspiration for at least one full-year art calendar. Instead, we have thousands of drawings of Tolkien's works, but very little of other, equally deserving ones. Though I personally do not indulge, this is probably a tale that would nicely accompany a pipeful of hashish. ***
The Green Meadow, by H.P. Lovecraft, ties in loosely with "The Quest of Iranon" (which also ties in loosely with "The Doom That Came to Sarnath"). A mysterious manuscript travels to earth on a meteor, containing the last words of an unfortunate soul who is misled by the lovely meadow. When the truth is revealed, the author realizes where he is (Stethelos), a place where young men are all old. Lin Carter claims this to be the only Dunsansian tale by Lovecraft he hadn't published in the Ballantine series up to this point. ***
The Feast in the House of the Worm, by Gary Myers, is a tribute to Lovecraft's Dunsanian dream stories, at least according to Lin Carter. I find it an appealing story, and it does owe much to both authors. It certainly makes me curious about Myers, a minor fantasy writer with two published books to his name. ***
Zingazar, by Lin Carter, is a very silly title, and I was not expecting much in the way of good fantasy. It's actually not a bad little tale, detailing the most recent exploits of a historically important and powerful sword. While it might seem too improbable to some that a young boy could wield such a mighty blade, as a practicing swordsman (I study Iaido, the Japanese art of drawing the samurai sword), there is a lot of truth to the statement that "a bad sword needs an expert swordsman to wield it, but a really fine sword can make a bad swordsman look rather good!" (my own quote). ** 1/2
A Wine of Wizardry, by George Sterling, is worth more than a single reading, as its prose has a now-unfamiliar ring to modern ears. It was first published in Cosmopolitan in 1907, and brought the west-coast poet considerable fame and admiration. It is dense with amazing imagery, among the most colorful I have ever encountered. *** 1/2
The next three tales are of the invincible barbarian versus some type of horror magic. The leading proponent of this style was Robert E. Howard. Almost all of his stories are nearly exactly the same, yet he writes with such energy and page-turning prowess that one cannot help admiring his work. In addition to one of Howard's tales are two by close imitators.
The Garden of Fear is a classic tale by Robert E. Howard. Though a good stand-alone story, nearly endless continuation possibilities are here. A big, strong man rescues his kidnapped girlfriend from a terrifying bat-like creature. Haven't we all done that at one time or another? Once again Howard keeps us reading until the very end. His pen is magic from another time.
*** 1/2
Jirel Meets Magic is written by a woman, and stars a woman, a redhead no less (Red Sonja, anyone?). C. L. Moore is the author of this harrowing adventure about an "I mean business" sword-wielding female warrior who knows no fear and seeks her revenge on a wizard. This is a really good story and should not be missed. Parts of it reminded me a bit of Fritz Leiber's writing. Unfortunately the heroine is as wooden as her male counterparts, though with a worse temper. *** 1/2
Duar the Accursed, by Clifford Ball, nicely completes this trilogy with a lusty tale of a barbarian man conquering the heart of a haughty queen. The story has a fair bit of humour in it, and its simplicity adds greatly to the overall effect. While all three of these stories could be described as colourful, this one stands out. Part of a series, this is the first one. Only six stories are known to be published by him. He seems well worth seeking out. *** 1/2
The final three tales are not the strongest, and not the way I would have ended this collection. Carter insinuates another of his badly written tales, from a project he had been working on. As much as I love and respect the man as an editor and scholar, I do not agree with how his stories always got into these collections.
The Hashish Man is an (over)long poem, somewhat inspired by A Wine of Wizardry, above. However, it is in no way as good as Sterling's, which had sunset for a theme and stuck to it. This one meanders a bit too much. **
The Party at Lady Cusp-Canine's, by Mervyn Peake, contains a chapter that was unpublished with Titus Alone in Ballantine's day. However, it now appears in all editions, along with several other changes. Ignore the essay by Carter for this one, as I am certain he would have changed his mind about the third Gormenghast book by now if he were still alive. It is a brilliant book and must be read after the first two in the series (see Pre-Series, above). Peake had written everything there was to write about the castle, and now needed to take a character outside. We finally get to see the kind of world that exists outside of the castle. I find it one of the most fascinating and haunting books I have ever read. This chapter is quite brilliant. *** 1/2
The Sword of Power, by Lin Carter, should have been left out. It makes a very weak finale to the volume. * 1/2
Jirel Meets Magic is written by a woman, and stars a woman, a redhead no less (Red Sonja, anyone?). C. L. Moore is the author of this harrowing adventure about an "I mean business" sword-wielding female warrior who knows no fear and seeks her revenge on a wizard. This is a really good story and should not be missed. Parts of it reminded me a bit of Fritz Leiber's writing. Unfortunately the heroine is as wooden as her male counterparts, though with a worse temper. *** 1/2
Duar the Accursed, by Clifford Ball, nicely completes this trilogy with a lusty tale of a barbarian man conquering the heart of a haughty queen. The story has a fair bit of humour in it, and its simplicity adds greatly to the overall effect. While all three of these stories could be described as colourful, this one stands out. Part of a series, this is the first one. Only six stories are known to be published by him. He seems well worth seeking out. *** 1/2
The final three tales are not the strongest, and not the way I would have ended this collection. Carter insinuates another of his badly written tales, from a project he had been working on. As much as I love and respect the man as an editor and scholar, I do not agree with how his stories always got into these collections.
The Hashish Man is an (over)long poem, somewhat inspired by A Wine of Wizardry, above. However, it is in no way as good as Sterling's, which had sunset for a theme and stuck to it. This one meanders a bit too much. **
The Party at Lady Cusp-Canine's, by Mervyn Peake, contains a chapter that was unpublished with Titus Alone in Ballantine's day. However, it now appears in all editions, along with several other changes. Ignore the essay by Carter for this one, as I am certain he would have changed his mind about the third Gormenghast book by now if he were still alive. It is a brilliant book and must be read after the first two in the series (see Pre-Series, above). Peake had written everything there was to write about the castle, and now needed to take a character outside. We finally get to see the kind of world that exists outside of the castle. I find it one of the most fascinating and haunting books I have ever read. This chapter is quite brilliant. *** 1/2
The Sword of Power, by Lin Carter, should have been left out. It makes a very weak finale to the volume. * 1/2
*** stars for the overall volume. Reviewed Dec. 2012.
#36--Published September 1971
The Spawn of Cthulhu
H. P. Lovecraft and others
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
Lin Carter was always coming up with terrific ideas for the series, and this is certainly one of his finest. Taking a novella by Lovecraft as his launching point, he presents it and a series of stories by other writers that also use the mythology. At first it seems like an idea that cannot miss. Though Lovecraft's name gets top billing, there is only one story by him. Carter considers it a seminal work that established the ensuing (and on-going) phenomenon of interest in all things Cthulhu. If you have never read any of the related writings, this volume makes a perfect place to begin. Carter also wrote a companion study, "A Look Behind The Cthulhu Mythos." A review of that volume will eventually be included here as well.
The Whisperer in the Dark, by H. P. Lovecraft. This novella has not dated well. Stories like this that are set in a specific time and place are always tricky, even in their own day. Something we know well now is that the worst horror does not come from alien lifeforms, but from humans themselves. No atrocity any alien could ever carry out would be worse than those that humans have already carried out against themselves. We are our own worst enemies, not the aliens. And so the fear that is shown by the narrator towards whatever is plaguing the hills of Vermont seems a bit unreasonable to skeptic minds of the 21st Century. His ability to readily accept the overnight change in Akeley also seems a bit beyond rational adult thinking, as is his bringing all the evidence with him on his sudden visit. Despite his supposed intelligence, we could easily classify Wilmarth as "clueless." I did not find the story particularly scary or atmospheric, though the conspiracy element did ring true. Lovecraft's aliens, depicted reasonably accurately by Gervasio Gallardo on the book's cover, do not particularly frighten me. Perhaps if I heard one speak, and I were in a lonely farmhouse somewhere remote, I would have a different opinion. However, horror is often best left to the reader's imagination rather than describing it in any detail. This could also be called a science fiction story. **
An Inhabitant of Carcosa, by Ambrose Bierce, is a very short and minor tale about a man who discovers his own gravestone. This wasn't too much of a surprise, but where the stone was located was a nice touch. Lovecraft borrowed a few of the names from here after reading Bierce's tale. **
The Yellow Sign, by Robert W. Chambers, is a gem of a tale. Chambers' early works had a great hold over Lovecraft, and it is easy to see why. The story would have been effective just using the related dreams. But by having an actual 'person' nearby from the dreams, the story becomes even more effective. The main idea that Lovecraft borrowed here was that of a certain volume ("The King In Yellow," a play set in Venice) that contains knowledge it were best not to know or read about. Thus was born the idea of the Necronomicon. *** 1/2
Cordelia's Song, From "The King In Yellow", by Vincent Starrett, show yet another influence that Chambers' early stories had. Starrett gives us the briefest of verse (four short stanzas, with the first and last the same) which rewards the careful reader. ***
The Return of Hastur, by August Derleth, brings the first tale by someone working after Lovecraft and deeply influenced by him. Sometimes, Carter's story introductions are as interesting as the stories themselves and should not be skipped over. Derleth was both fan and friend of Lovecraft, and he has done a superb job in this story in not only paying hommage, but in advancing Lovecraft's ideas. This story is frightening precisely because we mostly "hear" what is occuring rather than actually see very much. We do, however, get an eyeful at the very end. Great stuff! ****
Litany to Hastur, by Lin Carter, is a short, accessible poem with references to the Cthulhu myths. **
The Children of the Night, by Robert E. Howard, is a mostly unpleasant, violent tale that is filled with mindless hate and pure meanness. It could probably still be used as a rallying cry for modern-day Aryans. I did like the concept of reverting to a more primitive memory through the blow to the head. * 1/2
K'n-Yan, by Walter C DeBill, Jr., is the briefest of poems describing one person's journey into the depths of the earth. * 1/2
The Tale of Satampra Zeiros, by Clark Ashton Smith, makes its second appearance of the series. It is a superb tale that reminds me a lot of Leiber's Faffrd and Mouser tales. This is one bad enemy that faces the two heroes, and the reactions and responses of the two men rings very, very true. The tale comes from Ballantine #29, above, "Hyperborea," about a Greenland-type place before and after the glaciers. Our current tale takes place in a city abandoned to the jungle after a hideous evil overtakes it and drives out the populace. Two thieves think it might be a good idea to go there and search for jewels left within the temples. Hmmm. Perhaps not such a good idea. *** 1/2
The Hounds of Tindalos, by Frank Belknap Long, seems to fit the Lovecraftian mold perfectly. Crazed man wishes to take a recently rediscovered drug and voyage back in time within his mind. Friend tries to discourage such behaviour, to no avail. Crazy man succeeds in his experiment, actually doing much better than he ever thought he would. His demise is sudden and distinctly unpleasant. Only the friend really knows what happened. Quite good! ***
The Curse of Yig, by Zealia Bishop, was actually mostly written by Lovecraft, though the setting in wide-open Oklahoma seems some distance from Lovecraft's dark and foreboding east coast. This is a terrific little story, though if you are afraid of snakes this will do nothing to help you. The constant drumming that is in the story's background works opposite to that in Frank Herbert's "Dune." In that book, the thumpers were used to lure the giant worms, whereas here they are used to keep them away. I only wish there really was a Yig, to protect snakes and other reptiles and amphibians from humans. We are the enemy, not the snakes. *** 1/2
The Mine on Yuggoth, by J. Ramsey Campbell, rounds out this collection nicely as it provides us with a free trip to Pluto (Yuggoth)! It's the kind of story I really like, as the actual horror is never directly confronted or described in great detail, but we only get lingering hints of it. A strong ending to a very fine collection. Thank you again, Mr. Carter. *** 1/2.
*** stars overall. Of little interest to children.
Review completed Jan. 11/13
#37--Published November 1971
Double Phoenix
E. Cooper and R. L. Green
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
There are two novellas in this volume, both on the theme of the Phoenix bird. The first tale is the shorter, and is easily read in one session.
The Firebird, by Edmund Cooper, is a great short novel. Though it is exactly the right length, I wish it had been longer. Cooper's writing style goes between beautifully detailed descriptions and very sparse ones, not one word wasted prose. I love the style and will seek out some of his other works. The Firebird is a true fairy tale, with a curious beginning, magical middle and one of the most perfect endings in all fiction. This is my second reading, having read it first about 35 years ago. At that time I did not care for it much. My tastes regarding Cooper's work have changed noticeably. I do not wish to say anything about the story line or character, but this work comes highly recommended, both from Lin Carter and myself. *** 1/2 stars.
Double Phoenix, by Roger Lancelyn Green, is the second and final story in the volume. I did not like it very much years ago when I first read it, and I don't now. It seems to have the right ingredients for a very successful story, including a decent introduction (The Valley), a terrific setting for the main part of the story (The House of Fear), and a sense from early on that something truly wonderful and magical is about to happen. The problem is, it never does. A lot does happen. Rosanthe gets kidnapped and Julian goes in search. Julian has visions about temptresses trying to lead him off the path of true love for Rosanthe. Rosanthe goes to a strange underground banquet. They each meet God in turn in a garden and maze. A Phoenix dies and is reborn. However, like a delicious-sounding recipe that doesn't quite taste as good as one expected, this story left me wondering why. Julian and Rosanthe are strange people, and not given enough time at the beginning to become multi-dimensional. They are not quite likeable enough for me to care one whit what happens to them. I am glad they end up loving one another, but don't really care that much.
There is some lovely poetry, though it serves mostly to remind me that only characters in stories are able to quote (word perfect) poetry from memory, any amount of it. Usually I have to read a poem three or four times before I begin to understand it. That is a far cry from remembering it word for word weeks later! As for Julian and Rosanthe, if they really had to go through that many hoops to find out that they really do love one another, including some direct help from the Christian God, then the rest of us have no hope of ever truly being in love. And I resent that.
* 1/2 stars. Reviewed January 18th/2013
#38--Published November 1971
The Water of The Wondrous Isles
William Morris
If you have read my three other Morris reviews here (Main Series #s 3, 20, 21) you will already know that I am a huge Morris fan and love his fantasy novels. I have visited his two London homes, both of which are now museums, and can highly recommend them if you are ever over there. The William Morris Gallery is in his childhood home and is free to visit. Red House was designed and built by Morris, and though it has a steep entrance fee, is well worth the visit.
#38 in the Main Series was Morris' second novel, coming before Well At The World's End (#s 20 and 21). There has been a huge amount of growth in his storytelling ability since his first novel (#3), and Water of the Wondrous Isles is nearly as good as Well, his masterpiece. The novel is divided into seven major sections, and though most chapters are very short the novel itself, at 366 pages, is one of the longest in the Ballantine series. Without giving any of the story away, this is one of the best fairy tales ever written, and why the cinema has not discovered this and the other Morris tales is beyond me. I am thankful they haven't, as I much prefer the movie in my head when I read them. For fans of Gallardo's cover art, there really is a naked woman in the story, and a scary boat. The woman's name is Birdalone, and she is the heroine (don't all rush out and name your newborn daughters after her, now). Though there is magic, a bad witch, a kind fairy godmother, and strange mysteries and lands beyond compare, Morris writes so well that it all makes sense and is quite believable. If you can write a believable fairy tale for adults, that is saying something!
Tolkien was enthralled by Morris, and it shows throughout the tale. Fellowship of friends is of utmost importance to Morris, to name just one example. There is a magic ring that makes the bearer invisible, for another. The Forest of Evilshaw was certainly the origin for Tolkien's Mirkwood. And Morris ties up every last detail of his main characters and settings, something Tolkien did so well with his "Scouring of the Shire" chapter and Appendices in LOTR. Not only does Morris tie up the ending, but we learn, bit by bit, what has happened to every major and minor character when the main story line has left them for a while. Morris's ability to tell stories within the story is legendary, and masterfully done using his expert writing craft.
I would recommend reading the books in the order written. Thus, read "Wood Beyond the World", then "The Water of The Wondrous Isles", and lastly "The Well At The World's End." I tend to read Morris slowly, taking my time as if I, too, were on the long journey. While adventure-seeking adults will appreciate every last detail of Morris's writing without much difficulty, younger readers might be put off by the Medieval-style prose used by the author.
**** Reviewed February 16th/13
#39--Published December 1971
Khaled
F. Marion Crawford
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
Khaled is the third volume in the Ballantine series to have links to The Tales of the Arabian Nights. So far we have had The Shaving of Shagput (#17) and Vathek (#31). Both were outstanding works, worth repeated readings. Khaled probably retains the most loyalty to the style and type of tale that Scheherazade would have told. It is a far less frantic tale than the first two, and aside from an early battle and a climactic uprising, Khaled is a gentle story of a man's search for a woman's love. I have been reluctant to bring up the topic of sexism in the Ballantine series, though it may be one of several essays I will undertake at the conclusion of my complete reading of the set. However, if one expects to find an Arabian tale that does not involve some sexism, then one is truly searching for a needle in a haystack.
Though the novel is called Khaled, after the main character, it could just as easily been called Khaled and Zehowah, or even just Zehowah. The book (a very brief one) tries to untangle a particularly tricky situation. Khaled, a former Jinn (genie), must get the beautiful Zehowah to love him if he wishes to earn a soul and a place in the everlasting kingdom after his earthly time. Failure to do so will terminate his existence when he dies, as happens to all the Jinn. And thus he tries to regale his beloved with every kind of manly deed, from slaughtering enemies, gaining treasure, and seeking to please her in every way he knows. Zehowah, for her part, is an obedient wife to Khaled and wants only his happiness. But she is expected to fall in love with a man without a soul. Thus we have the Catch-22. Khaled must win her love to gain a soul, but she cannot love a souless man.
This provides a very interesting backdrop for a series of discussions between them on what love is and isn't. There are a few chapters that E.R. Eddison would have reveled in. There is no easy solution to the problem, no trick that the author uses at the end. However, the way things finally work out is pure fairy tale magic. That is why we read these kind of books, isn't it? The opening section deals with Khaled and his initial problem of marrying the princess. I was gripped from the very start. The middle section deals with their relationship, and the struggle between Khaled and Zehowah to understand love. I enjoyed the discussions and came to know both characters very well. The ending slowly works its way to a solution, which ultimately comes from the crisis thrust upon Khaled by his own hopeless situation. The final chapters make the book difficult to put down.
Khaled offers a wonderful look into an exotic land and the even more exotic people who dwell therein, but the issues of what is love and how can it be found are universal. I highly recommend all three Near Eastern novels published in the Ballantine Series, though Khaled is my favourite. Though it is easy to read, it will not appeal to children.
**** stars. Reviewed March 1st, 2013
#40--Published January 1972
The World's Desire
H. R. Haggard and A. Lang
Cover art by Vincent di Fate
H. Rider Haggard has long been a favourite writer of mine. I have read the entire "Ayesha" series, as well as "Eric Brighteyes" and "Montezuma's Daughter." I highly recommend all of the above to fantasy lovers. "The World's Desire" was co-authored, and it shows. This is not Haggard writing as he did in his other novels. The prose is more restrained, direct and much less descriptive. I don't think he wrote much of the first chapter at all. Still, it is one of the most powerful first chapters in fantasy that I have ever read. If you never read the book, you should at least read the first chapter. The second one is nearly as good.
Andrew Lang was, among other things, a scholar and translator of classic Greek works. His experience with translating "The Odyssey" serves him well here. "The World's Desire" is a sequel to the sequel of "The Odyssey." Odysseus (hereafter called The Wanderer) has returned to Ithica for a second time, after another long and adventurous journey. This time things are not as how he left them. His final adventure begins after his brief visit, and this time he lands in Egypt, soon getting on the good side of Pharoah and his sister-bride. The remainder of the three books within a book all take place in Egypt.
There are enough male/female discussion topics within this story to power several feminist conventions. The World's Desire is the world's most beautiful woman; Helen, of course. The love triangle that ensues between The Wanderer, Helen and Pharoah's wife is quite the phenomenon, and will keep the reader turning pages. Throw in guest appearances by Moses, The Ark of the Covenant, and a surprise guest who arrives at the very end, and if you are like me you will wonder why this has not yet been made into a blockbuster movie.
The mix of Classical and Egyptian mythology works well for the most part, though I feel that the Egyptians got slighted a bit. Haggard's solo fictional works concerning the Egyptians are much richer, both in content and in immersion in the culture. In "World's Desire," Egypt seems to be used more as a backdrop than an actual setting. If you really want some top notch Egyptian Haggard writing, then read the Ayesha series. They are indisputably the best ancient Egyptian fiction there is.
As much as I enjoyed reading "World's Desire," it is not likely to be a work I would reread (other than the first chapter). However, it has inspired me to reread "The Odyssey." I have the prized Richmond Lattimore translation. I have not read Homer very much since leaving high school. I think it is time to read him once again.
*** stars. Reviewed March 28th/13
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